A Prayer For Sin
Written By:
A.L. Williams










“Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.”
Psalm34:14

Chapter 1

Meet Agent Hughes


August 8th 6:35 AM
In the near future, on a hot stormy morning in Kremlin City, Wyoming, a minivan slowly comes to a stop. It sets in a no parking zone, just west of a place known as the “Olde Abandoned Warehouse.” The front of the vehicle is badly damaged. Headlights are smashed, front bumper is gone, and the hood is dented inward. The war-torn vehicle is also covered with a large amount of bullet holes. Inside sits a man, breathing rapidly, with watery eyes. He has a head wound of some kind and blood seeping from the right side of his mouth. The bullet in his left leg caused him to lose a great deal of blood. He is unable to lift his arms or move his legs, making it impossible to drive to the hospital which is only two blocks away. Delirium has set in and he begins to panic. He fears for his life and the life of the passenger in the back seat. His vision goes from blurry to somewhat clear over and over again. He is beginning to lose consciousness and there is a loud ringing in his ears. In his state of shock, he did not realize that a police vehicle had pulled up from behind.
“I don’t need this crap today,” said the slim, blonde haired officer as he stepped out of his vehicle into the rain, “I gotta get this over with quick.”
As the raincoat donning patrolman approaches the 2004 Nissan Quest, he begins writing out a citation for illegal parking. He stops pacing and starts copying the license plate number.
“JL59729", mumbled the officer.
As he writes down the last few numbers, a faint hissing sound catches his attention. At the hood of the minivan, he could see steam rising. After a brief inspection of the vehicle, he came to realize that something was wrong. The bullet holes and the damaged back window, cause the hair on his neck to stand up. His eyes widen after noticing the back of a man’s head in the driver’s seat. Drawing his weapon, he gently steps toward the driver’s side and can see that the window is open. The patrolman knocks on the side of the vehicle, but detects no movement from his shirtless suspect.
“Sir, step out of the vehicle.”
The driver peers at him and tries to speak, but nothing comes out.
“Sir, step out of the vehicle right now!”
The patrolman becomes more suspicious, when something new catches his eye. He looked into the back seat and saw a young child clothed in an adult’s dress shirt, lying on her right side. There is blood on her left leg, which puts the officer in an even more state of readiness. He turns his attention back to the driver, pointing his gun.
“Get out of the vehicle”, keep your hands where I can see em!”
Tears fall down the driver’s face as he tries desperately to communicate with the officer.
“Get out of the vehicle right now and put your hands where I can see em!”
The driver opens his mouth and is able to force out only one word.
“Help...”
The officer opens the door to the minivan and notices wounds the man is suffering from. He holsters his weapon and dashes for his patrol car.
“How could I be so stupid?” thought the officer.
The wounded man could hear the cop on the radio, frantically calling for help.
“This is Officer Mark Stone, I need back up at the corner of Turner and Smith!” “I need an ambulance!” “I have a man with a gunshot wound to the left leg, and a possible gunshot wound to the head!” “I also have a girl approximately ten to twelve years of age with possible gunshot wounds!” “She’s unconscious!”
The driver suddenly feels a sense of relief, and blacks out.
August 16th 10:00 A.M.
Crappy equipment is usually not expensive, unless it comes from almost any hospital in Kremlin City. An electric wheelchair with rust so thick, it leaves behind a trail of flakes when the brakes are applied. The sound of potato chips being stepped on comes to mind when the chair is in motion. The origin of the constant woodpecker type sound in one of the wheels cannot be located. Sometimes the joystick device needed to operate this piece of equipment, stalls. This can be temporally fixed if the occupant were to use a fist like a mallet. In this overpriced wheelchair, sets a man whom is lucky to be alive.
Using his right hand to feel the bandages on his head, reminds him of how grateful he is to the doctor for removing the buckshot from his skull. He is also thankful to whoever donated the blood that saved his life and his leg after the bullet was removed. On his lap, lay a bag filled with ice, which he picks up and puts it to his right cheekbone to help reduce the swelling. The headache he suffers from makes it difficult to use his eyes, but he does so anyway. He peers impatiently around at the unfamiliar surroundings of the room he was forced to wait in. He has been there for two hours and wonders why he has to wait so long. Intimidation was his first thought when he first entered this grey walled room with only one table, one chair, and one very large mirror on the east end. Now fear has turned to frustration and the pain he is in does not help the situation. The waiting finally comes to an end once the only door in this room, suddenly swings open.
“Hello Mr. Conrad.” said the agent. “My name is Special Agent Hughes, I’m with the F.B.I.”
“Joe”.
“Excuse me sir?” asked Hughes.
“Call me Joe”
“Ok Joe, I have to say, you look much better then I thought you would. The doctors tell me that you had a lot more wounds that weren’t discovered by the patrolman.”
Joe glares at Hughes with a look of impatience.but does not say a word.
“I know you’re anxious to get out of here and I’m sorry you were made to wait so long,” said the agent, “But there are some questions that need to be answered.”
“You must not need these questions answered too badly.” responded Joe “I’ve been in this damn room for two hours!”
“Take it easy Joe”, said Hughes with a sympathetic voice.
Agent Hughes peers at Joe with eyes that are as sympathetic as his voice. He takes a moment to observe a man who once had an appearance of good grooming, but is now in need of a haircut and shave. He looks into Conrad’s eyes, knowing that the anger and sadness behind them were probably once filled with love and compassion.
“Do you have to look at me like that?” asked Joe
“Sorry, it’s just that you kinda look like that guy from “Twister.”
“Yeah, it was great movie!” Explodes Joe; “Saw it twice, now can shit we please get this over with?”
“You shouldn’t cuss like that, aren’t you a Pastor?”
“I was,” Responds Joe. “I don’t know what I am anymore.”
“Well Joe, I think you should be happy that I’m on this case.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’m the only one whose willing to believes you.” explains Hughes, “The other agents think you should be brought up on charges.”
“For what?” Asked Joe as his voice becomes more aggressive
“They think you’re behind the disappearance of your wife and son.”
“They did not disappear!” said Joe angrily; “And you can tell your friends to go to hell!”
“You’re not helping yourself Mr. Conrad.” explained Hughes in a mellow voice, “Now calm down and tell me what happened. If they didn’t disappear, where are they? Who shot you and why? And this thing with your daughter.....”
Before the agent can finish his statement, Joe somehow manages to forcibly stand up, forgetting the pain in his leg. The wheelchair falls over, and the large table between them, is shifted by Conrad’s arm.
“Don’t say another word about my daughter!” raged Joe, “Not one word! Don’t say anything! Do you understand me? Nothing,! Nothing! shouting and flailing his arms.
Agent Hughes watched as Joe’s eyes became filled with angry tears. He then turned his head to peer at the large mirror behind him and raised one eyebrow.
“Yeah right.“ chuckled the man on the other side of the two-way glass
Hughes returned his focus to Joe, but remains silent, noticing that his lips were quivering and his hands were shaking. The agent very patiently readjusted the table, then walked over to the wheelchair. Not saying anything, Hughes picked up the chair and brought it to Joe. He did not bother asking the former Pastor to sit down or how he was able to get up in the first place, because he did not want to enrage him further. The agent then sat down in his seat and waited patiently for Joe to calm down.
As Joe steadily began reaching for the chair, he could feel the pain in his leg again. The throbbing in his head caused dizziness.
“Would you like some aspirin Pastor?”
“No thank you.”
Conrad took his seat and stared curiously at Hughes. Joe studied this masculine man with bushy brown hair and well defined face, and tried to understand why he was such a tolerant person.
At that moment, he realized that Agent Hughes was the only friend he had. Joe took in a deep breath and let it out slow.
“You know what?” asked Joe, “You kinda look like that pissed off prison guard in The Shawshank Redemption.”
“Yeah, I saw that movie.” Said Hughes Jokingly, “Twice, now can we please get this over with?”
Joe looked at the sarcastic smile on the agent’s face and could not help but form one of his own. After their humorous moment passed, Joe took in another deep breath, this time, exhaling quickly.
“It started about four months ago.”









Chapter 2

Opportunity Knocks

May 18th 8:30 AM
Conrad Family Resident
“Dad, this is so stupid.”
“No Katie, it’s not. It’s been our family tradition as far back as the early 1900's.”
“It’s still kinda silly.”
“Look, would you just wear it as a favor to me?”
“But I already have my charm bracelet. Why do I need another one?”
“I told you, its tradition.”
“Dad, come on....”
“Look, why don’t you just take the bracelet down to that store in the mall that does engravings? Get some diamonds or whatever, to make it look really pretty, ok.” Said Joe
Katie’s eyes droop as she slightly leans her head forward and continues to listen to her father.
“Do what you have to do to make wearing this bracelet feel good to you.” Continued Joe “Either way, you’re gonna wear it, and that’s that. Please don’t make me pull rank.”
“You just did.” responds Katie in a low sarcastic voice.
Joe looked at his daughter feeling slightly irritated. The irritation went away rather quickly when he mentally compared her face and voice to a young Samantha Burton from the classic sequel “The Sandlot - Part 2”, whom just happens to be the biggest movie star now in 2013. He wanted to explain to his daughter that the only person in their family ever to break the tradition of the “Family Bracelet” was her grandfather. Joe was secretly glad that she never had the opportunity to meet him. Alcoholism was introduced to the Conrad family tree by Joseph Conrad Sr. about twenty years ago. That little fact was best left in the past. When Katie noticed the expression of annoyance leave from her father’s face and change to a look of hurt feelings, she peered back at him with remorseful eyes.
“I’m sorry Dad, I didn’t mean to get you all worked up.” Said Katie, “It’s just that I think it’s weird to have to wear a bracelet with.....”
“Ding-Dong”, “Ding-Dong”
“Who could that be this early?” asked Katie.
“I don’t know, but you’re going to be late for school young lady.” Said Joe, “Go, take off, call if you need anything, ok?”
“Yes sir.”
The door opened and Katie troted along, giving a gleeful smile to the elderly gentleman standing outside. She playfully skiped pass him and down the street toward her school. The old man kept his eyes fixated on her until she disappeared.
“Excuse me, can I help you?”
The octogenarian turned around and noticed a man with a look of shock on his face.
“Pastor Arlester?” Said a stunned Joe, “Is that you”?
Pastor Louis Arlester was one of the two individuals whom were the founding fathers of the “Woody/Arlester Bible College.” The other, died back in 1981.
“Yeah Joe, it’s me.”
Joe quickly walked up to his mentor and gave him a hug. His eyes were filled with tears because he had not seen this man for about twenty years. Conrad recalled the day he first met Mr.Arlester at the age of eighteen. He remembered how this wonderful man came to find him in a home for the mentally challenged, and how he took him under his wing counseling him, trying to undo the psychological damage caused by the late Joe Sr. Joseph Conrad could not stop crying for almost a solid hour.

May 18th 9:37 A.M.
Pastor Louis Arlester sat on a couch watching Joe wipe away his tears. Joe leaned back in his recliner and peered happily at his mentor.
“How did you find out where I live?” asked Joe.
“Well, you know I’ve always had good resources.” responded Louis.
“Yes sir, I do.” said Joe with a smile. “I just can’t believe I’m looking at you right now.” “What have you been up to?” asked Joe
“I’ve been overseas, in England, soul winning, you know, spreading the word of God.” said Louis “That was about eighteen years ago.”
“Did your wife finally get you to retire?”
“She sure did. She convinced me to live with our boys in Cherry Hills.”
“And how are they doing?”
“Well, not too good since their momma died.”
Joe sat up in his recliner, allowing his feet to rest on the floor. He leaned forward and placed his elbows onto his knees and covered his mouth with his right hand. He was shocked to know his mentor’s wife had died, but he chose to keep silent, not wanting to open old wounds.
“Sean, my oldest, is kinda icy. He’s a sheriff down in Cherry Hills. It’s rare to see emotion of his face anymore. Patrick attends Conway University down in Rock Springs. He lives in a dorm there. He’s trying to become an RN. He seems happy when I hear from him, but he doesn’t stay in touch very often.”
“So who looks after you sir?” worried Joe.
“That’s kinda why I’m here to see you Joe.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been preaching at a church in Cherry Hills for a lot of years now. The folks in my town talked me into retiring, and at my age it didn’t take much to convince me. I have a pretty big favor to ask of you Joe. It could change your life and your family’s life considerably.”
“Sir, you certainly have my attention.”
“Joe Jr.”
Conrad never had the heart to tell his mentor how much he hated being called Joe Jr.
“How would you feel about moving to Cherry Hills with your family, and take over my church as Pastor?”
Joe sat silently in utter astonishment.
“Hello, Joe Jr., anybody home?”
Conrad peers at his mentor, with his shiny bald head, yellow teeth, and grey eyes. He took a moment to reminisce about the fascination Mr. Arlester had about movies and how that fascination had rubbed off on him. To Joe, everyone looked like someone he had seen in a movie at one time or another. When he looked at his mentor, it was actor, Robert Loggia.
“Sir, I’m going to have to talk to my family about this.” said Joe “Making a move this big could be quite costly.”
“I don’t think you understand son. Not only will the trip be financed, but you’ll have a new home, with a two car garage, and possibly a second job.”
“This sounds way too good to be true.”
“Do you really think I would lie too you?”
“No sir, of coarse not. It’s just that I’ve wanted to move my family out of this neighborhood for a very long time. It’s bad here. I cringe every time my daughter goes off to school.”
“How’s your son? What’s his name?”
“How did you know I have son?” said a dumbfounded Joe.
“That picture on the wall looks too recent to be you.”
“Oh.....He’s doing fine. I was so happy when he graduated high school, but then he dropped a bombshell on me.”
“How’s that?”
“He says he wants to be in the Air Force.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m happy with his decision, it’s just that with everything going on overseas....well, I’m just scared for him, that’s all.”
At that moment, the front door opened. Joe smiled when his son, with the face of former heartthrob, Josh Hartnett, walked in wearing a new suit. At eighteen years old, the tall, handsome young man graduated from high school at the top of his class and was now making good money. With his bright smile, short brown hair, and eyes that illuminate on every billboard in the city, it is no wonder that he has been chosen to be one of “People Magazine’s” top 100 hottest new models of 2013.
“Hello Frankie, come meet a friend of mine.”
“Hi Dad. Hi there, I’m Frank Conrad.” with his hand extended.
“Hello young man, we were just talking about you. Name’s Louis Arlester.”
“Pastor Arlester?” asked Frank “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
After shaking hands, Frank paused for a moment and forms a curious frown on his face.
“Wait a second, what were you guys saying about me?”
“Son, I told him about you wanting to be in the Air Force.”
“Oh man,” Frank said excitedly, “Thanks for reminding me. I have to get cleaned up and changed. I’ve got to meet with a recruiter in an hour, then I’m going on a lunch date.”
“A date?” asked Joe “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend son!”
“Well, she’s not my girlfriend yet. Look, I’ll explain everything tonight at dinner, ok Pop?” “I gotta run, see ya later.”
The two men watched Frank head up the stairway.
“Ahhh” sighed Joe, “My wife and I can hardly keep up with the kids anymore.”
Pastor Arlester always had a gift for knowing what was going on in other people’s lives. That gift never got under Joe’s skin, until now.
“Does Whitney still take her asthma medication?”
“How did you know about my wife’s medication?” asked Joe in a low mono-toned voice. “How did you even know my wife’s name?”
“Joe Jr., you’re talking to me like you don’t know me. You know her mother worked with me in the institution where I met you. You also know that my boys attended your wedding in my behalf because I was in England during that time.”
“I’m sorry sir; I guess I just forgot......”
The pair sat quietly.....

May 18th 6:00 PM

The best kind of chicken that money can buy is breast meat, boneless, and skinless. It comes frozen, in a bag for about eleven dollars. The poultry is put into a large, deep pot, filled with water. Bringing the water to a boil will cause the chicken to get rid of things no human being wants to digest. The blood and bacteria float to the top of the boiling water, taking on a sponge-like form. The next step is to wash the poultry under cold running water, and then put each piece into a large container filled with one cup of water, five flo.oz of teriyaki marinade, and a teaspoon of oregano. The marinade process takes about one hour. After that, put the chicken in a glass casserole dish, along with eighty percent of the marinade. Lightly season the meat with All-Spice and Garlic-Parsley salt. Cover the dish with aluminum foil and put into oven set for 350 degrees. Cooking time can be fifteen minutes to half an hour. This tender meat chicken is going to be served with white rice and a side of green beans, seasoned with two teaspoons of sugar and one teaspoon of butter. This particular meal has been prepared once a week for the past sixteen years.
“Mom, nobody can cook chicken like you.”
“You said it bro!”
“Thanks kids, I’m glad you like it.”
“Whitney, what’s this rice seasoned with?” asked Joe. “This is different then before.”
“I ran out of beef- bouillon cubes, so I used the all-spice and garlic salt.”
Joe slowly glanced around the dinner table at his family, wondering how they would react to the offer he was about to make. Especially his wife, with her beautiful smile, warm eyes, and long red hair, very similar to actress Diane Lane. He knew that if she did not agree with the idea of moving to Cherry Hills, it would be pointless trying to convince the children. Not wanting to rush the situation, he decides to let his kids lead the conversation.
“So Frankie how was your date?”
“What? You had a date? Who in their right mind would want to date you?”
“Shut up Katie...”
“Make me..”
“Alright you two. I’d like to hear about this date. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend Franklin.”
“She’s not my girlfriend Mom, and after our date, I doubt she will be.”
“What went wrong dear?” asked Whitney.
“Nothing went wrong; it’s just that she’s like all the other girls in this neighborhood.”
“What do you mean son?” asked Joe.
Joe already knew what his son’s answer would be. Frank is mentally ahead of his time. He knows his son wants things that most eighteen year olds do not think about.
“She gave me that line about wanting to be young and have fun.”
“What’s wrong with that?” asked Mom.
“I’m ready to be married and I want to start a family.”
“Dear, you’re only eighteen.” said Whitney “You have plenty of time for that.”
“Mom, I could get killed in the next ten seconds. I’m all about living in the now, taking life as it comes at me.”
“Then why do you want to join the air force son?” asked Joe
“Because I don’t want to be a thirty year old lush, living off social security, sitting on my ass, watching day-time T.V. for the rest of my life. With the air force, I could get money for college and eventually have a great career.”
“You sound like the T.V. commercial Frankie.”
“Ouch! Good one Dad.” Said Katie sarcastically.
“Very funny you guys. I’m trying to be serious here.”
“Ok stop messing with him you two,” said Whitney. “I’m alright with your decision dear, but what about your modeling job?”
“It was fun while it lasted but I quit that job last month.” Responded Frank.
“How come?” asked Katie.
“Most of my associates are always strung out on something and I don’t want any part of it.”
Joe was proud to know his son was so mature for his age. He also knew that Frank would not have any problem with the move. To get his wife to consider things, he needed to ask only one question.
“So Katie, How do you feel about this neighborhood?” Asked Joe
Whitney looks at her husband with a puzzled expression on her face.
“It kinda sucks.” Responds Katie
“Why do you say that dear?” asked Joe as he leers out the corner of his eye to see his wife staring right back at him.
“All the girls at school hate me because I’m prettier then they are, and the boys think I’m stuck up.”
“Gee, I can’t imagine why they’d think that.” Said Frank sarcastically.
“Hey Bro, don’t hate me cuzz I’m beautiful.”
The children continued with their playful argument, while Whitney looked into her husband’s eyes knowing that there was something on his mind. She knew that the concerned look on his face meant that whatever he was thinking, could lead to an argument that would not be so playful.
“What’s on your mind honey?” asked Whitney
Joe knew not to beat around the bush. He knew it would be like pouring gasoline on fire.
“Do you remember my mentor, Pastor Louis Arlester?”
“He worked with my mother, what about him?”
“He came by today and asked me about possibly moving to Cherry Hills.”
“What’s in Cherry Hills?”
The children became quiet; knowing the vibes between their parents may lead to a fight. They looked on intensely.
“A new house with a two car garage, maybe even a second job.”
Whitney sat back in her chair with her arms folded.
“And what does he want you to do for this house with the two car garage dear?” said his wife in a menacing voice.
“Well sweetie, he’s retiring and he wants me to take over his church as Pastor.”
His wife sat there quietly with a look in her eyes that would turn most men to stone. Joe’s eyes were wide with anticipation, not realizing he was about to get the surprise of a lifetime.
“Now why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” said Whitney as she formed a huge smile. “You know how much I hate this place. I can’t find good work here, there’s a drug on every corner, not to mention, all the damn roaches. Oh honey this is going to be great! Kids, get packed, we are getting out of this dump!”
“Oh yeah baby yeah,” said Frank doing his impression of Austin Powers.
“We’re leaving Kremlin City? This is sooo cool,” Said Katie with a wide smile on her face
Joe watched his kids give each other a high-five, then scamper up the stairs. His wife hugged him with enough force to make his ribs crack.
“Well,” grunted Joe as his wife squeezed harder. “I guess everyone’s ok with this.”




Chapter 3

Second Job

U-haul trucks must have been made by people who hate to drive, because unless someone was desperate enough to move from one location to another, no one would try to operate these malfunctioning hunks of metallic mayhem. The cab of this vehicle smells of cat urine and gasoline. A draft coming from the passenger door, which will not stay closed without the assistance of a deformed cloth hanger, does help deal with the smell. Opera can be loudly heard from a radio that cannot be turned off, because it has no buttons or dials. The brakes work so well, that once applied, the truck stops along with the engine. Ignition is not a problem as long as there is a flat-head screwdriver close by. The part of the truck that holds personal items is called the box. Inside this box are two large couches, three love seats, a wide screen television set, a dining table with four chairs, a series of boxes and a very large hornet’s nest. The driver wipes sweat from his forehead and wishes he could travel in the air-conditioned vehicle occupied by his family trailing close behind. His eyes become as wide as an owl the moment his destination is in view.

May 20th 5:00 PM
Joe received a welcome wave from his tall lanky neighbor as he stepped out of the truck. Whitney pulled the 1996 Mazda Protégé into the garage along with her children. Joe Conrad stood in the front yard admiring the new home. He peered slowly around at the fine green lawn, the white picket fence, and the garden with many different flowers. The soft pink color of the house was not to his liking, but in his mind, that was not a big deal. The children jump out of the vehicle and run to their father.
“Hey Dad. It’s pink. How cool is that?”
“That’s because you’re a girl.” Said Frank
“C’mon bro, at least it’s not hot pink.”
“Relax kids.” Said Whitney walking toward them. “We’ll all sit down later and come up with a color that everybody likes.”
“But I like pink.” Said Katie
“You’re mother’s right.” Said Joe. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“What’s to talk about? I like pink.”
“Can we just unload the truck now please?” Said a frustrated Frank.



May 20th 5:45 PM
Unloading the truck was near completion. Nothing was left except four boxes, three labeled, one not.
“Hey Dad”, Said Frank. “This box doesn’t have a label.”
“Oh, don’t bother with it,” Responded Joe “It came with the truck.”
Curiosity got the better of young Frank and he chose to inspect the contents of the box. Meanwhile, Joe headed toward the house carrying lawn chairs. As Joe paced toward the house, he glanced around at the large fifty foot high walls, surrounding the entire town. He noticed the walls earlier, while passing through the huge doors at the town’s only entrance, but did not realize the scope of this massive construction, until now.
“This small town isn’t so small.” Thought Joe as he glanced around the neighborhood.
The thought of contractors being big Jurassic Park fans, gave him a slight chuckle. Joe’s silent moment was interrupted by piercing shrills of agony.
“Ahhhhh!” “Ohhh God!” “Ahhhhh!”
Joe dropped the chairs and ran to the back of the truck. Katie heard the chaos and alerted her mother. Joe’s eyes broadened with utter terror when he saw his son covered with hornets. He jumped inside and pulled his son out of the vehicle. Once out, Joe began helping his son swat away the insects.
“Get back Joe,” Demanded Whitney. “Get out of the way!”
Joe stepped back when he saw the fire extinguisher held by his wife. She covered her son with the frosty liquid spewed from the device.
“C’mon!” Demanded Whitney “Let’s get him away from the truck.”
“We have to get him to a doctor!” Said Joe hysterically.
“Don’t worry, I had Katie call for an ambulance, Help’s on the way.”

May 20th 6:30 PM
“I’m going to take those assholes to court.” Said Joe. “A box with a hornet’s nest? They could have at least warned us.”
“You’re right honey, but now is not the time to worry about that.” said Whitney. “One of us has to take Katie home.”
Katie sat on a bench outside by the hospital’s entrance, sobbing intensely. She could not bring herself to enter the building, feeling guilty and fearing blame.
“I’ll stay, you go on.” Said Joe “I know how much you hate hospitals.”
“Ok, call me if you think you’ll be late.”
The two embrace for a moment, then part ways. More time passed after his wife’s departure. Joe waited impatiently for the doctor to come out and bring him either good or bad news about his son. Not knowing the severity of the bee stings his son sustained, made the past thirty minutes seem like an eternity. Joe looked at the bandages on his right arm, and wondered how he managed to only be stung twice. It seemed unfair to the point where Joe was ready to start blaming himself, when suddenly, the doctor appeared. Joe sprung to his feet.
“Is my son alright?”
“Sir, you might want to sit down for this.”
“No!” said Joe frantically. “Just talk to me, please!”
“I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Said the doctor “Your son suffered an allergic reaction from the bee stings which cover about sixty percent of his body.”
Joe’s eyes filled with tears and his hands began to shake. His body became frozen in fear while he anticipated the worst.
“He slipped into a coma. We have him stabilized. He receives adrenaline shots to help deal with his condition, but that’s all we can do for him, at least for now. I’m sorry sir.”
Joe’s body went limp and collapsed into a chair.
“Are you alright sir?” asked the doctor. “Are you going to need a medical attention?”
“No,” Said Joe as he hugged his body and rocked back and forth. “I need to see my son.”
“Of course sir,” responded the doctor. “Right this way.”
The doctor lead Joe to the room where his son was located. Once there, they were both greeted by a nurse on her way out. Joe did not notice that she was displaying a bashful smile as she walked pass him and the doctor. Frank laid still in his hospital bed as his father peered down at him. Joe’s eyes remained filled with tears as he looked at the bumps on his son’s face. Joe was about to reach out and touch Frank’s face, when he is suddenly startled by the doctor’s voice.
“Sir, please don’t touch him. He may get an infection.”
Joe turned toward the doctor but did not look him in the eye.
“Call if there is any change in his condition.” said Joe in a mono-toned voice. “I’ve got to get home to my wife and daughter.”
Joe walked out of the room and proceeded to the receptionist’s desk. When she looked up at him, he made a gesture to her that he wanted to use the phone. She politely pointed toward a phone on the wall near the exit. He did not want to call his wife because it seemed pointless to have her come all the way back to the hospital with Katie. He called a taxi instead.
July 7th 9:00 AM
Luxury cars come in many forms. The one cruising down Pearl Street is a rarity. It is a brand new, 2005, convertible, metallic green PT Cruiser. Its custom made engine was originally designed to make this vehicle an extremely fast street-racing car, but after being confiscated by the current owner, no race ever took place. Every square inch of this car is covered with many different shades of green, which is how the vehicle got its nickname. Driving this car is an off duty sheriff, on his way to visit his father. He views his father’s home in the distance and was surprised to see his brother. He slowly pulls into the driveway.
“Hey Patrick, what are you doing here?” said Sean after shutting of the ignition and he steping out of his car. “Where’s Dad?”
“He went to visit that guy Joe.” responded Patrick. “Dad asked me to housesit for him until he got back.”
“Did his son come out of a coma yet?” asked Sean.
“Not even close.” Said Patrick “I was assigned to him yesterday, and so far, he hasn’t moved.”
Sean with his constant frown looked at his brother, wondering why he decided to leave college early, especially during this time of year. In his mind, Patrick did not have the stomach for the upcoming event.
“Hey, you know what Sean?” says Patrick. “That guy Joe does some great preaching down at the church. You should come by sometime.”
“No time.” responded Sean. “I’ve been setting up security for the Carnival. It’ll be in town soon.”
“You should still drop by bro.”
“Yeah, whatever, I gotta go, tell Dad I stopped by.” Said Sean as he started to get back into his vehicle.
“Hey Sean, are you ok?”
Sean again looked at his brother, this time feeling nothing but contempt. He did not want Patrick in Cherry Hills.
“Why did you leave college early Patrick?” asked Sean “Why did you come back here?”
Patrick scratched his forehead.
“You know why...”
“You can’t handle this Patrick, you never could...”
The brothers stared at each other and had a brief moment of silence.
“This is important Patrick”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t get it.” Said Sean, slightly raising his voice. “The “Gift” must be handled with care.”
“I know.” Said Patrick.
“This event must happen within the first two weeks of August!” Said Sean in a loud voice. “If it doesn’t happen on schedule, we won’t have another event for twenty years!”
“I know, I get it, now quit fucking yelling at me!”
Sean’s face turned red as he formed an angry frown, while Patrick turned his back and closed his eyes.
“Don’t fuck this up bro,” Said Sean in a deep voice. “You know the consequences if you do.”
Patrick turned back around toward his brother and let out a sigh of frustration.
“Sean, could you just get in your Shrek mobile and get out of here please?”

July 7th 9:00 AM
“Is any among you afflicted? Let him pray. Is any merry? Let him sing psalms. Is any sick among you? Let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord: And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him. “James 13-15”
“Amen”
Joe weeped after Arlester recited scriptures from the bible. The two prayed together every week hoping Frank would eventually come out of his coma. Whitney, who usually hated hospitals, never left her son’s side. Katie became withdrawn and was unable to visit her brother.
“My family’s falling apart sir,” Said Joe. “I should never have brought them here.”
“Don’t think like that Joe Jr.” responded Louis. “It’s you that’s falling apart and if that happens, your family will suffer.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Said Joe.
“The negative energy coming out of you will affect everyone around you, including your son.” stated Arlester. “You have to keep your head up and remain hopeful.”
“Katie hasn’t come out of her room for, I don’t know how long, and when she does, she never says a word.” Said Joe
“She’s suffering.”
“Like I don’t know that.” Said Joe harshly.
“You’re all suffering, but what you do not understand, is that Katie is suffering alone.”
Joe sits quietly and folds his arms.
“I guess I haven’t been a very good father lately.”
“You’re a wonderful father, and you know it, you’ve just slipped a little.” Said Louis. “Look Joe Jr.....”
Joe tightened his lips and let out a loud breath. His eyes became narrow as he peered angrily at his mentor.
“Could you please stop calling me Joe jr., I’m sick of that shit!”
Arlester leaned forward in his seat, folded his hands, lowered his head, and became silent. Joe had always wanted to tell his mentor that he hated being called Joe Jr., Now, after he realized that he had hurt his mentor’s feelings, he closed his eyes and placed his face into the palms of his hands.
“I see you still have a problem with cussing.” Said Louis
“Sir, I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve that.” Said Joe as he dropped his hands.
“It’s ok.” Responded Louis. “I can handle a little outburst, I’m just glad you didn’t hit me.”
There was a moment of silence between them, and then the two share a brief chuckle.
“Look Joe, if you have to suffer, do it together with your family, don’t do it alone.”
“Yes sir, your right.”
“Start with Katie, let some of your strength rub off on her.”
“Ok sir.”
“Just remember, have faith that the doctors are doing everything they can, have faith that your son will get better, and most importantly, have faith.”
“Alright sir.”
Arlester’s words of wisdom helped Joe to realize that he was not giving himself enough credit for being a good father.
“Well, I better take off.” Said Arlester as he lifted himself up from the couch. “Patrick is house-sitting for me, and he said he would have breakfast ready when I got back.”
“Patrick’s in town?” asked Joe.
“Oh yeah, just got back into town a couple of days ago.”
“Why’d he leave school so early?”
Arlester’s eyes broadened with fear as he stood up.
“I don’t know,” Said Arlester with a shaky voice. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”
Joe kept a puzzled look on his face as he walked with his mentor toward the front door.
“Did I say something wrong sir?” Asked Joe
“No, nothing, I’m just anxious to get home. Oh, by the way, when you’re ready, give this guy a call.”
Arlester reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card, then hands it to Joe.
“You want me to call a plumber?” asked Joe.
“No you weirdo, look on the back.”
Joe peered at the phone number and address of a man named Elwood Peterson.
“Who’s this?” asked Joe
“He’s a P.E. coach down at the school,” Responded Arlester “He’s planning on moving to Florida with his family. I told him about you and we agree that you would make a good replacement. He says he wants to meet with you.”
Joe reluctantly began handing the card back to his mentor.
“I don’t think the timing is good, sir” Said Joe
“The timing couldn’t be better.” Said Louis. “Look, you need something to help keep your head on straight; otherwise, you’re going to drive yourself insane. Just give it some thought.”
Joe withdrew the card from his mentor and put it into his pocket.
“Ok sir, I’ll think about it.”
“Good, talk to you later.” Said Louis
“Yes sir.”

July 7th 10:00 AM
The Power Rangers was a kid show that most parents deemed too violent for their children. When the show went off the air, parents were relieved. Finding merchandise based on that show may be difficult for some, but to the individual cocooning behind a pink bedroom door, it was no problem at all. Covering this door, are pictures of all the Power Rangers. The pink ranger poses with a martial arts type stance, ready for action. The green and red rangers take on a large number of costumed villains. The white ranger rides on top of a huge metallic dinosaur. Outside of this decorative door, is a man trying to get the attention of the person on the other side.
“Katie...” called her father. “C’mon Katie, open the door.”
Joe stood at Katie’s bedroom door and hoped that she would answer. He knew what to say to his daughter, especially after his talk with Pastor Arlester. The question, was will she give him the chance?
“Alright sweetie, I’ll leave you alone.” Said Joe in frustration “It’s just that I was getting kinda lonely out here.”
(No response)
“I hate crying by myself. It just makes me feel worse.”
(Still no response)
“I’ve been thinking about your brother,” stated Joe. “I feel like this is my fault. It would be nice if I had someone to talk to.”
(Silence)
“Ok, I’ll leave you alone.”
Joe turned and began to walk away, when the door suddenly swung open.
“It’s not your fault Dad, it’s mine.”
Katie stood at the entrance of her bedroom, sobbing hysterically.
“No sweetie, it’s not your fault.” Said Joe in a compassionate voice. “Why would you think that?”
“Those last boxes were mine,” sobbed Katie. “I should have been the one to get them out, not him!”
Katie dropped to her knees as does her father.
“Listen to me Katie,” Said Joe compassionately as he cradled his daughter’s face with his hands. “If you had gotten into that truck, it would be you in the hospital. It could have happened to any of us. There is no one to blame here, ok?”
Katie nodded her head, and then Joe gently wiped her tears away with his thumbs.
“We all need to keep our heads up and be strong for Frankie, right?” weeped Joe.
She nodded again, then the two embrace, crying together. After a few minutes the pair wipe their faces and get to their feet.
“Now what do you say we join your mother at the hospital.”
“Yes sir.
July 8th 11:30 AM
RING - RING - RING - RING
“Hello.”
“Hi, may I speak to Mr. Elwood Peterson please?”
“Speaking.”
“My name is Joe Conrad, and ahh...”
“Oh, Mr. Conrad, I’ve been looking forward to hearing from you, when do you think we can get together?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Great, how about today, at my office around 3, o’clock. Summer classes will be over then.”
“I’ll see you at 3:00.”


July 8th 3:10 P.M.
Cherry Hills High is one of the most celebrated schools in all of Wyoming. People like Ricky Cole and Parks McBride, became superstars in the NFL, after graduating from this school. Baseball players Tommy Savit and Doug (beanbag) Wilson went undefeated, when they led the Cherry Hills Volcanics to greatness. Stacy Rose went on to become one of the best lady boxers in the world, next to Ali’s daughter. All of these individuals would give some credit to their old P.E. coach for sculpting them into the athletes they are today. The man standing outside of this teacher’s office feels inadequate, because the only qualification stated on his résumé, is coaching his son’s little-league baseball team.
“Mr. Peterson?”
“Yes, you must be Joe.” Said Peterson. “Please come in, take a seat.”
Joe extended his hand as he sat down in front of Elwood’s desk.
“My mentor told me a lot about you Mr. Peterson.” Said Joe as he withdrew from the handshake. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to fill your shoes.”
“Ha.” chuckled the coach. “You’re quite humble Mr. Conrad. Weren’t you a Pastor in Kremlin City?”
“Yes but......”
“To be a coach, all you need do is be a good guide to young folks. Now you’ve been a Pastor for how long?”
“Well, I did three years at Woody/Arlester Bible College, and then I became a Pastor about nine years ago, but......”
“Then you know how to lead people in the right direction? In life, you know?
“Yeah, I guess, but....”
“Well Joe, that’s all the qualifications you need for a job like this. What do ya say? Wanna give it a shot?”
Joe leaned back, slightly annoyed with this jumpy man’s constant interruptions. With his dirty blonde hair and huge teeth, Peterson began to remind Joe of actor Gary Busey, whom he hated. Not wanting to engage in conversation with this man any longer, Joe gave him an answer.
“Ok.”
“Wonderful!” Said Elwood excitedly. “Come back tomorrow, same time, and I’ll give you the grand tour!”
“Oh Shit.” Thought Joe.







Chapter 4

Mysterious Actions

July 9th 3:30 PM
“No, I won’t do it!”
“Look little lady,” Says Peterson. “I don’t have time to get into this right now. I’m expecting somebody and he’s already half an hour late.”
“Whatever, I can’t do this!”
Elwood grabs the arm of the nameless young student and pulls her close.
“Now listen....”
“Let go!”
“Shut up!” snaps Peterson in a menacing voice. “Now you listen and you listen good.” “It’s your job to make sure the “Gift” is where it’s supposed to be on the night of the event.” “If you don’t do your job.....well, you know what’ll happen, don’t you?”
The young girl’s eyes fill with water as Peterson becomes distracted by a figure in the doorway.
“Well Hey!” says Elwood as he releases the girl. “You’re late!”
Joe stood silently for a moment then offers the girl a handkerchief from his pocket. The young lady looks searchingly into Joe’s eyes trying to see what is behind them. She tries to see if she can come up with a good reason to bring turmoil into this man’s life. Not one thought comes to mind.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”
The sobbing young student ran out the office covering her face with her hands.
“Ha, I guess she didn’t wanna get boogers on her face from that rag of yours.”
Joe puts the handkerchief back into his pocket and gives Peterson a look letting him know that the joke was not funny.
“Hey ahh, looks like I won’t be giving you that tour after all,” Says Peterson. “I got some errands to run.” Don’t worry; my secretary will bring you up to speed. She’s right across the hall there. Yo Brenda!” yells Peterson. “Get your butt over here!”
“Ya don’t have to yell boss,” says Brenda as she walks toward the two men. “I’m not that far away.”
“Yeah, whatever, listen, this is Mr. Conrad, Get him started will ya? I gotta run, see ya later.”
A sense of relief comes over Joe as Elwood walks away. Brenda, a short portly female, walks up to Joe, undressing him with her eyes.
“Hello Mr. Conrad.”
“Hi,” says Joe. “You know, that guy is kind of an asshole.”
“Not “kind of”, “Is” says Brenda. “I’ve thought that about him ever since we got married.”
“He’s your husband? Oh wow, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, like I said, he’s an asshole.”
The secretary spoke with a low southern accent, which Joe compared to actor Kathy Bates like in the film “Fried Green Tomatoes.”
“I don’t know why Elwood was yakking about a tour.” states Brenda. “All ya need to know is where the gymnasium and cafeteria are located. You won’t have to know where the students are, they’ll come to you. We’re gonna have to go over some paperwork though. Shall we get started?”
Joe nods as he follows Brenda into her office.


July 10th 9:00 AM
Physical fitness is a way of life for most of the students attending Cherry Hills High, especially for the twelve students sitting on the gymnasium floor. Each of them can bench press at least three hundred pounds. They sit with their well defined legs crossed and beefy looking arms folded, with blank expressions on their faces. The shorts, tee-shirts, headbands, socks, and sneakers they wear, are all white. The Cherry Hills logo on the front of their shirts, which is fruit erupting from a volcano, stands out from the sea of white. The man standing in front of these silent youths makes his introduction.
“Hello guys, my name’s Joe Conrad, I’m your new P.E. Coach.”
“No shit.” mumbles one of the boys.
“Who said that?” asked Joe as he glares around at the students.
The young boys sit quietly, staring into space.
“Ok, I’ll let that one slide,” Says Joe “Look, my guess is you’re not too happy with having a new coach. I’m not sure how I feel about being here myself.”
The youngsters uncrossed their legs and straightened them out at the same time.
“Whoa, do you guys practice that?”
Joe receives no reaction from his students.
“Can someone tell me where to find the sports equipment?”
Joe begins to pace back and forth, wondering why these kids will not communicate with him. He decides to try a different approach.
“Alright listen, since there are twelve of you, what do you say we find a basketball and get a game going.” says Joe. “Ok, I’ll need two team leaders to choose players, any volunteers?”
The boys stand up and begin scampering in all directions. One of them heads toward a door with a small glass window. He opens it and quickly retrieves several basketballs, chucking them to the other boys. Then the youngsters begin shooting free throws and playing games like horse and around the world. Joe feels very confused and frustrated because of the display of behavior he has witnessed since he first entered this school, starting with the girl in Peterson’s office. Joe rubs his forehead.
“Oh, the hell with this.” says Joe “Maybe I’ll have better luck in the cafeteria.”
Joe walks off toward the lunch area, not realizing that someone was watching him from a safe distance. She crouches down behind the bleachers watching Joe walk away, then she turns her attention to the boys. When the young men notice that their new coach is gone, they stop playing and look directly at the bleachers.
“You can come out now...” says one of the boys. “He’s gone.”
The mysterious girl slowly steps out and the boys approach her with a military style walk. The leader of this pact is a five foot nine, two hundred pound, mountain of muscle. He has black hair and a goatee.
“What’s this bullshit about you not wanting to deliver the “Gift?” he says harshly “Are you trying to ruin the event? Are you aware of what can happen if you don’t stop fucking around?”
“Why does it have to be me?” asks the girl “Why can’t you do it?”
“Tina, don’t be stupid!” he says getting angrier “Your name was drawn and you have to do your duty! If it was my calling, I would do it, but it’s against the rules and you know it!”
“I can’t do this Tony,” She yells “I won’t do th....”
One thrust of his fist drops Tina to her knees, holding her stomach. The others look on quietly, showing no emotion. Tony squats in front of Tina and grabs the hair on the back of her head. She yelps in pain with tears running down her cheeks.
“Now pay attention girly,” says Tony in a low menacing voice, “You’ll do what is demanded of you or I’ll make you suffer.” He continues with a tense glare in his eyes “Oh don’t worry, you won’t suffer nearly as bad as your mother, I promise.”
Tina’s eyes broaden with fear.
“Do you understand?”
Not answering right away angers him further. Tony grabs both her arms, forcing her to stand up.
“I said do you understand?” growled Tony as he shakes her vigorously.
“Yes, I understand,” says Tina sobbing, “Please let go, you’re hurting me!”
“You’re pathetic Tina, you know that?”
Tony suddenly draws back his head and smashes it forward into Tina’s face, causing her to fall back onto the floor. She curls up in a fetal position and tries to stop the blood from gushing out of her nose. Tony takes off his shirt and throws it at the weeping young girl.
“Clean yourself up before coach cocksucker comes back and sees you!”

July 10th 9:15 AM
“Well hello handsome,” Says Brenda as she watches Joe enter the cafeteria “Want to join me for breakfast?”
“Yeah, I guess...”
“What’s wrong sugar,” she asks “Ya don’t look too happy.”
Joe sits down at a table across from Brenda, keeping as much distance as possible. He knows that Brenda is very flirtatious, which makes him very uncomfortable.
“Why ya so far away sugar, I won’t bite, unless ya want me to.” Says Brenda as she slowly runs her eyes up and down Joe’s chest area.
“You work out huh...”
“Brenda please...,” says Joe feeling reserved.
“Don’t be so shy,” says Brenda “It doesn’t suit you at all.”
“I’m not shy, I just don’t like flirting.” Responds Joe “To me, flirting is childish.”
Brenda peers at Joe with a look of pity.
“Sugar, I gotta tell ya, I don’t think you’ve had sex in a long time.”
Joe rolls his eyes, turning his head toward the exit. He considered leaving, but Brenda suddenly changes the tone of the conversation.
“Boys giving ya trouble?”
He turns his attention back to her.
“As a matter of fact.....”
Before Joe can complete his statement, he is distracted by two of his students walking into the cafeteria. As they walk up to a vending machine, they make eye contact with Joe. The boys look at each other and form sheepish grins on their faces, mumbling incoherently.
“Does that answer your question Brenda?”


July 13th 8:40 AM
Superstition was never a part Joe’s character, until today. Many thoughts go through his mind while driving to work on this Friday morning. The students still refuse to communicate, and that is fine with him. In Joe’s way of thinking, the boys are only making his job easier. As long as he shows up everyday for work on time, he will continue receiving his earnings. It was not the small amount of money he gets that makes this new job bearable. Having something to do everyday does keep Joe from dwelling on his son’s condition. Pastor Arlester was right. Joe would have certainly gone insane if not for the new occupation. As he pulls slowly into his predecessor’s parking space, he notices the boys crowding each other at the back entrance, which is just outside of the gymnasium. Joe steps out of his car, wondering what his students are up to. Walking toward them, he could hear panic in their voices. Treading closer, he could see the boys making hand gestures as if they were trying to calm someone down.
“What’s going on here?” asked Joe
The students look at Joe, then get shoved aside by the only boy with facial hair. Tony storms toward Joe and puts an index finger into his chest.
“I suggest you walk away coach cocksucker!” growled Tony “This doesn’t concern you!”
“Take your finger off of me right now and get out of the way before.....”
Tony’s knee comes up quickly and connects with Joe’s crotch. Joe drops to his knees, gripping his groin, gasping for air.
“Before what dick weed?”
Joe raises his head just in time to see a fist hurling toward him. After taking a shot to his forehead, Joe falls onto his side, grunting in pain.
“Before what!?” yells Tony.
Tony and the other boys jolt after hearing a loud gunshot.
“Get away from him!” screams a feminine voice.
Joe slowly sits up, still holding his groin, and sees the mysterious girl with a bandage on her face, gripping a 9mm automatic handgun. She frantically waves the gun side to side, forcing all of the students to back up. Joe slowly manages to get to his feet, but stands hunched over.
“Tina, please don’t do this...” pleaded Tony.
Tina looks at Joe with sympathetic eyes, crying hysterically.
“Mr. Conrad,” sobs Tina. “You have to get out of this town before.....”
Tony lunged toward her with lighting speed.
“No!” “Shut up!” “Don’t.....”
Tony is unable speak any longer because of the bullet Tina fired into his throat. He drops to the ground clutching his neck. He gargles in his own blood for a few seconds then leaves this world. Tina’s face became blank as she watches her former boyfriend die before her eyes. Joe becomes frozen with fear, while the other students show no emotion. Joe began to go into a trance, but snapped out of it the moment he heard Tina’s voice.
“I’m sorry Mr. Conrad,” Said Tina in a low voice. “But I can’t help you any other way now.”
Before Joe could react, Tina fires another bullet into her mouth. She was dead before her body hit the ground. The other students turn and walk away, showing no interest in what just happened. Joe collapses onto his hindquarter, lowers his head and tries to understand what he has just seen.

July 13th 9:24 AM
It is not uncommon for large families to have large vehicles. The one speeding down Hoover street is a good example. The driver of this 2004 Nissan Quest, was happy to finally have a second vehicle. She hated having to squeeze her husband and children into a small 1996 Mazda Protégé. Normally, she would not be speeding, but after getting a frightening phone call from the town sheriff, an exception was made. The passenger sits quietly, gripping her seat, sharing the same fear as her mother. They both begin removing their seatbelts while pulling into the parking lot of the Cherry Hills Police Department. After the van comes to a halt, they get out and can see Sheriff Arlester standing at the buildings entrance.
“Where’s my husband?” asked Whitney in a panicky voice.
“Calm down Mrs. Conrad.” says Sean as he steps out of the way. “He’s sitting on the bench inside.”
Whitney and Katie dash inside, and see Joe sitting silently, hugging himself, and quivering. The sheriff paces slowly inside and watch as Joe receive a warm embrace from his family.
“What happened honey?” asked Whitney, “You’re bleeding!”
“It’s not all my blood.”
“What?” Asked Katie
“A kid was murdered at school today,” Says Joe “His blood got on me when he was shot.”
“Oh my God!” says Whitney as she runs her fingers through her husband’s hair.
Sean walks up to them with a confused look on his face.
“Excuse me sir, did I hear you correctly?” asks the sheriff. “You said ‘all’ the blood is not yours?”
“Yeah sheriff, the guy put a beating on my before he was shot.”
“Why would he do that?” asked Sean.
“I’m not sure.” Responds Joe.
Sean stares at Joe, with an intense frown on his face.
“Look sheriff, you’re going to need me to make a statement, right?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Says Sean. “I have statements from the other students, I got everything I need.”
“Don’t you want my side of the story?” asks Joe.
“That won’t be necessary Mr. Conrad.”
“But sir....”
“Hey!” snaps the sheriff. “Do yourself a favor, go home, get cleaned up, and get some rest. I have everything I need here, so please, just go.”
Joe stands up feeling perplexed.
“Let’s go honey.” says Whitney.
Joe with his family, walk out of the police station and head toward their vehicle. As they continue on, Joe looks back and sees the sheriff staring at him intensely, then he turns and renters the police station. Once the vehicle is reached, they all get inside and put on their seatbelts.
“Are you ok Dad?” asked Katie.
“Yeah, I’m ok; I just want to go home.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” worried Whitney. “We were going to head there anyway to see Franklin, but then the sheriff called......”
“No dear... please, I just want to go home.”
“You go on and see Frankie Mom, I’ll stay home with Dad.” says Katie. “I’ll take care of him.”
“No sweetie, you go with your mother, ok?”
“So you can suffer alone?” responds Katie “I don’t think so.”
Joe manages to form a smirk when hearing his daughter make such an adorable comment.
“You’re right sweetie, let’s go.”


July 20th 3:18 PM
One of the most engaging sights in the history of mankind is a woman named Neve Campbell. Every hair style she wears suits her perfectly. Whether she has short blonde hair, like in the film “Wild Things”, or long and black, “Party of Five” style, elegance omits from her every time. Her big brown eyes, so bright and full of life, are sometimes hidden behind long, luscious eyelashes. Her nose seems to be the only part of her face that has freckles, making her all the more enchanting. The marvelous structures of her heavenly cheekbones are truly amazing. When she smiles, sunlight illuminates off of her beautiful white teeth. Her lips, so perky and full, so voluptuous and inviting, could make any man crack under pressure if the opportunity for a kiss was there. All of these details come together and create her most exotic feature, her face. She has the look of good and evil at the same time. Her face is brightened by the sweet, shy, and innocence of the typical girl next door. On opposite ends, her face darkens with the look of wickedness and deceit. Her flawlessness can bring any man to tears and in some cases ... out of a coma.
“Mom!” “Dad!” “Look!” “Look!” screamed Katie.
Whitney and Joe jump out of their seats and are shocked to see what is happening.
“Hi.” whispered Frank.
“Hey son, you’re back with us.” says Joe with a tearful smile.
Franklin Conrad lies in his hospital bed, receiving a delightful embrace from his family. Waterfalls of emotion stream out of all their faces. This is a moment frozen in time for the Conrad family. A moment that was unfortunately, interrupted; when a nurse enters the room to check Frank’s blood pressure.
“Hi, Umm, I’m sorry to bother you folks, but I have to check his vitals and make a report for the doctor.”
The edgy young girl took a step back with her hands raised up, parallel with her shoulders. Her eyes widened with nervousness, feeling guilty for spoiling their joyful moment.
“I can wait.” said the nurse in a whiney voice.
“No, its ok, come on in.” says Joe with tears still in his eyes.
As the nurse begins to check Frank’s blood pressure, she hesitates, realizing that a larger cuff is needed. She turns to retrieve another and is startled by a voice.
“Nurse?” says Frank speaking softly. “You look like the woman in my dreams.”
“Really?” responds the nurse with a bashful smile. “That’s sweet.”
“What’s your name,” Asked Frank.
“Francis”
“Oh, cool, Last Call.”
“Excuse me?”
“The woman in my dreams,” continues Frank “She was in the movie “Last Call.” “Her name was Francis.”
The nurse and Frank peer into each others eyes and intimately make a bond. She finishes taking Frank’s vitals then prepares to draw blood. Francis quickly fills two vials with blood and put them into a small container. The two exchange a look again as she leaves the room.
“Damn son.” says Joe. “You haven’t been out of a coma ten minutes and you’re already charming the ladies.”
“Hey, I got it like that pop.”
The Conrad family laughs in collaboration.











Chapter 5


Tragedy

July 30th 12:00 PM
The Cherry Hills Diner was founded by an old railroad worker named Dennis Creed. The caboose shaped eating establishment was based on his designs and was constructed back in 1809. Nowadays, many of the customers listen to the cook tell folk tales about his great grandfather, sometimes pointing out antique memorabilia located all throughout the diner. Chef Creed draws a large crowd during every lunch rush by people who love hearing his stories. One couple however, did not show up for the food or the entertainment. The woman just got off of work and is still in uniform. The young man she pushes in a wheelchair is her companion. Their interest lies only with each other.
“So, how long have you lived in Cherry Hills?” asked Frank.
“About a year.” responds Francis.
“How do you like living here?”
Francis’s face turns a light shade of pink as she lowers her eyes to the table in front of her.
“What’s wrong?” asked Frank with a look of concern on his face.
“Frank, I brought you here because I wanted to tell you something.”
“I’m all ears.” says Frank. “You can tell me anything you want.”
The young nurse closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, then lets it out slow.
“I knew way back in May, that there was a new family moving here.” Says Francis “I just....I mean we all knew....”
Francis hesitates to finish speaking. She fears for Frank and his family. She has a hard time finding the words; the plea’s ... the warnings.
“Hey now,” says Frank in a soft voice. “We’ve been getting pretty close these past ten days.” There’s no reason why we.....”
“I know Frank,” interrupts Francis. “That’s the problem.”
“What problem?”
“I’m breaking the rules.” says Francis in a shaky voice. “I wasn’t supposed to have feelings for any of you.”
“Ok, now you’re really confusing me.” says Frank with a bewildered expression on his face. “What are you talking about?”
“Your family has been chosen.” Says Francis as she begins to weep. “You have to get your family out of Cherry Hills before August 8th, the day of the event.”
“What event?” says Frank in disarray “What are you talking about?”
Francis begins to cry, shaking her head left to right.
“Please, I’ve already said too much.” Sobs Francis. “Just take your family and leave, before it’s too late. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Frank sits quietly, dumbfounded because of what he just heard. He still does not understand what Francis is talking about. Being chosen, the event, he wonders what she means. Frank is, however; smart enough to know a warning when he hears one. He considers alerting the police. Frank becomes lost in thought for a moment, knowing that he needs to get to his family as soon as possible.
“Francis, I need to go home now.”
Francis’s breath makes a shuddering sound as she stands up. She wipes away the tears from her face. Suddenly, a man with dirty blonde hair, storms into the diner. The other customers become curious about the commotion and look on silently.
“Francis, what have you done?” says the man with a raspy voice.
The stranger walks forcefully up to Francis and grabs her by the arm, and begins pulling her out of the restaurant.
“Hey, asshole, let go of her!” steamed Frank
The angry man pulls a gun and aims it at Frank’s head.
“I suggest you relax young man,” threatens the man as sunlight gleams from his large teeth. “Or I’ll put you in a trance deeper then any coma!”
Frank watches helplessly as the stranger shoves Francis out of diner and into a Cadillac Escalade. She struggles with the man violently.
“Somebody call the police!” yells Frank as he turns the wheelchair around to face the onlookers.
The customers stare at Frank with blank expressions on their faces. No one says a word. No one moves. Frank stares back at them confused and angered.
“What the hell is wrong with you people?” screamed Frank. “Why won’t you help her?”
Frank suddenly has to defend himself with his arms to prevent the shattering glass from hitting his face. The truck had exploded with enough force to knock him out of the wheelchair. Debris and glass covered the inside of the diner as well as the outside street. The smoke caused Frank to cough and gag. He realized that Francis and the mysterious man were in the destroyed vehicle. Frank looks to his left and becomes terrified to see the entire group of customers still standing in the same place, showing no emotion. They all keep their eyes fixated on him.
July 30th 12:22 PM
“Hello Frank, are you alright?”
“Yeah sheriff, I’m fine.”
Sean looks around to see if anyone is close by. After noticing that the other officers and fireman were preoccupied, he decides to climb into the back of the ambulance with Frank. Frank feels uneasy as he witnesses a silent exchange between the sheriff and the medics. The medics nod at Sean then depart from the vehicle.
“Ok Frank.” said Sean. “This is very important, so please be honest with me.”
Frank shifted in his seat for comfort, then folds his hands and begins twirling his thumbs.
“I need to know everything you and Francis talked about. What did she tell you?”
Frank’s throat became dry when he tried to swallow. He clears his throat in an attempt not to cough and swallows hard.
“She was upset sir...”
“About?” asked Sean.
“She wanted me to take my family and leave town.”
“Did she say why?”
“She said something about an event, my family being chosen…, something like that.” says Frank as he shakes his head. “I didn’t understand what she was talking about.”
“What else?”
“Well, that’s when that guy came in and.....”
“Peterson.” interrupts Sean.
“Excuse me sir?”
“His name was Elwood Peterson,” continues Sean “Your father replaced him at the school.”
“Oh, ok,” says Frank “Well, uhh, can I go home now?” asks Frank.
“Not yet, There’s just one more problem that needs to be dealt with.......Right now.” says Sean in a menacing voice.
Sean’s eyes darken, losing the whiteness and color, becoming all black and shiny. At that moment, Frank realizes that he had said too much.


July 30th 1:00 PM
Anyone who knows how to shop for groceries understands that the freshest products are always pushed to the back of the shelves. The customer shuffling through cartons of milk knows this for a fact. Looking at each container, he spots a gallon with a date that pleases him.
“August 8th, that’s a good date.” says Joe.
“Yeah, more then ya realize sugar.”
Joe turns around to see a short, portly woman with an angry look on her face.
“Mrs. Peterson,” Says Joe “You scared me.”
“Don’t call me that ya sack of shit!” snapped Brenda. “Mrs.” is a title for a married woman!”
“Whoa, what’s wrong with you?” wondered Joe. “Are you angry with me?
Joe frowned confusingly at Brenda, trying to figure out the reasoning for her sudden outburst.
“Ya know, I can understand pain and loss. I can understand sacrifice and punishment. I can even understand why your daughter was chosen for the event.”
Joe forms a blank expression on his face as his eyes intensify.
“My daughter....what.....”
“But when a woman has one daughter dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, then has another daughter blown up, along with her father, all within a span of eighteen days.....well, that just hit the limit, don’t ya think?” says Brenda as she walks toward Joe.
Brenda’s eyes become very large and threatening, as she slowly reaches her hand into her purse. Joe begins steadily pacing backward, fearing her intentions.
“This event will happen,” says Brenda with her voice becoming more menacing. “Your daughter is the gift that must be sacrificed on August 8th.”
Joe’s blank stare becomes more intense, showing utter terror.
“Sacrifice?” “What the hell are you talking about!” yells Joe.
“It’s so important don’t ya see?” says Brenda as she begins to weep.
Joe raises his hands into the air when Brenda pulls out a 38 caliber handgun and aims it in his direction.
“Your family was chosen,” yelling hysterically “Why did mine have to die?”
“Please, don’t shoot,” begs Joe as he slightly stumbles back into a shopping cart “Look, look, just wait a minute ok......”
When Brenda fires one shot, Joe cowers as an orange juice container explodes behind him.
“Fuck!” “Shit!” “Fuck!” “Brenda wait, just listen to me!” “Just wait!”
“The only pleasure I have now.....” whispers Brenda as the weapon tremors in her hand “Is knowing that your son is dead and your wife is about to die.”
Joe’s body shakes all over, as he dreads the words coming out of Brenda’s mouth. He knows his wife and daughter are home alone. He also knows his son was due to check out of the hospital today. He begins panting for air and beads of sweat forms on his forehead.
“I just wanted you to know that before you die!” growled Brenda.
As Brenda pulls back on the trigger, Joe lunges at her. He swats the gun with his left hand, causing the bullet to surpass his mid section, then counters with a right fist. One punch was all it took to render the deranged woman unconscious. Joe picks up the weapon and starts toward the exit. Before he makes it ten feet, he realizes that a crowd is forming around him. The mob of people begins pulling out knives, pipes, bats, and a few guns. Another shot rings out causing more damage to the orange juice containers behind Him. Joe darts for the back exit with the riotous crowd in pursuit. Two of the patrons manage to block Joe from his destination.
“Their eyes, what’s wrong with their eyes?”
Without hesitation, Joe fires two rounds at the human barricade. One bullet hit a woman’s knee cap, while the other makes contact with a man’s stomach. As Joe runs by, the wounded patrons claw at his feet, snarling like wild animals. He manages to kick the man in the face and jump over the woman. Joe shoves his way through a swinging doorway, only to be tackled by a butcher. He suddenly finds himself on his back with a snarling man gripping at his throat. The large heavyset man holds Joe down with one hand, while brandishing a meat cleaver in the other. Joe tries frantically to pry the man’s hand from his neck. The butcher was about to come down on Joe’s face with the meat cleaver, but did not notice the gun pointed into his stomach. The butcher yells barbarically when he fires a bullet into his belly. Joe grunts out a massive amount of air when the big man collapses on top of him. Regardless of the dead man’s weight, he is able to push him aside. Joe is able to get to his feet and make it out the back door. The angry mob soon follows, but is distracted when some of them begin stumbling over the butcher’s corpse.
“Their eyes…………….. their eyes!”
Joe runs around to the front of the store where his car is parked, hoping the crowd will be coming out the back. He thinks he can get to it, and he was right. Joe jumps into his car and screeches out of the parking lot. He can hear the crazy band of people firing their weapons into the air and shouting obscenities.
July 30th 1:07 PM
“Hello”
“Mrs. Conrad?”
“Speaking.”
“This is sheriff Arlester, may I speak with your husband?”
“He’s not in right now. What’s the problem sheriff?”
“Well ma’am, it’s your son, he was almost killed.”
“Oh my God, is he alright?”
“Yes ma’am, he’s fine. We just need someone to pick him up.”
“Ok, where is he, the hospital?”
“Yes ma’am. Hey uhh... where is your husband?”
“He just went to pick up some groceries….Look, I have to go get my son...goodbye.”


July 30th 1:10 PM

Joe pulls into his driveway, and notices a note taped to the front door of the house. He knows that Katie must have written the note because the letters are so big, that he does not need to get out of his car.
“Good girl!” He says excitedly.
The hospital is his next destination, according to the note. Joe looks into the rearview mirror as he backs out of the driveway. He stomped on the brake after a reflection appears of his neighbor along with four other men carrying AK 47 Assault Rifles. After shifting the gear into drive, the car is riddled with bullets as Joe accelerates, crashing through the garage. The large door collapses onto the hood of the vehicle, slightly caving in the lower part of the windshield.
“Did we get him?” asks the neighbor.
“I can’t tell,” responds one of the riflemen. “Wait a second, I can see him moving!”
Unable to open the car doors, Joe begins frantically kicking out the windshield. He then crawls over the broken glass and heads toward the garage entrance which leads to the inside of the house. The neighbor and his henchmen, continue spraying the car with a hailstorm of bullets. Joe takes cover, cowering through the door. As soon as he enters the house, a bullet hits the vehicle’s gas tank causing the car to explode. The shockwave from the blast slams Joe into a wall.
“Ohhh... ahhh... oh God, please help me....”
As Joe slowly manages to get to his feet, the five men scamper out of the driveway and head toward the house.
“You two, go around back...get that fucker!” says the neighbor “You guys, stay out front, incase he tries to double back!”
The tall, lanky neighbor goes into the front door after shooting the locks. He runs over to where Joe had come in and finds a trail of blood.
“I gotcha now, you son of a bitch!” says the man.
The blood trail leads to the basement door. He opens the door and cautiously takes aim with his weapon. Not seeing any movement, he steadily creeps down the stairway. When he reaches the bottom step, he peers around the area slowly, with his rifle ready.
“This basement is larger then mine.....Lucky Fuck!”
There is an illumination coming from the west end of the basement. The man paces toward the light, watching for any sign of Joe. As he gets closer, a strange scent gets his attention. He looks down to see a ketchup bottle, and realizes the blood trail he was following was not blood at all.
“That slippery motherfucker!”
The sound of doors slamming comes from the west end of the basement, which causes the light to disappear. The lanky man drops the bottle and heads to that area, only to discover another exit leading outside.
“Oh man....I’m gonna kill that faggot!”
The man heads up a set of wobbly stairs and shoves his way through the doors to the outside. The tall, lanky man is suddenly riddled with bullets, sending him backward onto the basement floor. The four other men stand around his body, mortified at what they had done.
“Fuck Me!” “It’s not him!”
“No shit Sherlock...., let gets the hell out of here!”

July 30th 1:20 PM
Joe smears ketchup stains onto the front of his shirt with his hands as he sprints down the street. He recites psalm 23 from the King’s James bible as he runs frantically toward the hospital. He knows that he could have made it to the hospital in five minutes with a vehicle. On foot was a different equation all together. His prayers become repeatedly louder as he forces himself to speed up.
“I shall fear no evil ...I ...shall....fear.....no.....EVIL!!!!!!!” screams Joe.

July 30th 1:25 PM

Whitney and Katie have been frantically roaming the halls of the hospital, searching for Frank for almost fifteen minutes. The receptionist was unable to provide details of his whereabouts. Their search comes to a halt when they reach the side exit, and see sheriff Arlester standing there.
“Where is he?” asked Whitney, “Where’s my son?
“He’s just outside here in an ambulance.” responds Sean with a passive voice. “Come on.”
Sean leads the mother and daughter outside and to the back of the vehicle. The women become horrified when the sheriff opens the back doors, revealing the beheaded body of Franklin Conrad.
“You see Mrs. Conrad,” says Sean as he holds up the decapitated head. “He’s right here.”
“Oh God!” “No!” “No!” yells Whitney.
Katie lets out an ear piercing scream as Sean chucks the head back into the ambulance. The terrified women take steps as if preparing to run, but Sean quickly grabs Katie and puts his gun to her head.
“Please don’t hurt her..” sobs Whitney
“It’s not her you should be worried about.” says Sean as his eyes darken.
Whitney shuts her eyes as Sean points the gun in her direction. Katie cries out in terror as the bullet enters her mother’s skull. Her screaming stops when the butt of Sean’s gun connects with the top of her head.




July 30th 1:30 PM

Joe, still running, can see the hospital from a distance. As he gets closer, he spots his wife’s minivan parked close-by. Joe’s run slows to a jog, when he spots the sheriff speaking to Brenda.
“She’s here already?” “Oh man...” thought Joe.
Joe pulls out the 38 caliber handgun he retrieved from the grocery store and begins to pace slowly toward them. He does not have a plan on how to engage them, and he is still not sure about the sheriff. All Joe can think about is finding his family. In Joe’s mind, Brenda being here is cause for concern. Joe hides behind a large garbage bin and watches them closely. Brenda begins flailing her arms violently and yelling at Sean. Her antics are put to an end when a bullet is fired into her stomach, dropping her to the ground. Joe jerks as Sean stands over her and fires two more rounds into her head. Afterward, the sheriff opens the back of the ambulance, and takes out a large plastic bag. Sean picks up the corpse and proceeds to stuff it into the bag. Joe turns his attention to the back of the open ambulance. He looks into the back of the vehicle and becomes enraged and saddened at what he sees. Whitney’s head dangles from the back of a stretcher, next to her decapitated son.
“Nooooooooo!” screams Joe
Joe runs toward his deceased family praying that his daughter was not there. Sean turns around, dropping the corpse and starts to reach for his gun.
“Don’t do it!” roars Joe as he aims his weapon at Sean
“What do you plan on doing with that thing Mr. Conrad?”
“Where’s my daughter?”
“Lower your weapon and I’ll tell you.”
“Tell me where my daughter is or I’ll put a bullet in your fucking head!”
“Strange threat Mr. Conrad....” says Sean as he points out Joe’s family. “Considering how your wife and son turned out, I’m surprised you haven’t shot me already.”
Joe sees nothing but red as he squeezes the trigger. The bullet enters Sean’s right eye, splattering blood and fragments of skull onto the side of the ambulance. Joe becomes hysterical, realizing that he may have killed the one person to know his daughter’s whereabouts. Joe stands there, squinting his eyes, hugging his head, pouting, and panting loudly. In his state of panic, Joe did not notice Sean steadily coming to his feet.
“Mr. Conrad,” says Sean still bleeding from his wounds.
Joe tilts his head to the right, with a surprised look on his face as he watches the blood spew from Sean’s head wound.
“Now was that really necessary?”
Stunned, Joe tries to pull the trigger again but the clicking reminds him that the gun is out of bullets. Joe watched in awe as Sean’s face begins to heal itself and become something more terrifying. The sheriff’s eyes turn black and his teeth grow into frightening fangs. Sean snarls and laughs, watching Joe tremble in fear.
“I like you Mr. Conrad.” says Sean as he sneers at Joe. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to give you a chance to save your daughter.” continues Sean with a sinister smile. “You have a twenty-four hour head start, after that you’re a hunted man.”
Joe drops the empty weapon, while doctors, nurses, and other hospital workers begin coming out of the building. They all have the same black eyeballs.
“You’ll find your daughter at the church on August 8th,” Says Sean “Your welcome to search the town if you like, but I can tell you now....you won’t find her.”
Most of the people stand around looking on quietly, waiting for Sean to give them an order to attack or abort, while others walk slowly toward Joe.
“Oh, and ahhh, don’t bother trying to leave town.” chuckled the sheriff. “The doors are shut and locked. You can’t leave unless you have a tank to break through. Then again, you’re a good daddy; you won’t try to leave without your daughter, will you?”
Joe walks backward fearfully looking at all the demonic people pacing toward him.
“Get out of here Mr. Conrad,” Growled Sean, “before I revoke your head start privileges.”
Joe’s hands tremble as he walks easily toward his wife’s minivan. He can hear the hospital workers murmuring eerily as they start to follow close behind him. When Joe tries to open the door to the minivan, it was suddenly slammed shut by one of the creepy individuals. He stood frozen and did not turn around as he felt the murmuring group of people breathing down his neck.
“Back off!” yells Sean in a loud demonic voice.
The hell spawns continue their senseless muttering as they suddenly do an about face and walk away.
“Hey Joe, You’re gonna need these.”
Sean chucks a set of keys to Joe, which he had taken from his deceased wife. Joe catches them and gets into the vehicle. He clutches the steering wheel with one hand as he starts the engine with the other. As he screeches away, Joe can hear the sinister laugh, echoing from Sean’s mouth. Joe, with dreadful images of his family roaming through his mind, reluctantly drives off, as he forms an outcry of his own.





Chapter 6

A Prayer For Sin


Under normal circumstances, a human being experiencing supernatural phenomena would probably go insane. Joe, however; is a very different kind of human being. He always knew that if something demonic ever materialized in front of him, it would only increase his faith in God. Joe is not angry with God. Instead, Joe believes that the demise of his wife and son is a price that comes along with his new purpose under God. He still weeps for them, but he understands. Joe prays to God, begging his savior to destroy all of the evil that slaughtered his family. He prays for the agonizing destruction of his enemies. He prays for terrible things to happen to the hell spawns of Cherry Hills........................... It is a sinful prayer....it is a prayer.... for sin.

The sacrifice must be stopped. Not just to rescue the innocent twelve year old Katie. Joe loves his daughter and would gladly give his life for hers. However, he knows that preventing the upcoming event on August 8th will cause great dismay among this cursed community. That is Joe’s purpose under God, and he accepts that responsibility willingly. To stop this chaotic celebration, intelligence must be found and collected. That means to start by locating the one man Joe thought he could trust. The man he came to love like a father. The man who convinced Joe to come to Cherry Hills in the first place.


This Program Was Recorded Earlier.
“Stephanie Jackson, coming to you live for channel 8's nightly news “Special” report.” “Tonight, we bring you a sad story about a terrible car accident that claimed five lives.” “A woman, who had just checked her eighteen year old son out of the Cherry Hills hospital, was heading home, when their vehicle collided with a Cadillac Escalade, carrying a man with his wife and daughter at a cross section.” “The woman, who was driving a Mazda Protégé, now identified as Whitney Conrad, suffered a broken neck while her son Franklin, was found decapitated.” “In the other vehicle, the driver, who is none then Elwood Peterson, a former physical education teacher at Cherry Hills High school, died from a broken rib that pierced his heart.” “His wife, Brenda and daughter Francis both died from massive head injuries.” “Sheriff Sean Arlester, had this to say about the accident.”
“Well, we still can’t find the Conrad boy’s head. I mean were looking everywhere. It’s sad that this happened to him. I mean it’s all sad, don’t get me wrong, but from what I understand, the boy had just awoken up from a long coma. I think it’s a (Bleep) shame, him getting killed like this after only being awake from his coma ten days, I mean, what kind of (Bleep) is that?”
“If the name Conrad sounds familiar, it should.” “Pastor Joseph Conrad witnessed a murder/suicide earlier this month.” “Tina Peterson, the second daughter of Brenda and Elwood Peterson, died from a self-inflicted gun shot wound after shooting her former boyfriend, Tony Slade.” “Pastor Conrad was only ten feet away.” “Sheriff Arlester remembers all to well how he and Joseph Conrad formed a life-long bond after that incident.”
“He was quite traumatized after that, but he pulled together pretty fast. He told me that he had a responsibility to help counsel the Peterson’s and the Slade family during those hard times. Joe and I became friends after that. I mean, I know that’s a pretty (Bleep) up way to make a friend, but hey, life works that way sometimes.”
“When we asked Sheriff Arlester about how he thought his friend would handle the loss of his wife and son, he had this to say:”
“Oh, he’s a tough son of a (Bleep). I mean the man is hurting, but his concerns are with his daughter Katie. He’s focusing on counseling her over the loss. He’ll be fine.”
“For channel 8 news, I’m Stephanie Jackson.”

July 31st 12:00 AM
Louis Arlester is startled when his television suddenly explodes. He looks to his right to see Joe standing nearby holding a smoking gun.
“How can you sit there, watching these lies on T.V. and not shed one fucking tear?”
“Well, if it isn’t Joe Jr.” says Louis “How did you get into my house?”
“I picked the lock asshole.” says Joe pointing a pistol. “We need to talk.”
Joe looks at his mentor but does not see the same man he grew to love. The stranger sitting before him had the look of lies and deceit. Joe holds back his tears as he walks toward a sofa across from the old man’s recliner.
“Where did you get that gun?” asked Arlester. “I’ve never known you to carry firearms.”
“Whitney always carried a gun under the seat incase she got car jacked.” responds Joe. “Although I doubt it will do me much good. Your head would just grow back after I blew it off.”
“No, I can die,” says Louis. “But only by unnatural causes.”
“In that case, you better start making sense old man, or you won’t live to see eighty-five.”
Louis Arlester lets out a cackle loud enough to wake the dead.
“What’s so funny?” asked Joe.
“You’re a dumb ass.” chuckled Louis. “I saw eighty-five decades ago.”
Joe forms a frown on his face and scratches his temple.
“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Joe
“It’s not something you can comprehend.” responds Louis.
Joe huffs loudly and rolls his eyes, as he begins to feel tension in his shoulders.
“Your son decapitated my boy then he put a bullet in my wife’s head.” says Joe raising his voice. “Then I blew his brains all over the side of a fucking ambulance, just to see him turn into some kind of monster and laugh it off!” yelled Joe. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can’t comprehend!”
Louis begins to form a smirk, which disappears quickly when Joe cocks his weapon. Louis leans back in his chair and reaches into his shirt pocket. Joe’s eyes widen as he takes aim.
“Take it easy, I just need a smoke.”
Louis slowly pulls out a cigarette and lights it.
“Well, Sean mentioned that he gave you a twenty-four hour head start. I guess you have time for a good story.”
“How is it that you can die but not your son?” asked Joe.
“He took the second potion about a hundred and fifty years ago.”
“Potion?” asks Joe “What potion?”
“Look, it’s only a matter of time before Sean figures out that you’re here,” says Louis elevating his voice. “So I suggest you shut up and listen! He came to us when I used to work on trains back in 1809.”
“Who?” asked Joe.
Louis tilts his head back forming a smile, as he reminisces.
“The Desolate, our maker, our salvation.....” says Louis as he closes his eyes. “I was one of the first two men to be chosen by him.”
Joe, with his finger still on the trigger, lowers his weapon, facing it toward the floor. He leans forward in his seat, placing his elbows onto his knees. Louis opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling.
“He was exiled from his world for trying to take over.” says Louis. “He’s a demon that took human form, by entering the body of a man who died while working on the railroad. The guy was beheaded when a train rolled onto him. My boss and I saw it happen. We were so scared; we didn’t know what to do.”
Louis peers over in Joe’s direction and smiles evilly.
“You have no idea the terror we felt when the man stood up and put his head back on.” Says Arlester as he lets out another cackle, which lasted only a few moments. “It’s kinda funny looking back on it now.”
Joe’s body develops a slight shiver, as he covers his mouth with one hand.
“He walked up to us and introduced himself as “The Desolate.” Continues Louis “He wanted us to become disciples and gain followers for him. In return, he offered immortality in the form of two potions. He said that those potions were free and that he would only create more under special circumstances. The potion I chose gave me an unlimited life span. I live a pretty normal life, growing and looking older. My heath is perfect, I never get sick and I heal extremely fast. I can’t die unless it’s an accident, suicide or murder. If nothing happens to me by the time I reach three hundred, I can drink the same potion again and regain my youth. Can you believe it? I get to be eighteen all over again.”
Arlester begins to let out another cackle which is quickly silenced when a picture frame becomes destroyed by the bullet fired from Joe’s gun. Arlester’s eyes broaden nervously as he fumbles and drops his cigarette onto the floor.
“Please, finish your story sir.” said Joe in a low voice.
Arlester slowly picks up the lit cigarette and sits back in his chair. After taking a quick puff, he continues his story.
“My boss took the second potion, which made him half human and half demon. He, unlike myself, cannot grow old or be killed. Unfortunately for him, once he drank it, he could only develop a twenty year life span. He could renew his immortality, but only with the blood of a female child that has not reached the age of thirteen.”
“Why my child?” asked Joe.
Louis leers at Joe and lets out a loud smoked filled sigh.
“Oh, man, I can’t believe I actually considered making you one of us,” Says Louis “You’re a damn fool.”
“Look, I get the age part, ok,” says Joe angrily, “but why not some other twelve year old girl?”
“When does your daughter turn thirteen Joe?” asked Louis
As Joe begins to realize the scope of this situation, his eyes begin to water and his voice becomes shaky.
“Lots of girls are born on August 9th.” says Joe.
“Yes, but not with an O Negative blood type.” responds Louis. “Same as yours right? That’s why my boys chose you and your family.”
“Your boys?” stammered Joe.
“Yeah, The Desolate chose them to run this town. I was given permission to retire from my duties because at two hundred and twenty years old...well, lets just say I’m glad I don’t need Viagra.”
Joe listens to Louis chuckle for a moment, as he wipes the tears from his face.
“If my daughter’s blood is all that’s needed to make the second potion,” asked Joe, “Why can’t you just take some without killing her? Why does she need to be sacrificed?”
Joe shockingly jumps out of his seat and fumbles his weapon onto the floor when the blast from a shotgun tears through Louis’s chest.
“Because the Desolate demands it!”
Joe shivers after hearing an evil voice behind him. He turns around to see Sean’s demonic face holding a pump- action shotgun. Water fell from the sheriff’s eyes as he peers at his father’s dead body.
“I’m sorry father,” sobbed Sean, “But you’ve already said too much.”
Sean cocks the shotgun and aims it at Joe. Joe stood frozen in fear as the discarded shell fell from Sean’s weapon.
“If you hadn’t come here, I may not have had to do that!”
Joe stands silently awaiting his fate then builds a frown of confusion as Sean lowers his weapon.
“I’ll keep the streets clear until 3, o’clock today, don’t waste any more time fucking around. Enough of my people died because of you, now get out!” yelled Sean.
Joe turns to the front door and prepares to leave, when his attention is suddenly drawn back to the sheriff.
“Hey, don’t forget your gun.” says Sean sarcastically.



July 31st 2:05 PM
The oldest living insect in the world is the common cockroach. They are approximately two hundred million years older then the dinosaur. Survival is all roaches know or understand. They can adapt to almost any environment except for some very cold regions. It is rumored that even after having a head cut off, a roach will remain alive for a long period of time. They feed on anything containing moisture, even when it is sweat coming out of a man’s pores as he sleeps behind bleachers at a local high school.
“Ahhh shit!”
Joe awakens from his slumber and begins violently swatting away the bugs crawling all over him. Afterward, he steps from behind the bleachers and raises his eyes, locating a large clock on the wall.
“I can’t believe I fell asleep and for so long.” thought Joe.
Joe leaves the school and ventures to the minivan, which is parked four blocks away. About halfway to his destination, he is given sinister looks from two men standing outside of an auto shop. Joe continues onward trying to ignore the pair of individuals. Once he reaches the minivan, he starts to get into the vehicle and is suddenly stunned at the sight of police tape surrounding a demolished diner down the street.
“What the hell happened here?” thought Joe.
Joe shuts the van’s door, and embarks onward to the diner. As he gets closer, he can see a man using a broom to clear away the glass and debris covering the sidewalk. The individual lifts his head and views Joe approaching. When the mysterious man drops the broom and walks inside, Joe reaches down and removes the pistol located near his ankle. Cautiously pacing with his weapon aimed, Joe looks into the front of the wall-less establishment, and focuses on the man inside. He sits in a chair looking at Joe step closer to him.
“Hello Mr. Conrad, name’s Creed.” “Dennis Creed.” “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Really...” says Joe sarcastically.
“I was hoping to talk to you before the hunt began.”
Joe took careful aim at the heavyset man wearing a cook’s apron.
“I’ll humor you.” states Joe. “What do you want to chat about?”
Creed smiles devilishly knowing that Joe pulling the trigger would do no good.
“I heard your mentor kicked the bucket...I’m gonna miss him. He and I have been through quite a bit these past twenty decades.”
“Twenty decades?” asked Joe.
“Yeah, give or take a year or two.”
Joe frowns confusingly at first, then a picture on the ground catches his eye. It was dated 1809.
“You’re the man in this photo aren’t you?”
“That’s right Joe Jr.” says Creed sarcastically.
Joe lowers his weapon realizing that Creed was the boss Louis Arlester mentioned.
“I guess its pointless shooting you,” says Joe “Especially if you are who I think you are.”
“I drank the second potion, your right.” says Creed excitedly. “You catch on fast fella.”
“Why haven’t you tried to kill me yet?” worried Joe.
“I’m too old for that kind of stuff anymore.” responded Creed. “Besides, I said I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“There are a few things you need to understand if you want to get you and your daughter out of this place in one piece. The Desolate works up a list every twenty years. On this list are names of people that are assigned very specific duties. Twenty years ago, my seventeenth wife was put on that list. Her job was to lure a twelve year old girl to the event for sacrifice. I found my wife hanging by her neck in the bathroom with a note pinned to her saying she didn’t have the heart to follow orders. She knew her punishment would have been death for not fulfilling her duties, but if she hadn’t killed herself, she would have been forced to watch her son die before her own demise.”
Joe wondered why Creed was telling him this tale, but was not about to interrupt. Creed began to whimper as he continues with his story.
“I raised of our son as best I could.” wailed Creed. “He matured into a wonderful man, finding a good wife to marry, fathering two beautiful little girls, not to mention his career. Life was good.”
Creed lowers his head and drops tears onto a photo which he holds in his hands. Joe stands there watching as Creed wipes away the dampness from his cheeks. Creed lifts his head up, facing the sky, watching clouds drift by.
“Good until The Desolate put him on the list. His task was to make sure everyone on the list did their jobs, particularly, his youngest daughter. She ended up killing her boyfriend before killing herself. I guess she had a lot in common with her grandmother.”
Joe’s mouth drops open, when he realizes who Creed is speaking of.
“The duty was passed onto her sister. She had already completed her task and was willing to accept her new orders, but then she fell in love with your son. Once she told your boy the truth, there was no turning back. My son was to be executed along with her because of their failures. I never dreamed it would happen right before my eyes.”
Creed stood up, still weeping, dropping the picture and begins walking toward an undamaged area of the diner. Joe felt tension in his body as he watched Creed pick up a machete from the counter.
“Then Sean killed my daughter-in-law!” raged Creed. “That son of a bitch, her name wasn’t even on the fucking list!”
Creed calms himself after noticing Joe gently stepping backwards.
“Don’t worry Joe Jr.,” says Creed in a mellow voice. “This isn’t for you. Now listen carefully, the people who take the second potion keep a secret from the others. We can be killed, either by cutting off our heads or by taking out our hearts. Some of us turn to dust when killed, depending on how old we are. If you see anyone with black eyes, that’s the way to deal with them.”
“But there’s so many......” stammered Joe
“Shut up!” demanded Creed. “You don’t have much time to wonder about that kind of shit! Now listen, don’t go back to your van. There was a bomb planted in there a few days ago. Instead, head to the towns entrance, you know, those huge doors?”
“Yeah.”
“Go there, and you’ll find a bundle behind a tree next to those doors. I suggest you go underground through the sewers to get there. They won’t think to look for you there.” claimed Creed. “And one more thing Joe Jr., learn the passages well down there. You just might be surprised at what you find.”
The two men share a brief moment of silence, then Joe turns to run away.
“Hold it!” yells Creed “I just helped you out, now you have to do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Take this.” says Creed as he raises the machete with the handle pointed outward in Joe’s direction.
“I want to join my family.”
Joe tucks away his pistol to its previous location, and wastes no time in retrieving the new weapon. Creed climbs onto the counter and lies on his back. He folds his hands together and closes his eyes. Joe raises the machete above his head, ready to bring it down onto Creed’s throat.
“There’s one thing I need to know Mr. Creed.” said Joe.
“Make it quick” said Creed with his eyes still closed.
“You said that one of your granddaughters had completed her task before accepting her sister’s responsibility. What task had she completed?”
Creed’s eyes squinted hard, but did not open.
“You’ll see for yourself.”
When Joe brings the machete down, it lodges into the wood, causing the head to roll to the edge of the counter. The body quickly turns into dust. Joe pries the weapon from the counter, then turns to walk away.
“He’s Coming!”
Joe staggeringly spins around just in time to see the eyes close on the severed head, then watches it dissolve.

Chapter 7


The Search Begins

August 1st 12:00 AM
In the year1859, a band of criminals made a landmark discovery. A series of underground tunnels provided these outlaws with a smuggling operation, which made them all very rich. Before this find was made, these individuals relied on railroad services to run their business. Everything from booze to gold bullion, made its way through these incredible burrows. The tunnels provided access to almost every location in the town. Getting through these tunnels could take weeks to negotiate. Unfortunately, for the man who is now roaming these halls has to learn them well, in just seven days.
“I can’t believe there are lights down here...” thought Joe.
As Joe sloshes through the murky, ankle high sewer water, he marvels at the amazing sites under Cherry Hills. Still carrying his machete, Joe treads softly into this strange environment. Scanning the area as he walks, he looks searchingly at the reddish-brown surroundings, which appear as if they were put together by hand with jagged stones, all shapes and sizes. Along the walls are bars of thin horizontal lights that flicker every forty yards. On the ceiling, were oval shaped lamps, glowing red, dangling from long black chains. There are many ladders that can lead a person above ground and stairways that go deeper into the complex. Joe comes upon one hallway that is much longer then the rest.
“This must be the one” thought Joe.
Treading cautiously down the one hundred yard long corridor, Joe begins to wonder why his steps are becoming heavier. Before long, Joe is in water up to his waist. As quickly as possible, he forces his way to the nearest set of stairs.
“Thank God these go up.” stammered Joe.
Joe hurries up the staircase and finds a door with a sign that reads. “Keep Out.” He looks back to see a flood coming up toward him, then quickly proceeds through the door. The door slams hard behind him after he enters the room.
“Oh shit!” exclaimed Joe.
Joe finds himself in a room blanketed in darkness. Using his sense of touch, he comes to a frightening conclusion, realizing that the room he is in is no bigger then a coffin. He begins to panic when feeling the cold sewer water rush around his feet. He felt around for a latch to the door he came in and was shocked to know it did not exist. Joe bangs on the walls as the water makes its way to his chest. When it reaches his neck, the floor suddenly falls out from beneath his feet. Illumination appears, as Joe lands on a narrow surface, which causes him to slide downward at an incredible speed. As he went faster done this tube-like slide, the surroundings began to close in all around him. Joe hugs his weapon to his torso and forms his body into a luge position.
“Oh shit!” “Oh Shit!” “Ooooh Shi....”
Joe drops out of a small hole as the slide ends. He loses his grip on the machete as he plummets downward.
“AAAHHHH!”
He violently flails his arms grasping nothing but air as he falls some two hundred feet toward the earth below. His life flashes before his eyes as he sinks deep into a large body of water. Joe floats unconsciously for a few seconds, then comes to. He swims upward until he finds he can breathe again. He coughs and gags as he tries to fill his lungs with massive amounts of air. He frantically paddles toward the edge of the stream, and comes to rest on a large stone.
“Oh thank you God.” says Joe, still coughing and gagging. “Thank you so much.”
He pulls himself out of the water and stands up. Joe locates his machete lodged between two stones and picks it up. The weapon he had tucked next to his ankle has vanished.
“Damn, gun’s gone.” complained Joe.
He looks up finding the way he came in and shook his head feeling amazed at the height he had fallen. He slowly glances around at the new surroundings.
“Where am I now?” questioned Joe
He stood paralyzed as he scanned the monstrous underground cave. To his right, he noticed an area with a large waterfall. To his left, he views a trio of tunnels going in different directions.
“Oh great, more tunnels.” moans Joe.
Joe walks toward the tunnels and discovers that there is visibility down the center cavern, the others, total darkness.
“I guess I’m going this way.” thought Joe.
As he paced gently into the tunnel, he wondered why the light ahead seemed to flicker in a strange manner. At the end of the tunnel, he enters a room filled with a series of lit candles. The wax lights had been placed everywhere throughout the area. There were many tables and chairs made out of stone-like structures. There were also five large boxes with locks that could not be opened without a key. Joe goes up to one of the boxes and wipes away the cobweb. He uses the handle of the machete to break the lock. After opening the box, Joe stumbles back and falls onto the floor after being startled by the contents.
“What the hell is this shit?” exclaimed Joe.
Inside were many severed human heads suffering from a great deal of decomposition.
“Why are these people so obsessed with heads?”
Joe slams the lid shut and observes another box.
“They can’t all be like this.” hoped Joe.
He breaks the lock off of three more boxes finding the same type of contents. Joe prepared to use his weapon again on the final box, then pauses when he realizes it is already unlocked. He picks up the broken lock from the ground and frowns at it.
“Well look at that?” said Joe.
He tosses the lock aside and opens the lid. Inside, he finds a small bottle of whiskey, four bars of gold bullion, a map, and an old photo album. Opening the album, he discovers a thick pack of papers listing the names of people refereed to as “The Desolate Consumption.” Joe begins to have a slight revelation, as he focuses on the boxes containing the severed heads. He quickly flips through the pages, not wanting to find confirmation to the thought was wandering in his mind. When the last name is located, he stands up and throws the papers, scattering them everywhere. Adrenaline fills his body as he clenches his fist.
“It can’t be.” whispered Joe. “It just can’t be.”

August 1st 1:42 AM
Joe sat quietly in a chair at one of the tables, sipping whiskey, while examining the photo album. He viewed many old pictures of Louis Arlester and Dennis Creed.
“I didn’t know photography existed in the 1800's.” thought Joe.
Each page he turns to showed people that he was already familiar with. The receptionist at the hospital, many of the clerks and patrons from the grocery store, some of the students, and his gun toting neighbor, are all featured in photos dating from 1859 to 1899. The one photo that catches his eye, is of a woman whom he had not seen yet. He pulls the picture out and sees a name and date. Tiffany Slade, 1902. Joe put the photo into his shirt pocket, then turns his attention to the map.
“I hope this will get me out of here.” reckoned Joe.
The map showed the entire layout of the tunnels under Cherry Hills. Unfortunately, Joe was below those burrows in an underground cave. The map also showed one location with a very long passage leading to water.
“Is this some kind of dead end?” wondered Joe.
Joe studies the map intensely, then has another revelation.
“The waterfall!” aroused Joe. “That’s got to be it!”
He quickly begins gathering his belongings and starts toward the exit. Before entering the tunnel, Joe gets tripped up by something on the floor. It was an old fashion potato sack full of rotten spuds. He promptly empties the bag and fills it with the machete, map, and one bar of the gold bullion. He then scurries down the tunnel toward the waterfall. Once there, Joe has to carefully keep his balance while treading the jagged rocks under his feet, as his body is poised between the cave wall and the falling water. Steadily, Joe, keeping his back to the wall, goes behind the waterfall and finds a set of stairs. The enormously wide stairway stretches as far as the eye can see.
“Oh man,” sighs Joe. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”


August 1st 3:29 AM
When Joe finally reaches the top step, he collapses onto his hindquater from exhaustion.
“I should’ve brought the whiskey....Damn it.” panted Joe.
Once he felt well rested and regains focus, he comes to the realization that he only has more huffing to do. The long stairway leads him all the way up to an apparent dead end. The only way out was a metal ladder which extends upward into nothing but darkness.
“Ahhh...!” exclaimed Joe “This is bullshit!”
Joe pulls the machete out and uses it to put two holes into the mouth of the potato sack. Then, he removes the belt from his waist and loops it into the holes. He places his weapon back into the sack, then wraps the belt around his body. He latches the buckle at his chest and allows the bag to dangle behind him. With his back pack in place, Joe begins the long climb up the ladder.

August 1st 4:15 AM
It was a hard climb for him, stopping many times for rest on the way up. Visibility was impossible due to the long stretches of blackness omitting from everywhere. Joe’s arms began to wobble slightly, and he had trouble staying conscious. Just when he thought he would black out, a sharp pain centered on the top of his head.
“Ouch!,” Yelled Joe. “Shit, that hurt!”
Joe had struck his head on a manhole cover just as he finally reaches the top. It takes much effort to force open the cover, but Joe prevails.
“Finally, some fresh air.” thought Joe.
Once out of the hole, Joe wanders the area, trying to figure out where he is. There are flowers and large stone structures everywhere. It did not take him long to figure out that he is walking through a graveyard. He eventually found the exit, but is forced to take cover when he sees trucks riding by with many gun carrying people. Joe hid behind one of the large headstones while watching the vehicles slowly cruise by.
“Son of a bitch,” says Joe speaking softly, “Their everywhere!”
Joe became filled with hope when he looked beyond the trucks to see the main entrance to the town, only a few yards away. That hopeful feeling did not last very long.
“The grave keeper never sleeps!” says a mysterious voice.
Joe spins around suddenly, to discover that the voice belonged to a large, seven foot tall, bald headed man, wearing overalls and holding a pickax.
“Oh don’t worry,” assured the grave keeper with an extremely deep voice. “I won’t give up your position to anyone, not until after I’ve killed you anyway!”
The man growled ferociously as he swung his weapon at Joe. Joe moves quickly out of the way as the pickax turns a headstone into pebbles.
“Oh come now,” menaced the grave keeper. “You must have some fight in you...”
Joe fumbled trying to undo the belt buckle from his chest. The grave keeper stomped toward him, raising his weapon again. Joe drops the bag, but manages to hold onto the belt. He side steps the man causing the pickax to become lodged into the ground. The grave keeper began gasping for air as Joe wrapped the belt around his throat. The bald man lets go of his weapon and frantically tries to get Joe off his back. Joe holds on tight as the man sways back and forth, trying to undo the grip around his neck. Joe cries out after feeling the pain in his back caused by the crushing force created as the grave keeper rams backward into a mausoleum.
“Get off of me!” gasped the man.”
The grave keeper manages to twist his body enough to reach down with his right hand and grab Joe by his crotch. Joe howls in pain while being flipped over and slammed onto his back. The impact of his body colliding with the earth rapidly took his breath away. The grave keeper staggers, as he removes the belt from around his neck. Joe rolls onto his knees and begins crawling toward the machete located in the sack.
“Where do you think you’re going?” steamed the man.
Joe feels pain in his ribs from the grave keeper’s foot, causing him to roll onto his back again.
“You got something in that bag for me?”
The large man retrieves the bag and pulls out the machete, then tosses the bag down onto the ground in front of Joe.
“Were you gonna use this on me?” chuckled the grave keeper. “Well, that’s too bad!”
Joe pulls himself up using a headstone for balance. The grave keeper hurls himself forward with the weapon raised above his head. The back of Joe’s shirt is torn as he ducks the swing of the machete. Joe quickly picks up the bag and faces his enemy.
“What are you gonna do?” asked the grave keeper. “Hit me with an empty tater sack?”
The grave keeper lunges at Joe again, but misses his target. The large man becomes disoriented by the sharp pain he feels when the sack containing a bar of gold bullion makes contact with his head.
“It’s not empty you big fucker!”
Joe swings violently back and forth with the bag making every shot connect with the grave keepers face. Blood spews from the man’s nose as Joe wallops him over and over again. When the grave keeper finally falls to the ground, Joe savagely pummels him again and again until he stops moving.
“Oh my God...”says Joe as he withdraws his attack. “What have I done?”
Joe had never killed anyone before and when this man does not transform like the sheriff did, he began feeling uneasy. The uptight sensation went away when Joe saw the grave keeper’s body twitch slightly. He quickly scrambles to find the machete and locates it near an arrangement of flowers. After picking it up, he turns his attention back to the grave keeper and stands ready with the weapon. There is no movement from his enemy. Joe steps closer and notices that the man’s eyes are open.
“His eyes...” thought Joe. “They aren’t black. He must have drank the first potion.”
Joe still felt a little uneasy about killing a man, but realizing that the grave keeper was just another one of the hell spawns of Cherry Hills gives Joe a slight sense of relief. He picks up the sack and places the machete inside. Joe heads back to the graveyard’s exit and looks around for signs of trouble. The streets were strangely quiet, which makes him feel uncomfortable. He takes a chance and dashes toward the town’s main entrance. Once he reaches his destination, he rapidly takes cover behind the large tree next to the doors. He checks again to make sure no one is around, then begins searching for the bundle.
“Ok, where is it?” asked Joe. “He said it was by the tree....damn it...where is it?”
Suddenly, Joe notices a large crack on the side of the tree. He uses his fingers to pry open the bark. Inside, he sees a large bundle of fabric with ropes tied around it. He takes the bundle out of the tree and unties the rope. Then, he lays the bundle on its side and unrolls it. First, he picks up a sheath.
“Wait a second.” thought Joe.
He gets the machete out of the sack and slides it into the sheath.
“This is a little too convenient.” Joe wondered.
Joe takes the sheath and straps it to his waist allowing the machete to dangle by his left leg. He returns to the bundle and picks up a bandoleer holding many shotgun shells. He puts it on across his chest and secures it tightly. Another piece of equipment found was a double barrel shotgun, already loaded.
“Now this can definitely take someone’s head off.” bragged Joe.
Also inside, is a small package with a note taped to it.
“Hello Mr. Conrad.”
“If you’re reading this, then you must still be alive. I hope the items I left will serve you well. Inside the package you will find a set of keys and two vials of the first potion. One of the keys are for the green house numbered 2212 which is the first house to your left. That was my home, but I thought you might need a base of operation. The other key will open an oak chest containing some explosives. You’ll need them to make your escape. The vials are for you to do with as you please. Consider it a reward for surviving your ordeal. Go to my home and get refreshed. You’ll find food and clothing inside if you need them, please help yourself. Good Luck.”
Dennis Creed.
Joe picks up the package and runs for the green house. Once there, he quickly opens the package and finds the key to the front door. He rapidly steps inside and shuts the door, locking it behind him. Unable to relax, Joe decides to explore the house. He heads to the kitchen walking steadily, with his shotgun aimed. He opens the refrigerator and finds only a small block of pepper jack cheese.
“Help yourself?” asked Joe “To what?”
He picks up the cheese and stuffs it into his mouth, then heads down the hall to the bedrooms. After a brief inspection it becomes obvious to Joe that the house is empty. Nothing remains except a black leather jacket hanging in the hall closet. He puts it on and walks to the back of the house. Next to the backdoor, was another door leading to the basement. Joe opens the basement door and finds a light switch on the wall. At the bottom of the stairway was a large oak chest. He goes down the staircase to the oak chest and uses the other key to open it. Inside, were several sticks of dynamite, a switchblade, and another double barreled shotgun.
“He wasn’t kidding about the explosives.” gleamed Joe.
Joe jerks suddenly, when he feels a stinging sensation in his right shoulder. He examines himself and finds a dart sticking out of his arm. He becomes dizzy as he pulls it out, then turns with difficulty, trying to make out the figure standing before him.
“I knew you would come here eventually....” mentions a feminine voice.
Joe feels lightheaded and his vision becomes extremely blurry, then he blacks out.

August 1st 4:45 AM
Moments later, Joe awakened and felt as though his body was floating. He lies on his back, unable to move. He could hear footsteps above his head. He struggles to open his eyes, and can barley make out what he sees. He glares upward at what appears to be a navel. His eyes travel from the navel up to a set of perky breast. He chuckles slightly then suddenly stops floating. He feels his body being lowered, then sees a woman’s face looking down at him. He wonders why she appears to be upside down.
“I suggest you go back to sleep and stop looking up my shirt.” says the mysterious woman. “I’m the only friend you have left.”
She straightens up, lifting the wheel barrel containing Joe. When he feels his body floating again, he blacks out.





Chapter 8


Grieving Daughter

Kremlin City December 3rd 1997
“Do you like baby oil?” asked Joe.
“Oh yeah.” responds Whitney.
Joe glances slowly over Whitney’s body as she lies on a bed. She lays flat on her back wearing only a tank top and panties. She bends her knees and eagerly spread her legs. She peers at Joe intimately as she gently pulls up her shirt, exposing her navel.
“What are you waiting for baby?” asked Whitney in a seductive voice.
Joe goes to her and sits at the foot of the bed. He sets between her legs looking down at her belly. Her knees become cushioned under his armpits. He caresses her slowly and gently, starting at the knees, working his way to her stomach. She looks at him with dreamy eyes.
“Aren’t you gonna take your cloths off?” asked Whitney.
“Not yet...”
Joe takes the bottle of baby oil and opens it. He raises the bottle high, as the oil oozes out slowly onto her belly. She jerks slightly when the liquid touches her skin.
“mmmm...., kinda cold.” whispered Whitney.
After putting the bottle aside, Joe begins to gently rub the oil into her skin. Whitney moans passionately as he tenderly caresses her body using the palms of his hands. Her abdominal muscles twitch as his finger tips graze softly over her torso. His fingers continue moving up her belly sliding under the shirt and begins browsing her ribs. She groans passionately as the shirt is lifted, revealing her succulent breast. He began molding her bosom, making her nipples touch each other affectionately.
“More oil baby, please?” she sighs.
Joe leans his head forward and takes both nipples into his mouth. She whines as his tongue dances between her tits. Her hands grip the bed frame above her head, while he legs wrap around Joe’s lower back, desperately drawing him in. He then lifts his head to see Whitney panting.
“I don’t like the taste of oil in my mouth.” whispered Joe
He runs his fingers down to her waist and gently tugs on her underwear. She lifts her pelvis as he removes her panties. He lowers his head and clamps down on the underwear with his teeth. Slowly but steadily, Joe pulls the panties off of Whitney. When they reach her knees, she assists him by lifting her legs one at a time allowing the underwear to easily slide off. He removes the panties from his mouth and pitches them aside then lowers his head to her vagina. She closed her eyes and bit lightly on her lower lip when she felt his breath between her legs.

“BUZZZZZZZZZZZ”
August 2nd 12:30 AM
The sound of an alarm clock frightens Joe out of his slumber. He awakens to find himself naked, lying on a couch and is covered with a sheet. The effects from the drug filled dart causes dizziness as he tries to sit up. Joe sluggishly scans his new surroundings and spots all of his belongings on a table next to him. His machete, still sheathed, lay next to the shotgun along with the spare shells. His cloths have been cleaned, pressed and are folded neatly next to his shoes.
“Where’s the map?” Joe asked quietly.
“It’s right here...”
Joe looks to his right and sees an attractive long-haired brunette, wearing reading glasses, examining the map. She folds the map and sets in on her lap. She then reaches into her shirt pocket and pulls out a photo.
“Who are you?” asked Joe.
She peers at him with a cold glare.
“You know what?” says the mysterious woman as she removes her glasses. “If I had to set that damn clock one more time, I would have gone crazy.”
Joe sits up, covering his lower body with the sheet. He puts his elbows onto his knees and rubs his face with the palms of his hands.
“Who are you?” repeated Joe.
“Call me Tiffany.”
She tosses the photo like a Frisbee in his direction. Joe looks at it, then her, and realizes she and the woman in the picture are one and the same.
“You’ve been moaning in your sleep for the past seven hours.” says Tiffany. “Are you alright?”
“I was dreaming...” replied Joe.
“It must have been a sweet dream.” she replied.
“I was with my wife.” whispered Joe.
“I guess that explains why you were stroking yourself.”
Joe drops his hands in frustration and gives her a look of loathing as a response to her remark.
“Whoa, take it easy.” says Tiffany. “I was just messing with you.”
Joe looks toward the floor with a frown on his face and rolls his eyes in disgust.
“Look, why don’t you take a shower, you smell awful.” states Tiffany. “Get yourself cleaned up and dressed, then we’ll talk, ok?”

August 2nd 12:42AM
After Joe gets dressed, he begins armoring himself with the bandoleer and machete. He picks up the shotgun and makes sure it is still loaded. Hearing a noise in the kitchen draws his attention. He walks slowly to the kitchen with his weapon aimed. Tiffany sits at a dining table, snacking on tortilla chips, with melted cheese and salsa dip.
“Come on sweetie,” says Tiffany. “Dig in.”
Joe stands his ground feeling suspicious about his hostess.
“Look,” says Joe. “I’ve gotten help from Creed, and now you.” “I thought this place was full of demons.”
“Creed was the only one to take the second potion and stay good.” says Tiffany, “Everyone else that takes it goes crazy.”
“Speaking of potions, where are mine?” asked Joe.
“Right here.”
Joe looks down and sees the two vials setting on the table.
“Ok, so why am I here? Asked Joe “And why are you helping me?”
“Because the people of Cherry Hills, lived in harmony until Sean Arlester took the second potion.” Responds Tiffany “This place has been pure evil ever since.”
Joe sits down across from her and lowers his weapon.
“I’m not following you.” said Joe.
“The sheriff found a way to extend his life and increase his powers by taking both potions. Normally, anyone who takes both would die.”
“Powers?” asked Joe.
“He has incredible strength. I can see he hasn’t gotten a hold of you or you’d have been turned into a pretzel.”
“Yeah, whatever,” scoffs Joe. “So, what’s the big deal with mixing potions?”
“If Sean takes the first and second potions together, he will become an unstoppable force, and turn this planet into a new kind of hell.”
“What’s to stop him from doing that now?” asked Joe.
“The price that comes along with taking the second potion is for him and others like him to remain in the confines of Cherry Hills.” Says Tiffany “If Sean tried leave, he would drop dead the second he stepped outside the town.
“What about his brother?” asked Joe.
“Patrick is a special case. Louis Arlester used his wife as an experimental test subject. Patrick’s mother was injected with both potions while she carried him in her womb. She died during child birth, but Patrick was born an immortal. He stopped aging when he was about twenty-five, but he ended up skipping town after discovering the truth about his mother.”
“Why did he return?” asked Joe.
“Hey, it’s not him you should be worried about.” says Tiffany, “If Sean is successful, you, your daughter, and anyone else that stands in his way, will die.”
Joe shakes his head in disbelief.
“Alright, so, how is he able to take both potions without dying?” asked Joe.
“The second potion can only be made with a pint of blood taken from a girl with O Negative blood. It has to be done the day before her thirteenth birthday. August 8th is the day it has to happen.”
“Why?”
“Because August 8th is the day of the Desolate’s return. Her body will become a feast for him once he takes human form. He won’t be able to feed on her once she’s thirteen, because her blood would be considered tainted.”
Joe closes his eyes and tries to block out dreadful images from his mind as he listens to Tiffany fill in the blanks about the horrific mysteries of Cherry Hills.
“After he feeds, he will reign in Cherry Hills for a year. Unfortunately for him, his essence is too powerful to remain in human form for very long. Continues Tiffany “Sean made a deal, claiming he could find a body for the Desolate, suitable enough to not only last more then a year, but is free to leave Cherry Hills as well. In return, The Desolate will give Sean a compound potion that will not kill.”
Joe develops a slight tremor as Tiffany’s story unravels.
“I still don’t understand why you’re helping me,” says Joe. “Is it vengeance for your son?”
“My son?” responds Tiffany with a confused expression on her face. “What makes you think I have a son?”
“The guy that was murdered by Tina Peterson,” explained Joe, “Tony Slade, wasn’t he your son?”
Tiffany Slade laughs hysterically as she applauds loudly.
“Oh God no!” giggles Tiffany. “He fell in love with me about ten years ago. I never loved anything about him except his dick. He was my bitch for a lot of years.”
She continues laughing for a few moments, until Joe becomes frustrated and stands up.
“Hold on, take it easy,” says Tiffany. “Come on, sit back down.”
Joe slowly takes his seat.
“I heard you were in the room when Sean killed his father.” said Tiffany.
“Yeah, I was.”
“Then I can only assume that Louis told you the story about how all this got started.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“I always like the way he told that story, until Mr. Creed told me how it really happened.”
“What happened?” asked Joe.
“The story you heard was all true except for the part about the man accidentally losing his head. He was actually placed onto the railroad track after Louis rendered him unconscious.”
Joe’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open.
“Why did he do that?” Asks Joe
“Louis and Creed found out about a ritual that could give them immortality. Part of that ritual was to kill a man by cutting off his head. They made it look accidental incase it didn’t work.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised...” states Joe. “Louis has been lying to me all my life. I still don’t understand what that has to do with you helping me.”
Tiffany begins to form gentle tears in her eyes as she folds her hands and rest them on the table.
“From the year 1809 to 1902, Louis Arlester spent that time killing off all the descendants of the man murdered on that railroad track.” Says Tiffany “Mr. Creed managed to save the last child and raise it as his own. The man who died on the tracks was named. Alex......Alex Slade.”
“You’re the final descendent?” Baffled Joe.
“I was wondering when you were gonna pull your head out of your ass sweetie.”
“Sorry.” said Joe. “So you’re his great, great...”
“Oh come on...” interrupts Tiffany. “That’s too many “Great’s” to list. Let’s just say I’m his Grieving Daughter.”
The pair sits silently while consuming the remainder of chips, cheese, and dip. After some time passes, Tiffany reaches into a purse that dangles on the back of her chair and pulls out the map.
“I marked all the important locations on the map for you.” states Tiffany.
Tiffany had highlighted the special locations throughout the area under Cherry Hills, but Joe was surprised to see these burrows were above the sewer systems. Joe scans the map and realizes that a path starts at Tiffany’s, goes under Creed’s home, then leads back to the graveyard. From there, he spots a trail going through many different locations heading to the church. The route zigzags up and down on the map. In some areas, the tunnels will force him to double back before he can advance further. To make matters worse, he will unfortunately, have to visit each of these locations, coming up from the burrows on the east side, traveling above ground through the establishments, then finding a way back down into the tunnels on the west end.
“Well, this is gonna be fun.” said Joe.
“There’s one more thing you should know before you leave.” says Tiffany.
“What’s that?” asked Joe.
“Not everyone in Cherry Hills knows about the potions. Many of them have no idea what goes on in this town.”
“How’s that possible?” asked Joe.
“From the very beginning it was decided that some of the people of Cherry Hills should remain naive, incase they were ever chosen for the event.”
“Ohh man...” sighs Joe, “This place is a fucking nightmare!”
“Yes it is.” responds Tiffany. “Listen, I know you don’t have a great deal of time, but if you can help it, try to just travel during the day. They come out like crazy at night.”
“Its night time now.” says Joe.
“Exactly, which is why you should wait for daybreak?”
“No,” says Joe, “There’s no telling what could be happening to my daughter between now and the 8th. I have to keep moving.”
Tiffany forms a look of disappointment on her face.
“What’s wrong?” asks Joe.
“Could you do me a favor and come see me when this is all over?” Pleas Tiffany
“Why’s that?” asked Joe.
“Well,” says Tiffany in a seductive voice “Let’s just say that I have a thing for baby oil.”
She gleams at him intimately, but he drops his eyes to the floor in sorrow. Tiffany could see the pain on his face as he took a moment to reminisce. A tear fell from his eye as he relived the wonderful honeymoon he had with Whitney. He was so deep in thought that Tiffany’s voice startles him when she finally speaks up.
“I’m sorry,” says Tiffany. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s all good.” says Joe. “I gotta go; I hope I see you again.”








Chapter 9

Graveyard Treasures


Cherry Hills, August 8th, 1809
“Trust me on this will you?” says Louis.
“It doesn’t seem right.”
“Look Dennis, you and I are in this together, c’mon.”
“I know, I know, I just don’t feel right about this.”
“Look asshole, you’re the one that brought this to my attention in the first place. Did you or did you not, find the scroll explaining in great detail about how a man can become immortal?”
“Yeah but.....,”
“Didn’t you also translate the inscription?” asked Louis.
“I know but....,”
“And didn’t you come to me saying we should give it a try?”
“Oh come on Louis!” snapped Creed, “We were both drunk as dogs! I never thought you would take it seriously!”
“Well, I did, now give me the stuff!” demands Louis.
“Louis, please don’t do this...” pleaded Creed.
“Here he comes!” snapped Louis, “Give me the stuff now!”
Creed hands Louis a small pouch containing white powder. Louis empties the contents of the pouch into a pint of brandy.
“Hey Alex,” Yelled Louis, “come over here, will ya?”

August 2nd 1:00 AM
The map leads Joe through a very small tunnel with a semi-low ceiling. He lowers his head in some areas as he follows a path to what appears to be a dead end. He peers at an area above him, wondering where the graveyard’s entrance is located.
“I should have come here over ground.” thought Joe.
Joe starts to turn back, when a reflection of light from the ceiling catches his eye. He pulls out the machete and pokes at the area, causing dirt and pebbles to drop. After a few minutes, enough is cleared away to expose a solid metallic object.
“What the hell is this?” asked Joe.
A creaking sound gets Joe’s attention. Small rocks and debris begin falling all around his head.
“Oh No!” yelled Joe.
Joe moves out of the way just in time to avoid the ceiling caving in on top of him. When the dust settles, Joe can now see that the metallic object was a coffin. The coffin lay perpendicular, with the lid open. Not wanting to see the corpse inside, Joe closes the lid and proceeds to climb up the coffin to the surface. He stops midway when noticing the headstone of the deceased. The name read: Alex Slade.
“No shit.” thought Joe.
Joe sheath’s his weapon and continues his climb reaching the surface. Once he is above ground, he begins walking toward the mausoleum.
“Oh damn!” whispered Joe.
He quickly takes cover behind a tree, when he spots two men standing over the grave keeper’s body. Chills run up Joe’s spine when he recognizes Sean with his brother Patrick.
“Looks like somebody beat him to death.” states Patrick.
“Yeah, but I don’t think Mr. Conrad could have done this by himself.” replied Sean. “One man couldn’t have been able to take on Big Jim alone.”
“Who do you thinks helping him?” asked Patrick.
“I don’t know, but we have to find out soon.”
Joe watches silently as the two men continue their conversation. Soon after, a van with two more men pull up at the site. They get out of the vehicle and collect shovels from the back.
“I don’t have time for this.” whispers Joe.
Joe treads softly around the group of men, ducking behind headstones, trees, and large flower arrangements. Sean and Patrick take their leave as the other men begin digging a grave.
“How am I supposed to reach that damn thing?” questioned Joe.
Joe aims his shotgun and considers killing them, but withdraws, realizing that they may be takers of the second potion. He sits down behind a headstone waiting impatiently.
“Where’s a cigarette when you need one?” thought Joe.

August 2nd 2:17 AM
Joe watches as the men slowly place the grave keeper into a body bag. Afterward, they lift the body and drop it into the hole.
“These guys are slow.” complained Joe.
Joe is able to hear soft chatter coming from the two men.
“Why isn’t this guy getting a proper burial?” asked the short man.
“Don’t question the sheriff’s motives,” responds the tall man. “Just do your job.”
After some time passes, the men complete their task and head toward the van.
“It’s about time.” thought Joe.
Joe quickly scurries toward the mausoleum as the men drive off. When he reaches his destination, he becomes bewildered when learning the door is locked. Without hesitation, he shoots the lock, turning most of the door into splinters. Joe is knocked to the ground from the force of the shotgun.
“Holy shit,” exclaimed Joe, “This thing’s got some kick!”
He picks himself up and pushes aside the broken pieces of the door. The room has only one coffin, surrounded by many small boxes. He goes over to one of the boxes and opens it. The contents did not surprise him.
“Another head, I should’ve known.” thought Joe.
He then goes to the coffin and begins inspecting the area. Joe alerts to a slight breeze at his feet.
“What have we here?” questioned Joe.
Joe lowers the shotgun to the ground and places his hands onto the side of the coffin. He musters as much strength as he can and pushes the coffin aside. On the floor, he locates an access panel.
“That’s got to be it.” hoped Joe.
He squats in front of the panel and begins to pry it open with the machete.
“Hey you!”
Joe drops the machete and fumbles with the shotgun as he tries to pick it up. Once he is able to take aim, he points his gun at one of the men he thought had vacated earlier.
“Whoa,” says the short man, “Take it easy with that thing!”
“What are you doing back here?” asked Joe. “I thought you and your friend took off!”
The petite chubby man just lingers as he stares at the gun barrel.
“I said what are you doing here!?” raged Joe.
“We just came back to get that bag over there.”
Joe glares to his left and spots a small plastic bag dangling from the wall, then turns his attention back to the man.
“We?” asked Joe.
The tall man comes up behind his partner, startling him.
“Come on Jason, the sheriff wants his Dad’s......”
The tall man forms an angry frown as he glares evilly at Joe. Joe becomes terrified when the tall man begins to demonically transform. He snarls at Joe while drool oozes down his sharp pointy teeth. The short man stands with his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
“Vincent?” says a dumbfounded Jason.
Jason slams against the wall after his partner gives him a backhand. Vincent lets out an ear piercing screech as he lunges forcefully toward Joe. Joe takes aim and pulls the trigger, but the weapon misfires. The shotgun is viciously knocked away by the villain. Vincent wraps his arms around Joe in a bear-hug, squeezing him with incredible pressure. Joe screams as he feels the bones in his body begin to crack. The stench from the monster’s roaring mouth momentarily distracts Joe from the pain. Vincent begins convulsing after taking a knee to the crotch causing his arms to weaken. Joe rapidly rolls aside and picks up the shotgun.
“At least your balls work the same.” Grunts Joe as he hugs himself, gasping for air.
Joe manages to reload his weapon before it is again swatted away. He gags for air from the crushing grip of Vincent’s hand as it wraps around his throat. Joe’s feet could not find ground as he dangled from the monster’s arm. He tried to take out the machete, but felt his wrist snap when Vincent grabbed it with his other hand.
“Now you die!” yelled Vincent in a hellish voice.
Suddenly, a shotgun blast goes off entering Vincent’s back, causing his chest to explode and cover Joe’s face with blood. Vincent cringes in anguish as he releases his grip from Joe’s neck. Joe falls to his side while Vincent drops to his knees.
“What.....The..... Hell..... Are..... You?” stuttered Jason.
Vincent turns around to see Jason holding the shotgun. He growls at Jason as he begins to rise to his feet. Vincent suddenly forms a look of shock on his face after feeling a razor-sharp pain in his neck. The expression remained on his face as his severed head falls to the ground and turns to dust. Jason trembles, as he sees Joe approaching him carrying the machete.
“Thanks,” said Joe, “Can I have my gun back?”
“What the hell is going on here?” asked Jason.
“You just stumbled onto this town’s dirty little secret.”
Jason’s hands tremble as he gives the weapon back to Joe.
“Look, uummm,” says Jason, “I have some towels in the van. There all yours, ok?”
Jason hurries to the van with Joe treading close behind.
“Are you alright?” asked Joe
“I don’t want any part of this sir, goodbye!”
The towels are thrown into Joe’s face. Jason starts the engine and his tires kick up dirt as he speeds away.
“Thanks again.” says Joe.
Joe wipes the blood from his face, and then proceeds to the access panel inside the mausoleum. Before he enters the tunnel, he quickly turns his attention to the bag hanging from the wall.
“I wonder what those guys were after?” thought Joe.
The bag contained nothing but a list of women’s names and some jewelry.
“What’s so important about this?”
Joe studies the list and notices dates next to each name.
1809-1821 Sara Smith
1841-1853 Heather Stevenson
1873-1885 Lucy Parker
1905-1917 Judy Thomas
1937-1949 Karen Sanders
1969-1981 Amber McDonald
2001-
Joe’s entire body fills with sorrow when he realizes what the dates mean. The small boxes in this room contained the severed heads of all the previous sacrifices. Joe drops the list, and returns his attention back to the coffin. He locates the name posted on the side. It read: Woody McDonald.
“Woody McDonald?” stunned Joe. “The co-founder of Woody/Arlester Bible College? Why would he be here?”
Joe stood confused for a moment, then remembers the last name on the list.
“Son of a Bitch, his daughter was a sacrifice!”


August 2nd 2:45 AM
It did not take long for Joe to travel through the underground burrow to the next location. He wondered where he would come up next. He focused up and saw a large vent with illumination coming through. The vent fell to the ground after Joe pried it open with the machete. He puts his shotgun aside and wedges his feet against the wall, easily climbing out. The room is dark with the exception a small light coming from the ceiling.
“Oh no!” exclaimed Joe.
Joe becomes baffled to the fact that he is now standing inside a bank vault. He cases the establishment, observing large amounts of cash and a series of safety deposit boxes.
“What the hell kind of bank is this?” wonders Joe as peers around at unsystematic surroundings of the vault.
The names on the boxes are in alphabetical order, making it easy for Joe to find his. Not far from his, he locates the box of Dennis Creed. He uses his weapon to open it and discovers a scroll with blood on it. Joe looks confusingly at the scroll, unable understand the inscriptions.
“What’s this?” Joe wondered.
Suddenly, the lights come on and fill the inside of the vault. Joe drops the scroll and staggers back. He looks to his right when he hears the vault door being opened. He sprints hastily back to the hole in the floor. He stops in his tracks when he finds himself looking down at both barrels of his own shotgun aiming up at him.
“Thanks Sir,” says Jason. “We’ve been trying to get into this place for months!”
Listening to the vault door opening fills Joe with horror. He starts to turn around to see who is coming up behind him.
“Don’t fucking move!” shouted Jason.
Joe can suddenly feel someone’s hands grasping his shoulders from behind. He inhales deeply when his body is viciously hurled through the air with tremendous force. Joe loses consciousness when his body collides with the open vault door.
“Is he out cold honey?” asked Jason.
“Yes dear..,” replies a demonically feminine voice.
“Get me out of here....”
A tall, muscular woman reaches into the hole and pulls up Jason. The duo then turns their attention to the unconscious man on the floor.
“Damn baby,” says Jason. “What did you do, kill him?”
“I’m sorry honey, I lost my head.”



August 2nd 5:00 AM
Joe awakens with a throbbing pain in his head. He tries to focus his aching eyes in order to interpret his new environment. He comes to realize that he is inside of a moving van, carrying stacks of money, stocks, and bonds. Joe receives an uncomfortable sensation from the hair being pulled on the top of his skull. His head is jerked violently to the left, forcing him to face a hideous, muscle bound female.
“What are you doing up?” asked the hellish female as she balls up her fist.
Joe closes his eyes, but still sees a flash of light, when the woman’s fist connects with his face.

August 2nd 3:00 PM
The biggest wedding in the history of Cherry Hills was held in 1980. The couple began planning their wedding when they decided to quit professional wrestling back in 1978. The groom, Vincent Adams, wore a tuxedo called a meridian, because he hated neckties. The bride, Cynthia Powers, had her wedding dress designed by her mother and two sisters. The wedding held the entire three hundred, seventy-three people, populating Cherry Hills at that time. Those famous words: “You May Now Kiss the Bride,” were uttered by the late Woody McDonald and the local sheriff was the best man. It was a happy time until the relationship between Vincent and the sheriff intensified. Cynthia hated that her husband would jump every time he was called to run another errand for the sheriff. She became lonely, angry, and eventually frustrated with her marriage. Her void was filled when she witnessed a short potbellied man robbing a local convenient store. The police would have caught him if she had not assisted in the getaway. The twosome formed a crime-ridden relationship that extended over twenty years. Eventually, they developed a plan to rob the bank where she worked, which may not have been possible without the aid of a man tied to a chair in the home of the now decapitated Vincent Adams.

“Wake up Mr. Conrad.” demands Jason. “You’ve been out cold long enough.”
Joe wakes up after feeling water splashing in his face.
“So, you’re Joe Conrad?” asked Cynthia. “I can’t believe you were actually able to kill Big Jim.”
“What do you want with me?” Slurred Joe.
“We just wanted to thank Mr. Conrad.” says Jason. “We knew there was a way into the bank from the graveyard, but we wouldn’t have found it if not for you.”
“That’s right, and we also wanted to say thanks for getting rid of my husband.” states Cynthia. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to kill him for years.”
Joe frowns at this batty couple with contempt. He grows irritated by their huge smiles and annoying chuckles. When Joe peers at this duo, he is reminded of Jason Alexander from “Seinfeld and the former female wrestler, China Doll.
“You’re both very welcome,” scoffs Joe. “Now untie me and let me go.”
“Don’t be so impatient Mr. Conrad.” says Jason, “We’re not done thanking you yet.”
“Yeah, we didn’t know drinkers of the second potion could be killed.”
“Look, I’m glad I was able to help you two,” said Joe. “I have to get out of here and find my daughter.”
“Honey, listen to this guy.” Says Jason “He sounds like old man McDonald doesn’t he?”
“He sure does sweetheart.” responds Cynthia.
Joe gazes at the devilish duo with hatred in his eyes.
“It was the two of you who killed him, wasn’t it?” asked Joe.
“Nope, not us,” says Cynthia. “That was our beloved sheriff.”
“Yeah,” says Jason. “He let the guy run all over town trying to rescue his daughter then he ripped his heart out.”
“He likes to play with his food before he eats it.” says Cynthia. “I guess that’s why you’re not dead yet.”
“Ok, so what do you want with me?” asked Joe.
“Well, you did kill one of Sean’s best friends.” mocked Jason.
“We called and told him where to find Vincent’s body and who killed him.” continues Cynthia. “He’s on his way to pick you up now.”
“We will eventually have to kill him too, now that we know how.” said Jason.
“Why kill him?” asked Joe. “You got what you wanted out of the bank and Vincent’s obviously not a weight on your relationship any more.”
“Because we know he has a way to break the curse that’s keeping my sweetheart stuck in Cherry Hills.” states Jason. “We’re going to Vegas after we get rid of him and take away his compound potion.”
Joe smiles and displays an expression of shame to his kidnappers. He lets out a warm giggle while shaking his head. The duo creates a look of confusion on their faces.
“What are you laughing at shit head?” asked Jason.
“You morons didn’t think this over too well did you?” scoffed Joe.
“What makes you think that?” asked Cynthia.
“Well, for one thing, your beloved sheriff looks pretty pissed too me....”
Jason is startled after hearing Cynthia take in a very loud breath. He stands in astonishment, while observing a hand sticking out of Cynthia’s chest holding her heart.
“As you can see, decapitation is not the only way to kill drinkers of the second potion.” says Sean with an angry look on his face.
“Sh...sh...Sheriff...” stuttered Jason.
Sean, with his arm still impaled through Cynthia’s chest, maneuvers around her body and takes a bite out of the heart. Jason begins to weep, as Sean lifts the dead woman’s corpse into the air and allows it to slide off of his arm. Her body makes a loud thud when it hits the floor.
“Ok, look sheriff,” stammered Jason. “I um, well, I just....”
Sean snarls loudly and rage fills his eyes.
“Did you really think Vincent didn’t know about you two?” roared Sean.
Jason drops to his knees, sobbing profusely.
“Please don’t kill me sheriff!” cried Jason.
“Shut up and get off your knees asshole, before I rip your fucking throat out!”
Jason quickly stumbles to his feet and wipes away his tears.
“Where’s Conrad’s belongings?” asked Sean.
“There on the table right here sir,” said Jason quivering.
“Untie him now.”
“Yes sir.”
Jason retrieves a pocketknife from his jacket and cuts the rope from Joe’s wrist. He then begins removing the rope around his ankles.
“I don’t get it.” wondered Joe. “This is the second chance you’ve had to kill me. Why haven’t you done it yet?”
“Like Cynthia said, I like to play with my food.” scoffs Sean. “You’ve lasted longer then old man Woody, and I kinda like that.”
When the ropes are finally undone, Jason stumbles back in fear when Sean suddenly lunges at Joe. Sean takes hold of Joe’s shirt and lifts him up off of his feet. Joe stares into Sean’s evil eyes trying not to show fear.
“Hang in there Mr. Conrad,” mocks Sean. “You just might make it.”
Joe’s body is launched into the air by Sean with unbelievable force. He crashes through a door and is rendered unconscious when his head strikes a toilet bowl.









Chapter 10


For Here Or To Go?


Kremlin City June 13th 1985
Alcoholics indulge their habits in many forms. Some like to go bar hopping, while others like being alone. Some of them think booze is an aphrodisiac until they become frustrated with their lack performance. Others drink to suppress bad memories, develop confidence, or to release hostilities on people who intimidate them. For former police officer Joseph Conrad Sr., he drank just because it made him feel like an indestructible overlord of his domain. If he was not happy, everyone around him would suffer the unspeakable madness of King Joe.
“Joe Jr., get in here!”
Joe Sr. glares evilly at his son as he enters the kitchen. Little Joe’s eyes widen in terror knowing that his father is drunk and can tell by the sound of his voice that something has him upset. His first instinct was to run away but just how far could a young boy go, especially since his father is a cop with many connections and could track him down easily.
“You forgot the fries again, you little fucker!”
“I’m sorry Dad,” cries Joe Jr. “I’ll go back.”
“I will have eaten the damn burgers by the time you got back dick head!”
The ten year old boy trembles in fear when his father collars him, lifting him off his feet.
“You’re fucking useless!” slurred Joe Sr. “You know that boy? You’re as useless as your mother was!”
Joe Sr., began carrying his son to the basement. The child kicked and screamed, while trying to break away from his intoxicated father. He knows where he is being taken and he does not want to go there. Little Joe dreaded the place he called “The Torture Chamber.” Midway to his destination Joe Sr., body slams his son to the floor and wraps a hand around his throat. The child ogled upward into his father’s terrifying gaze. He shivered in horror as the drool dripped from Joe Sr.’s mouth.
“Don’t make this any harder then it has to be!” growled Joe Sr. “You know how I feel about you since your mother died!”
The boy succumbs to his father’s demand. Joe Sr., picks up his son and continues on to the basement. Once there, young Joe is handcuffed to a header beam, which leaves him dangling high above the earth.
“The next time I tell you what to do,” says Joe Sr. in a quiet but menacing voice. “You better do it right....or I’ll give you the greatest pain ever recorded in human history.”
Joe Sr. turns away and stomps up the stairway leaving his son behind.


August 3rd 12:59 AM
“Joe? Can you hear me Joe? Come on sweetie, wake up.”
Joe opens his eyes and begins to focus on the familiar voice echoing in his ears. Once he regains consciousness, he becomes delighted to see the individual tending to his head wound.
“Hi.” slurs Joe.
“Hello yourself sweetie.” says Tiffany. “You had me scared for a minute there.”
“I wonder how many times I’m gonna to get knocked out before this is over.” Says Joe.
“Count your blessings, don’t complain about them.”
“Getting knocked out is a blessing?”
“No, but waking up from them is.”
Joe sits up on the floor and leans against the bathtub. He explores Tiffany’s eyes with compassion and concern.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” asked Tiffany.
“I think you should stay out of this,” Responds Joe “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I appreciate your concern sweetie, but I’m in no danger.”
“How can you be so sure?” asked Joe.
“My fiancé won’t let anything happen to me.”
Joe develops a look of shock on his face.
“What?” stunned Joe, “You’re engaged?”
“Well, only in his mind.”
“Ok, wait a minute here......”
“Stop right there,” demanded Tiffany, “The less you know about that the better.”
Joe shuts his eyes for a moment, then begins picking himself up from the floor. The pair walk out of the bathroom and go toward Joe’s belongings, still setting on the table.
“I can’t believe Sean let that guy live.” said Joe.
“Well, that’s not exactly what happened.” sighed Tiffany.
Tiffany takes Joe’s arm and turns him to the left. He finds Jason sitting in a rocking chair with a expression of pain on his face.
“Sean ripped his throat out.” scoffs Tiffany.
“I can see that.” responds Joe. “Hey, what time is it anyway?”
“A little after one sweetie.”
“It’s the 3rd already?” exclaims Joe. “I’m running out of time.”
“Then get going,” says Tiffany, “Don’t bother going back to the bank vault. The tunnel’s been sealed. You’ll find the next location in the bank basement.”
“Why don’t I just head straight for the church?”
“Hey, come on now, don’t get careless.” concerned Tiffany. “Remember, Sean is the one who likes to taunt his victims, all the rest just kill on sight. You have to stay low at all times, ok?”
“You’re right.” says Joe. “How far to the bank?”
“About four blocks east of here.” responds Tiffany.

August 3rd 2:19 AM
Under normal circumstances, the distance of four and a half blocks could be covered in a very short amount of time. Unfortunately, for Joe, he had to constantly find places to hide to avoid any confrontations with the patrolling towns’ people. Eventually, he reaches his destination, only to discover another obstacle. Joe was so focused on getting to the bank that he forgot to come up with an idea on how to get in.
“Oh great,” sighed Joe. “How am I supposed to get in here?”
He stands there for a few moments, then suddenly gets an idea.
“A diversion,” exclaims Joe. “I need a diversion!”


August 3rd 2:33 AM
In a large Ford pickup truck cruising down Hanover Street, rides a woman, her driver, and four other men, all carrying automatic weapons. With the exception of the driver, these hunters all display the nightmarish faces which come along with drinking the second potion. They are ready to kill anyone who is does not seem familiar to them. The vehicle screeches to a halt when they hear a loud crash in the distance.
“What the hell was that?” yelled the woman.
“I don’t know...” responds her driver.
“Well don’t just sit here,” demands the female, “Take off, lets go!”
The truck leaves tread marks when the driver steps on the gas. When they discover the source of the noise pollution, they can see that a yellow cab has crashed backward into a bookstore. The hell spawns jump out of the truck as soon as it stops.
“Isn’t this Jack’s cab?” asked the driver.
“Of course it’s Jack’s cab you dickweed!” scoffs the woman. “He’s the only guy in town that drives a cab at this hour!”
“I know that.” responds the driver. “But where the fuck is Jack?”
“Stop yakking and let’s go find out!” snarled the female. “On second thought, you wait out here!”
“Come on baby...” pleas the driver.
“Roy, just do what I say!” steams the woman. “He might double back!”
Roy stands outside, while the group of evildoers enter the establishment with weapons ready. No one realizes that there is gasoline omitting from the taxi, moving across the way from them. They also do not notice that Jack, the cabdriver is lying unconscious across the street, suffering from a head wound he sustained from the butt of a shotgun. The owner of that shotgun, sits next to him, smoking a cigarette he gained access to after pummeling the man.
“Sorry old timer,” says Joe. “But I really needed a smoke.”
Joe stands up and flicks the lit cigarette into the gasoline. He watches as the flames head toward the unsuspecting group of hell spawns. Joe lifts his shotgun into the air once the fire reaches the cab. He then shatters the bank’s large window in collaboration with the exploding vehicle. Joe runs inside the bank not looking back at the hellions screaming in anguish from the flames covering their bodies. The ignited female of this group storms out of the bookstore with rage in her eyes.
“What the fuck is going on!” yells the woman in a deep toned demonic voice.
“Josephine!” screams Roy as he tries to put out the fire covering her body.
“Get off of me you pansy ass fuck!” hollers Josephine.
Joe vastly discovers the door to the basement near the building’s back exit. Very little time passes as he quickly moves down the stairway and locates another access panel that leads him into the tunnel below the bank.
“This is almost too easy.” thought Joe.

August 3rd 2:55 AM
“So what happened?” asked Sean.
“I’m not sure,” says Josephine “All I know is that we heard a loud crash, we came to check it out, and “BOOM!”
Sean peers at the semi-incinerated female and suddenly feels like he is about to laugh. He covers his mouth with the palm of his hand and chuckles lightly. She gives him a look of utter contempt showing that she does not share his sense of humor.
“You think this is funny ass wipe?” steams Josephine. “How about I come and blow your fucking house up while you’re still in it, see if you think that shit’s funny?”
Sean begins laughing hysterically when the woman puts a finger to his face.
“Smell it!” yells Josephine. “Smell my fucking finger!”
Sean turns away from the angry female, holding his stomach, hunched over in laughter.
“Go home Josephine,” giggles Sean.
“Yeah, I’ll go home ya sucka face fucka!”
Sean continues laughing as he walks toward an area where his brother is standing next to a confused cab driver holding a bag of ice to the back of his head.
“What’s funny bro?” asked Patrick.
“I’ll tell you later.” says Sean still smiling. “So what happened Jack?”
“I....don’t know man...” stresses the cabby. “I felt something hit me in the head, next thing I know, I wake up over there, my cab’s on fire, and my smokes are gone! I just bought that damn lighter too!”
“Relax Jack,” states Patrick, “I’ll hook you up later, ok?”
Sean continues giggling as Patrick walks Jack to an ambulance parked close by. He then turns his attention to the broken window across the street.
“Hey Patrick, come look at this.” requests Sean.
“What’s up bro?”
Sean points out the shattered pieces of glass scattered throughout the bank’s lobby.
“Looks like this craziness was a distraction for someone to enter the bank.” states Patrick.
“Someone?” scoffs Sean. “Let’s face it brother, this guy’s good.”


August 3rd 6:21 AM
Joe becomes frustrated while negotiating the radical footpath of this tunnel. He does not know how much time has passed but it does not matter. Stopping the event and saving his daughter drives him forward. Finally, he reaches an end to this nightmare trail and finds a metal ladder that goes up. He clicks the safety lever on his shotgun and holsters it between the bandoleer and his back.
“It won’t hold long, I better hustle.” said Joe.
He begins scaling the ladder until he reaches the top. Once there, he peers down a long narrow crawlspace.
“Is this shit ever gonna end?” thought Joe.
Joe enters the tight environment and maneuvers onto his belly, crawling toward the next destination. After a short amount of time passes, he begins to hear chattering in the distance. As he gets closer, he can see a small vent in front of him. He makes it to the vent and peers downward into what appears to be a very crowded kitchen. The people below are moving at a fast pace, almost bumping into one another. Joe tilts his head slightly and recognizes a grill area.
“A press grill,” whispers Joe. “This is a fast food joint.”
He carefully continues onward, trying to move pass the chaotic environment. He stops moving and inhales gently with a look of worry on his face.
“Oh, this can’t be happening!” daunts Joe.
The shaft that Joe was crawling through suddenly snaps in half and collapses, sending him head first into one of the grills.
“Aaahhh!!”
Joe begins to cry out in pain after landing on the smoldering hot surface.
“Shit,, aahhh ,,,Shit!!”
After Joe manages to get away from the hot area, he scrambles to get to his feet. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, then becomes horrified when he realizes he is now standing in the middle of a fast food kitchen. Joe spins around to see the entire staff with black eye balls staring right back at him.
“Oh, Fuck Me!”
Joe promptly jumps up onto a grill and dives through an area where food orders are ready to be picked up. Plates began to shatter as they hit the floor while cashiers become plastered with chow. Customers watch in awe as Joe quickly scuffs the counter and sprints for the exit. The kitchen staff follows, but is unable to get around the large breakfast crowd cluttering the area. The customers all become horrified as they look upon the demonic faces of the fast food workers. Joe gets away but the naive people in this restaurant are not so fortunate. The onlookers are unable to comprehend the danger they are in.
“Sorry folks,” growls the manager, “Looks like we’re closing early today!”
As Joe dashes down the street, he can hear dozens of people screaming for their lives. He mourns for them because he knows that these are some of the innocent people Tiffany had mentioned earlier. Tiffany also stated that he should only travel during the day, but he will not take that chance. He knows that waiting for nightfall will avoid getting anymore innocent people killed. He finds an alleyway and runs toward a large green trash bin. He removes the shotgun from his back and takes refuge inside the smelly canister. Joe lowers his weapon and curls into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest. He cannot stop crying....




Chapter 11


King Joe Revisited


Kremlin City June 2nd 1993
Most of the time, when an individual turns eighteen, that person is considered an adult and is ready to take on the world at large. For some, however; it is much more difficult to get away from a parent who rules with an iron fist. One young man understands this fact better then anyone. He spent most of the prior evening taking a ferocious beating from his father. He awakens early the next morning to discover he has been tied to wooden boards designed to mimic a very well known crucifixion. He is upright propped against the living room wall, watching his father pacing back and forth, ranting and raving. Joe Sr. received some bad news yesterday and has already begun to handle it with an alcoholic breakfast.
“Dad?” whispers Joe.
“Well, hello son,” slurred Joe Sr. “It’s about time you woke your ass up.”
“Dad, why am I tied up?” asked young Joe. “What’s going on?”
Joe Sr., staggers close enough to his son for him to smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.
“You wanna know what’s going on?” yelled Joe Sr. “I had to go to court yesterday and guess what they told me?”
Little Joe develops tears as he bats his eyes, trying to withstand the retched air coming from his father’s mouth. He does not have to endure it very long because of the backhand he receives to the face.
“I said guess what they told me?” yells Joe Sr., “Why the fuck do I always have to repeat myself with you huh?”
“I don’t know what they told you,” weeps Joe. “Please tell me sir!”
“Are you sure you wanna know?” asked Joe Sr.
“Yes sir, you can always talk to me Dad. You know I’ll listen.”
“Yup, Yup, Yup,” says Joe Sr., as he clumsily tumbles backward. “You’re right son. I always liked that about you. I can always unload on you can’t I?”
“Yes sir, you can always count on me sir.”
Joe Sr., collapses into a chair and props his feet onto a coffee table.
“Well son,” says Joe Sr., in a mellow voice. “It looks like I’m gonna go to jail.”
Young Joe almost forms a smile on his face but drops it when his father looks over at him.
“The government got me for tax evasion and I have to turn myself over to the proper authorities within three days or a warrant will be issued in my name. Can you believe that shit?!”
Joe Sr., stands up and smashes a whiskey bottle onto the floor. He stands there and stares at the broken pieces, then flops back down.
“Its all good though.” slurs Joe Sr. “Before I go to jail, I wanna show you a trick I learned in the service.”
Joe Sr., reaches down next to his seat and picks up a wooden board. It is the same length and width as the boards his son is strapped to. Joe Sr., tied a rope around himself forcing his arm to become as straight as the board.
“Now watch this son.”
With one strong flex, the board was snapped in two. Joe Sr. laughs out loud when he accidentally punches himself in the head.
“Ok, now you try it.” says Dad. “Just don’t crack yourself in the head like I did.”
Little Joe tries to flex his arms but the malnutrition he suffers from makes this task almost impossible. Joe Sr., jumps up and charges at his son like a speeding train. Young Joe has to gasp for air when his father’s fist makes contact with his stomach.
“You skinny little prick!” hollered Joe Sr., “You gonna stay up there forever unless you break that fucking board, do you understand me?”
Joe’s sobbing was interrupted when another backhand connects with his face.
“I don’t like to repeat myself!” Yells Joe Sr., hysterically. “Answer me you little rodent! Do you understand me?”
Without giving him a chance to answer, he begins throwing punches into his son’s mid section. He wailed away like he was a boxer hitting a punching bag. Young Joe suddenly lets out a dreadful howl, with blood spewing from his mouth. Joe Sr. staggers back in shock as he watches his boy turn into a rage filled man. Joe Jr., musters as much power as he can find and manages to snap both of the boards that secured his arms. In doing so, one of his arms swung wildly making contact with his father’s head. Joe Sr., responds with rage of his own by kicking the base of the board under his son’s feet. When the wood broke, young Joe fell forward onto the floor, face first.
“You little fucker!” rants Joe Sr., “You ever hit me again, I’ll kill you!”
When there is no response, Joe Sr., raises his foot and was about to stomp on his son’s head. He stood there with his foot high, but did not bring it down.
“Joe Jr.?” says Dad in a very sober voice. “Joe Jr.?”
Joe Sr. lowers his foot onto the floor and walks away. He enters the kitchen, where he keeps a 45 automatic handgun above the refrigerator. After getting the weapon, he returns to the living room and sits in his chair in front of the coffee table. He stares at his son’s unmoving body, thinking that he has killed him.
“At least you’ll be with your mother again son. I on the other hand, will not be joining you.”
Kremlin City June 9th 1993

A week later, Joe Jr. awakens to shining lights above his head. He slowly leers to his left and views a bag filled with clear liquid, dangling from a long metal stand. He follows the thin plastic hose from the bag to the back of his left hand. He then looks to his right and observes a well-dressed man glaring down at him.
“Hello Joe Jr., My name is Pastor Louis Arlester. I’m afraid I have some bad news about your father. He committed suicide…..He’s dead.”

August 4th 12:00 AM
Joe sits in his garbage sanctuary listening to his mentor’s voice echoing in his head.
“He’s Dead,....................................... He’s Dead,...................................He’s Dead.”
He finally gets out of the bin and begins walking toward the fast food establishment. He walks with a blank expression on his face. He does not care about taking cover or hiding from his enemies. He is no longer concerned with being captured. Instead, he marches on to the next underground location indicated on his map. He covers the two block distance in only a few minutes. The front of the restaurant is surrounded by police tape. He takes a moment to glance over the carnage that occurred earlier. He wonders how many people were murdered by the hell spawns of the Desolate. After a few moments pass, he snaps the tape and proceeds inside. On the floor in front of the counter where customers have their orders taken, is a large carpet. Joe pulls up the rug and finds yet another access panel. This one, he pries up by hand with strength he never knew he had. He enters this domain without covering his tracks.


August 4th 1:30 AM
The burrow Joe travels through now is shaped like a figure eight without the criss-cross effect. For almost two hours, he negotiates this winding tunnel, until he comes to a strange location. It does not blend well with the rocky inner walls he went through to get here. Instead, he now stands in front of a rectangular shaped wooden wall
“This is strange.” thought Joe.
He places his hands on it and gives a gentle push. It does not move until Joe begins shifting the wood left to right.
“Oh, I see....” thinks Joe.
The wooden area turned out to be nothing more then a sliding door. After Joe shifts the door to the left, he becomes startled when he sees the back of someone’s head. Before Joe can figure out what to do, the individual stands up, holding a wad of toilet paper.
“Oh No!” thought Joe.
The man turns around after feeling a draft.
“What the fuck!” yells the young man.
When Joe quickly aims his gun, the frightened youth puts his hands up, letting his pants drop down around his ankles.
“Please don’t shoot me sir!” pleaded the young man.
“Look kid,” says Joe. “I’m not gonna shoot you. Just finish wiping your ass and get out of the way.”


August 4th 1:40 AM
The restroom of this mysterious establishment is very small. Only a few people could fit into this tight space. Joe stands at the center of this room while the young man leans against a sink.
“I’m sorry if I scared you.” apologizes Joe, “What’s your name?”
“Simon sir.”
Joe looks into the eyes of this young man and wonders why he is out at such a late hour.
“How old are you kid?” asked Joe. “Don’t you have a curfew?”
“I’m nineteen sir,” states Simon “I have to work late hours sometimes.”
“What is this place?”
“You’re in a video store sir.” claims Simon.
“Look kid,” demands Joe. “Stop calling me sir.”
“Yes sir… I mean...ok.” stutters Simon.
Joe focuses on the fact that there is no sound coming from outside the restroom. He then turns his attention back to the young man.
“Is there anyone else in here?”
“No si...umm....no, nobody, just me.” falters Simon.
Unwilling to trust the stuttering boy, Joe points his weapon again.
“Get up, lets go,” commands Joe.
Without hesitation, Simon stands up and leads Joe out of the restroom. The next tunnel entrance, indicated on the map is somewhere on the west side of the video store. Joe rams the gun gently into Simon’s back forcing him to move in that direction.
“Are there any other secrets in this place like in the bathroom?”
“Just the linen closet, but it’s locked.”
“Show me.” demands Joe.
“But it’s locked.”
“You let me worry about that kid.”
Once the closet is reached, Joe notices that the door is secured simply with an average padlock and latch.
“Ok kid, go over there and put your hands on that counter.” commands Joe. “I want you to face away from me and count out loud to a hundred.”
“Yes sir.....I mean ok.” stutters Simon.
Joe watches as the young man stumbles toward the counter. Simon does as he is told and begins counting out loud. As Joe listens to the boy count, he returns his attention back to the lock and easily breaks it with the butt of his gun. He removes the damaged fragments and shoves open the door. A string dangling from the ceiling is pulled by Joe, which turns on the inside light. Joe suddenly feels a strange sensation come over him. His ears perk up when he realizes the counting has stopped. He spins around to discover that Simon has disappeared. Joe gets into a state of readiness as he cautiously glares the surroundings of the video store.
“Look kid, don’t play games with me,” says Joe calmly, as his voice echoes throughout the area. “I’m not in the mood for this shit.”
“You never told me what to do after I finished counting sir.” reverberates Simon.
Joe gazes the area but cannot find the elusive Simon.
“Yeah whatever, I gotta go now.” says Joe as he glares around the room.
“I’m sorry sir,” responds Simon. “But I can’t let you go in there. The boss would have my head.”
“Yeah, I know about the boss’s obsession with heads.” says Joe. “I just want to find my daughter and get the hell out of this God forsaken town.”
He speedily turns to his right to see Simon standing in the shadows. Joe is unable to see the boy’s face approaching him from the center isle. Simon steadily walks toward Joe, un-intimidated by the shotgun Joe has leveled with his mid section.
“Your daughter is not my concern sir.” says Simon with a voice growing deeply venomous.
In the blink of an eye, Simon takes flight into the air and vanishes. Joe raised his weapon, trying to locate where the youngster had gone.
“I don’t have time for this kid!” yells Joe.
“Don’t call me kid sir.”
Joe becomes horrified when he spots Simon scaling the walls of the video store. Simon crawls on the wall like a fly, hissing viciously at Joe. Joe fires his shotgun but misses when Simon leaps out of the way.
“What is this spider man shit?” exclaims Joe as he tries to follow Simon’s movements with his weapon.
Simon darts around the room with incredible speed, snarling like a wild beast. Joe becomes slightly dizzy as he tries to aim the shotgun at Simon. Simon suddenly makes an abrupt halt and springs for Joe’s position. Joe’s eyes broaden as the youngster hurls himself forward.
“Aaahhh!” yells Joe.
Joe’s eyes clinch shut as the weapon discharges, hitting nothing but air. He falls backward into a display of movie rentals, scattering them onto the floor. He rapidly gets to his feet and realizes that Simon has vanished again. Joe stumbles, as he tries to step over the tapes and load his weapon at the same time. He starts to head back into the restroom, unaware that Simon is quietly lowering himself from the ceiling. The now shirtless Simon dangles from a web like substance protruding from his spine. The shotgun is savagely jerked out of Joe’s hands, upward into the air. Joe looks up just in time to see Simon hissing, as he submerges into the darkness above.
“You won’t need this sir.” echoed Simon.
As quickly as he could, Joe takes out the machete and stands with his back to the restroom door.
“Ok kid,” says Joe nervously, “You have officially freaked me the fuck out!”
Joe’s eyes scan the room frantically, searching for any sign of his evasive enemy. Without warning, the restroom door suddenly swings open, causing Joe to collapse onto his back. Simon grabs Joe’s arms, picks him up and pins him to a wall. Joe, with his arms sprawled out to his sides, cringes in pain as Simon forms a squeezing grip around his wrists. Simon growls evilly, as he becomes face to face with Joe.
“I said don’t call me ‘kid’ sir!” hissed Simon.
Simon’s fang filled mouth opens wide enough to swallow a watermelon. He omits an odor from his throat that reminds Joe of his alcoholic father. The stench is soon covered up when Simon releases a large amount of gooey bile from his esophagus, covering Joe’s entire head. Joe is unable to breathe as the sticky residue begins to harden.
“I’m sorry sir,” says Simon, “It’s nothing personal.”
When Simon loosens his grip from Joe’s wrist, he is surprised by the sudden thrust of the machete, still in Joe’s hand. Joe deliriously tears away at the solidified secretion, until he is able to take in a breath. When Joe eventually regains his focus, he is mortified by the sight of Simon’s lower body lying on the restroom floor. He never thought that the machete had chopped Simon in half right at the waist.
“Now that’s fucking nasty!” Cringed Joe
Joe peers to his left and locates his shotgun merged to the wall with more of Simon’s bile. He rips the weapon free and is able to remove enough of the gooey residue to reload the chambers. Joe is startled when he hears a loud piercing screech coming from the lobby. He begins to slowly follow the wide bloody drag marks heading out of the restroom.
“Alright, where are you?” whispers Joe.
Joe steps out into the lobby and cautiously roams the isles of the video store. The bloody drag marks lead him to one of the isles, then the trail disappears.
“Oh, the hell with this,” whispers Joe.
He treads gently toward the linen closet, scanning for the other half of Simon. Once the closet is reached, Joe quickly scurries inside and shuts the door.
“It’s a good thing I turned the light on already.” thought Joe.
The space inside is very confined and claustrophobic. Joe does not see any sign of a way out on the floor. Instead, he locates a large movie poster featuring Jennifer Love Hewitt on the wall.
“Hmmm, I wonder.” thinks Joe as he begins to take away the poster.
Behind the advertisement, he discovers a safe with a combination lock.
“Oh great.” says Joe with frustration in his voice.
He tugs on the safe’s handle and was briefly surprised that it opened. The surprise turned to terror when the opening revealed a blood drenched Simon, snarling and screeching
“Hello sir.....gulps....”
Simon is unable to say another word once his mouth becomes filled with both barrels of Joe’s shotgun. Blood and sticky bone fragments splatter all over the inside of the closet when Joe pulls the trigger.
“I said don’t call me “sir!”
Joe pulls the carcass out and finds a crawlspace hidden inside the decoyed safe.








Chapter 12


The Torture Chamber

In the year 1937, four inmates tried to make a daring escape from the Cherry Hills prison. It took only a matter of hours to make this happen. They knew that there was a building connected to the west side of the prison. They also knew that with the proper tool, they could dig their way to freedom. The warden of this facility was a sadistic but cheap individual. The budget was stretched so thin that seventy percent of the prison walls were made of tacky layers of plaster and charcoal covered with a good paint job. The inmates knew they could easily dig a tunnel out of the prison to the other location next-door. It took nothing more then a large metal chef’s spoon to scrape away the inexpensive cell wall. For three full hours, a crawlspace was created by one inmate, while the others cleared away the debris. What the prisoners did not realize, is that the building next door had been converted into a new headquarters for law enforcement. They were apprehended immediately. The incident caused a stir large enough to have all of the inmates transferred to another state, while the facility was torn down and rebuilt. The contractors, who were frustrated with the lack of good funding, did so without sealing the crawlspace. In 1995, the facility was burned to the ground for good after an electrical fire claimed almost fifty percent of the prison population. Today, a place known as ‘Simon’s Video Rentals’ now stands where the prison was once located. As for the crawlspace, the man inside is about to find out that history has a way of repeating itself.


August 4th 2:15 AM
“This isn’t so bad.” thought Joe as he makes his way through the crawlspace.
Negotiating this burrow feels strange to Joe, because even though he is underground, it seems like the path is going on an upward angle. Luckily, the angle is not slanted enough to make Joe slide backward. The thin tunnel is buried under a shallow layer of earth. It would take a person only a few moments to dig twenty-four inches and discover the tiny burrow. Joe squirms his way through until he reaches a thin white wall with a strange looking circular object in the center. The object contains small trinkets and gadgets that move around concurrently. Joe can hear a slight ticking sound coming from the device.
“This is the back of a clock.” whispers Joe. “I better bring it in.”
With very little effect, the clock is pulled into the crawlspace. Joe is able to kneel inside the crawlspace and aim the shotgun out of the hole. He scans the area inside for signs of trouble and is able to see many computers setting on desktops.
“Some kind of office building?” wonders Joe.
He grabs the edge of the hole and begins pulling the fragile wall inward. The thin wall crumbles as Joe breaks off piece by piece, making sure not to allow any to fall to the floor. After a while, Joe clears away enough area to enter the establishment. Joe climbs out of the opening and descends himself to the floor.
“I wonder why this place is so lit up at this hour?” thought Joe.
He wanders around the untidy workplace and begins to come to a startling revelation. He notices large cabinets filled with all types of guns, and plaques with the initials “CHPD.”
“Oh great!” says Joe forgetting to lower his voice. “I’m in a fucking......”
“POLICE STATION!” shouts a demonic voice.
Joe jerks around to see Sean charging straight at him like a middle linebacker. He grunts from the force of Sean’s forearm, which sends him crashing through a plate glass window. The back of Joe’s head meets violently with the floor, almost rendering him unconscious. Even though Joe’s vision is blurry, he can still see Sean standing over him. Sean somehow managed to get a hold of the shotgun, which is now aimed at Joe’s head.
“I guess we’re even Mr. Conrad.” says Sean. “I took your boy....”
Joe struggles to take in a breath when Sean squats and presses the butt of the gun into his throat.
“And you killed my Simon!” growled Sean.
With one quick thrust, Joe is knocked out by the force of the weapon when it made contact with his forehead.
Kremlin City 1984
When Joe was nine years old, he and his mother, Mildred, went to visit a dentist. Joe was terrified of having his teeth worked on, which is why she and the doctor would have to restrain him into the chair. The dentist would tighten the straps around Joe’s arms while Mildred assisted. Mildred then held onto her son’s forehead, while the dentist applied a gasmask over his mouth. The youngster hollers loudly until the gas begins to take effect. Joe forms a blank expression on his face and his eyes droop. A loud ringing developed in Joe’s ears, as he started having a vision that he would never forget. Mildred and the doctor suddenly take flight and glide around the room. Their bodies submerge together like a mixture of different color paint. Eventually, Joe’s environment turns into what looks to be the inside of a tornado. The inner baize color of this moving funnel, has streaks of multi-colored lights that flicker in many areas. The spinning continues for what seems like an eternity, then slowly begins to wind down. After a while, the room takes its form becoming the dentist office again. The doctor and Mildred descend gently into a soft landing. When the ringing in his ears begins to falter, Joe is able to hear the disoriented voices of the adults now standing over him. As he regains his focus, Joe can feel his body being set upright in the chair. The straps have disappeared along with the mask. Young Joe can feel numbness in the upper right part of his face. Mildred offers assistance as Joe sluggishly rises to his feet. The after effects of the gas left Joe with a sensation he never wanted to experience again. Unfortunately, now at the age of thirty-eight, Joe is forced to do just that.

August 5th 3:00 PM
“Wake the fuck up Mr. Conrad,” says Sean in a distorted voice, “Its time for pain!”
Joe wakes up to find himself lying on his back with his arms sprawled out to his sides. He can feel his arms being stretched as he lay on a surgeon’s table with his wrist tied to vertical wooden support beams. His bare feet are crossed one over the other with duct tape around his ankles.
“I borrowed this from the hospital.” says Sean as he walks, making circles around Joe. “I though it might make you feel more comfortable down here in the police dungeon.”
Joe’s droopy eyes go in and out of focus, as he sluggishly tries to follow Sean’s voice.
“I guess you’re wondering what’s got your head spinning.” says Sean as he continues pacing. “Well, it’s a very special cocktail designed by my brother. Don’t worry, it’s not habit forming.”
Joe is unable to speak and has to struggle to make himself breath. His mouth hangs open and drool runs down his cheeks.
“I would like to tell you a story Mr. Conrad,” says Sean with a mellow voice. “I suggest you pay attention.”
Sean removes a scalpel from his shirt pocket as he walks around one of the beams.
“This story is about a nine year old boy named Simon. His father comes home from work one day and is shocked to find his boy lying unconscious on the living room floor. The caring father ran over to him and found that he was not breathing. He desperately performs CPR on the child without any luck.”
Sean walks with the scalpel making a shallow wound beginning above Joe’s left armpit, traveling narrowly over his ribs, and ending by his navel. Joe quietly sighs as he feels the scalpel slowly cutting into his exposed stomach.
“The father started panicking as he ran to a telephone to call for help. When he picked up the phone, he noticed a black widow spider crawling on the floor. He turns his attention back to his son and does the only thing he could think to do.”
Joe begins clenching his toes as he feels another scalpel wound being applied to the bottom of his right foot.
“As the boy lay dying, the father remembers two vials of potion that was given to him by someone that said it would grant immortality. When the father first heard that tale, he thought it was hilarious, and didn’t take it seriously.”
Joe can only find enough energy to loudly gargle the bile in his throat, when he feels the scalpel digging into the palm of his right hand.
“But there were no alternatives left for the nine year old boy. So, the father gets a hold of a syringe and injects the boy’s lifeless body with one of the potions. The father jumped back only seconds after the drug was administered. He was shocked to see his son hoping around the room like a damn jumping bean.”
Joe feels his hair being pulled, forcing his head to jerk to the left. He can also feel the scalpel being placed gently under his right earlobe.
“Without thinking, the father sucked down the second vial and POW! Father and son formed an unbreakable bond like they had never done before.”
Joe hacks out a large amount of secretion, which lands on his left arm, when the scalpel begins carving into his face.
“A bond that would have lasted for an eternity,” says Sean as his voice grows deeply menacing, “If not for some fuck head chopping him in half and blasting him into smithereens!”
Joe is finally able to let out an agonizing scream that can be heard throughout the entire precinct, when the scalpel slashes deeply up the back of his ear. Blood flows out of the wound like a small waterfall. It splats loudly when it hits the floor.
“Oh, did that hurt?” yells Sean with a very intense monstrous voice, “Too fucking bad!”
Gobs of blood and bile fly into the air, out of Joe’s mouth, when both of Sean’s fists come down as one, like a hammer to an anvil onto his chest. Sean stops Joe from shouting by grabbing him under the chin, forcing his mouth to close. Sean takes his other hand and presses it to the top of Joe’s head.
“I could cave your fucking skull in right now, you son of a bitch!” said Sean in a menacingly mellow voice. “Too bad you won’t be getting off that easy!”
Sean releases his grip and walks over to a furnace. On this furnace, sets a small metal rod glowing red from the heat. The object caused smoke to rise from Sean’s hand as it burned into his own skin.
“Yeah, that’s hot enough.” says Sean as he watches his skin sizzle.
Sean walks back over to the table and grabs Joe by the top of his head again.
“Looks like you’re bleeding pretty good there.” says Sean in a sarcastic manner. “Let’s see if we can fix that.”
Joe lets out an agonizing outcry, when he feels the hot metal rod being pressed behind his ear. Sean roars viciously, as he hugs Joe’s head, forcing the wound to become cauterized. Both men are unable to drown out each other’s earth shattering sounds. When the room finally becomes silent, Sean stands motionless, and Joe is unconscious again. Sean remains firm with his stance as he pries the rod from Joe’s skin.
“How do you like that shit?” says Sean as he peers to his left to see Patrick sitting in a chair, reading a newspaper. “Cocksucker passed out on me!”
“Well, you did mess him up pretty bad bro.” responds Patrick, not taking his eyes off his reading. “Why don’t you just kill him already?”
“He killed your nephew ass head!” storms Sean. “Don’t you even give a fuck?”
“I didn’t mean it like that and you know It.” says Patrick now gazing into his brother’s eyes. “He’s already caused enough problems around here. If by chance he gets away........”
“He’s not going anywhere!” roars Sean.
The siblings stare deep into each other’s eyes for a moment. The silence between them is broken when Patrick stands up and drops the newspaper.
“As I was saying bro...” states Patrick. “If by chance he gets away, the Desolate will have your ass, not mine! You better remember that!”



August 5th 10:00 PM
“Joey...Joey?”
The voice is a familiar to Joe, but he is unable to pinpoint where it comes from. He lies on his back, trying to open his eyes. His eyes have been fused shut by his own dried tears. He can feel moisture on and around the back of his neck. The pain behind his ear is excruciating and the other cuts on his body are starting to itch.
“Joey...Wake up Joey?”
He again tries to open his eyes in order to locate the source of the voice. With as much effort as he can, Joe manages to move his eyebrows up and down developing wrinkles on his forehead. The movements eventually cause the crust on his eyelashes to flake away slowly. His vision begins to return as his eyelids twitch rapidly.
“Wake up Joey.....please?”
At last, Joe is able to see and discovers the source of the all too familiar voice.
“Mom “.....Is that you?”
“Yes Joey, it’s me...”
Joe looks to his left confusingly at his mother, wondering how she could be where she is. She stands at his side with a soft glow omitting from her skin. Light twinkles in her eyes as she smiles gleefully.
“Mom,”...slurs Joe. “I thought you were.....”
“Don’t think about that right now Joey.”
“But it’s my fault.” says Joe.
“No.” responds Mildred.
“If I hadn’t skipped school that day...you never would have....”
“You were nine years old Joey, it wasn’t your fault.”
“I was so mad at you for making me go to the dentist....I just....”
“You were not the drunk that crashed into me Joey, now stop blaming yourself.”
Joe forms tears in his eyes when images of his father flash through his mind.
“Dad never had a problem blaming me.”
“Your father blamed himself for what happened. He couldn’t find his car keys, so I got tired of waiting and left without him.”
“What?” says a stunned Joe. “Then why did he....?”
“He had no one else to unload on Joey. If he didn’t have you to pound on, he would’ve just kept on doing it to me.”
The words from his mother begin to ring true in Joe’s mind. He started remembering days when he would come home from school and see his mother wearing sunglasses. She wore them quite often, even at night. Sometimes, she would wear sweat shirts with long sleeves in the summer time. Joe never witnessed his mother cry. He never understood, until just now, what kind of pain his mother must have endured at the hands of King Joe.
“I’m sorry Mom, I didn’t know.”
“It’s all in the past Joey.”
Joe begins to cry as he turns his head, but is surprised when in the blink of an eye, he sees his mother is now standing to his right.
“Now listen to me sweetheart, this is important. You will find a way out of this if use your mind. Brawn will only work against you, not for you.”
“I don’t understand.” says Joe.
“If brawn won’t work for you, then it won’t work for anyone else. Remember that Joey.”
Mildred’s voice echoes as her luminescence begins to fade away.
“Mom...Mom?”
When the essence of Joe’s mother disappears, the room becomes pitch black. He lies on his back looking up into the darkness, trying to understand the words his mother spoke. He is able to caress the ropes tied to his wrists with the tips of his fingers. Joe grabs the rope, wondering how secure they are to the wooden support beams. When he tugs on them, the stretcher he lay on shifts slightly.
“It’s on wheels!” thought Joe.
He can also feel the sweat build-up on his ankles, which assist in loosening the duct tape. Friction creates warmth to his ankles as he tries to work the tape loose. After some time passes, he is able to release one of his feet from the restraints.
“I know what to do now.” thinks Joe.
He was about to tug on the ropes again, when the lights are suddenly turned on. Joe squints his eyes, defending them from the glare. Footsteps can be heard approaching from a set of stairs nearby. He remembers that there is still tape on one of his ankles. Putting that foot over the other should create an illusion of still being restrained. The adrenaline flows through Joe’s body as the mysterious individual continues to approach.
“I know what to do!” thought Joe, “I know what to do!”
Joe looks to his right when the origin of the cryptic person appears.
“Hello Mr. Conrad,” says Sean, holding a machete and a large bundle. “I was hoping you were awake.”
Sean places the machete at Joe’s feet, then uncovers the contents of the bundle. Joe looks at the blade by his feet and leers mischievously at Sean.
“I’m sure gonna miss Big Jim.” says Sean as he reveals a large pickax. “What the hell to you use to kill him anyway?”
“No comment.” states Joe.
“Oh come on...you can tell Me.” says Sean in a passive voice.
“No comment.” repeats Joe.
Sean eyes intensify as his grip on the pickax becomes tighter. His hands create a soft squeak on the wooden handle as he holds it firmly.
“Do you have someone helping you?” asked Sean in a low voice.
Joe hesitates to answer hoping his enemy will become annoyed with his silence.
“I don’t like repeating myself Mr. Conrad.” said Sean as his eyes become narrow. “Do you have someone helping you?”
“No.....Comment!”
Sean suddenly forms a look of rage on his face, as he lifts the pickax above his head. Joe does a back roll, causing the table to fall over. The machete is propelled into the air from the force of the table. Sean smashes the edge of the table with the pickax. He then looks to his left to see Joe standing up with his wrists still tied to the beams.
“Good one Mr. Conrad.” says Sean still holding the weapon. “Too bad it won’t do you any good!”
Sean charges forward not realizing that Joe has the Machete braced between his feet. Joe does a quick squat, then jumps into the air, lifting the blade with his feet, lunging it toward Sean. Sean howls in pain as he hurtles forward into the machete causing it to be impaled into his stomach. Joe grips the ropes to brace himself and uses one of his feet to push the blade in further. Sean, holding the pickax sideways, shoves the handle forward, bashing Joe’s face. Joe falls back, then accelerates his foot upward making contact with Sean’s groin. As Sean cowers over in agony, he is jolted by the force of Joe’s knee connecting with his face. Blood pours from Sean’s nose as he falls backward onto the broken table. Joe grips the ropes and frantically begins to shift his weight left to right, trying to loosen the supports beams. Sean slowly rises to his feet.
“You sure have a lot of spunk, Mr. Conrad!” says Sean as he begins to transform demonically.
Joe can see the beams shifting loose, leaving streak marks on the ceiling. Sean lunges forward again, swinging wildly with the pickax. Joe again drops down into a squat to dodge the impact of the weapon. The pickax narrowly misses Joe’s head and snaps one of the wooden support beams in half. Joe, with his free hand, grabs the blade, still impaled in Sean’s stomach. Without releasing the machete, Joe comes up from his squat and head butts Sean in the face. The shot causes Sean to fall back again, making it easy for Joe to retrieve his weapon. Joe rapidly cuts himself free from the other restraint, then scurries toward the stairway. Sean scrambles to his feet and notices Joe is no longer in the room. He angrily tosses the pickax aside when he hears footsteps going up the stairway.
“You’re a dead man Mr. Conrad!” screams Sean in a hellish voice.
Joe makes it to the top of the steps only to discover that the exit has been locked.
“Oh shit!” exclaims Joe as he begins to repeatedly ram himself into the door.
Panic sets in intensively when Joe hears Sean coming up the stairs. Sean makes a grunting sound with every other step he takes during his approach. Joe bashes the door open, but is ferociously tackled by Sean. The two men crash into a desk, busting it into many pieces. Sean suddenly cries out when he feels pain being afflicted to his crotch. Joe forces Sean to roll off to the side, then he removes the machete from between his enemy’s legs. Joe turns to run away, but stops in his tracks when he faces a room full of demonic looking cops.
“Deja Vu!” clamors Joe.
Joe darts off in the opposite direction, while the hellions start pulling out pump action shotguns and 9mm pistols. He cowers as he sprints, ducking and dodging a hailstorm of gunfire. Desks, chairs, computers, and file cabinets, are blown to pieces as Joe runs for his life. He rapidly maneuvers himself to a large window, hoping it is a way out. He dives, crashing through the glass while bullets sail narrowly pass his body. Joe inhales deeply as his body descends the two story drop to the parking lot below. He tries to twist his body as he falls to avoid landing on his head. He lets out a loud grunt when his body collides with the back window of a large green vehicle. Joe groans in pain as he quickly picks himself up, using the car for balance.
“It’s a good thing I landed on a convertible!” moans Joe.
Joe retrieves his machete and scrambles to the driver’s side of the damaged car. He is shocked to see the keys still in the ignition.
“No shit!” says Joe excitedly.
Joe opens the door and enters the vehicle just in time to avoid another hailstorm of gunfire. He turns the ignition, starting the engine, and peels out of the parking lot. The car becomes riddled with bullets as he drives over curbs and avoids hitting other parked vehicles. On the way out, the vehicle takes out a large blue mailbox, causing envelopes and small packages to scatter into the air. The shooting from the window is interrupted when one of the gunmen is forcibly shoved aside.
“Stop putting holes in my car, you ass heads!” storms Sean.







Chapter 13


Hot Pursuit


August 6th 12:00 AM
“Its quiet here...” says Joe as he sits in a vehicle under a bridge.
The “Hunch Back Bridge” is surprisingly large for the not so small town of Cherry Hills. It stands on pillars thirty-five feet high. The lanes travel north, heading into the town’s main district, and south towards a large two story shopping mall. Earlier, Joe was going south and managed to find a small dirt road that turns right just before the bridge. The path took him down a hill, through a number of camp sites, then doubles back to a dead end under the bridge.
“I can’t stay here forever.” thought Joe.
After Joe takes a flashlight from the glove compartment, he steps out of the vehicle and begins walking back up the dirt road. His bare feet ache with each step he takes. The shirt he wears swings open from the gentle breeze. The cool air is soothing to Joe’s battered body. He taps the machete gently against his right leg as he walks.
“What the hell am I gonna to do now?” says Joe in a frustrated voice.
After about twenty minutes, Joe makes it back to one of the camp sites. At the site, there are several unsealed garbage bags, filled with tin cans and a grill with a propane tank. The wind blows ashes out from the grill and causes some of the cans to scatter.
“These campers weren’t very clean.” thought Joe.
Joe sways the flashlight around and spots a small tent that had not been taken down. He walks over to it and peers inside to find two sleeping bags and a large metallic suit case. After stepping inside, he opens the case to reveal an un-assembled sniper rifle.
“Why would this be here?” wondered Joe.
At that moment, Joe hears a vehicle coming down the dirt road. He quickly closes the case and steps out of the tent. In the distance, he can see a pick-up truck approaching the camp site.
“Ok, here we go.” says Joe as he scrambles to find a place to hide.
The truck continues traveling down the dirt path until it reaches the site. When the vehicle stops, a man and a woman, step out each carrying a coffee thermos. When they get to the tent, one of them pauses and stares curiously at the opening.
“Hey, I don’t remember leaving this open.” says Roy.
“That’s because you’re a dick weed!” mumbles the female “No one but us ever comes down here at this hour!”
“Come on Josephine,” says Roy as he steps inside the tent. “Why do you keep giving me shit for what happened, I was blown up to you know.”
“Bullshit,” snaps Josephine. “You didn’t even get burned!”
“Well yeah, but.....I could’ve been killed.”
“Just shut up and put the fucking gun together!” says the angry woman as she stomps back toward the truck.
Inside the tent, Roy picks up a small lantern and lights it. He then opens the case and begins assembling the sniper rifle. At the truck, Josephine takes out a small pile of lumber from the back and a gas can. She carries the fire wood to the center of the site and drops it onto the ground. After stacking the wood into a pyramid, she pours the gasoline onto it and lights a fire with a long matchstick. Returning to the truck, she retrieves a blanket and a can of pinto beans. She then lays out the blanket close to the camp fire and sits down. Next to her ankle is a small sheath holding a dagger, which she takes out and begins using it to pry open the can.
“I swear I’m going to kill that piece of shit!” says Josephine as she dwells about the incident at the bookstore.
Josephine becomes frustrated as she struggles to open the can with the dagger. She hisses venomously at the dagger, chucking it aside. Her fangs begin to grow longer as she angrily squeezes the can. The can is ripped almost in half with one ferocious bite, causing the beans to drop onto her lap.
“Oh, fuck this shit!” steams Josephine as she throws the damaged can into the fire.
She stands up and brushes off the beans from her shorts, then turns her attention to the tent.
“What the fuck are you doing in there ass wipe,” asked Josephine. “You whacking off or what?”
When there is no response from her partner, she begins walking toward the tent. Once there, she peers inside to find him lying naked with a machete embedded into his forehead. The propane tank from the grill sets in the spot where the suit case once lay.
“Oh shit!” exclaims Josephine as she scans around the inside of the tent. “Where’s the fucking rifle?”
“Right here!”
Josephine spins around to see Joe kneeling by the truck with the weapon aimed between her legs. Joe takes aim and fires one round into the tank causing it to explode. The shock wave sends Josephine face first into the campfire. Joe quickly tosses the weapon into the back of the truck, then gets into the driver’s side. Josephine growls barbarically as she rises from out of the fire.
“You son of a bitch!” yells Josephine as the flames consume her body.
Joe starts the engine, puts the stick shift in reverse and steps onto the gas peddle. The tires kick up a lot of pebbles and dust as he turns the vehicle around. He changes gears again and speeds up the dirt road. He can see Josephine thrashing her arms wildly, trying to smother the flames from her body.
“That’s gotta hurt.” says Joe as he drives pass her.
Joe manages to make it up the hill and up the path leading to the bridge. Just as he starts heading south onto the bridge, the truck comes to a violent halt. The vehicle’s sudden stop sends Joe face first into the steering wheel. Joe looks out the back window when he feels the truck being lifted. He is stunned to see a badly burned Josephine holding onto the back of the vehicle.
“Get out of my truck asshole!” yells Josephine in a demonic voice.
Josephine begins to shake the vehicle side to side causing him to tumble around inside. Joe grabs the steering wheel and manages to pull himself back into the driver’s side. He gets a hold of the stick shift and puts the truck into reverse.
“Thank God it’s a 4-by-4!” says Joe as he steps on the gas.
Josephine screams in pain as she becomes crushed between the back of the truck and the bridge wall.
Joe rapidly shifts the gear to drive and peels away. He looks back and is relieved to see Josephine lying unconscious.
“I hope I don’t run into her again!” says Joe.
Joe begins to examine the pockets of the new clothing he obtained at the camp site. He discovers a wallet with two hundred dollars and a pack of cigarettes.
“Just what I needed.” thinks Joe.
He puts a cigarette into his mouth, but cannot find a way to light it. Unable to locate a match, he reaches down and pushes the button to the vehicle’s lighter. As he drives on, he can see the shopping mall in the distance.
“I’ve got to turn around.” thinks Joe as he begins to apply the brake.
Joe brings the vehicle to a stop, not realizing that Josephine is charging toward him from behind. She rams into the back of the truck with astonishing force. Joe’s head jerks back and cracks the back window, as the truck propels forward at an incredible speed. He tries to stop the vehicle, but discovers the brakes no longer work. His eyes widen as the truck heads uncontrollably across the bridge. As the truck moves forward, Joe manages to steer the vehicle down a side road that exits the bridge and leads to a parking lot.
“Come on, work damn it!” yells Joe as he repeatedly stomps on the brake.
Panic sets in when Joe realizes the steering has also malfunctioned, leaving him with no control of the vehicle. Joe holds his breath as the truck speeds forward toward a telephone poll. Just before the collision, he opens the driver’s side door and leaps out onto the ground. He grunts as his body collides with the pavement, while the truck wraps itself around the poll. Joe lies there for a moment groaning in anguish. Once he is able to pick himself up, he looks to his right to see Josephine approaching in the distance.
“What is it with this bitch?” says Joe as he turns to run away.
Josephine reaches the demolished truck and searches for any sign of Joe.
“That sneaky motherfucker!” steams Josephine as she brandishes a machete.
Josephine looks in the back of the vehicle and finds that the sniper rifle is undamaged. A look of fury forms on her face as she glares at the blood dripping down the blade she had pried from her former partner’s skull.
“I’ll get him baby!” says Josephine. “You’ll see!”
She viciously tosses the machete aside, where it lands close to Joe’s feet. As Josephine picks up the rifle, she is unaware that Joe is behind her, igniting a cigarette with the vehicle’s lighter.
“Aren’t you getting tired of this?” asked Joe as he flicks the lit cigarette into the gas leaking from the truck.
Josephine clumsily drops the rifle as she turns around to see the cigarette land in the flammable liquid. She lets out an eardrum shattering scream as her body is again engulfed in flame. Joe quickly picks up the machete and lunges toward her. Her anguish comes to an end when the thrust of the blade cuts deep into her neck. Joe continues running, as Josephine’s flaming head rolls off of her shoulders. He manages to cover a great deal of distance before her body even hits the ground. Joe takes cover behind a trash bin and watches the fire consume the truck. He ducks for cover when the vehicle finally explodes. When the fire begins to settle, Joe steps out from behind the bin. He stares at the flames as they cover the entire area. He is briefly startled when he spots movement coming out of the fire.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” says Joe as he watches Josephine’s headless body crawling on hands and knees.
When the body finally collapses, Joe lets out a sigh of relief.


August 6th 4:19 AM
“Hello?”
“Hi, May I speak to Sheriff Arlester?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Fire Marshal Findlay. I’m sorry to have I have to bother you at this hour, but we have a problem.”
“What’s up Marshal?”
“Well, there was an explosion earlier down here near the Cherry Hills Mall. Someone blew up a truck in the parking area.”
“Was anyone harmed?”
“I’m afraid so. We found a body burned up pretty bad so we haven’t been able to make a positive identification yet.”
“Can you identify what type of truck it was?”
“Yes sir, it was a Toyota Ford Runner.”
“........................................”
“Sheriff? Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here....I’ll get down there as soon as I can.”
“Well sheriff, we pretty much have this covered, but you might want to head down to the Vine Street camp site since that’s your jurisdiction. There was a fire down there as well, and another body. Plus, one of my boys says he spotted your car under the bridge. You reported it stolen, right?”
“Yeah, I did. Ok Marshal, I’ll check it out. Thanks for calling.”
“No problem sheriff, bye.”

August 6th 4:30 AM
“Josephine?” asked Patrick.
“Dead, across the bridge.” responds Sean.
“So, who’s this guy?” asked Patrick as he opens a body bag.
“His name was Roy, her boyfriend.”
Patrick seals the body bag and signals the coroners to come pick it up.
“What about your car?” asked Patrick.
“Do me a favor and call for a tow.” says Sean. “Have it taken to Carlo’s Auto Shop.”
Patrick started to walk away, then pauses to take another look at his brother.
“What?” asked Sean.
“Are you done playing with your food bro?” asked Patrick.
“Yeah ...he’s dead the second I lay eyes on him.”


Chapter 14


The Auto Shop

In 1985, a seventeen year old boy became intoxicated for the first time. He got into his father’s new BMW and decided to go for a joyride. Police began a pursuit when the vehicle was seen running a red light. Unwilling to face the consequences, he lured authorities on a car chase that went on for twenty-two minutes. He bombarded his way through heavy traffic, school zones, private properties, and a police barricade. Eventually, the chase ended when he lost control of the vehicle, and crashed through the main entrance of the Cherry Hills Mall. The driver suffered several injuries, which included three cracked ribs, both legs broken, and a fractured spine. Fortunately, there were no injured victims or lost lives during this incident. However, the path of destruction left a total of thirty-five car wrecks and thousands of dollars in property damage. After the driver recovered well enough from his wounds, he was sentenced to ten years hard time at the Cherry Hills prison. The punishment he was given was to work in the prison body shop, repairing all the vehicles he destroyed that day. When he survived the prison fire in 1995, he was put on an ankle monitor and forced to live in the apartment above Carlo’s Auto Shop. He works there still.
August 6th 9:00 AM
“Hey Kevin!” yells the tow truck driver. “Come on down, I got something for you!”
“I hear you Charlie.” says Kevin as he paces down a set of stairs.. “You don’t have to yell.”
“Is Carlo here?” asked Charlie.
“No, not till eleven.” responds Kevin. “What’s this?”
“The sheriff’s ride got jacked last night. This is how it was found this morning.”
Kevin makes a brief inspection of the vehicle, easily spotting the bullet holes and other damages.
“Looks like it was in a war.” says Kevin.
“Yeah, the sheriff was pissed.” states Charlie. “Hey, when are you going to get that monitor off your ankle? Aren’t you a little overdue with that thing?”
“Soon, I hope,” Responds Kevin “The courts keep giving me the runaround.”
“Ahh, keep your head up,” says Charlie as he get back into his tow truck. “You’ll get it off soon enough.”
“Ok Charlie, see you later.”
Kevin waves to the truck driver as he pulls away, then begins to give another examination of the war-torn vehicle.
“This guy is stuck on this color,” thought Kevin as he peers around at all the different shades of green on the PT Cruiser.
He enters the vehicle and slowly parks it inside the shop and over a hydraulic lift. After getting out of the car, he walks over to a switchboard and pulls a lever to elevate the vehicle. Once the car is raised to its peak, Kevin walks under it carrying a flashlight. When he shines the light up, he becomes startled to see Joe bracing himself under the vehicle.
“What?.....!”
Before Kevin has time to react, he is flattened to the ground from the force of Joe landing on top of him. Joe wrestles with Kevin briefly, then quickly puts the machete to his throat.
“I’ve gotten pretty good with this thing,” says Joe as he looks evilly into Kevin’s eyes. “So I suggest you don’t fuck with me!”

August 6th 9:45 AM
It took a bit of time, but Joe was finally able to find something to restrain Kevin.
“You don’t have to tie me up,” pleas Kevin. “I won’t give you any static.”
“Sorry, but I can’t waste anymore time.” says Joe. “Just sit there and be quiet and I’ll be gone in a second.”
As Kevin sits tied to a chair with extension cords, Joe shuffles through a box filled with car keys.
“Those keys are for cars that aren’t fixed yet.” claims Kevin.
“I’m not looking for keys to a car.” responds Joe. “I need the key that opens the lock down there.”
Joe points to the area under the elevated vehicle, where there is a padlocked panel down in the pit.
“You want his booze?” asked Kevin as he develops a curious frown on his face.
“What?”
“That’s where my boss says he keeps his stash. I assumed he meant booze or pot”
Joe angrily throws the box of keys against a wall.
“Damn it, I have to get down there!” says Joe in a loud frustrated voice.
“Dude, if you need a drink that bad, I got a few bottle of vodka upstairs.”
“Will you please shut up!?” storms Joe.
Joe calms himself and begins scanning the shop for tools to open the panel because he knows that the machete is not strong enough to break this sturdy looking lock. Eventually, he spots a set of bolt cutters inside a large tool shed. He quickly picks them up and scurries back to the lock. As he begins to work on the lock, he hears a car horn in the distance. Joe quickly climbs out of the pit and runs behind Kevin. He picks up a roll of duct setting on a counter.
“That must be Carlo,” Thinks Joe “He’s Here early.”
“What are you....?” Muffled Kevin as Joe covers his mouth with the tape.
After the tape is secure, he aggressively drags the chair with Kevin still in it and stashes him behind some crates. Joe rapidly dashes behind a car that has no wheels and hides. He views a small station wagon pull into the front of the auto shop.
“Yo Kevin!” calls Carlo as he steps out of his vehicle. “Yo Kevin, where are you?”
Carlo walks into the garage and looks toward the stairway. When Kevin does not come down, Carlo becomes suspicious. When he started to go up the stairs, a screwdriver mysteriously falls to the ground. He turns to his right and locates the fallen tool setting near a strange set of drag marks on the floor. Carlo follows the markings and is flabbergasted to see a tied up Kevin. At that moment, Carlo notices a reflection of light in the corner of his eye.
“Don’t move....” whispers Joe. “I’m not gonna to hurt you.”
Carlo stands motionless as he leers at the machete resting on his shoulder.
“I just need the keys for the panel down there.”
“Oh really?” says Carlo with a sinister voice. “Then you must be Joe.”
Without warning, Joe’s neck makes a popping sound when he is backhanded by Carlo, sending him into the pit. Carlo scrambles to get to the lever and pushes it, making the car fall at a rapid speed. Joe frantically tries to get to his feet as the elevated vehicle drops downward. He narrowly makes it out of the pit as the car slams hard onto the ground. He is able to pick up his machete only to drop it again after being rammed from behind by Carlo. Joe crashes head first into the shed causing tools to fall out on top of him. When Joe tries to get up again, he sees Carlo coming at him, revving a large circular saw.
“Holy Shit!” hollers Joe as he gets up trying to avoid the moving blade.
Carlo viciously swings the saw, missing Joe’s face by inches. Joe’s ankle becomes entangled with an extension cord, causing him to tumble backward onto the hood of the PT Cruiser. He catches the handle of the saw with both hands as Carlo tries to bring it down onto his chest. Carlo growls as he pushes the moving blade down, while Joe resists the attack by holding a firm grip. Joe’s body begins to tense up when he sees the saw shredding away pieces of his shirt. Carlo is temporarily staggered back when he feels Joe’s knee come up between his legs. Joe has to roll rapidly to his right as Carlo lunges forward with the saw again. He manages to avoid the blade as it becomes embedded into the hood of the Pt Cruiser. Joe grabs it and begins wrestling with Carlo for control of the device. The two men grapple fiercely with the saw above their heads. Carlo is jolted back when Joe begins to repeatedly head butt him in the face. As the two men continue wrestling, Carlo is suddenly tripped up by the machete. Both men do not let go of the saw as they tumble over. When they hit the ground, Carlo screams out a high- toned agonizing cry, when the saw digs into his chest. The blood sprays into the air, covering the face of Kevin, who is still tied to a chair.
“AAAAhhhh!!!!......Mmmmmm!!” muffles Kevin with tape on his mouth, as he deliriously thrashes his body, causing the chair to fall over.
Joe unravels the cord from around his ankle and unplugs it from the wall, cutting the power to the saw. The circular blade stops grinding into Carlo’s chest cavity, but the blood still squirts out profusely. Joe looks into the black eye balls of Carlo as he squats to pick up his machete. He stands up still peering into his enemy’s eyes, knowing that with enough time, Carlo will heal from his wounds. Joe listens to Carlo as he lay there hissing and snarling. With one swift stroke, Carlo’s head is lopped off by the machete. The head continues to hiss as it rolls on the ground, stopping face to face with Kevin. Kevin lay on his side screaming while he looks into the eyes of the decapitated, snarling face of his boss.
“I thought I told you to shut up!” says Joe as he kicks Kevin in the head, rendering him unconscious.
Joe quickly locates the keys hidden in the deceased Carlo’s pocket. He then pulls the lever causing the Pt Cruiser to elevate again. As he waits for the pit to be clear, he suddenly remembers what Kevin mentioned to him earlier.
“Didn’t he say he had some vodka?”

Chapter 15


Crying In The Dark


The definition of ‘Claustrophobia’ is a morbid fear of being shut in or confined. There are some that say that this disorder is hereditary. Others believe it can develop over long periods of time under traumatic circumstances. For one individual, being stuck inside a small ten-by-ten room with no windows is strangely comfortable. She knows that whatever is outside this room with only one door, is not pleasant company. She prefers the quiet time she shares with the insects crawling all over the dirty toilet bowl in the corner of the room. The gentle illumination omitting from under the door serves as a nightlight for when it is time to sleep. Her time alone is only difficult when she thinks of her father. Not knowing if he is alive or dead fills her mind with worry. She weeps in the darkness, wishing she had him to hold onto. She sits on a single mattress on the floor, hugging her legs into her chest. Her watery eyes soak her pants at the knees when she rest her head upon them. She is not concerned for her own well being as she is for her father’s. She is afraid that he is suffering in pain, suffering in sorrow, and worst of all, suffering......Alone.

August 6th 3:45 PM
“Hello Katie.” says Patrick as he swings open the door.
Katie jumps up and stands with her back into the corner of the room. Her eyes widen with terror as she looks at Patrick entering with a tray of food.
“I’m just bringing you some dinner.” says Patrick as he lowers the tray to the floor. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Katie breathes rapidly as she stands motionless against the wall. Patrick can see the fear on her face as he side steps away from her.
“I’ll keep my distance if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.” states Patrick.
The scared child gives no response to Patrick’s kind sounding voice. Her eyes start to become dry as she stares at him without blinking.
“You know,” says Patrick. “Your dad certainly has stirred up a lot of trouble around here.”
Katie becomes filled with an impulse of delight, but tries not to show it on her face.
“I guess you thought your father was dead, until now.” says Patrick. “Nope, he’s very much alive. I don’t know for how long, especially considering how pissed my brother is at him.”
Katie’s voice burns from the dryness that has settled in the back of her throat.
“Your brother killed my Mom,” says Katie as she tries to clear her throat “And my brother.”
“Not exactly.” responds Patrick.
“What do you mean, ‘Not Exactly’?” asked Katie.
“Never mind.” states Patrick with a devilish smirk on his face. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
Patrick steps out of the room, still in Katie’s view. He turns around and reenters the room pushing a wheelchair with a strange person sitting in it. The occupant’s identity is covered with a large black silk robe with a hood. Only the long yellow finger-nailed hands of this person are uncovered. The individual sits eerily still, showing no signs of life. Katie watches as this mysterious person is wheeled into the room.
“This one of your victims?” asked Katie.
“No, he’s a friend of mine.” says Patrick as he stands at the entrance of the door, grasping the wheelchair.
“He looks dead.” states Katie.
“Oh...he’s not dead.” responds Patrick with the smirk still on his face. “He’s just sleeping.”
“Ok, so who is he?”
“Like I said, he’s a friend.”
“Maybe yours ... not mine.” responds Katie.
“He could be.” says Patrick as he walks around the chair. “That is of course, if you and I can come to an understanding.”
Katie tries not to show fear when Patrick steps close to her. He squats in front of her and looks deeply into her eyes.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna touch you.” says Patrick. “I need you to listen to me very carefully.”
“I’ll listen, but could you please back up a little?” pleaded Katie.
Patrick straightens up and walks over to the mattress. He patiently sits down and folds his arms.
“Is this better?” asked Patrick.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good,” says Patrick. “Now listen. My brother has become reckless. He’s very full of himself. For years, he’s been allowing grieving parents to run all over the place, trying to save their kids. Its like a game to him, at least it was until your Dad came along. Now he’s completely lost his mind.”
“Sucks to be him.” says Katie sarcastically.
“Pay attention sweetheart,” says Patrick. “Or you’ll regret it.”
Katie lowers herself onto the floor and hugs her knees to her chest.
“Your father is only making things worse for you and for himself.” says Patrick. “If you help me, I can see to it that he is brought here to be with you. He won’t be harmed. I’ll let him stay here with you in this room until the event.”
“Then what?” asked Katie. “Make him watch while you guys turn me into some kind of sacrifice?”
“Katie, my dear.” says Patrick in a low menacing voice. “If things go on the way they have, that’s exactly what’s gonna happen.”
Katie’s body begins to shake all over as tears form in her eyes.
“Listen to me Katie,” pleas Patrick. “That doesn’t have to happen if you help me bring him in safely. If you come with me now, I’ll make it known to your father that you’re alright. Then, both of you can stay here together until the event is over. He won’t have to watch you die. I won’t allow you to be sacrificed.”
“You won’t?” asked Katie.
“No, I won’t.” responds Patrick. “Only a pint of your blood is needed to create the second potion. Once I have that, there won’t be a need to sacrifice you. I promise, I’ll let you go.”
Katie looks over at the mysterious individual sitting in the wheelchair, then turns her attention back to Patrick.
“What does any of this have to do with this....person....being my friend?” asked Katie.
Patrick wipes the sweat from his forehead and lets out a loud sigh.
“Let’s just say, that if you don’t help me, this....person....won’t be so friendly.”
Katie closes her eyes and thinks about the decision she has to make. She mentally decides what to say, but will not speak until she has one question answered.
“What about my father?”
Patrick’s eyes become narrow as he stands up. He walks over to the back of the chair and begins wheeling it out of the room. Once the strange person is exited, Patrick reenters the room. He gives her a look showing that his patience is wearing thin.
“Make a choice sweetheart.” says Patrick with a low-toned voice.
Katie gives Patrick a look of utter contempt.
“It sounds to me that my choice is no choice at all.” states Katie as she begins to weep. “Either he can watch me die or I can watch him die. That’s the real choice I have to make, isn’t it?”
Patrick’s eyes become demonically black and his face develops a gentle shade of red.
“Make.... a..... Choice!” says Patrick in a hellish voice.
Katie wipes away her tears and gives him a look that shows she is un-intimidated by his slight transformation.
“I think my Dad and I have a better chance if I don’t help you.”
Patrick lowers his head and closes his eyes. He stands there for a moment shaking his head softly from side to side. When his head rises, he opens his eyes and looks at Katie. She can see that his eyes are back to normal.
“I tried.” said Patrick in a calm voice. “You’re making a horrible mistake.”
“We’ll see....” whispers Katie.
The moment Patrick leaves the room, locking the door behind him, Katie storms over to the tray of food. She angrily kicks the tray, causing it to splatter the food against the wall. As she stands her ground, she pants rapidly and clinches her fist. Suddenly, she becomes very nauseous and starts vomiting into the roach invested toilet. The bugs scatter as she leans over throwing up. She wipes her mouth with one hand as she straightens up, but keeps her other hand balled into a fist. After a few minutes, she slowly tries to calm herself down. Her hand develops a slight tremor as she un-clinches her fist. Her breathing has slowed to the point where she started to feel dizzy. She flops down onto the mattress and again hugs her knees into her chest. She slowly rocks herself as she starts to cry again.
“My Daddy will save me.” thinks Katie. “He’ll save us both.”
The strange comfort she had developed for this small ten-by-ten room began to overwhelm her again. She lies down on her back and stares at the ceiling. She turns her head to the right and spots her cockroach friends crawling all around the toilet bowl. She gently calls out to them.
“Goodnight Curtis, Goodnight Tammy, Goodnight Greg.”
The light from beneath the door shines across her forehead. She glares into the illumination and gently blink her eyes. Her eyelids become heavier each time she blinks. After a while, her eyes remain shut and the need to slumber consumes her tiny frame. She whispers a silent prayer, then drifts off to sleep.

Chapter 16
The Desolate Garden
“Hello?”
“Ronnie, it’s me...”
“I was wondering when you’d call sheriff.”
“Listen, he should be in your area soon.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“See you soon sheriff.”

August 6th 3:45 PM
The tunnel Joe goes through now, is strangely cold. He can see his breath as he walks down this icy walled burrow. He occasionally slides on the slippery grounds, but still manages to keep his balance. This tunnel zigzags, forcing Joe to wander aimlessly for a long period of time. Eventually, the six hours of traveling comes to an end when he locates an area where there is a ladder leading up to a rectangular shaped piece of wood. He climbs up the ladder and easily pushes the wood in an upward direction, revealing the exit
“Another damn cemetery?” says Joe as he pulls himself out of an unmarked shallow grave.
Once Joe is above ground, he can see that the area he came from was meant to give an illusion of a coffin about to be buried. He glances around at his new surroundings and notices something strange. All of the headstones have no names, yet they are all dated and decorated with flower arrangements.
“I guess these people weren’t very important.” says Joe.
“Oh yes they were.”
Joe spins around to see a tall heavyset man aiming a hunting rifle.
“Why don’t you drop that blade sir.” says the man.
“Who are you?” asked Joe.
“Name’s Ronnie, nice to meet you, now drop the fucking machete!”
Joe tosses the blade into the hole he came out of, then places his hands on top of his head.
“Welcome to the Desolate Garden Mr. Conrad.” says Ronnie. “Walk this way.”
Joe paces forward, around headstones and stepping over flower arrangements.
“That’s right, keep coming.” says Ronnie as he keeps the rifle aimed at Joe’s head. “Alright, that’s far enough. Get on your knees.”
“What is this place?” asked Joe as he drops to the ground.
“Like I said, the Desolate Garden.” responds Ronnie. “It’s the place where people like you end up.”
“What do you mean, ‘People like me’?”
“Your just one in a long line of morons trying to save their kids from being sacrificed,” says Ronnie, “When you fail, and you just did, you’ll be buried here.”
“Why isn’t Woody McDonald here?” asked Joe.
“You’ve been to the mausoleum, you do get around.” says Ronnie as he forms a smirk on his face. “Woody was a friend of your old mentor. He was put in Mr. Arlester’s special place for sentimental purposes, I guess.”
“How sweet of him.” says Joe sarcastically.
“Yeah, I always thought so.” chuckles Ronnie. “Ok, just relax. The sheriff’s on his way.”
Joe stares down the barrel of the rifle that Ronnie has pointed at him. Ronnie stands his ground with a look of confidence behind his sheepish smile. There is silence between the two men, until a vehicle is heard approaching in the distance.
“Looks like the wait is over.” says Ronnie. “It’s over for you too Mr. Conrad.”
A police car, with its flashing lights, comes to a stop about thirty yards away. The driver steps out and proceeds to walk down a thin dirt path. Adrenaline kicks in full force when Joe sees that it is Sean approaching. Without removing his hands from his head, Joe slowly lifts up one of his legs and plants his foot into the earth.
“I got him sheriff.” says Ronnie as he peers to his left.
Joe quickly lunges forward and grabs the rifle. The two men struggle with the weapon, as Sean begins running toward them. Joe head butts Ronnie in the face, crushing his nose. Ronnie drops to his knees, but does not let go of the rifle. He loses his grip on the weapon after Joe kicks him in the stomach. Joe then aims the rifle at Sean and pulls the trigger. The bullet burrows its way through Sean’s left eye and shatters a window in the vehicle behind him. Sean falls to the ground, howling as he grasps the wound on his face.
“You motherfucker!” hollers Sean in a demonic voice.
Joe yells out in pain when he feels Ronnie biting at his ankle. Ronnie’s assault is interrupted when Joe bashes him over the head with the butt of the rifle. As fast as he can, Joe runs toward the shallow grave where he had earlier discarded the machete. He jumps down into the hole with the rifle and crashes through the counterfeit coffin. He lets out a loud grunt when his body collides with the tunnel floor.
“Get up dick head, he’s getting away!” yells Sean as he forces Ronnie to his feet.
Ronnie staggers a bit as he tries to shake off the dizzy spell from head shot he took previously. When he regains his focus, he can see Sean’s wound healing rapidly.
“Lets go damn it!” snarls Sean.
The duo sprints over to the area Joe had gone and peer down into the opening. They can see the broken pieces of the coffin down in the tunnel. Sean jumps in first, landing solidly on his feet.
“He couldn’t have made it very far!” says Sean as he investigates the burrow. “Get your ass down here!”
Ronnie speedily drops down into the opening, landing on his hindquarters.
“Your pathetic, you know that?” states Sean as he watches Ronnie get to his feet.
Sean begins running deeper into the tunnel, but stops after suddenly hearing a very loud thud. He looks back to see Ronnie lying motionless with a fallen headstone covering his face. Sean runs over to him and lifts the stone off of his head. Ronnie lay dead with his eyes open and his nose crushed inward.
“Should’ve taken the other potion, you pathetic prick.” says Sean as he drops the stone back onto Ronnie’s face.
“How’s this for pathetic?” says Joe as he aims the rifle downward at Sean.
The bullet buries itself into Sean’s nose just as he turns his head to look up. Sean falls to the ground clenching his face.
“Next time, I’ll shoot you in the mouth.” says Joe in a sarcastic voice as he runs out of the graveyard.
Joe makes it to the police car and enters it. Luckily, Sean had left the vehicle running. Just as Joe was about to apply the gas, Sean leaps out of the hole high into the air and lands on top of the vehicle. Joe quickly puts the car in reverse and steps on the gas. Sean rolls off the front of the car, hitting the ground hard. Before he has time to recover, Joe shifts gears again and charges forward. Sean’s bones make a crackling sound as his body becomes twisted under the rolling tires. Joe suddenly applies the brakes and steps out of the vehicle. He hustles around to the back of the car to find Sean face down with a tire pressed against the back of his neck.
“I hope it hurts like hell!” says Joe angrily as he takes aim with the rifle.
Sean makes a gargling sound as he tries to pry his face out of the ground. His face is plastered back into the earth when a bullet enters the back of his head. Joe continues firing rounds into Sean’s skull until the weapon is empty. He then chucks the rifle aside and gets back into the vehicle. Joe shuts off the flashing lights of the police car as he pulls away.
“That should keep him down for a while.” thinks Joe as he speeds away.

August 6th 7:18 PM
“Hey bro?” says Patrick as he stands over his brother’s broken body. “Can you hear me bro?”
“Yeah, I can hear you,” says Sean as his head wounds heal up slowly. “Just give me a minute.”
“Its taking longer for you to heal now.” states Patrick.
“That’s because time is running out!” snarls Sean as he tries to stand up. “If more of the second potion isn’t made soon, I won’t be able to heal at all!”
“Only ‘He’ can do that,” says Patrick, “and only at the event.”
“I know that!” yells Sean as he finally makes his way to his feet. “Just tell me where that son of a bitch is!”
“I don’t know.” claims Patrick.
“What do you mean you don’t know!” storms Sean.
“Your patrol car was found at the town’s entrance.” said Patrick. “Other then that, no one knows where he is.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” says Sean, “why would he go all the way back there after having made it this far?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll tell you what does make sense.” states Patrick. “There’s only one place he can go from here, right?”
Sean and Patrick look into each others eyes and both form devilish smiles.
“You have a point there brother.” says Sean as he chuckles slightly.
“Ok, let’s get ready for him.” says Patrick with a smile.


August 6th 7:30 PM
“Hello”
“Tiffany?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“It’s Joe.”
“You must be crazy calling me.”
“Trust me; I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope so, where are you calling from?”
“I’m at Creed’s house. Look, I need a little help.”
“I’ll try, what’s up?”
“I need a car. Can you get me one?”
“Just take your wife’s mini-van, it’s still parked in the same place and the keys are still in it.
“Creed told me a bomb was planted in there.”
“Yup, just look behind the back tire on the driver’s side. That’s where you’ll find it.”
“Tiffany, you just gave me the most wonderful idea.”






Chapter 17

The Shrek Mobile


August 7th 12:00 AM
When a person witnesses a gruesome murder, that individual usually becomes so traumatized, that hours of counseling and heavy medications are needed. For the gentleman sleeping soundly in his upstairs apartment, a night of heavy drinking was all the counseling he needs. After serving nine and a half years in the Cherry Hills prison system, gruesome is just a way of life for him. Although watching his boss get shredded with a circular saw and beheaded was a frightening experience, he was able to shrug it off rather quickly. He cleared his mind so well, that he never noticed that one of the bottles of vodka had gone missing from his stash. As he dwells in his intoxicated slumber, he is unaware that the garage door has been opened downstairs. He also does not know that the lamp next to his bed has been turned on, and that there is a man pointing a double barreled shotgun to his head.
“Wake up asshole!” says Joe as he presses the weapon to Kevin’s face. “Wake up, let’s go!”
Kevin sluggishly opens his eyes, but is unable to focus on who is aiming a weapon to his face. His eyes travel the length of the gun barrel, then downward to the machete duct taped to Joe’s left leg. Kevin’s vision becomes blurry for a moment, then he looks up to see Joe’s face come into focus.
“Oh no!” says Kevin, “not you again!”
“Yeah, it’s me, now get up!” demands Joe.
“What’re you going to do?” asked Kevin. “Saw me in half like you did my boss?”
“No, but I will shove this gun up your ass and blow the top of your fucking head off if you don’t get up right now!” threatens Joe.
Kevin carefully slides to the edge and tries to stand up, but stumbles over flopping back onto the bed.
“You shouldn’t drink so much,” says Joe. “That stuff will rot your guts from the inside out.”
“What do you want from me?” slurs Kevin as he tries to stand up again.
“I need you to drive me somewhere.” responds Joe.
“Dude, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m on house arrest.” says Kevin as he pulls up his pant leg. “See the ankle monitor?”
“Stand up and turn around!” orders Joe.
After Kevin is finally able to stand, he turns around while Joe pulls out a switchblade and squats behind him. He cuts the binding around Kevin’s ankle and removes the monitor. The device begins beeping loudly.
“What are you doing?” asked Kevin. “The cops will be coming now!”
“They will, but you won’t be here.” says Joe. “Now let’s go!”
Kevin stumbles out of the bedroom and staggers down the stairway with Joe following close behind. They continue on, until they reach the PT Cruiser in the garage.
“Get in.” demands Joe. “We’re taking this.”
“This green piece of shit?” said Kevin. “This isn’t too subtle you know.”
“It’s what’s available,” says Joe. “Now shut up and get in!”
Joe climbs into the backseat while Kevin sits in the drivers’ side. Kevin starts the vehicle and gently steps on the gas.
“So where we going?” asked Kevin.
“Are you a religious man?” asked Joe.
“No, not really.” responds Kevin.
“Well, you are now.” states Joe. “We’re going to Church.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind!” exclaims Kevin. “That place is gonna be packed, even at this hour!”
“Why’s that?” asked Joe.
“The event lures people from all over town.” states Kevin. “They bunk outside the Church until the ceremony begins.”
“If things go as planned, there won’t be a ceremony.”
“Oh yeah?” says Kevin sarcastically. “How do you plan to stop it?”
“If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.” responds Joe.
“You’re probably gonna kill me anyway.” states Kevin.
“Maybe, but right now I’m willing to make it quick.” says Joe. “If you don’t shut up, I promise, you’ll suffer quite a bit before you die.”
“What the fuck man,” says Kevin, “why the hell do you have it in for me?”
“I want my daughter back!” yells Joe. “And I will kill every son of a bitch in Cherry Hills to get her! Now shut the fuck up and drive!”
The vehicle cruises down the street with its occupants sitting quietly. The street lights gleam on the car’s tinted windows as it moves on. There were several stop lights that were surpassed without violation. Time moved slowly until they were half a mile away from the church. When Kevin drove up to another red-light, he looked out of the rear-view mirror to see police lights behind him.
“I think we’re getting pulled over.” says Kevin.
“Get us out of this or you’ll be the first one shot.” threatens Joe. “You get what I’m saying?”
“I hear you, just stay cool.”
When the light turns green, Kevin slowly pulls the car to the side of the road. The patrolman follows closely and parks behind him. Joe lowers himself onto the floor and aims the shotgun into the back of Kevin’s seat. The patrolman gets out of his car and walks over to the driver’s side window. Kevin rolls down the window and greets the officer.
“Hello sir, is something wrong?” asked Kevin.
“Can I see your license and registration please?”
“Well, here’s my license,” says Kevin as he takes a wallet out of his pocket. “But I’m not the owner of this car sir.”
Kevin’s body becomes stiff with tension when he feels the gun being pressed into his back.
“This is the sheriff’s car.” says Kevin. “I just fixed it and I’m testing it out.”
“I thought you looked familiar.” responds the officer. “You work at Carlo’s right?”
“Yes sir.”
The policeman examines the vehicle and notices the bullet holes and dents. He decides to try psychology on his suspect.
“You say it’s all fixed up huh?” asked the patrolman.
“No sir,” responds Kevin. “I just took care of the engine. I still have to do the body work.”
“Little late to be working, isn’t it?”
“The sheriff wants it done before the event.” claimed Kevin, “Otherwise; I won’t have permission to attend. I have to work around the clock until it’s done.”
“Yeah, he can be pretty strict sometimes.” says the officer with a slight chuckle. “I almost didn’t get to go to the last event because I hadn’t completed my paperwork. Can you believe that?”
“Yes sir.” responds Kevin with a nervous smile.
The patrolman returns the driver’s license back to Kevin and takes out his walkie-talkie.
“Officer Stan to base?” says the patrolman as he speaks into the communicator.
“Go ahead.....bzzzz.”
“All checked out here, over?”
“Ok, over and out......bzzzz.”
The policeman puts the walkie-talkie away and gives Kevin a warm smile.
“Good luck getting this car fixed.” says the officer. “I hope to see you at the event.”
“Thank you sir, Goodnight.” says Kevin as he breathes a sigh of relief.
The policeman goes back to his car and drives off. Kevin sits motionless holding his hand to his chest. Joe sits up with the shotgun still pressed into the back of the seat.
“You did good.” says Joe.
“Count your blessings.” says Kevin. “I doubt your gonna keep having this kind of luck.”
“You’re the one that’s lucky.” responds Joe. “Now let’s get Going.”

Noah, the famous biblical figure, is a theme for a traveling carnival that comes to Cherry Hills, once a year. There are many types of entertainment that are available during this happy occasion. The big red and white tent houses the seventh largest circus in the country. It is called ‘Noah’s Circus’ because it is rumored to have at least two of every animal alive today. Surrounding the circus tents are two of every kind of ride ever to exist for a theme park. The roller coasters, Ferris-wheels, merry-go-rounds, and bumpers cars can be enjoyed by people of all ages. Under normal circumstances, this monumental occasion has an attendance that turns the rest of Cherry Hills into a ghost town. On this day, however; only two individuals setting in a vehicle, that blend in with a set of oversized bumper cars, are guest of Noah’s traveling carnival. The two men watch as the rest of the town’s people gather together across the street at a local church. Hundreds of people are bunched together with tents, sleeping bags, mobile trailers, and vehicles of all kinds. The crowd waits for the event to begin, while one man tries to figure out a way to stop it from happening.
August 7th 4:10 AM
“How long are we gonna sit here?” asked Kevin.
“Until I figure out a way to get in there.” responds Joe.
“You didn’t think this through to good, did you?”
Kevin jolts when the shotgun goes off putting a hole in the ceiling above his head. He slowly turns his head to see Joe aiming the weapon to his face.
“How the fuck was I supposed to come up with a plan to save my daughter before she was taken from me?” storms Joe. “You think I saw this shit coming?”
“Ok, ok, take it easy!”
“I’m through taking it easy!” yells Joe. “Now shut up before I blow your head off!”
“You ain’t no cold-blooded killer.” says Kevin as he reaches for a pistol he secretly had tucked in the front of his jeans. “If you were gonna do it, it would have happened by now.”
“You’re really starting to piss me off!” states Joe in an angry voice.
“Why don’t you just let me go?” says Kevin as a confidant smile forms on his lips as he witnesses people approaching in the distance. “I don’t serve a purpose for you now anyway, right?”
Suddenly, Kevin spins around with the gun and pulls the trigger. His eyes broaden with fear when he realizes the safety latch was still up. Joe expresses no emotion when he pulls the trigger causing pieces of bloody skull fragments to shatter the windshield, and cover the hood of the vehicle with glass. Kevin’s body slumps over into the steering wheel and puts weight on the car horn. Until now, Joe did not realize that the gunshots had already gotten the attention of the large group of citizens across the street. Many of them had begun walking toward the deserted carnival looking to discover the source of the noise pollution.
“Looks like you just served your purpose Kevin.” says Joe as he quickly gets out of the passenger’s side of the vehicle.










Chapter 18

Finder’s Keeper’s


After departing from the Shrek mobile, Joe scurries toward a hotdog-stand and ducks behind it. He watches as the curious crowd circles the Cruiser and cringe at the sight of Kevin’s body. Without hesitation, Joe cowers, as he makes his way to a group of parallel parked vehicles on the street surrounding the church. He kneels behind a van when he spots Patrick coming out of the main entrance. Patrick walks over to a man sitting in a large meat truck.
“What’s going on over there?” asked Patrick.
“I don’t know.” says the man as he steps out from the truck. “There were a couple of loud booms a few minutes ago and everybody started running over there to see what it was.”
“Any idea what it happened?” asked Patrick.
“Sounded like somebody shot a car, that horn hasn’t stopped blowing since that second boom happened.”
“Alright, I’ll check it out.” states Patrick. “In the meantime, I need you to pull this truck around to the side. Why did you park it here anyway?”
“It’s hot as hell out here tonight, so I thought people would like to get in the back and cool off.”
“That’s fine, but my brother will be here soon and he won’t like the idea of you taking up so much space.” says Patrick. “Just pull it around to the side next to the church. There’s plenty of folks over there who need cooling off, ok?”
“No problem boss.” says the man as he gets back into his truck.
The driver turns the ignition without realizing that Joe has become a stowaway under the vehicle. Joe holds himself up firmly as the truck begins to move. He can see the ground moving under him from the corner of his eye. After a few minutes pass, the vehicle comes to a stop. He looks to his left to see the driver stepping out of the cab. Joe watches the man’s feet as he walks to the back of the truck. Once he is there, the man opens the back doors to the refrigerated compartment.
“Ok, everybody out.” orders the man. “Come on, you can’t hog up the air-conditioning to yourselves. Other people need to cool off too.”
Joe can hear people scampering above him, making sighs of frustration as they depart the vehicle. He quietly observes the small group of people form a circle and start chattering incoherently. They are only a few yards away from the truck, but Joe takes a chance and lowers himself onto the ground.
“Ok, now what?” thinks Joe as he scans the area.
Joe crawls on the ground until he reaches the side of the building, then makes his way around to the back of the church. He quickly takes cover behind a large garbage bin and searches the area for any onlookers.
“Come on.” whispers Joe. “There’s got to be a way into this place.”
Joe spies an artistically painted window on the church that is parallel to the ground. He slowly crawls toward that location hoping not to be noticed. Once there, he takes off his jacket and covers the window. He silently breaks the glass with the butt of the shotgun and proceeds inside.
“Ouch!” whispers Joe as he gets a cut on his hand while climbing into the building.
After he is inside, Joe looks searchingly all around the region to gain an understanding of his new whereabouts. Eventually, he comes to realize that he is in some kind of storage room. There are an excessive amount of cardboard boxes, all shapes and sizes. Joe maneuvers his way around the stacked boxes and finds a door at the east end of the room.
“Oh heck.” whispers Joe as he reloads the shotgun. “I wish Creed had left a spare bandoleer.”
After reloading the weapon, he opens the door slightly and takes a peek. He holds his breath as he investigates the dark hallway with his eyes and ears. He can sense no movement or detect any kind of sound. Joe steps out into the hallway silently peering around to see if anyone was near. He looks up to see some illumination coming from another decorative church window. He can see dust floating high within the streams of streetlights omitting from the glass. Joe then turns his attention to a set of stairs at the end of the hallway. Unable to find another way to go, he tip-toes quickly in that direction. When he makes it to the bottom step, he cautiously points his gun up and notices another door.
“I hope she’s up there.” whispers Joe as he glares upward, still aiming the gun.
Adrenaline flows through Joe’s body as he proceeds up the stairway. He treads up the stairs so quietly, that he can hear his own heartbeat. He can feel his legs quiver with each step he takes. His breath shutters as if he were in a very cold environment. His mouth becomes dry as he holds it open to prevent his teeth from chattering. The droplet of sweat that fell from his chin startled him when it hit the floor.
“Shit, shit, shit!” whispers Joe as he finally reaches the top step.
With his finger still on the trigger, Joe reaches with his other hand to grab the doorknob. It makes a gentle sound of grinding metal as he turns it slowly. When the door is ajar, Joe is able to hear silent chatter nearby. He looks around the immediate area to see if anyone was in the vicinity. Joe carefully makes his way through the door and finds that he is in an empty classroom. He peers at the many books filed neatly on wooden shelves surrounding the many small desks and chairs. Joe can barely see through the clouded glass window on a door leading out of the classroom.
“Where are those voices coming from?” thinks Joe as he treads silently toward the exit.
Joe was about to open the door when he heard two men approaching. He quickly ducks behind the teacher’s desk and takes aim with the shotgun. He can make out two figures on the other side of the door. Joe keeps his finger on the trigger as he watches the duo talking.
“Don’t come in here....please...” whispers Joe as he prepares to fire.
The two men continue chattering incoherently for a few moments, then walk away. Joe decides to wait for a few minutes, thinking that the strangers might come back. When enough time passes, Joe stands up and heads for the door. He gently opens it and proceeds out of the classroom. He steps out into another hallway with many doors resembling the one he passed through.
“I guess school’s out.” thinks Joe.
Joe stands there for a moment trying to decide which direction to take. At one end of the hallway is a set of stairs going up, while at the other end, an emergency exit.
“I’m not leaving,” whispers Joe as he chooses to take the stairs.
Joe tip-toes softly until he reaches the bottom step. He becomes startled when he sees a strange person covered in black, sitting in a wheelchair at the top of the stairs. He aims his gun at the mysterious individual searching for any signs of movement.
“What the hell?” says Joe quietly as he proceeds up the stairway.
The hooded stranger suddenly leaps out of the chair and glides in the air downward at Joe. The wheelchair explodes from the shotgun blast, fired by Joe and shreds the hooded man’s clothing. The gun is knocked away when the soaring dark man ferociously forearms Joe, knocking him down to floor. Before Joe has a chance to move, he has to gasp for breath when he is suddenly hoisted into the air by his throat. The hooded man roars monstrously as he holds firmly to Joe’s neck and slams him into a wall. Joe desperately tries to break the grip from around his throat as his body is flung from side to side, bashing through windows and crushing into doors. He manages to reach into his pocket and retrieve the switchblade. The dark man howls in pain when the knife is suddenly plunged deep into its forearm. Joe is viciously thrown into the air and slams violently into the emergency exit door. He lies there in anguish as he watches the strange individual pry the switchblade from its arm. He is forced to sit up quickly when the dark man propels the knife in his direction. The blade sticks into the door inches away from Joe’s head. Joe staggers a bit, but is able to get to his feet. The hooded man stands hunched over, scraping his fingernails on the floor, snarling like a bull ready to charge. Joe tries to open the emergency exit but finds that it is locked tightly. He quickly rips the duct tape from his leg and removes the machete.
“Ok you son of a bitch,” yells Joe as he stands ready with the weapon. “Let’s try this dance again!”
The dark man charges full force at Joe like a battering ram. Joe runs straight at his enemy, then leaps through a broken window and into one of the classrooms. The hooded man is unable to stop himself as he surpasses Joe and crashes through the emergency exit. Joe steps out into the hall and is able to see the dark man falling down a flight of stairs leading to the outside.
“Ole Motherfucker!” Hollers Joe as he quickly retrieves his shotgun.
Joe departs from the classroom and starts to head up the stairway again but is shocked when he sees Sean and his brother standing by the demolished wheelchair. He turns around and runs into a classroom not knowing that he is retracing his steps. Sean stays in pursuit of Joe as he heads back down the very same stairway. Once Joe reaches the bottom step, he realizes where he is.
“Oh no!” says Joe as he heads back to the storage room. “I’m going backwards!”
Joe makes his way to the window he had come through earlier and tries to climb out. The gun is dropped again when the hooded dark man suddenly appears outside the window and grabs Joe by his throat. The dark man growls in anguish when he feels the machete slashing at his arm. Panic sets in full force for Joe when he realizes that the wounds on the hooded man’s arm heal as quickly as they are afflicted. He begins to feel lightheaded as he dangles helplessly, gasping for air. His feet are unable to find ground as he desperately struggles to break the tightening grip from around his throat. His life flashes before his eyes when he hears someone approaching.
“You’re a dead man Mr. Conrad.” says Sean as he approaches Joe from behind.
Sean walks up, and palms the back of Joe’s head, squeezing it firmly.
“Don’t kill him Bro.” commands Patrick.
“Get out of here!” yells Sean. “He’s mine!”
“The Desolate wants him alive for now.” claimed Patrick. “Otherwise, he would have killed Mr. Conrad himself.”
“Bullshit!” yells Sean.
“Fine, then you tell him otherwise.”
Sean slowly lets go of Joe’s head and backs away. Joe continues to struggle from the grip of the person he now believes to be the Desolate. The hooded man squeezes his fingers around Joe’s neck tighter and tighter. Joe’s eyes roll back into his head and he eventually loses consciousness. The Desolate releases his grip and Joe drops to the ground.

August 7th 6:39 AM
Nightmares are known to be the strangest part of a human beings sleep pattern. It is believed that in some cases, a person suffering from sleep depravation can still have a bad dream. In other situations, an individual would have to be asleep for at least six hours before a dream cycle can begin. For the man having to relive the tragedy of losing his wife and son, the nightmare is just getting started.
“Oh God...No...Nooooo!” cries Joe as he lay on his back flailing his arms.
“Wake up!” shouts a young voice. “You’re having a bad dream!”
Joe awakens from his violent slumber after feeling someone slap his face. He opens his eyes to see the most wonderful sight he could possibly imagine.
“I knew you would come for me Daddy.” says Katie.
“Oh sweetie,” weeps Joe as he hugs his daughter. “Are you ok? Did they hurt you?”
“No, they didn’t hurt me.” responds Katie.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes sir, I’m fine.”
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“I know, I heard all about it.”
The reunited father and daughter embrace each other and cry tears of joy. They rock back and forth hoping never to release one another again. It is the moment Joe fought so hard to bring to life. It is a moment frozen in time. He gently pries out of the warm embrace and cradles his daughter’s face with his hands. He passively rubs away her tears with his thumbs. They look into each others eyes and share a tender moment of silence, then embrace each other again. Although this reunion is the most spectacular thing to happen to Joe since this nightmare began, he knows that this moment will not stay happy for very long.
“I will get you out of here.” says Joe as he whispers into Katie’s ear. “As God as my witness, I promise, I will get you out of here.”














Chapter 18



Resurrection


In medieval times many people were executed by being burned at the stake. Most of them were women accused of practicing witchcraft. People would argue that the most famous execution of this sort was the nineteen year old Joan of Arc back in the year 1431. To the rest of the world, this form of punishment is not as common as it was so long ago. As for the hell spawned population of Cherry Hills, this type of execution is not only common, it is demanded as a way to deal with criminals. People who commit crimes in this community are brought to the local junkyard where the punishment is carried out. For the woman who now faces this gruesome fate, stands accused of betrayal and heartbreak.

August 7th 4:40 PM
“Why did you help him Tiffany?” asked Patrick as he glares up at his fiancé. “Are you in love with him?”
“I helped him because he had a hand in getting rid of your father!” yells Tiffany.
Tiffany struggles to free herself from the ropes that keep her restrained to a steel post. She tearfully looks down at the chucks of wood which are soaked in gasoline, at her feet. She watches as Patrick picks up a pre-lit torch and walks over to her.
“I never would have let him kill you.” says Patrick.
“That still doesn’t change the fact that he murdered my entire bloodline!” hollers Tiffany as she weeps hysterically.
“Did you ever bother trying to figure out why he did that?” asked Patrick.
“I know why,” yells Tiffany, “to preserve our precious fucking community, right?”
“That’s right.” says Patrick. “But what you don’t understand is that every time someone from your family discovered the truth about Alex Slade, they would try to stop the Desolate from ever returning. My father knew that many of us would have died if anyone from your bloodline ever succeeded.”
“You’re full of shit!” screams Tiffany.
“It doesn’t really matter if you believe me or not.” states Patrick. “Joe Conrad came close to ruining the event because of you. That makes you a traitor.”
“What do you mean he ‘came close’?”
“It means his fate is in our hands now, “as is yours.”
Tiffany screams chaotically when Patrick throws the torch onto the flammable wood.
“You broke my heart baby.” Says Patrick as water forms in his eyes. “We could have been great together.”
Tears stream down Patrick’s face as he watches his fiancé go up in flames. He does an about-face and walks toward two men sitting in a parked van. They both step out of the vehicle when they see Patrick approaching.
“Let her cook for a while.” orders Patrick as he wipes away his tears and walks pass his two lackeys. “Make sure the fire doesn’t get too big. I don’t want the whole junkyard to go up in smoke.”
The two men do not say a word as Patrick enters the van and starts the engine.
“Get to the church as soon as you guys are done here.” says Patrick as he backs the van out into the street.

August 7th 7:51 PM
As Joe watches his daughter sleep soundly, he tries to come up with some kind of plan. He no longer has a weapon, and he fears that he may not be able to fend off whatever comes through the door. He is more concerned with the fact that his daughter has lost weight. She refused to eat most of the food that was served to her during her incarceration. Katie did not want to take a chance of possibly being poisoned or worse. She would only eat when her hunger pangs became unbearable. Joe is afraid because he knows that she suffers from malnutrition and dehydration. When Joe hears footsteps approaching, he decides that this is as good a time as any to help his daughter get the medical attention she needs.
“Fuck It!” yells Joe as he lunges at the person coming through the door.
“Sit down asshole!” says Sean as his fist collides with Joe’s head. “You almost made me drop this shit!”
The massive punch knocks Joe back into a wall, almost rendering him unconscious. Katie becomes startled when she wakes up to see the sheriff with an angry frown on his face. Sean enters the room holding a tray of food, while the Desolate stands close behind.
“You try that again, I’ll break your fucking neck!” threatens Sean.
Joe scoots on the floor toward Katie and sits next to her.
“I suggest you two eat, because this is your last meal.” says Sean as he lowers the tray to the floor.
Sean starts to leave the room, but is distracted by Joe’s voice.
“Wait a minute.” says Joe. “There’s something I just don’t understand.”
“What’s that dick head?”
“I thought the Desolate wasn’t supposed to be here until the 8th. How can he be here now?”
Sean develops an evil smile on his face and makes a snorting sound when he chuckles.
“The body he consumes now was prepared under very special circumstances.” says Sean.
“What do you mean?” asked Joe.
“He’ll explain it all to you when he’s able.”
“Why can’t he tell me now?” asked Joe.
“Look faggot,” snaps Sean. “I’m gonna answer your question, but don’t piss me off by asking another one! He controls the body, but the mind takes time to manifest.”
“Is that why he acts like a snarling beast?” asked Joe.
Sean’s eyes turn black as his face forms a look of rage. He springs forward and grabs Joe by the neck. Joe becomes forced up onto his feet and he begins gasping for air.
“What did I just say about the damn questions?” yells Sean as his grip becomes tighter.
At that moment, the Desolate raises his right arm and lets out a loud banshee type scream. Sean turns his head to see the Desolate’s hand making a gesture similar to a piece sign. His long yellow nails create a scraping sound as he rubs his fingers together. Sean releases Joe and turns to his master.
“Yes sire, it won’t happen again.” says Sean in a passive voice.
Joe massages his neck as he sits back down next to his daughter. Sean starts to walk out of the room and is again distracted by a voice.
“How’s it feel to be the Desolate’s bitch?” snaps Katie.
Sean begins clinching his fist, but does not turn around. He walks quickly out of the room and slams the door behind him.
“Good one sweetie.” says Joe with a smile.
“Thanks Dad.”

August 7th 11:32 PM
Joe is tired and his arms and legs are sore. For several hours, Joe rammed himself into the door over and over again, but was unable to break it down. He also tried kicking it repeatedly and was only successful at damaging the doorknob. When he finally collapsed from exhaustion, Katie embraced her father with a gentle hug. The two sat quietly, holding hands and glaring into each others eyes, praying for a miracle. Instead, they get an unwelcome visit from one of the three major figures behind the upcoming event.
“Hello Mr. Conrad.” says Patrick when he shoves the door open. “I was wondering when you would give up on this door. You’ve been banging away for some time now.”
Katie panics and begins crying hysterically as she shields herself behind her father.
“Oh don’t worry little lady.” says Patrick. “We don’t do that midnight thing like with other rituals. The event isn’t for quite a while, so stop crying, ok?”
Suddenly, the two men from the junkyard storm in and subdue Joe, forcing him against the wall. Katie tries to help her father, but is rendered unconscious when she is shot in the back with a tranquilizer gun.
“Nooo!” yells Joe as his daughter drops to the floor.
“Relax Mr. Conrad.” says Patrick. “It’s just something to help her sleep.”
“You motherfucker!” yells Joe angrily as he struggles with the two men.
Patrick lunges at Joe and grabs him under his chin. His eyes turn black as he squeezes Joe’s cheeks firmly.
“I suggest you cool it Mr. Conrad” says Patrick with anger in his voice. “I had to kill my fiancé because of you, so don’t mess with me!”
Joe’s eyes broaden when he realizes who Patrick is speaking of.
“That’s right, Tiffany’s dead!” states Patrick.
Patrick releases his grip from Joe’s face and presses the tranquilizer gun into his stomach.
“Turn him!” orders Patrick as he backs away.
Joe keeps a look of anger on his face, as the two men spin him around, forcing him to face the wall.
“There’s no reason for you to be alive at this point, Mr. Conrad.” says Patrick.
“Then why am I not dead?” asked Joe in a loud voice.
At that moment, Joe feels the tranquilizer dart hit the center of his back. As he begins losing consciousness, he can sense Patrick approaching him from behind.
“First you meet the master,” says Patrick as he whispers in Joe’s ear. “Then you meet your maker.”
“Nooo.....” whispers Joe as he blacks out.

August 8th Time: unknown
As Joe awakens, he is confused when he realizes that he is in the same room. He looks around for his daughter to see if she is there. He doesn’t find her, but is shocked to see the door standing wide open. Joe dizzily stands up and proceeds slowly toward the exit. His vision is blurry and his legs have a slight wobble as he walks. When he gets to the exit, he cautiously pokes his head out to see if anyone is nearby. He looks to his left to and sees nothing but a brick wall. To the right, is another long hallway, with only one door at the very end. Joe paces sluggishly down the hall, using the wall to brace himself up. The weariness he feels from the tranquilizer makes him have to shake his head vigorously to keep himself awake. When he finally reaches the door, he grabs the knob and drops to his knees. He struggles to breathe as he shakes his head again to prevent from passing out. With his hand still on the doorknob, he staggers back to his feet. Joe stands there for a moment, leaning against the door. After a few minutes pass, he turns the doorknob and enters into the next room. Joe stumbles into the next area, which just happens to be a kitchen. He almost fell over as he made his way to a sink. He gets to the sink and again drops to his knees. With as much strength as he can find, he lifts himself up, using the sink for balance. He turns on the faucet and sticks his head under the water. Joe inhales deeply when the water hits the back of his head.
“Oh man, that’s cold!”
Joe turns the faucet off and peers to his right to discover another door. He walks over to it and gently turns the doorknob. Once the door is opened, he finds yet another set of stairs heading up.
“How big is this place?” thought Joe as he begins to go up the stairway.
As he makes his way up the steps, his ears perk up when he hears static from a T.V. set in the distance. Joe is relieved that there is no door at the top of the stairway. Instead, there is a room with a very wide open space, containing many couches and chairs. At the center of this room is an extremely large floor model television set which is still turned on. Joe becomes irritated by the fact that the volume was turned way up. He walks up to the T.V. and was going to turn it off, when suddenly a news broadcast popped onto the screen.

This Program Was Recorded Earlier
“This is Stephanie Jackson reporting live for the channel 8's nightly news. Tonight, we bring you two heartbreaking tales of murders and suicides. Just this morning, police responded to a man complaining about a terrible odor coming from his neighbor’s home. What the police found, were three bodies, two men, and one female. Vincent and Cynthia Adams, and a man named Jason Cromwell, were all found dead from fatal gunshot wounds. The police believe that Vincent killed his wife and Jason when he discovered they were having an affair, then killed himself. Sheriff Sean Arlester was shocked when he learned of the incident.”
“Vincent was my best friend!” “I can’t believe he would do something like this! I’m ordering a full investigation on this because I just don’t buy it! I mean, this is bull-(bleep). I’m sorry, I can’t talk about this (bleep) anymore!”
“The sheriff is understandably upset and has declined any further comments at this time. In our second story tonight, Patrick Arlester, Sheriff Sean Arlester’s brother, was checked into a mental hospital and is now undergoing treatment for traumatic shock. Yesterday, Patrick witnessed his fiancé commit suicide by setting herself on fire. He tried to put out the blaze, but was unsuccessful because of the pool of gasoline she had spread all around herself. Patrick may have been killed himself if not for the two men that came to his aid. Patrick suffered minor burns on his arms and legs, but doctors say that he should heal from those wounds in no time. For channel 8 nightly news, this is Stephanie Jackson.”

Joe stares at the television and puts one of his hands over his mouth. He then walks away, shaking his head in disbelief.
“This is crazy.” whispers Joe. “They never mentioned the people that were killed at the fast food place.”
The T.V. suddenly shuts off on its own.
“That’s because their not dead.” says a mysterious voice.
Joe rotates his body and sees the Desolate sitting on a sofa in the far corner of the room. His body is still covered with the black robe and his identity remains hooded. Joe watches as he taps his long, yellow finger nails on a remote control.
“Who are you?” asked Joe. “I mean, whose body did you take?”
“We’ll get to that...” says the Desolate in an extremely deep voice. “First, I must tell you how this body was prepared.”
Joe considers running away, but he knows that the dark man would have no problem catching him. He also has a tremendous amount of curiosity for the mysterious identity of his enemy.
“Take a seat Mr. Conrad.” orders the Desolate.
Joe starts to sit down by the television set, but is startled by the deep toned voice.
“Over…… here.”
He walks steadily over to the couch across from the hooded man and sits down. Joe trembles in fear as he glares at the evil hands of the Desolate.
“Where’s my daughter?” asked Joe with a shaky voice.
“You’ll be with her soon enough.”
“What... do you want.... with me?” stutters Joe.
“I want you to accept my humble apology. I was hoping to have met your wife but my son saw fit to kill her.”
“Your son,” says Joe. “Then you’re in Louis Arlester’s body?”
Joe becomes slightly shaken when the Desolate suddenly crushes the remote control with one hand and drops it onto the floor. There is complete silence for a few moments, as Joe stares horrified at his opponent.
“Do you accept my apology?”
Joe swallows hard and clears his throat.
“Y..yes....of coarse I do.” stutters Joe.
“Good......And to answer your question, this is not the body of Louis Arlester. This body was prepared for me by one of my younger children. She, unfortunately; is no longer with us.”
“Who.... are you... speaking of?” falters Joe.
“Her name was Francis Peterson.”
Joe’s forms a frown on his face and his body develops a heavy shiver, when a startling revelation begins to unravel. He had a suspicion all along about the identity of the Desolate, but until now, he chose not to believe it.
“It can’t be!” says Joe as he begins to sob. “It just can’t be!”
“You’re smarter then I thought Mr. Conrad.” states the Desolate as he raises his hands to his hood.
“Oh God No!” yells Joe when the Desolate uncovers his face. “I was hoping to be wrong!”
“How did you find out?” asked the dark man.
Joe weeps uncontrollably and he covers his face with his hands.
“In the cave.....I found a list.....’The Desolate Consumption.” cried Joe.
“I see, and does it hurt you to see this face?”
“What the fuck do you think?” storms Joe. “Francis gave him one of the potions while he was in a coma, didn’t she?”
“That’s right Mr. Conrad.”
“Then they stitched his head back on so that you could be reborn, right?” asked Joe in an angry voice.
“No, I put it back on myself.”
Joe gets up and lets out a war cry as he lunges at the Desolate. He is stopped abruptly when the Desolate grabs him by the throat. Joe suddenly feels a sting in his back from another tranquilizer dart.
“Not too bright Mr. Conrad.” says Patrick as he stands close-by.
The Desolate does not let go of his throat as he stands up and pulls Joe close to his face.
“You’re not my Frankie!” Whispers Joe as he loses consciousness. “You’re just borrowing his body!”








Chapter 19

The Event


Crucifixion is arguably, one of the cruelest punishments a human being can endure. In some cases, the victim is severely tortured, before eventually dying from a massive amount of blood loss. For the most part, an individual is nailed to a cross and left behind to die of starvation and/or dehydration. For the thirty-one people who are now experiencing this nightmare, are wishing they had chosen a different fast food restaurant on the morning of August 3rd. They all suffer in anguish, as they bleed through the nails that were driven into their wrists and ankles. Most of them cry out heavy prayers as their bodies stay attached to crosses surrounding the entire inside of the church. Others watch in awe as the hell spawns of Cherry Hills welcome two more unwilling participants into the church of agony. Joe cringes in pain on a cross being carried toward the podium, while Katie sits unconscious, in a new wheelchair being pushed up to a table, which is set up like a chemistry lab. The pews are filled with demonic, black eye balled, murmuring citizens, waiting for the event to begin. Joe has no idea how much time has passed, but he does know that regardless of the circumstances, there is just one more card to play.
“Prepare the child!” shouts the Desolate.
Patrick inserts a long transparent tube into Katie’s arm. In a matter of seconds, blood runs through the tube into a clear bag. As the blood continues to flow, the Desolate approaches Joe and stands in front of him.
“You are truly a remarkable human being Mr. Conrad.”
Joe stares into the demonic eyes of the creature that was once his son. Tears come down his cheeks as the Desolate smiles evilly. He brings up as much mucus into his throat as he can and spits directly into the Desolate’s face.
“You shouldn’t do things like that!” says the Desolate as he gives Joe a backhand. “You will only make your death all the more painful!”
Joe lets out an agonizing outcry when he feels the painful sensation of the Desolate’s fingernail digging into his stomach.
“Sire?” says Sean as he approaches his master. “I have them ready for you on the table!”
The Desolate removes his fingernail from Joe’s stomach and walks over to a glass container on the table, filled with human eyes. Joe’s head dangles when he feels a dizzy spell which almost causes him to faint.
“Hey, wake the fuck up!” yells Sean as he gives Joe a slap to the face. “Don’t you wanna see how the first potion is made?”
Joe lifts his head and is horrified when he realizes that many of the other crucified people no longer have eyes.
“You took out their eyes?” asked Joe.
“Not all of them...” snickers Sean. ‘Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed your blade.”
Joe turns his attention to the dark man and notices him holding the machete. He watches the Desolate dig a large gash into his forearm and lets the blood drip out onto the eyes. The eyeballs dissolve quickly as they become liquefied with the dark man’s blood.
“And that’s all there is to It.” says Sean as he chuckles loudly.
Sean looks down at Joe’s feet and forms a look of confusion on his face, then turns his attention to his brother.
“Hey Patrick?” asked Sean. “Why does he have duct tape around his ankles?”
“I ran out of nails bro.” responds Patrick. “Got his wrists didn’t I?”
Patrick walks over to the table and begins filling small vials with the newly created first potion. As he works, he looks to his left and notices that Katie’s blood has filled the bag. He hurries over to her and undoes the tube from her arm.
“Sire?” says Patrick excitedly. “The blood is ready!”
“Now comes the good part!” states Sean as he grabs the hair in back of Joe’s head. “Look at my master work!”
The Desolate picks up the bag and empties it into another glass container. He then digs his yellow fingernails into his own face and pulls out one of his eyes, then drops it into the blood. Joe is stunned and his mouth hangs open, as he watches the Desolate’s new eye grow back in place.
“Patrick!” yells Sean. “Start making the second potion now! You know I need it!”
As Patrick begins preparing the second potion, Sean turns his attention to the noisy crucified people all around him.
“Shut up ass heads!” hollers Sean as he rotates his body. “You’ll have the potion you need to get yours eyes back, but not until I get mine, so shut the fuck up!”
“Sorry sheriff!” says Joe as he looks out of one of the church windows. “But you won’t have a chance to drink that shit!”
Sean peers out of the same window, wondering what has Joe’s attention, then develops a look of puzzlement on his face.
“What the fuck are you babbling about now?” storms Sean.
“I can only assume it’s around ten, because of how dark it is.” responds Joe with a wicked grin on his face. “It should happen any second now.”
Sean transforms demonically as he walks forcefully up to Joe and grabs him by the throat.
“Are you trying to test me?” asked Sean in an angry voice. “I asked you a question! What are you talking about?”
“Well,” says Joe as his eyes become wider and wider. “Let’s just say that you should’ve let the meat guy park out front!”
At that moment, Sean falls to the floor when a huge explosion turns the inner church walls into debris, flying in all directions. Many of the hell spawns jump up from the pews but cannot escape as large chunks of the ceiling collapse onto them. Visibility is impossible when the entire area becomes engulfed in smoke. Joe suddenly hears his father’s voice roam through his mind.
“You’re gonna stay up there forever unless you break that fucking board! Do you understand me?” echoes Joe Sr.
“Yes sir!” hollers Joe. “I understand!”

As the smoke clears, Sean roars barbarically as he picks himself up from the floor.
“What the fuck is going on!” yells Sean he collars his brother.
“He must have planted a bomb in the meat truck outside!” says Patrick as he points out the destroyed vehicle.
“Where could he have gotten a bomb?” storms Sean.
“Why don’t you let go of me and ask him!” yells Patrick as he shoves his brother.
Sean growls as he turns around and discovers the broken pieces of wood that once restrained Joe.
“How did he......?” asked Sean as he notices the empty wheelchair near the church entrance. “That son of a bitch!”
Patrick kneels in front of the Desolate’s seemingly unconscious body, while Sean and the remainder of hell spawns run out of the church in search of Joe and Katie.
“All of you!” orders Sean as he stomps outside. “Search everywhere, they couldn’t have gone far!”



August 8th Time: Unknown
While the rest of the evil creatures of Cherry Hills search outside of the church, Joe carries his unconscious daughter down a back stairway, leading to a storage room. Once there, he gently lowers her to the floor and frantically tries to revive her.
“She’s breathing.” says Joe as he checks her airways. “Thank God.”
Joe lightly slaps his daughter’s cheek repeatedly for a few seconds. When she finally wakes up, Joe has to cover her mouth with his hand to prevent her from screaming.
“Shhhh!” whispers Joe as he tries to calm his daughter. “It’s me!”
When the child realizes who it is, she gives him a warm embrace.
“Come on sweetie!” whispers Joe. “We’re going out the way I came in!”
Katie speedily gets to her feet and goes with her father to the small broken window. He then vaults her up high enough for her to climb out of the view port. Once Katie is outside, she kneels, looking into the opening and views Joe shuffling through many boxes.
“Dad!” whispers Katie. “What are you doing? Let’s get out of here!”
“Found it!” says Joe as he retrieves his shotgun.
Joe throws the weapon out of the window and climbs out after it. Without hesitation, Joe takes Katie by the hand and away from the church. They can hear chaos and confusion from their enemies in the distance as they scurry away.
“We’ll be fine once we reach mommy’s minivan!” says Joe as they disappear into the night.

August 8th Time: Unknown
“Oh Dad,” says Katie as they enter a cemetery. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“I know it’s scary,” says Joe. “But it’s the only way to get to the van without being seen.”
“A graveyard?” asked Katie.
“They call it the ‘Desolate Garden’.” says Joe as they make their way to the tunnel entrance.
Joe begins to lower his daughter into the hole, but is forced to pull her back up when she suddenly screams.
“What’s wrong sweetie!” says Joe excitedly.
“Who’s that?” asked Katie as she points out a dead body with a headstone covering its face.
“Oh, that’s just Ronnie.” answers Joe with a slight grin on his face. “Don’t worry, he can’t hurt you.”
After some time passes, the father and daughter finally enter the tunnel. Katie cringes as she tries to step over Ronnie’s body.
“Isn’t it bad luck to step over dead bodies Dad?” asked Katie.
“Do you want to not step over it and stay here?”
“I see your point...” responds Katie as she jumps over the deceased man.
As they begin entering the long walkway, Katie hugs herself when she starts to shiver from the coldness of the burrow.
“Dad, it’s cold in here.”
“I know sweetie. Here, put this on.” says Joe as he removes his shirt. “Now let’s get moving. We got a lot of space to cover.”

August 8th Time: Unknown
“Sheriff,” says a patrolman. “We’ve been searching the town for hours.”
“I don’t give a damn!” steams Sean. “I want every rock flipped over in Cherry Hills, got it!”
“Yes sir.”
Sean scans over the destruction of the church caused by the mysterious bomb. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone. As he begins to punch in a number, a man angrily walks up to him, yelling and swearing.
“That son of a bitch blew up my truck!”
“Shut up, I’m trying to call somebody!” hollers Sean as he holds the phone to his ear. “Come on Kevin, pick up the damn phone!”
“Kevin?” says the man. “That guy’s dead.”
“What?” says Sean as he turns off the phone. “What are talking about?”
“You mean you don’t know?” asked the man.
“Obviously not dickhead!” storms Sean. “What makes you think he’s dead?”
“Somebody blew his head off at the carnival.” states the man. “Some people found him over there.”
Sean peers over at the carnival and spots his Shrek mobile setting among the bumper cars. He tosses his cell phone aside and runs over to his patrol car. Once there, he gets into the vehicle and grabs a walkie-talkie.
“Alright, everybody, listen up!” yells Sean as he speaks into the communicator. “I want every cop in Cherry Hills to go where I tell you in twenty minutes! I got a plan!”



August 8th Time: Unknown
“How....Much...Longer….Do….We...Have to be...down here...Dad?” asked Katie as she shudders from the cold.
“Look there.” says Joe as he points out a small ladder leading up to an access panel. “We’re going up through there.”
When the ladder is reached, Joe climbs up first and pushes up on the metal lid. Once it is opened, Joe drops back down and helps his daughter up the ladder.
“Come on Dad!” says Katie as she climbs out.
After they are out of the hole, Katie looks around confusingly trying to understand her new surroundings.
“What is this place?” asked Katie.
“Carlo’s Auto Shop.” responds Joe.
“So where’s Carlo?”
“See that pile of dust over there?”
“Very funny Dad.”
Joe again takes his daughter by the hand and leads her out of the auto shop. When they get outside, Joe scans the area to see if anyone is in the vicinity.
“Ok sweetie.” says Joe. “We have to make it to the van. It’s just two blocks away near the school.”
“Why did you park it there?” asked Katie.
“I had to take out the bomb first and I didn’t want anybody to see me.”
“Bomb, what bomb?”
“Long story, I’ll tell you later.”
The pair treads carefully down the street toward the minivan. Sometimes they have to hide behind parked cars or trees to avoid possible detection. Once they reach the van, they quickly enter the vehicle and put on their seatbelts.
“Sweetie?” says Joe as he starts the engine. “Do me a favor and get in the backseat.”
“How come?” asked Katie.
“I don’t know how big the explosion will be once we get to the town’s entrance. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“What explosion?
“I put some dynamite on those big doors.” says Joe as he begins to drive. “I’m not sure how I’ll be able to light them, but if I do, I want you to keep your head down, ok?”
“Yes sir.”
As Joe drives the minivan, a strange feeling comes over him. It occurred to him that the streets seemed to be more quiet then usual. Joe’s ears perk up to the sounds of police sirens in the distance. He looks into the rearview mirror and spots flashing lights.
“Oh shit!” yells Joe when he sees cop cars coming up from behind. “Katie, get your head down and stay down!”
Joe presses down hard on the gas as the cops try to ram the side of the minivan. The passenger side window suddenly explodes from a shotgun blast. Joe yells out when he feels the buckshot submerge into the right side of his head. He picks up his own weapon and tries to aim it with one hand. When the officer to Joe’s right sees the weapon pointed at him, he stomps on the brake. Joe makes a sharp left turn and drives over a series of parking meters. One of the meters flies up and puts a large crack in the windshield. Coins scatter all over the front of the vehicle as he drives on.
“Shit!” “Oh shit!” yells Joe as he tries to regain control of the minivan.
Katie lies down on the seat, hugging her head and screams when she hears gunshots ring out. Another cop car makes its way to the side of the minivan and begins slamming into it. Joe is forced off the side of the road and destroys a white picket fence. He tries desperately to steer the van back into the street as he plows through a well-kept lawn.
“Turn damn it!” hollers Joe as he wrecks more of the fence.
When he is finally able to get back onto the street, he rams the side of the cop car forcing the driver to lose control of the steering and collide into the back of a parked car. The minivan suddenly becomes riddled with bullets when it reaches a cross section with police cars waiting on each side. Joe keeps his head down as he speeds forward pass the crossfire and toward a police barricade. Several officers stand motionless in front of the barricade as they empty their weapons into the front of the van. Joe drives blindly when a bullet ruptures something under the hood of the vehicle, causing a heavy amount of steam and smoke to cover the windshield.
“Aaaahh!” “You motherfuckers!” screams Joe as he presses the gas peddle harder to the floor.
The policemen dive out of the way just as the van breaks through the barricade. Katie peers out the back window and sees one officer run back out into the street and take aim with a shotgun. She screams when the back window shatters from the blast of the weapon. The smoke and steam dies done a bit, allowing Joe to see the town’s entrance in the distance.
“We’re almost there sweetie,” says Joe excitedly, “sweetie?”
Joe peers into the backseat and becomes horrified when he realizes that his daughter is not moving.
“Oh no, Oh God, please no!”
He was so distraught, that he almost did not realize his foot was coming off the gas. When he felt the van slowing down, he quickly regained his momentum and began concentrating on the road. Joe’s eyes widen, as he is suddenly forced to stomp on the brake. At the town’s entrance, stands Sean holding a 9MM handgun and a bottle of vodka. Police cars surround the minivan at a safe distance and the officers rapidly get out with their weapons drawn. Joe rolls up the partially damaged driver’s side window and lays his head back on the seat. His breathing becomes erratic as he watches Sean smiling devilishly.
“I suggest you step out of the vehicle Mr. Conrad!” yells Sean with a loud demonic voice.
Joe opens the chamber to his shotgun and realizes that there is only has one shell left. He closes the chamber and opens the driver’s side door. Joe slides the weapon across the seat toward him as he slowly steps out of the van. He stands shielding himself behind the open driver’s side door.
“It was a nice try Mr. Conrad,” says Sean as he approaches the vehicle. “But it’s over now.”
Joe looks around at all the policemen with their weapons aimed, then turns his attention back to Sean.
“You know, I can understand why you have dynamite for the doors.” states Sean as his voice becomes normal. “But what the hell is the vodka for?”
“Why don’t you take a swig?” asked Joe in a sarcastic manner.
“Don’t mind if I do...” says Sean as he removes the cap and puts the open bottle to his lips. When the liquid from the bottle touches Sean’s tongue, tension begins to fill his body when he realizes that what he tastes is not vodka. As quick as a flash, Joe aims the shotgun and blast through the driver’s side window and shattering the bottle in Sean’s mouth. The kerosene filled vodka bottle ignites and covers Sean’s face with flames. Sean falls backward into the large doors and inadvertently lights the fuse to the dynamite with his flaming head. The officers start shooting at Joe as he scrambles to renter the van. He yells out in pain when he feels a bullet lodge into his left leg. Once he is inside the vehicle, he stomps on the gas and propels forward. The policemen take cover when the dynamite detonates, exploding with tremendous force, causing the huge doors to almost disintegrate. The shockwave hits Sean square in the back, sending him into the air and onto the hood of the minivan. Joe stomps on the brake again, forcing Sean to plummet to the ground. He steps on the gas and runs over Sean without stopping.
“Told you I was gonna shoot you in the mouth!” yells Joe as he speeds away and out of Cherry Hills.
Sean stands his broken body up and howls loudly from his deformed mouth.
“Galla gallaa aga, glurp!” says Sean as he tries to form words, even though elongated pieces of flesh dangle his jawbone down to his chest.
“It’s alright Sean.”
Sean’s jaw sways from side to side as he spins around to see the Desolate hovering only inches above the earth. Patrick, the remaining survivors of the church bombing, as well as the police officers, all begin forming a circle around their master. Sean walks over to the Desolate and kneels before him.
“I ffff....aaill..led sire.” says Sean as his jaw reconnects with his face.
“I said it’s alright Sean, now stand up my son.” says the Desolate in a passively deep voice.
Sean gets to his feet and peers at the people standing all around, then becomes startled by his master’s voice.
“We don’t need him or his daughter any longer.” states the Desolate with a warm smile on his face.
“But master, how will you feast now?” asked Sean.
Sean jerks his head to the right when he feels his brother’s hand rest on his shoulder.
“Well,” responds Patrick. “We don’t need you either bro.”
Before Sean can conjure up a single thought, his eyes broaden when he feels a sudden sharp pain. He looks down to see the Desolate’s hand pulling his heart from his chest. Sean’s eyes roll back into his head as he drops to the ground.
“What shall we do now master?” asked Patrick.
The Desolate made loud slurping sounds as he quickly shoves the heart into his mouth and devours it before it was able to stop beating.
“We must make preparations.” responds the Desolate as blood runs down his chin. “We must preserve our way of life.”
The two evil rulers of Cherry Hills turn and hover down the street back into town. The hell spawns form long lines on both sides of the street and kneel as their masters pass them by.


August 8th 6:35 AM
In the near future, on a hot stormy morning in Kremlin City, Wyoming a minivan slowly comes to a stop.







Chapter 20


Family Traditions

August 16th 12:00 PM

“Well,” says Agent Hughes. “That’s a heck of a story.”
“You don’t believe a word of it, do you?” asked Joe with a mono-toned voice.
The agent stands up and walks to the far end of the interrogation room. He stares into the large mirror with a look of pity on his face and winks his eye. A man sitting alone on the other side of the glass stops an audio tape from recording and leaves the room. Hughes then begins to shake his head in disbelief as he walks back over to Joe.
“I’ve been in law enforcement for fifteen years Joe.” states the agent. “I know a liar when I see one.”
“So you believe me?”
“Not so fast.” says Hughes. “Like I said, fifteen years of law enforcement and....”
“And you can spot a liar, what’s your point?” interrupts Joe.
The agent sits down and folds his hands.
“I also know what to look for when a person suffers from traumatic shock.”
“And?” asked Joe.
“I don’t doubt that you saw the things you did,” continues Hughes “I just think you may have suffered mentally after witnessing the death of your wife and son.”
“Oh give me a fucking break with this shit!” yells Joe as he slams his fist down onto the table.
“What else am I supposed to think Joe?”
“Why would I come in here to make up a story like that?”
“I didn’t say you did.” responds Hughes. “I’m just not able to accept your story without at least considering that you may have suffered from some kind of mental breakdown.”
“Oh this is bullshit!” storms Joe while flailing his arms in frustration.
“Alright, that’s enough!” snaps the agent.
Hughes stands up and drags his chair over to the other side of the table and sets it next to Joe. Joe leers to his left as Hughes sits down close to him.
“Look,” says the agent as he folds his hands with one of his index fingers pointing up. “I’ve got a real screwed up reputation around here. My associates think I’m a pushover and a softy. Why? Because I actually try to solve crimes by presenting the facts, as opposed to some of my peers who choose to close cases based on their assumptions. So, unless you have some kind of proof that backs up your story, I’m gonna have you committed to a mental ward for a complete psychiatric evaluation.”
Joe stares off into space for a few minutes, then takes his right hand and shoves it down the back of his pants. He leans forward as he wrestles with something stuck between him and the wheelchair he sits in. The agent looks on confusingly, wondering what Joe is trying to do.
“Are you trying to reach an itch?” asked Hughes.
“No you jerk, I thought you’d like to see this.” says Joe as he pulls out a potato sack and sets it down on the table.
“You’ve been sitting on this the whole time?” asked Hughes.
“Yeah, I was hoping to keep that, but you said you needed proof.”
The agent looks at the bag and notices dried blood caked on one side of it.
“And this is what you used to kill the grave keeper?”
“That’s right.” Responds Joe
“So if your story is true, then I’m going to look in this bag and......”
“Will you just look in the fucking bag!” says Joe impatiently, as he rolls his eyes, leans forward, and gently bumps his forehead on the table.
Hughes opens the bag and becomes shocked to find a large bar of gold bullion. The agent’s mouth hangs open as he peers intensely at Joe.
“Something wrong Agent Hughes?” asked Joe with a sneaky smile on his face.
At that moment, another agent opens the door and comes into the room.
“Excuse me sir, but the young lady called from the hospital and she’s asking to see her father.”
“Uumm ... ok.” stutters Hughes. “How is she?”
“The doctor’s say it was some kind of a miracle.” Responds the nameless agent “They say the amount of buckshot they took out of her head should have killed her, but the wounds healed so well, she doesn’t even have scars.”
Hughes eyes are open hugely as he scratches his temple.
“Ok, do me a favor and arrange transportation for Mr. Conrad to be with his daughter.”
“Yes sir.” Says the agent as he makes his departure
Joe sits with his elbow on the table and rest his cheek on the palm of his hand. Hughes is speechless as he continues to allow his mouth to hang open.
“You better shut your mouth or a bug might land on your tongue.” says Joe jokingly.
Hughes closes his mouth and swallows hard.
“You said that guy Creed left behind some potions for you.” says Hughes. “What did you do with them?”
“No comment...” responds Joe
“You gave one of them to your daughter didn’t you?” asked the agent.
“No comment...” says Joe with a voice becoming more silent
“The doctors said that you were in pretty bad shape, almost died on the operating table. With amount of blood you lost, they say there is no way you should have survived. You took the other potion didn’t you?”
“No......comment.....agent…. Hughes....”whispers Joe as he begins wheeling himself to the door. “This damn chair needs batteries.”
All of a sudden, Agent Hughes jumps up and steps in front of Joe. He rips the bandages from Joe’s head and discovers no wounds at all.
“Oops,” says Joe, “Now what?”
“Now, I wake up in the twilight zone.” Responds Hughes
When the agent hears someone approaching, he quickly slaps the dressing back onto Joe’s head. Hughes turns around just as the agent returns to the room.
“I got a car ready for Mr. Conrad.” states the official before developing a look of confusion on his face as he peers at Hughes’s bizarre face expression. “Is there a problem sir?”
“No, no problem.” responds Hughes. “Listen; get a hold of the police department in Cherry Hills. I want permission to come there and look around.”
“I’ll get right on it sir.” says the agent as he holds open the door for Joe.
Agent Hughes moves himself out of the way allowing Joe to go through the exit.
“Take care of yourself Mr. Conrad.” says Hughes.
“Joe.”
“What’s that?” asked Hughes.
“Call me Joe.”


August 16th 4:00 PM
Agent Hughes sits in a vehicle in front of the entrance to Cherry Hills. He was hoping for another surprise, but was disappointed when he peered up at the large doors. Joe told him that the entrance had been destroyed with dynamite. Instead, the fifty foot high doors stand tall without a mark on them. Now Hughes must wait for the Cherry Hills authorities to allow him and his fellow agents to enter the complex.
“Who’s supposed to be meeting us here?” asked Hughes as he impatiently waits in a Chevy blazer with his partner.
“He’s says he’s the sheriff of Cherry Hills, a Mr. Sean Arlester.”
“Well, where the heck is he already?” storms Hughes. “Wait a second...what was that name?”
“Sean Arlester sir.”
“No kidding...” says Hughes. “Joe got the name right.”
“Well, I don’t know about the whole black eyeball thing sir, but we can’t go into this place without the sheriff.”
“I know that.” states Hughes. “It’s just that I have fifteen agents waiting behind us and half of them don’t like me.”
“Oh come on,” snickers the partner. “We all like you, even though you tend to act like a punk once in a while.”
“Fuuuuck you”
Hughes’s partner forms a look of shock on his face.
“I’ve never heard you cuss before sir.”
“I never have before,” says Hughes. “I just wanted to try it and see how it felt.”
“OK, so how did it feel?”
“Well, to be perfectly honest with you, it felt pretty fucking good.”
The two agent’s conversation is interrupted when a patrol car approaches from a distance. The car slows down and does a u-turn after it passes the FBI vehicles. The sheriff eventually comes to a stop next to Agent Hughes truck. A chubby man with glasses rolls down his window and waves to the two men.
“Now does that look like a muscle bond, black eye-balled, psychotic sheriff to you?” asked the partner as he rolls down his window.
“Excuse me gentlemen,” says the sheriff. “You wouldn’t happen to be FBI, would you?”
“Yes we are, I’m Special Agent Hughes and this is my partner, Agent Carter.”
“I’m Sheriff Arlester. Nice to meet you guys, but what are you doing here?” asked the sheriff. “I thought you were coming to Cherry Hills.”
The two agents look at each other confusingly, then return their attention to the sheriff.
“Umm, we thought Cherry Hills was behind these big doors here.” states Carter.
“Nope,” says the sheriff. “Cherry Hills is about a mile back. That’s where I was headed when I saw you boys sitting here.”
“Well, then what’s this place?” asked Carter.
“Folks call it ‘The Desolate’s Playground.” responds the sheriff. “This place was deserted back in 1809. It’s considered a landmark territory that the government refuses to tear down.”
Carter and Hughes shockingly look at each other with their mouths hanging open.
“There’s a legend about it.” says the sheriff with a slight chuckle.
“Legend?” asked Carter.
“Yeah, some people believe that it was once a stomping ground for witches and devil worshipers. No one wants to live in there because they think it’s cursed. Now it’s just a ghost town for tourist and fanatics who believe in that ‘Blair Witch’ bullshit. They come through about once a year and actually pay to get in. Can you believe it?”
“Do you believe that sheriff?” asked Hughes.
“Ha, no, no way.” laughs the sheriff. “It’s just a waste of space if you ask me, but I have no problem taking the tourist money.”
Agent Hughes steps out of the vehicle and walks around to the side of the sheriff’s car. He leans over and places his hands on the driver’s side door.
“Any chance we can get in there sheriff?” asked Hughes.
“You’re in luck,” responds the sheriff. “It’s my turn to be a tour guide this year. Follow me.”
The sheriff gets out of his car and walks toward the large doors. Carter and the other fifteen agents step out of their vehicles as well. The sheriff locates a box with buttons on the wall next to the doors and begins pushing in a numbered sequence.
“What’s this?” asked Hughes.
“I’m turning off the alarm.” responds the sheriff. “You’d be surprised how many times people try breaking into this place.”
Once the sheriff completes the sequence, the doors make a humming sound as they open.
“Well, I guess I’ll give guys the grand tour.” says the sheriff. “That’ll be ten bucks a head.”
“What?” Asks agent Carter
“I don’t give tours for free. Ten bucks a head, lets go, come on.”
Agent Carter reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small wad of cash.
“How about I give you five bucks and I won’t arrest you for interfering with an FBI investigation?” asked Carter as he dangles five singles in front of the sheriff’s face.
“How about I take that five and go home?” says the sheriff sarcastically as he snatches the money. “You can take your own tour.”
“Good idea.” states Carter as he watches the portly sheriff walk back to his patrol car. “I can’t believe I gave that guy five bucks.”
“Come on, it was money well spent.” says one of the agents.
Other agents begin a brief chuckle until the laughter was cut short by their boss.
“Ok guys,” orders Hughes. “I want this whole place searched well. Look for anything strange.”
August 16th 6:27 PM
Agent Hughes stands alone inside an old cemetery and scans the area for any evidence to Joe’s story. The only thing that seems out of place is a grave site filled with cement. Hughes squats in front of the location and scrapes his fingernail on the hardened residue. He stands up and caresses his index finger with his thumb. It feels chalky to the touch.
“Hey boss!” says Carter as he approaches his partner.
“What do you got?” asked Hughes.
“To be honest with you, I’m staring to think Mr. Conrad may be a little wacky. Like the sheriff said, this place is a ghost town.”
“What about the bridge?” asked Hughes.
“We haven’t found any sign that there ever was one. The bridge Mr. Conrad described couldn’t have just vanished without a trace. I’m telling you boss, this is a waste of....”
“Look at that.” interrupts Hughes as he points to the cement filled hole. “Doesn’t that look a little too fresh for a ghost town?”
“Yeah, I guess, but there’s a lot of that around here.”
“What do you mean?” asked Hughes.
“Most of the locations Mr. Conrad mentioned in his statement are areas filled with cement like this or secured with locks. Its probably just security measures by the sheriff to keep the tourist from having some kind of accident, or.....”
“Or what?” asked Hughes.
“Maybe Joe flipped out, chopped up his family and stuffed the body parts into the cement.”
“Maybe.” states Hughes.
“Boss?” asks Carter. “Why do you seem so eager to find something that will help Joe’s story? I’m surprised you haven’t had him committed already.”
“Look, I know his story’s a little jacked up, but.....”
“It’s a lot jacked up boss.” Says Carter
“But that still doesn’t explain why he and his daughter were found almost dead in a vehicle covered with bullet holes.”
Agent Carter lowers his head, closes his eyes and gently massages the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“You have a point boss.” says Carter.
“You said ‘most’ of the locations Joe mentioned?”
“Yeah, we haven’t checked the church yet.” Says Carter
“Let’s go.”

August 16th 6:45 PM
The agents search high and low for anything strange that would help corroborate Joe’s story. So far nothing seems out of place. Joe claimed that a bomb was planted in his wife’s minivan and that he used that bomb to blow up the meat truck along with part of the church. Unfortunately, the damage from the explosion Joe had described was non-existent. Agent Hughes locates a very large empty room that leads to a stairway. He makes his way down the steps and enters a kitchen. He walks through the kitchen and finds a door leading to another long hallway. Hughes walks down the hallway, until he stops at a brick wall. To his left is a door secured tightly with a padlock.
“Oh the hell with It.” says Hughes as he pulls out his gun.
Hughes shoots the lock off and kicks open the door. The agent enters the small ten-by-ten room, with no windows and peers down. He can see a large rectangular shaped clean spot on the floor.
“Oh boy,” whispers Hughes as the hair on his neck stands up.
As he focuses on the floor, he can hear a very faint sound that reminds him of the mice infestation he once had in the attic of his own home. He turns around and discovers the source of that sound omitting from a toilet bowl covered with scampering insects.
“Hmmm, friendly bugs?” thinks Hughes.
He walks over to the roach invested area and looks down into the toilet. His eyes become narrow when a reflection of light in the murky toilet water catches his attention. Hughes’s hand becomes wet when he sticks it down into the toilet water and pulls out a mysterious item. As he holds it in the palm of his hand, his eyes become intensively wide and a frown develops wrinkles on his forehead. At that moment, Carter and two other agents enter the room with weapons drawn.
“We heard a shot!” exclaims Carter. “What happened?”
“It was me fellas, sorry about that.” Says Hughes as he grasps the item in his fist. “Gentlemen, I want you to get to Joe and his daughter right now! I want them under twenty-four hour protection!”
“What’s up boss?” asked Carter.
“Just do it!” says Hughes in a loud voice. “I’ll explain everything later, now go!”
The three agents rush off to do their duty, leaving their boss behind. Agent Hughes forms a look of shock on his face as he re-opens his hand and stares at the item. It is a bracelet that he holds with something inscribed on it. The inscription read only one word.........only one name........ “Katie”

The End?







The Lord is my Shepard; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
Psalms- Chapter 23



In Loving Memory of:
Mildred Josephine Williams
1941- 1998

(I did it Mom, I hope I finally made you happy)

Special Thanks:

My Roommates: My Favorite Teachers: My Favorite Writers:
Jay Mr. Swanson Sandra Brown
JoAnn Mrs. Dobson Bill Roorbach
And “Little Bit” the dog Mrs. Hart Stan Lee
Mr. Meyers (N.J.) Shane Black

Very Special Thanks To:
God: The Father
Jesus: My Lord and Savior
My Dad: Louis Williams Sr.
My Brother: Louis Williams Jr.
Timothy Hutton- (for doing “The Dark Half”)
Neve Campbell- (for doing "Last Call”)