hurting others for pleasure.”
“That’s right, Brother James,” Simon said, keeping as calm as the virgin in her shroud, as calm as a summer sea. His posture, facial expressions and mannerisms meant everything to his followers. After all the preaching, all the parables he offered, none of them really, truly believed in his mission until he showed them, on paper, what Matthew had said. That brought them on board. Simon’s job was to keep them rapt in his inner circle, fighting against the winds of evil.
“Who are the good? Who need to be Raptured and taken home?”
“God is almighty, all-seeing,” James said, reciting Simon’s teachings. “He is taking home everyone He desires, but there are a few that need our help. He has enlisted us to do his bidding. We’re on a mission—”
“That’s correct, Brother James, but who can go home?” Simon interjected, trying to get James to mellow out. “Who is authorized to be Raptured by our hands?”
“Good people. Ones that the Lord needs.”
“Correct again,” Simon said, his arms outstretched. “Wouldn’t you agree that police officers, who protect our women and children, are good people, deserving of Rapture?”
James scanned the room for support and, finding none, looked back up at Simon. “Yes, Brother Simon. I do.”
“In the future, examine your questions prior to asking them. Anyone else want to talk, let it out, discuss what happened? Discussion is important. Thinking, tantamount.”
No one responded.
“Good,” Simon said. “I’m going into the other room to call Matthew. We need direction here. Sarah is still our primary goal and Matthew will be able to tell us what to do. When I get a hold of my brother, I will rejoin the circle and tell you what I’ve discovered. We will reconvene to make things right. Are we all agreed?”
As Simon moved around the room, each man raised both hands heavenward, palms open and facing the ceiling, allowing God’s energy to course down their arms and into their soul, their hearts.
“Good, now pray, talk to God and then rest. No one leaves. We meet when I come out of the bedroom.”
In the bedroom, they had an altar set up for those that had passed over. Simon opened a bottle of salve and applied the white cream to the palms of his hands and soles of his feet. The cracking had become something of a pain recently. He would need to be diligent over the next few days with his skin and fingernails to keep them from getting infected. He had lived with ectodermal dysplasia for twenty-four years and had gone for countless doctors’ visits, dental surgeries for his teeth and tests. Always more tests.
Before leaving today, he had removed the dentures that covered the two pointed teeth on the bottom of his mouth. There was no need to be accepted by society, no need to appease the sensitive nature of the common people. God had created him and his brother in his image, and Simon needed to be proud of how he looked. He wouldn’t chastise or ridicule himself anymore—he would leave that to the ignorant and less educated.
He sat on a cushion in front of the altar, crossed his legs, placed his upturned hands on his knees, and began to pray.
He would wait for Matthew to call.
The Rapture was upon them and nothing could stop the Rapturites from sending Sarah Roberts home. She would die by Simon’s hand. When Simon changed his name, he also took on the role of bringing people to Jesus. He had every intention to deliver Sarah to God. Even if he died doing it.
There could be no greater honor.
Chapter 9
Sarah entered the hotel Dolan had arranged. At the desk, they gave her no trouble. Dolan had described her and said his daughter had lost her purse. He would join her later, but charge what she needed on his card. The young attendant at the counter had been overly nice, offering her candies from a large bowl. He had given her two keycards
“That’s right, Brother James,” Simon said, keeping as calm as the virgin in her shroud, as calm as a summer sea. His posture, facial expressions and mannerisms meant everything to his followers. After all the preaching, all the parables he offered, none of them really, truly believed in his mission until he showed them, on paper, what Matthew had said. That brought them on board. Simon’s job was to keep them rapt in his inner circle, fighting against the winds of evil.
“Who are the good? Who need to be Raptured and taken home?”
“God is almighty, all-seeing,” James said, reciting Simon’s teachings. “He is taking home everyone He desires, but there are a few that need our help. He has enlisted us to do his bidding. We’re on a mission—”
“That’s correct, Brother James, but who can go home?” Simon interjected, trying to get James to mellow out. “Who is authorized to be Raptured by our hands?”
“Good people. Ones that the Lord needs.”
“Correct again,” Simon said, his arms outstretched. “Wouldn’t you agree that police officers, who protect our women and children, are good people, deserving of Rapture?”
James scanned the room for support and, finding none, looked back up at Simon. “Yes, Brother Simon. I do.”
“In the future, examine your questions prior to asking them. Anyone else want to talk, let it out, discuss what happened? Discussion is important. Thinking, tantamount.”
No one responded.
“Good,” Simon said. “I’m going into the other room to call Matthew. We need direction here. Sarah is still our primary goal and Matthew will be able to tell us what to do. When I get a hold of my brother, I will rejoin the circle and tell you what I’ve discovered. We will reconvene to make things right. Are we all agreed?”
As Simon moved around the room, each man raised both hands heavenward, palms open and facing the ceiling, allowing God’s energy to course down their arms and into their soul, their hearts.
“Good, now pray, talk to God and then rest. No one leaves. We meet when I come out of the bedroom.”
In the bedroom, they had an altar set up for those that had passed over. Simon opened a bottle of salve and applied the white cream to the palms of his hands and soles of his feet. The cracking had become something of a pain recently. He would need to be diligent over the next few days with his skin and fingernails to keep them from getting infected. He had lived with ectodermal dysplasia for twenty-four years and had gone for countless doctors’ visits, dental surgeries for his teeth and tests. Always more tests.
Before leaving today, he had removed the dentures that covered the two pointed teeth on the bottom of his mouth. There was no need to be accepted by society, no need to appease the sensitive nature of the common people. God had created him and his brother in his image, and Simon needed to be proud of how he looked. He wouldn’t chastise or ridicule himself anymore—he would leave that to the ignorant and less educated.
He sat on a cushion in front of the altar, crossed his legs, placed his upturned hands on his knees, and began to pray.
He would wait for Matthew to call.
The Rapture was upon them and nothing could stop the Rapturites from sending Sarah Roberts home. She would die by Simon’s hand. When Simon changed his name, he also took on the role of bringing people to Jesus. He had every intention to deliver Sarah to God. Even if he died doing it.
There could be no greater honor.
Chapter 9
Sarah entered the hotel Dolan had arranged. At the desk, they gave her no trouble. Dolan had described her and said his daughter had lost her purse. He would join her later, but charge what she needed on his card. The young attendant at the counter had been overly nice, offering her candies from a large bowl. He had given her two keycards
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