There are three issues left in the Heather mini series, so we are just going to barn burn through them the rest of this week. Come back tomorrow and Thursday for the exciting conclusion to Detonation Games and get ready for Legends Can Die – late this spring.
*Programming note – This is also the final POV issue for Father Reigart. #19 and #20 will conclude Heather’s story.
Issue #18 – A Father’s Choice
I had sworn an oath. What was told to me in confession was never to be shared with anyone. It was a sacred meeting between priest, pupil, and the Lord. The real debate came for me was being in Kim’s truck the same as being in the house of my Lord? What he told me there, would I be breaking my sacred oath if I went to the police and told them.
And that’s how I ended up in Jericho’s room at Black Lagoon. No one else was here and the comatose man made for a great sounding board. Plus, no matter what anyone said, he had been an excellent friend, all things considered. “Jericho, the choices I’m facing, even you weren’t this difficult to deal with.”
The only noises that responded to me were the beeps of the different machines hooked up to the former villain of Pacific Station. Every once in a blue moon, I’d spy what I thought was a movement from him only to convince myself it was a trick with the lighting or my eyes. I’d clean my glasses off and move on.
Tonight was no different. Dr. Sanders was good about giving me these visits. He didn’t understand why I cared so much about a murderer and a fanatic, but those were my choices. I saw good in the man, just as I did with Kim. That brought me back to my present problem – it was obvious either powers manifested within Kim due to his trauma or this mysterious man he spoke of did something to him.
Sighing, “If I keep this information to myself, more people will die.” And then his new name wormed its way into my mind. “He calls himself Abaddon, the Ravager.”
There were numerous sources with thoughts and conjecture on the meaning of the name as it appeared in the Bible. I was under the impression that the name should be taken in its truest sense, the destroyer in Latin, as Abaddon was likely a fallen angel who brought death. His appearance coincides with a swarm of locusts.
I was convincing myself with each passing moment that what happened in that truck was not a true confession. Because he did not step on to holy ground, it was my duty to go to the police with the information I learned. I put my coffee down and left Jericho’s room with my next stop entrenched in my mind.
I didn’t stop until I pulled out front of the police station. Standing at the top of the stairs in front of the building was Grime’s replacement, Chief Brad Woods. A taller man with hawk eyes and a steel jaw, it was plain to see why the people of Pacific Station immediately put their trust in him after the days of Harvey Grimes. I opened the door to my Cadillac and stepped out. Then, something about the night’s sky caused me to stop my crusade.
Whether just a peculiar cloud formation or a genuine sign from the Lord above, a cross formed. Behind it came a single stroke of lightning, almost as if telling me what I was about to do would be an offense to my chosen path. I placed my hand on the still warm hood of my car and made the sign of the cross. “Forgive me, Father.”
I stayed there for a few moments before getting back in. My hands were trembling, knowing that I was in a no win situation. As I started the ignition, I knew my nerve had left and keeping this secret would become my ultimate test of faith. God had a plan for me, yet breaking my bond to my flock wasn’t going to be in the plan. I put the car in drive and kept going until I reached my church.
“Kim,” I whispered. “It isn’t too late to fight off the Devil.”
In my mind, I imagined where ever he was, he was telling me it was too late. I prayed it wasn’t.
Find me at http://boltbookspub.wix.com/home