“But Tracy isn’t even… human!” Vince was confused; his mind was whirling. “How could… I mean… when I met Laura shortly after…”
Brian’s smile faded a little. “We never anticipated that,” he said. “How could we? You were doing so well. Your love for money, for mammon, had been greater than love for your fellow man for so long that when that part of you was awakened by Laura, we knew something had to be done. So,” he shrugged, “it was taken care of.”
The implications of what Brian just said hit him like a ton of bricks. His mind reeled. He blinked back more tears, feeling the fear that had gripped his chest melt into something else, something that grew hot and bubbled to the surface of his psyche as he struggled to contain his emotions. “You…” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You had her killed? But she…” he gasped, thinking back on that day when Laura had her accident. “But she… it was an accident! You mean to tell me you… cursed her somehow? Caused her car to lose control and fly off the road like that?”
“Of course,” Brian said, smiling. His eyes were black pits that reflected the depths of his soul. “What else would you expect us to do?”
The memories he had of Laura, his best friend, the woman who had awakened feelings he never thought he would have, the woman who had made him a man, bubbled to the surface. He experienced a brief epiphany of not only her memories, but what had been lurking in the shadows the entire time he’d been with her; Brian and Kimberly Dennison, their friends, wearing masks of kindness and love all the while secretly plotting Laura’s demise. And all because Vince had allowed Laura into his life, had allowed himself to feel the love of another person. If he hadn’t let Laura into his life she’d still be alive. The pain of her death that had fallen on her parents, her family, her friends, wouldn’t have happened. And as he realized this, the heat that Vince felt bubbling to the surface came pouring out of him. It came out of him like a blinding white-hot miasma, pouring out of him in waves. He let it propel his emotions forward and he screamed in anguish, at the pain he felt over her death. He tipped his head back and screamed in agony and hate, his eyes closed against the world, seeing only red.
“Yes, Andrew,” Samuel Garrison said. His wizened features were wrinkled in triumph. His dark eyes blazed. “Let the anger and the hate pour out of you. Let it be your guide. Let it compel you!”
Vince continued screaming, no longer able to control himself. All he could experience, all he could feel, was the blind hate he now felt. He’d found all of this so unbelievable, so fantastically absurd, that now that it was staring him in the face he couldn’t deal with it. Worse, they’d killed Laura! Why couldn’t they have just…
“We couldn’t have just left her alone, Andrew,” Samuel Garrison said, now joining Tracy at his side. The old man was standing next to him, his face inches from Vince’s. “She was part of it; she was nudged into your life by the Dark Father himself. She was a willing sacrifice and she didn’t even know it. Her death was to prove that what is inside you would come out and it’s coming out just fine now, so let it out. Let the hate and the anger and the rage you feel come out and take over. Let it overwhelm you. And then use it to your advantage; use it to do the bidding that you were born to do!”
His rage and hate was pouring out of him so swiftly, so fiercely, that he didn’t even know he’d so much in him. He felt it invade every pore, every blood vessel, every nook and cranny in his system and it was so overwhelming, all so pervading, that he felt something else enter him. And when he felt it, it seemed like a switch went on in his head and then he felt a sudden surge of power! And the power he felt was good. It was filling him with something he could only describe as otherworldly, spiritual. And as he screamed in rage and frustration he heard the dim voices of the people in the room as they crowded around him, encouraging him on, chanting beside him. He opened his eyes, not even aware that a spark had lit them, that they now glimmered with something else, something dark and full of rage and purpose. And when they saw it, the people in the room—Gladys and Tom Black, Paul and Opal, his old childhood friend Nellie and her father, Samuel Garrison, Brian and Kimberly Dennison, all of them began chanting.
“Hail Satan!” Brian and Kimberly Dennison chanted in unison, looking at Vince with what looked like awe.
“Hail Andrew!” The room chanted.
“Hail to the One Who Will Claim the World as Ours!” Samuel Garrison thundered.
A roaring cacophony: “Hail Satan! Ruler of the Earth, Destroyer of Christ, Savior to Us All. All Hail the Red Opener, gateway to Hanbi! Hail Satan! Hail Andrew!”
And as the voices roared in his head, as the people gathered in the room paid him the ultimate knowledge, Vincent Walters tipped his head back and let his rage and hate and anger take over, and then he really went mad.
Epilogue
September 13, 2004
VINCE WALTERS WAS in his office going over contracts when his secretary called him on his secure line.
Vince answered on speaker-phone. “Yes.”
“There’s a woman here to see you,” Barbara said. She sounded flustered. “She doesn’t have an appointment and—”
“Then send her away,” Vince said, turning back to his paperwork, dismissing her.
“I’ve tried and I was just about to call security but she’s insisting I call you first.” Barbara sounded pissed off now and Vince looked up from his paperwork, curious. Barbara never got angry. She could turn away the most ambitious salesman. Whoever this woman was, she’d really gotten under Barbara’s skin.
“Who is she?” Vince asked.
“She says—” Barbara began and then she was cut off by the sound of another woman’s voice, demanding something. Barbara said, “Ma’am, I’m telling him. Now will you please be patient!” To Vince: “She says her name is Brandy Black and that you knew her husband Frank. She’s requesting a meeting and I’ve told her that your calendar—”
“Send her in,” Vince said, frowning.
Barbara started, her voice surprised. “Send her in?”
“Send her in,” Vince confirmed. He hung up and began sweeping the papers he was working on into a folder labeled Al Azif Project. He’d finished the deal on this last year, shortly after making presidency of the corporation. He was not only in charge of World Accounts, the Al Azif project had been handed to him without question. He invested the funds in high yield stocks and bonds, channeled the profits to various offshore accounts and wiped his hands clean of it. In the years to come, the project would fund various weapons technologies intended for the US Government’s so-called War Against Terror. It would also fund biological research that would be a fundamental part of this new weapon. Once engaged, the group’s plans could move forward.
He swept the file into the top folder of his desk, making a mental note to place it in his safe when the door to his office opened and a dark-haired woman walked in.
Barbara was behind her, looking flustered. “Mr. Walters I tried to—”
“It’s all right,” Vince said, rising to his feet and buttoning his sport coat. He held his hand out to one of the two soft leather chairs in front of his desk and smiled at Brandy Black. “Mrs. Black. Nice to meet you. Please, have a seat.”