rationally.”
“You think you can destroy me?” Devante taunted, nearing the Reverend.
Rev. Bailey smiled. “I do. You see, even though your being is the bile of hell itself, your body is still that of a man. And you will die as easily as any man.”
“That may be true.” Devante’s voice dropped. “But lest you forget... your soul... is mine.”
On this last word, which penetrated the reverend’s heart, Devante’s hand closed and flashed out in a blur, his massive fist slamming into the reverend’s face. In a split second the reverend was nose-to-nose with Devante a foot in the air. He could smell the brimstone of his breath.
The unearthly scream that followed was as if all the souls of hell were crying in unison.
Devante inhaled deeply. Rev. Bailey shook out of control as his body dehydrated and dissolved, until nothing more than a mass of leathery flesh was left of Rev. Bailey.
Devante turned and walked out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Los Angeles, CA
Devante met with President Nelson at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, aptly enough, in the Presidential Suite. No security accompanied the President, not even the Secret Service. President Nelson sipped on a brandy and paced. Devante sat calmly and comfortably.
“I understand the destruction that could happen,” President Nelson said, forlornly. “I don’t want the world to end.”
“Does any man?” Devante asked.
“But can we stop it?” President Nelson countered. “Truly, can we?”
“You ask me if it can be stopped. I have already told the answer to that question.”
“A harsh answer.” President Nelson paused, and then said, “What it boils down to is you want to pretty much eliminate all those who don’t believe.”
“The people want the believers eliminated. They are the cause of the world’s end.”
“I want to help...”
“Then do it.”
“But the only way is to make a sweep of this country, full force?”
Devante peered up at the President. “I know you are planning to keep order with your many soldiers. It would take little to turn your military into police men.”
“You mean arrest those who don’t believe?” President Nelson asked.
“I have my own people, they will help. They will find the non-believers. But your army must seek them out as well. Find them. Take them.”
“And do what?”
Devante hesitated, dramatically it seemed, before answering coldly. “Kill them.”
“That’s insane.”
“They threaten humanity and the prolonged existence of mankind on this earth.” Devante rose slowly from the couch and looked down at President Nelson. “Soon, all will see that, and you will lose control of your army if you do not partake in the purification. You ask me how to stop this. And I tell you simply. Yet you balk at what I say.” Devante moved toward the door and stopped. “I hear tales about you. Stories. They say you are a leader without a strong will. Or courage. A man without a spine.” Devante paused. “Prove them wrong. Show them that you will stop at nothing to save lives, no matter how extreme.” Devante opened the door and looked once more at President Nelson. “Dream well.”
Northwestern Indiana
“Found another,” Reggie called, and then raced through the darkness to the small fire Marcus was building. She handed him a large twig.
“Oh, this one’s good. Thanks.” He began to break it up.
“I was thinking, what I wouldn’t give to have a tree to pee behind. And there it was, just sticking up out of the ground.”
Marcus snickered. “I could think of other things to pray for.”
“I wasn’t praying. I was blaspheming.” Reggie plopped down on the sleeping roll.
“This should do it.” Marcus nodded to the igniting fire. “It’ll burn out quick, but we’ll be sleeping by then.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about starting a forest fire.”
“No, we don’t.” Marcus scooted over next to her. “You cold?”
“No, but I’m tired.
“You think you can destroy me?” Devante taunted, nearing the Reverend.
Rev. Bailey smiled. “I do. You see, even though your being is the bile of hell itself, your body is still that of a man. And you will die as easily as any man.”
“That may be true.” Devante’s voice dropped. “But lest you forget... your soul... is mine.”
On this last word, which penetrated the reverend’s heart, Devante’s hand closed and flashed out in a blur, his massive fist slamming into the reverend’s face. In a split second the reverend was nose-to-nose with Devante a foot in the air. He could smell the brimstone of his breath.
The unearthly scream that followed was as if all the souls of hell were crying in unison.
Devante inhaled deeply. Rev. Bailey shook out of control as his body dehydrated and dissolved, until nothing more than a mass of leathery flesh was left of Rev. Bailey.
Devante turned and walked out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Los Angeles, CA
Devante met with President Nelson at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, aptly enough, in the Presidential Suite. No security accompanied the President, not even the Secret Service. President Nelson sipped on a brandy and paced. Devante sat calmly and comfortably.
“I understand the destruction that could happen,” President Nelson said, forlornly. “I don’t want the world to end.”
“Does any man?” Devante asked.
“But can we stop it?” President Nelson countered. “Truly, can we?”
“You ask me if it can be stopped. I have already told the answer to that question.”
“A harsh answer.” President Nelson paused, and then said, “What it boils down to is you want to pretty much eliminate all those who don’t believe.”
“The people want the believers eliminated. They are the cause of the world’s end.”
“I want to help...”
“Then do it.”
“But the only way is to make a sweep of this country, full force?”
Devante peered up at the President. “I know you are planning to keep order with your many soldiers. It would take little to turn your military into police men.”
“You mean arrest those who don’t believe?” President Nelson asked.
“I have my own people, they will help. They will find the non-believers. But your army must seek them out as well. Find them. Take them.”
“And do what?”
Devante hesitated, dramatically it seemed, before answering coldly. “Kill them.”
“That’s insane.”
“They threaten humanity and the prolonged existence of mankind on this earth.” Devante rose slowly from the couch and looked down at President Nelson. “Soon, all will see that, and you will lose control of your army if you do not partake in the purification. You ask me how to stop this. And I tell you simply. Yet you balk at what I say.” Devante moved toward the door and stopped. “I hear tales about you. Stories. They say you are a leader without a strong will. Or courage. A man without a spine.” Devante paused. “Prove them wrong. Show them that you will stop at nothing to save lives, no matter how extreme.” Devante opened the door and looked once more at President Nelson. “Dream well.”
Northwestern Indiana
“Found another,” Reggie called, and then raced through the darkness to the small fire Marcus was building. She handed him a large twig.
“Oh, this one’s good. Thanks.” He began to break it up.
“I was thinking, what I wouldn’t give to have a tree to pee behind. And there it was, just sticking up out of the ground.”
Marcus snickered. “I could think of other things to pray for.”
“I wasn’t praying. I was blaspheming.” Reggie plopped down on the sleeping roll.
“This should do it.” Marcus nodded to the igniting fire. “It’ll burn out quick, but we’ll be sleeping by then.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about starting a forest fire.”
“No, we don’t.” Marcus scooted over next to her. “You cold?”
“No, but I’m tired.
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