THE ANOINTED 3: PROPHECIES OF FIRE (10 page)

“But I am not the Tactical General possession leader.”

“With their current commander held hostage, you are second in command. If you don’t want the job, I can always send you back home.”

“You know that there is talk of the position being curse because of recent events?” Thomas asked.

“Thanks for the gossip Thomas, but we learned to leave superstitions to those who should believe in them.”

The blue squares grew bright in color as Data Support’s PPH system appeared amongst them.

“Some superstitions are known to be true possession leader,” Data support said. Her face, beautiful and glowing, looked at them blankfully. “By looking at the data in my systems from your own histories I see that folktales and superstitions are indeed started with grains of truth.”

“Very nice of you to volunteer your superior knowledge, but have you come to tell us something of real value?”

Data support’s face became serious.

“Yes, of course. There wouldn’t be any other reason I would interrupt your training session.”

“Then out with it.”

“The VSO has sent a strong video message protesting a brutal killing of one of their priest in Madrid.”

“Spain?” Nathan’s brow wrinkled up in puzzlement. “We haven’t sanctioned any operations in Madrid have we?”

Kimiko shook her head.

“Not that I know of, but then again, we are officially at war.”

“Data support, is there any Spanish news coverage of this?”

“Yes, I have found the story from one of their news affiliates. Translating the words into English.”

“Thank you, please play the story.”

Data support replaced herself with a wide screen where a pretty brunette was holding a microphone speaking.

“Tonight police have responded to a call where a strolling couple out on a date stumbled across the body of a man shot repeatedly in the head. Police are not releasing any information other than the cause of death, the scene was sealed off and---,”

“Okay, that’s enough data support, get the full facts from our friends in the police over there. And please play the VSO message.”

“Man, that wasn’t a killing, that was an execution,” stated Thomas.

“Probably so, but I still don’t think it was any of our people.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because we would’ve had a report on the incident already. Our order has very strict rules about such things.”

“Our people don’t go outside regular operating procedure, there is no need to, especially when dealing with known enemies,” stated Kimiko.

“Let’s see what the VSO has to say.”

The brunette was replaced by a rough looking man with a shaved head. His eyes were the type that showed exactly what he was. A very dangerous man. A man that had sent the two men they held now to murder him.

“Your actions have shown us that our leaders have been right about wanting to eliminate the cancerous darkness that you choose to hide behind. The righteous recognize the mask of false hope and deceit. War has already been established between us, but our leaders have declared you enemies of the church and all our personnel have been advised to extinguish all traces of your demonic order wherever we find you. In the end, possession leader, you will pay for the total disregard for the true righteous. The pits of fire await you, dialogue between us is no longer necessary. To appease our leaders, we will settle for your head and we will spare your order if you compile. You have the choice.”

“End of massage,” Data support stated before reappearing.

“Kimiko, advise the eclipse of the massage and prepare the guards of Gabriel to strike all VSO safe houses and havens. Also, I want all known locations of their leaders for possible drone attacks,” Nathan said with a clenched jaw.

“Are you mad?!” Thomas asked, horrified at the turn of the conversation and how quickly the possession leader had come to that decision. “You can’t just go around doing drone missile attacks on the Roman Catholic Church! They’re not terrorists, they’re the faith of millions of people for centuries!”

Nathan’s face turned to stone. “No, you’re right, they are not terrorists. They’re something worse. Their actions could bring about the end of days. If I have to wipe them all out to prevent that, then I will with no hesitation. Plus, you heard them, they know where many of our assets are and can’t be allowed to attack and destroy them with impunity. Their leaders made their choice and now, I must make mines. They claim the first faith but we been around longer than all known religions combined, we don’t push or bully those who are supposed to be our brothers, but I will not have them attacking us. It threatened our mission.”

“The possession leader is right,” Kimiko said. “It would be very foolish to allow our work to be derailed over misguided pride and ego. If they succeed, then Anais wins.”

Thomas absently reached up to touch the bullet fragment that had been taken out of him on the day his wife was murdered. It was the day that he decided to find whoever did it and make them pay. But fighting against the church felt wrong. Because now, whatever war that they found themselves in, it was his war as well. If they were too blind to see reason, then he would have no ground to stand on with the people in front of him. A kind heart got you killed in war.

“We do what we must and try not to drown in the fire.” Nathan continued watching him. “It’s the only way.”

Thomas nodded. For Mary, he would tread the fires for the vengeance that she deserved.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE ISLAND OF BORNEO, ASIA

The jungles of Borneo were never silent and the monkeys that inhabited its trees added to that noise, as they shrieked at one another as a disagreement developed. One arrow shot upwards from the ground below, impaling two of them chest to chest, while the rest of the group panicked and leaped from branch to branch to safety of other trees. The man who was hidden in the brush materialized like part of the jungle itself, as his body was covered in paint that blended him in nicely with the environment.

Naked, except for a loincloth, he walked calmly to the bodies of the two monkeys that fell from the trees and retrieved his arrow while watching the rest of the troop that stared back with curiosity. He smiled a promising smile and the troop went wild with another round of shrieks, pulling a water skin tied to a string on his loincloth, he cleaned the arrow of blood and gore before returning the arrow to the small quiver and bow.

From the pack he carried, he took out a sharp knife and sat down cross-legged to begin skinning both animals, tossing their entrails as he went. A flat headed snake, one of the most dangerous on the island, slithered across the jungle’s floor with even better camouflage than he had as he stalked the monkeys.

The monkeys themselves were its prey and it gravitated towards the taste of the animals on the air as its fork tongue flickered, tasting. Paying attention to the task at hand, the man didn’t notice the snake until it was beside him. It was too late. The snake could strike twice as fast as he could move. In the blink of an eye, a sharp knife came down hard, separating its head from its body. Glancing in the direction that the knife had come from, he saw another man emerge from the brush. He couldn’t help but look back at the snake that could’ve been his death.

“I have told you many times that this is not the jungles of the Amazon, there are different things that can kill here. You should had learned the art of alertness there. It’s more dangerous than here, but arrogance is deadly in itself,” stated the second man as he came to a stop not far from the first. The man had spears and other weaponry visible on his person and the still sitting on the ground wondered how he had moved so silently through the jungle.

Easily
, he thought. He was born here. With a half skinned carcass in his hand, he dropped his head in shame.

“Forgive me for such arrogance Zhyrus, you are right, this jungle is different from the one I’m used to.”

“No! Forgiveness is for the weak! Our people have learned long ago that man can actually do no such thing as forgiveness. Do you forgive a man if he slaps you? No, you wait until the right moment to slit his throat. Never talk such words to me again. Ever.”

The venom in Zhyrus’ voice caused the birds above them to take flight. The man was shocked. Since he got here, he had never heard Zhyrus lose his temper before. The anger seemed to roll off him like a living massive beast and the man felt the thickness of it.

“See? Your foolish ways have disturbed my peace today.”

The words made the man hurry to his feet. He knew that when Zhyrus felt that his peace was disturbed, someone could die.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said aware of the knife in his hand. If it was possible, he would strike first.

Zhyrus’s eyes glowed with unconcealed rage, but he did not make a move for his weapons, and he stood there looking into the eyes of the man sensing his intention of using the knife he held. This somehow pleased him and soothed the rage that was flowing through him. The act itself probably saved his life. A smile deadlier than the viper could have ever been spread on Zhyrus’ face and in spite of himself, a cold shiver went through the man.

“Gather your kill, we have to make it back to the settlement before darkness catches us.”

The man nodded uneasily before cleaning his knife and packing his things. Hesitating, he bent down to retrieve the knife that had killed the snake and handed it over to Zhyrus hilt first. The action calmed him, for he understood just how close he came to death and it gave him a new found sense of life.

“To live is to conquer,” Zhyrus often said.

Grabbing the two half skinned monkeys, (meat was too rare to leave it) they made their way back through the thick brush of the jungle. It took them a quarter of the day to make it back to the cluster of straw and mud huts. The settlement was found by Portuguese smugglers that became shipwrecked as they made their way back and forth from Japan in the late 1700s. Once they were rescued, they used the island as a bullion cache and a stopover for the priests that came over to convert Asia. It was said that the island was the fourth settlement of the Blood Tide (what was known to the church as protocol-nine) and it was here that different clans and branches of the Blood Tide came to gather, train, and obey.

The obeying part was difficult as the masters of the island were not the natives, but thick mean spirited men and women of Portuguese descent that the Blood Tide had sworn to obey until the church released them from the vows of their forefathers. There was an uproar as they entered the settlement. Zhyrus caught the arm of a woman with the skin like mocha and sun touched tip dreadlocks as she ran pass.

“Magic, what’s happening here?” The look on his face was puzzled by this uncharacteristic public show of the tribe and wondered why the Portuguese had not appeared to stomp it out immediately. With that thought, he looked around, noticing the settlement was filled only with the Blood Tide. His features darkened.

“God help anyone who has broken our vows against our…”

What was he to say? Babysitters? Jailers?

“Revered teachers,” he finally said.

The woman released herself from his grasp and looked him in the eyes as was the Blood Tide’s way. Her look just as cold as his. The man who had walked back here with Zhyrus thought blood was about to be shed before Magic slowly produced a tiny brown scroll and held it out to him. The Blood Tide were tweekers of the old traditions, like training carrier hawks instead of pigeons to carry messages long distance and nullifying the chances of predators intercepting them. Short of man bringing them down, they were safe and more reliable than messages written in code that the Blood Tide didn’t trust.

Taking the scroll and unrolling it, Zhyrus immediately saw the holy seal of the Roman Catholic Church. It was written in a mixture of Latin and a forgotten language that was spoken only by the church’s elders and the Blood Tide. Scanning the words, he thought his heart would burst as his eyes came across the decision to activate the Tide once again. Their instructions were clear, form ranks at once and move against a sect called the Vae Victis. The elders were the only ones to be obeyed now. Zhyrus’ eyes filled with the stories passed down from generations to generations. Tales of glory and terror. The Tide’s war drums would beat with the thunder of god himself.

“And the Portuguese?” he asked, having to know the situation.

“They fled into the jungle when they heard rumbling of the news,” Magic replied.

Zhyrus reached back and brought out a metal tip spear.

“You all have been fools to let your emotions warn them that they were in peril. Gather the Tide now and if any escapes this island alive, those who first spoke of this will have their tongues cut out.”

Magic hurry to obey, her dreadlocks swinging.

“Why are we going to hunt our…revered teachers, Zhyrus?” asked the man.

“Because we will not forget the heavy hand that they used thinking that this day would never come.”

The man just nodded and took out his skinning knife. The Tide always ate pieces of their enemies to gain power over their spirits. There would be plenty to prepare, and he planned to get the most coveted part. The heart.

MANHATTAN, NEWYORK CITY

Abigail Tucker labored a little as she bent over at the waist to sit the multi-dish tray of cat food on the floor of the white tiled kitchen and heard the familiar popping in her joints as she straightened. Multiple cats started to appear from different hiding places at the aroma of fresh tuna. Their meows grew in volume as she turned and grabbed another dish tray before gently clearing space with her slippered foot to sit it down among their upturned faces.

When her joints cracked sharply, she made her way to the sink while reaching into her apron to uncap her pain medication and dry swallowed two of the ivory/bluish pills. Filling a glass with water, she chased the pills from her throat and somehow she started to feel better. Looking back, she watched her precious pets contently. There were eleven cats in all and to her they were more than pets, they were her beloved children.

Humming a catchy melody to herself, she shuffled her feet as she slowly made her way from the kitchen to the living room of her spacious apartment. The seventy-two-inch flat screen television was muted as a saleswoman was showing why everyone needed to buy a set of unbreakable forever sharp knives on the home shopping network. Her apartment was expensive (a gift from her daughter Emma who was a surgeon and never visited) and surprisingly clean. (Another gift, a weekly cleaning lady whose son was attending Notre Dame in the fall) Despite the numerous cats, the apartment was clean smelling and comfortable.

Sitting down on the black plush couch, she gave an involuntary sigh of relief as the pressure eased off her arthritic joints. Reaching over, she picked up the remote to unmute the TV just as one of her children, a brown tabby, jumped up into the warmth of her lap, arching her back for attention.

“Eww Shelly, you have fish breath,” she said lovingly while giving the tabby a good scratch behind her ears and then under the chin. It was places that the tabby loved.

The tabby, who was purring with delight, suddenly went stiff as the hair on her bristled and she hissed in outrage backing away. Abigail, concerned over the cat’s behavior, looked around in the direction of its fixed gaze and found a dark obscuring figure that stood in her home. Her wrinkled face frowned at the thought of some disrespecting punk that had somehow made it inside her apartment. Crime was out of control in the city and the Mayor needed to do something. She wished she had listened to her daughter and brought a small gun for protection. These days, no one would hesitate to do awful things to an elderly woman.

With a seemingly dismissive wave of the stranger’s hand, the tabby, whose claws were digging into Abigail’s thin thighs, was lifted off her with a shrill cry to smack loudly into the wall right above the TV and slowly slid down in blood, leaving an unbelievable bright red trail.

“I always hated those nasty flea carrying critters,” said the stranger. “Nothing but hairballs and bad breath.”

Abigail’s wide and surprised eyes stared at the gruesome splatter of Shelly on the wall and back to the stranger. It was hard to think of this as real, but the blood was a shocking reminder of the reality that confronted her. Or was this some sort of magician trick, like that David Blaine guy?
These thugs kept finding unconventional ways to frighten honest god fearing folks these days
, she thought. Anger mushroomed inside her as she thought about becoming a victim.

“How did you get in here, young man?” she asked in a heated voice. “I’ll have you know that there are silent alarms on the windows and door that will alert the NYPD immediately when breached. I suggest you leave now before you go to Attica for your own stupidity.”

There. All these thugs were scared of the NYPD, were they not?

Cornelius Brown, who was amused by the bold words, gave a dark smirk and seem to glide closer.

“If you truly knew what has come inside your home, you would wish that I did trip such an alarm.”

Movies and books gave misleading information; vampires did not need an invitation to enter someone’s home. Abigail stood up with her mouth set in a thin line.

“Look here, I tol-,”

The words took on the form of Shelly as Cornelius step out from the shadows into the light and opened his mouth, flashing two menacing fangs. She couldn’t help herself as she felt a hot liquid flow down her inner thigh. There was no denying that what stood before her was a monster and unholy. As urine, warm and wet, dripped from her legs into the carpet, she stood dumbfounded and staring at the monstrosity of nightmares. She did the only thing that could save her fragile mind from falling into a mindless void. She fainted.

Cats started to slink into the room with hisses as they were attuned to their mistress’ distress. Cornelius gave the unconscious old lady a look to check if she was still alive and indeed she was, as he found a steady pulse. He then proceeded to tear the cats apart with his power. He hated the creatures.