how, like hundreds of blades, the tiny reptiles got under his skin. He could barely groan. And then, he stopped feeling. His eyes were blinded, but before his mind went out for ever, he could see an image: an endless wasteland devoured by flames and he thought his destiny had been sealed forever and ever, and he wished that his sacrifice would at least serve in saving two innocent souls.
XXI
I t was a glorious day. Esteban felt the pleasant warmth of the sun on his face and slowly regained consciousness. He was lying on a couch in Elena's living room, not far from Andrés, who was asleep on another couch. He'd stayed there because the parapsychologist had insisted that he did so. She was terrified and she assured him that his presence there had a calming effect on her.
«But now,» he said to himself, as he silently picked up his stuff, «I must go to the church as soon as I can, and help Father Salas with the exorcism. I can't just leave him there alone.» Before he left the flat, he wrote a note saying that they'd find him either in the church or on his mobile phone. He left the note on the coffee table.
As soon as he got in his car, Esteban had a bad feeling. Without thinking twice, he sped up to get to the church as soon as possible, where Father Salas was performing his unique exorcism. As he drove, his nerves became more and more frayed and his imagination came up with all sorts of ideas, each one bleaker than the previous one.
He got to the church in just half an hour. The altar was intact, but the rest was covered in dust, and then he discovered that the back windows had been smashed. He grew scared: all this was unusual, enigmatic, as if some kind of riddle was hidden behind that chaos.
In the middle of the aisle formed by the benches, he found the stole, the chasuble and the Saint Benedict medal that Father Salas had kept in his hand since he started the exorcism ritual.
«Something truly terrible must have happened here last night,» Esteban thought, greatly worried for his friend.
The chasuble seemed to be holding something in it, since there was a strange lump in the middle of it. Esteban knelt and touched the lump under the white fabric: it was soft and it yielded to his touch. Very carefully, he lifted the bottom of the chasuble to see what it was. Stunned, he realised that it was just a handful of black ashes, as if a log had been burned under the tunic during the night.
«This doesn't make any sense,» he thought.
Then he looked at the altar and saw Christ's face up there, on the cross, and his intuition guessed what had happened. He knelt and, as he cried, he began to pray. He spent over three quarters of an hour in that position, until he could finally muster the strength needed to call the parapsychologist.
"Elena, Elena" said Esteban, sobbing, as soon as he realised the phone had been picked up.
"Esteban? "What's up?"
"We've lost Father Salas! Last night you kept me away from him because you knew what he was going to do. I hope his soul met those of my son and my granddaughter, and all three are now in God's hands..."
XXII
E lena was exhausted and her nerves were in tatters. She felt she was missing something, that she could maybe have done more for Father Salas and that now she was utterly lost and hopeless. Esteban's words had only made matters worse.
She was trying to relax by taking a walk in the park, in the centre of the capital of Spain. It was a splendid morning. The rays of sunlight, filtered by the treetops, formed beautiful beams of light, like those that are used in religious or self-help books to represent heaven. How could she now find out what had happened to the priest, to Carlos and to Laura? She wouldn't have minded staying and living in that particular instant for the rest of her life.
She walked for a good while, taking short steps, while her brain worked restlessly. She thought that the best she could do now was to get away, maybe even spend some time at her parents,
XXI
I t was a glorious day. Esteban felt the pleasant warmth of the sun on his face and slowly regained consciousness. He was lying on a couch in Elena's living room, not far from Andrés, who was asleep on another couch. He'd stayed there because the parapsychologist had insisted that he did so. She was terrified and she assured him that his presence there had a calming effect on her.
«But now,» he said to himself, as he silently picked up his stuff, «I must go to the church as soon as I can, and help Father Salas with the exorcism. I can't just leave him there alone.» Before he left the flat, he wrote a note saying that they'd find him either in the church or on his mobile phone. He left the note on the coffee table.
As soon as he got in his car, Esteban had a bad feeling. Without thinking twice, he sped up to get to the church as soon as possible, where Father Salas was performing his unique exorcism. As he drove, his nerves became more and more frayed and his imagination came up with all sorts of ideas, each one bleaker than the previous one.
He got to the church in just half an hour. The altar was intact, but the rest was covered in dust, and then he discovered that the back windows had been smashed. He grew scared: all this was unusual, enigmatic, as if some kind of riddle was hidden behind that chaos.
In the middle of the aisle formed by the benches, he found the stole, the chasuble and the Saint Benedict medal that Father Salas had kept in his hand since he started the exorcism ritual.
«Something truly terrible must have happened here last night,» Esteban thought, greatly worried for his friend.
The chasuble seemed to be holding something in it, since there was a strange lump in the middle of it. Esteban knelt and touched the lump under the white fabric: it was soft and it yielded to his touch. Very carefully, he lifted the bottom of the chasuble to see what it was. Stunned, he realised that it was just a handful of black ashes, as if a log had been burned under the tunic during the night.
«This doesn't make any sense,» he thought.
Then he looked at the altar and saw Christ's face up there, on the cross, and his intuition guessed what had happened. He knelt and, as he cried, he began to pray. He spent over three quarters of an hour in that position, until he could finally muster the strength needed to call the parapsychologist.
"Elena, Elena" said Esteban, sobbing, as soon as he realised the phone had been picked up.
"Esteban? "What's up?"
"We've lost Father Salas! Last night you kept me away from him because you knew what he was going to do. I hope his soul met those of my son and my granddaughter, and all three are now in God's hands..."
XXII
E lena was exhausted and her nerves were in tatters. She felt she was missing something, that she could maybe have done more for Father Salas and that now she was utterly lost and hopeless. Esteban's words had only made matters worse.
She was trying to relax by taking a walk in the park, in the centre of the capital of Spain. It was a splendid morning. The rays of sunlight, filtered by the treetops, formed beautiful beams of light, like those that are used in religious or self-help books to represent heaven. How could she now find out what had happened to the priest, to Carlos and to Laura? She wouldn't have minded staying and living in that particular instant for the rest of her life.
She walked for a good while, taking short steps, while her brain worked restlessly. She thought that the best she could do now was to get away, maybe even spend some time at her parents,
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