Watcher of the Dark: A Jeremiah Hunt Supernatual Thriller (The Jeremiah Hunt Chronicle) by Joseph Nassise Page A
Authors: Joseph Nassise
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the word Templars in her direction, but she just grinned that stupid “Wouldn’t you like to know?” grin back at me and refused to say a word.
Bitch.
As Rivera pulled away from the curb, Max sat back in his seat. I tugged on his sleeve.
“Who the hell is St. Vibiana?” I whispered. I’ll be the first to admit that I’d let my Catholic faith lapse years ago, but I didn’t remember hearing that name in any of my catechism classes as a youth.
I felt him lean in close.
“Patron saint of Nobodies,” he said.
I had the distinct sense he wasn’t joking.
Leave it to the Catholic Church to cover all the bases.
Rivera drove past the building and around the corner to a maze of side streets. He made several turns and then pulled the van over at the edge of a local park.
“Everybody out.”
Grady and Max produced small penlights and flipped them on. Rivera then led us through the park and into a small copse of trees. It was even darker beneath the boughs, making it easier for me to see than it was for the others, and I found myself walking just behind Rivera as we neared the edge of the trees.
Ahead of us was the rear of the church.
He waited for the others to catch up and then checked his watch. Looking at Grady, he said, “The patrol comes by again in two and a half minutes. We need to be inside by then.”
Grady grinned. “No problem.”
Without another word he turned and dashed off across the lawn, headed for the rear of the church. The rest of us followed as quickly as we could.
As we drew closer I could see Grady crouched in front of a single door, using a set of picks to try to open the lock. He was working entirely by feel, his head turned away so he wouldn’t be distracted by what he was seeing. His focus was total and he didn’t even bother to glance up as the rest of us reached the door and gathered around him.
In the distance, I saw the gleam of a flashlight in the hands of the guard as he made his way toward us.
“Patrol’s coming,” I whispered, not wanting to distract Grady but knowing the rest of us were going to have to make a decision about what to do if he failed to get the door open in time.
Grady cursed quietly under his breath and redoubled his efforts.
The patrol drew closer, near enough that I could see the guard was carrying a firearm in addition to the flashlight.
“Come on, come on!” Rivera whispered.
Grady glanced at him, annoyed, and then gave his picks a quick little twist.
The door slid open without a sound.
We were in!
We piled through the entrance and pushed the door shut just as the flashlight outside slid across where we’d been standing moments before.
I held my breath, fully expecting the guard to notice something amiss and waiting for the hue and cry to go up at the discovery, but the night remained quiet and after a moment the patrol moved on as well.
I wasn’t the only one to let out a deep breath of air.
The team worked like a well-oiled unit, and it was clear they had done this sort of thing together before. They waited for Perkins to get his bearings and then we headed in his wake. With the lights off inside the church it was like broad daylight for me, so I slipped the sunglasses off my face and put them away in my pocket as we moved into the sanctuary proper.
The church was gorgeous, if you were into that sort of thing. Intricately carved wooden statues, gilded trimmings, a gold-flecked railing surrounding the altar; the parish certainly had money to burn, it seemed. Flashlights were flipped on. Like a bloodhound on the scent, Max led us past the altar to a section of the rear wall that looked like one large wooden panel to me. He stared at it for a moment and then reached out and pressed a section of the decorative trim.
Nothing happened.
Perkins frowned, cocked his head to one side, and let his eyes glaze over.
The rest of us waited as patiently as we could.
A moment passed.
Then two.
Grady cleared his throat just as Perkins came back
Bitch.
As Rivera pulled away from the curb, Max sat back in his seat. I tugged on his sleeve.
“Who the hell is St. Vibiana?” I whispered. I’ll be the first to admit that I’d let my Catholic faith lapse years ago, but I didn’t remember hearing that name in any of my catechism classes as a youth.
I felt him lean in close.
“Patron saint of Nobodies,” he said.
I had the distinct sense he wasn’t joking.
Leave it to the Catholic Church to cover all the bases.
Rivera drove past the building and around the corner to a maze of side streets. He made several turns and then pulled the van over at the edge of a local park.
“Everybody out.”
Grady and Max produced small penlights and flipped them on. Rivera then led us through the park and into a small copse of trees. It was even darker beneath the boughs, making it easier for me to see than it was for the others, and I found myself walking just behind Rivera as we neared the edge of the trees.
Ahead of us was the rear of the church.
He waited for the others to catch up and then checked his watch. Looking at Grady, he said, “The patrol comes by again in two and a half minutes. We need to be inside by then.”
Grady grinned. “No problem.”
Without another word he turned and dashed off across the lawn, headed for the rear of the church. The rest of us followed as quickly as we could.
As we drew closer I could see Grady crouched in front of a single door, using a set of picks to try to open the lock. He was working entirely by feel, his head turned away so he wouldn’t be distracted by what he was seeing. His focus was total and he didn’t even bother to glance up as the rest of us reached the door and gathered around him.
In the distance, I saw the gleam of a flashlight in the hands of the guard as he made his way toward us.
“Patrol’s coming,” I whispered, not wanting to distract Grady but knowing the rest of us were going to have to make a decision about what to do if he failed to get the door open in time.
Grady cursed quietly under his breath and redoubled his efforts.
The patrol drew closer, near enough that I could see the guard was carrying a firearm in addition to the flashlight.
“Come on, come on!” Rivera whispered.
Grady glanced at him, annoyed, and then gave his picks a quick little twist.
The door slid open without a sound.
We were in!
We piled through the entrance and pushed the door shut just as the flashlight outside slid across where we’d been standing moments before.
I held my breath, fully expecting the guard to notice something amiss and waiting for the hue and cry to go up at the discovery, but the night remained quiet and after a moment the patrol moved on as well.
I wasn’t the only one to let out a deep breath of air.
The team worked like a well-oiled unit, and it was clear they had done this sort of thing together before. They waited for Perkins to get his bearings and then we headed in his wake. With the lights off inside the church it was like broad daylight for me, so I slipped the sunglasses off my face and put them away in my pocket as we moved into the sanctuary proper.
The church was gorgeous, if you were into that sort of thing. Intricately carved wooden statues, gilded trimmings, a gold-flecked railing surrounding the altar; the parish certainly had money to burn, it seemed. Flashlights were flipped on. Like a bloodhound on the scent, Max led us past the altar to a section of the rear wall that looked like one large wooden panel to me. He stared at it for a moment and then reached out and pressed a section of the decorative trim.
Nothing happened.
Perkins frowned, cocked his head to one side, and let his eyes glaze over.
The rest of us waited as patiently as we could.
A moment passed.
Then two.
Grady cleared his throat just as Perkins came back
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