“I don’t think I follow,” Vince said.
“The first ritual opened the gates,” Frank said. He was sitting on the couch, holding his can of Coke. “They probably invoked the names of whatever demons they have working with them. It was all done in preparation for the murder of your mother, which was designed to be both a revenge killing and to lead them to something bigger.”
“In other words, they’d already staked her out?” Vince asked. “They’d found her months before they actually killed her?”
Frank and Mike nodded. “Yes,” Mike said.
“Why didn’t they just bump her off then?”
“You still don’t understand these guys,” Frank said, looking grim. “The ritual they performed was also probably one of protection. They didn’t want to get caught. They wanted to throw confusion and chaos among the local population. And it worked.”
Vince was about to open his mouth again and blurt out another question, then stopped. He had to keep reminding himself that he was dealing with religious nuts. Religious nuts did all kinds of wacky things like perform suicide bomb missions for this or that jihad, or self flagellate themselves for whatever purification purposes. Or they killed abortion providers for God, or killed dogs to summon up demons from hell.
I can’t believe I’m dealing with this bullshit, Vince thought, nodding at Mike and Frank to continue.
“Jackie doesn’t know what will come next,” Mike said. “But she said that she was pretty convinced that was the group’s purpose. That Maggie’s murder was both an act of revenge and a ritual designed to go after somebody else.”
“Me,” Vince said.
“We don’t have solid proof of that,” Mike said.
“What about what happened today?”
“I admit that what happened today and last week in Irvine are disturbing,” Mike said. “But I really believe they aren’t related to the group responsible for your mother’s murder.”
“How can you say that? They tried to kill me!”
“Mike’s right,” Frank said. “Whoever tried to kill you today are not cut from the same mold as The Children of the Night. Those guys were operating more like hit men than deranged cult members.”
Suddenly, it hit him. The revelation sparked in Vince Walter’s mind so great that it was as if fireworks went off in his head. “Oh my God,” he said, feeling faint.
“What?” Mike looked worried. “Vince, you okay?”
“You’re right,” Vince said, his voice hoarse as his throat constricted. He could feel his heart pound in his ribcage. “The guys who tried to kill Tracy and me, the same guys who tried to get me today back in Lititz… they’re not part of this Children of the Night group.”
“About time you started listening,” Frank said, drinking his Coke dismissively.
“They’re part of an opposing group,” Vince said. He looked at Mike and Frank with dawning revelation. “A Christian one. And they’re trying to kill me because somehow they know.”
Mike appeared to catch on. “Goddamitt, Vince, I’ve told you that—”
“They’re trying to kill me because they know I’m the Anti-Christ.” Vince licked his lips nervously. “And this… this Children of the Night group… my mother took me all those years ago because she knew. And they’re trying to get me back.”
THEY ARGUED ABOUT it all night. Mike quickly changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt during the debate. The chilling revelation remained with Vince, yet part of him still couldn’t believe the accusations he was coming up with about himself. I don’t feel any different, he thought as Frank glared at him from across the room. I’ve never felt any different… like I was a god, or a demigod, or a demon, or whatever. I’m a blood and flesh human being. I don’t have supernatural powers. If I were the Anti-Christ—or the Messiah for that matter—wouldn’t I have some kind of supernatural power? Wouldn’t I have known before now?
Mike even verbalized this in the debate. “If you’re the Anti-Christ, Vince, prove it. Make something move with your mind.”
“Yeah,” Frank sneered, lounging on the bed. “Make that glass over there levitate.”
“Take a hike,” Vince said. He felt like a jerk for even bringing it up.
“I’m serious,” Mike said, stepping in front of Vince, looking at him sternly. “If you feel you’re the Anti-Christ, you should be one of the most powerful men on the planet. You should have some kind of magical powers. Let’s see you do something. Come on, hotshot, let’s see your stuff.”
“You’ve made your point,” Vince said. He was getting angry, and while he wanted that anger to be directed at Mike and Frank, what he felt was anger toward himself.
“Come on!” Mike was pressing the point. “Just try. Here.” He walked over to the other side of the room and picked up a plastic glass. “Focus on this glass. Try to tap into your psychic energy and push it off my hand.”
Vince rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
Frank nodded. “Go ahead. Try it.”
They were dead serious. He briefly considered retreating further into the shell he was beginning to build around himself, then decided to take the test. This would be proof positive. If he could move the glass by the sheer power of his will, and do it easily, then he would have the proof that he possessed supernatural powers. He knew that there were people that possessed telekinetic power, but this was different. Telekinetics usually had to summon up their power from some deep well within themselves. They had to work at it. If Vince were a supernatural being, he should be able to topple that glass over as easily as if he were doing it with his hands.
Vince focused on the glass, than willed his psychic energy toward it, not even knowing what he was doing or where to tap into it. He simply willed himself to push the glass off of Mike’s hand.
Nothing.
He concentrated harder. The skin of his forehead furrowed in concentration. He pictured the glass in his mind, visualized himself toppling it off of Mike’s hand with a single mental push.
It remained on Mike’s hand.
He relaxed and looked up at Mike. “I can’t.”
Mike grinned. “See? You don’t have supernatural powers, you dimwit.”
Vince relaxed. Mike’s jovial tone put him at ease. Maybe Mike and Frank were right. He was taking this much too seriously. He had to look at this from a logical angle. He’d never felt different around other people, and he surely didn’t feel any different now. He was not the Anti-Christ. He was simply a man. A man who was being stalked by two groups of crazed religious fanatics for whatever insane reason they may have.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry we had to argue about this, but…” he ran his hand through his hair. “What else could they be after me for? I mean, think about it.” He looked up at Mike and Frank, silently imploring them to at least consider his original reasoning for his crazy idea. “True, I don’t feel any different, and I don’t have supernatural powers. Fine. But these two groups are after me for some reason, and the only thing I can think of is that I must be important to them. I have a feeling that this Children of the Night group isn’t responsible for trying to kill me today. I don’t think they were involved in the botched attempt in Irvine, either. I think you guys presented some very logical explanations regarding this fact. And if you consider your own theories, you have to consider the possibility that if The Children of the Night is a group of crazed devil worshippers with an Armageddon complex, there has to be a Christian organization focusing on the same thing.”