“No! Stop! Please, don’t.” In anguish Paul cried out, “Rosita!”
“Pestis ex locusta. Intriguing, isn’t it? I think, instead of letting her provide the paint for my work, I’m going to cut her open and fill her belly with them while she’s still alive.”
The muted screams increased. Paul covered his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. Keren saw tears seeping out from under his fingers.
“It worked didn’t it, Reverend?” Caldwell crooned. “You’re involved again.”
“It worked, Caldwell,” Paul said furiously. “I’m back in.”
The phone cut off. It wasn’t long enough. Keren slapped her phone shut with a growl of rage.
Her phone rang again. It was Higgins. “We’ve got him! We got him a minute in.”
“How? It wasn’t long enough.” Keren went to look out the window. Hundreds, maybe thousands of apartments where the front window of the mission could be visible. He was in one of them.
“I’ve already got cars en route. We had them stationed in the neighborhood.”
“Where? Tell me.”
Paul’s eyes sharpened and he moved close enough to listen to Higgins.
“We didn’t need to trace him. Morris had us hide a bug on Rosita to trace her. We’ve been watching it ever since we identified her on the phone.”
“He did?” Keren shot Paul a look. “He didn’t tell me he did that.”
“I haven’t had a chance.” Grabbing her phone, Paul said, “Just tell me where she is.”
“He’s in that brownstone across and one south of the mission. GPS places him on the top floor.”
“Of course it’s the top,” Paul said. “Caldwell likes the penthouse.”
“Get over there,” Higgins ordered. “Seal off that building as best you can, but don’t go in. We’re only minutes away.”
They both ran. Keren hit the button that dialed O’Shea. He answered on the first ring. “Has the FBI clued you in?”
“Yes, I’m on the way—”
“We’re almost there.” Keren cut him off. “Right across the street from the mission. One building to the south.”
“We should have kicked in every door in that area.” O’Shea was running, breathing hard while he talked. “We knew he was close.”
“There are ten thousand doors, O’Shea.” Keren knew Caldwell was looking right at them. There was no way he wouldn’t see them rushing across the street. He knew. He’d be moving. He’d be killing Rosita.
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“He’s got Rosita.” Keren picked up her speed.
“The little cook from the mission?”
“We heard her screaming, Mick. And Caldwell was watching us, looking right in the front window. He told me what I’m wearing. We’re not waiting until you get here to back us up. We’re going in now. We’ve got to stop him from killing her!”
“Keren, don’t! You know he was ready for us last time. You could be running straight into a trap!”
Paul pulled the door to the brownstone open and began sprinting up the stairs. Keren felt the demonic presence the instant she stepped inside. The call from O’Shea dropped in the concrete stairwell, but she couldn’t talk and run anyway. Jamming the phone in her pocket, she picked up her speed to stay with Paul. Four flights. Every second they were closing in on him, but he had another stairway to use to get away, besides the fire escapes. Caldwell might evade them, but he’d have a hard time doing it with Rosita tossed over his shoulder.
They charged on until they reached the top. Paul began kicking in doors. Keren said, “Don’t waste your time. He’s in that one.” She ran straight for the door at the far end of the hall. The evil was so thick she had trouble inhaling. The door practically vibrated with the contained demonic power.
Keren pulled her weapon and kicked the door in. Rosita lay in her white death shroud, her arms spread out at her sides, blood and locusts everywhere. “Paul, she’s here!”
Paul ran past Keren. He was already on the phone, calling an ambulance. Keren entered the room with her gun held in two hands, extended straight in front of her. A locust landed on her face. She ignored it.
She turned quickly in a circle. He was here, but she couldn’t pinpoint the evil. It was everywhere. She turned again, gun ready. There was a door ajar that led to the kitchen. There were four other doors in the apartment, all closed. Closets, bedrooms, bathrooms, Keren studied them, still turning, still trying to cover them all. Her heart pounded until she thought it might explode out of her chest. The evil was choking her. She prayed for strength as she waited, trying to keep Rosita safe until help could get here or they could get out. Releasing one hand from the gun, she pulled out her phone to tell Higgins exactly where they were.
Paul finished shouting directions into his phone. He tugged a knife out of his boot. Keren had known he’d arm himself somehow.
Rosita had been cut, but it didn’t look life threatening. Locusts swarmed everywhere and flew thick in the air. Keren hit the speed dial for O’Shea’s number then swiped her upper arm across her face to knock the locust away, all without letting go of her gun or stopping her rigid watch on the doors that hid Caldwell.
Paul slit the tape on Rosita’s arms and ankles. She flailed as if she were fighting Paul’s help. He got to her mouth last and very carefully pulled at the corner of the tape. Rosita grabbed at the tape and ripped it away with a scream of pain.
“Get out,” she screamed. “He’s here!”
The lights went out.
Keren realized in a split second that the windows in the room were boarded over. The hall door had swung shut whether by accident or design. She’d bet on design.
Suddenly the evil had a direction. Keren heard the slight squeak of a door opening. She whirled around to face one of the closed doors.
Rosita shouted, “Pastor P, the killer is…” A crushing blow to Keren’s hands knocked her gun to the floor. Her phone went flying. “Paul!”
The dull thud on her head cut off her cry for help.
“Stretch out your hand toward the sky so that darkness will spread over Egypt—darkness that can be felt. “
EXODUS 10:21
Pravus felt it, and he made sure Kerenhappuch felt it, too. At least she’d be able to feel it when she woke. He pulled the rough wool over her head and tossed her over his shoulder. He felt the strain of it. Yes, he’d honed his muscles, but he’d also drained his own blood when he needed to create. It was telling on his strength.
But he managed. He did what he had to do.
He vanished out of the apartment through the passage he’d spent so much time creating. It was the work of seconds to secure her with tape. He dumped her limp body in his trunk, was out of the garage and driving toward the expressway before he heard the first police sirens.
Paul heard it all.
Over Rosita’s shouts, he heard the squeak of a door opening. A quick rush of footsteps on a loose floorboard…
Keren yelling his name…
The whoosh of something solid swinging through the air… The clatter of a gun hitting the floor… The sickening thud that cut off Keren’s words…
Then silence.
Darkness. The plague of darkness.
“He’s here, Pastor P. He’s doing all of this. He killed Juanita.” Rosita broke into sobs. “He hurt LaToya.”
Paul ran toward the sound Keren made, but there was only darkness. “Keren,” he roared. “Keren, answer me.”
But she didn’t, and he knew that could only mean one thing. She couldn’t. Fighting down panic, he groped wildly, trying to latch onto something, anything. Rosita crashed into him, sobbing and crying out the identity of the man who’d taken her.