Showdown (14 page)

Roland slapped the boards. “There's nothing here, man. That's freaky. What's the world coming to?”

“Good question. You notice anything strange around here today?”

“Yeah, Fred and Peter.”

“Not just Fred and Peter. You have any nightmares last night?”

That caught Roland off guard. “What do you mean, nightmares?”

“I mean did you dream about Black?”

“What makes you say that?”

Johnny shrugged. “I did.”

“So did I.”

“You ever see clouds like that this time of year?” Johnny asked, looking up. Flat clouds hung abnormally low, like someone had painted the sky dark gray just above the town.

Roland's gaze followed Johnny's. “Yeah. Pretty strange.”

“There wasn't a cloud in the sky yesterday.”

“You really think Black has anything to do with the weather?”

“Have you seen him today?”

“Actually, I did. My mom left her watch on the sink at Nails and Tan and wanted me to get it. Didn't want to talk to Katie. They had an argument yesterday or something. Maybe you didn't hear this, did you? I told Fred and Peter about it before you got here.”

“Black was at Nails and Tan? When was this?”

“On my way here.” Roland grinned. “He was there all right. He practically had his tongue down Katie's throat. Freaked me out, man.”

The revelation stunned Johnny. “He was kissing her?”

“Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. I couldn't actually see her because his back was to the door, but they were definitely close. Laughing.”

“You tell anyone else about this?”

“Just Fred and Peter. I guarantee you my mom would flip.”

“And you don't find that just a little bit strange, for a preacher to do that?”

Roland looked at the wall again. “Like you said, he's trying to get people's attention. Look at what just happened to Fred and Peter. The whole thing is pretty freaky, but you have to admit, it's kinda cool.”

“Maybe. And maybe not,” Johnny said.

“What do you mean, maybe or maybe not? It's either cool or it's not.”

“Maybe. But that doesn't mean it's good.”

“Has he done anything bad yet?”

Johnny thought about that. Fact was, scaring people to make a point wasn't a bad thing. All preachers did that at times, right? The Bible did that. What do you call God sending a whale to swallow Jonah? Maybe Black was that whale, going to towns to swallow them up so they would change their minds.

“Maybe not,” Johnny said. “But we can't tell.”

“Well, Peter said Black's gonna be at his house tonight.” A thin smile tugged at Roland's lips. “You ever spy?”

“Spy on Black?”

“Come on, you know that half the people around here leave their shades open at night. You just sneak up and look in. You've done it.”

“Not for a few years I haven't. And not on Black. What if we get caught?”

“We won't get
caught.”

“I don't know . . . he's . . .”

“He's Marsuvees Black. Come on, Johnny. He's just a crazy preacher who's messing with people's heads a bit. So we check him out.”

Johnny glanced at the sky. Black, black, everything was black. “When?”

Roland shrugged. “Eight? After dark.”

“Okay.”

Roland grinned. “Cool.”

“Cool,” Johnny said.

But it didn't feel cool. Nothing about Black felt cool.

CHAPTER NINE

THE MONASTERY

Thursday afternoon

DARCY SAT in the rear of the class, looking at thirty-six heads covered with blond and brown and black hair. And one covered in red hair. Billy stuck out three rows over on her left, the monastery's cherry.

Billy glanced over with those green eyes of his, and she turned her head back to Raul, who was rambling on about the second rule.

Rambling? Not rambling as in
boring
. Rambling as in
We've heard this a
million times, old man. Get on with some good stuff
. In truth, he was speaking eloquently about greatness in purity. On the other hand, it
was
rather boring. It bothered her that she thought so.

She stole a quick look at Billy and saw that he was fidgeting, probably bored out of his skull, waiting for class to end so he could sneak down to the dungeons and play with his ghosts. She was surprised to be thrilled at the idea and turned back to Raul. She pinched the bridge of her nose to concentrate on the overseer's words.

“So, someone tell me why,” Raul said. “Why is an adventure which leads to purity so grand? Come on, we've been over this in our sleep.”

Tyler raised his hand.

The overseer motioned to the brown-headed Indian boy, the youngest in the class.

“The Creator is pure. Therefore, a life that leads us to purity leads us to the Creator. And no man could possibly find an adventure grander than one that leads to the Creator.”

A soft chorus of agreement rippled through the room.

“Yes,” Darcy whispered as the approval died down. But her mind was on Billy. Had he also said
yes
, just to be proper?

“Someone else? Yes, Paul?”

Darcy wondered what was running through his head after their talk with Billy at breakfast.

“A path leading to purity will cross enough challenges to make the human head spin.” The class chuckled. “It's not only arriving at the conclusion of purity which is so thrilling, but it's the journey to that conclusion. Overcoming the challenges. Each obstacle passed, each challenge met and won. This presents a new level of satisfaction.”

Brilliant.
Judging by their response, the rest of the class agreed with her assessment.
Brilliant indeed, but old hat, brother. Give me something new.

The moment she thought it, Darcy knew Billy had gotten to her. Not that she had any intention of actually doing what Billy suggested. Heavens, no. But she wasn't thinking the same, and she wondered why. A little tick had burrowed into her skull, and every time she heard one of the old truths, the insect began to chew on her brain.

She looked at Billy again. He was staring at her, and this time she stared back. He was awfully cute with his auburn hair and green eyes. He was certainly one of the brightest students. Maybe second to Samuel.

Raul was speaking again, but she didn't hear him. Something in Billy's eyes pulled at her. Something that said,
You and I are the same
. And she liked that. It felt good.

Maybe Billy
was
on to something.

She had a responsibility to look after him, didn't she? At the very least she should check up on him. The poor soul was heading for a cliff without the slightest clue.

How did one get to the subterranean levels anyway?

CHAPTER TEN

PARADISE

Thursday night

AS FAR as Johnny could tell, nothing in Paradise changed that afternoon. Other than the wind, which was blowing harder, and the sky, which was growing darker. He spent the hours in his room, waiting for his mother to return.

Roland hung out for an hour but wanted to go home because, as he put it, his own mother and father were behaving a bit strange, and Johnny was making him nervous with all his talk about Black.

Johnny thumbed the toggle and blasted his way through one of his older PlayStation games, Red Alert IV. He paused the game every fifteen or twenty minutes to check the front window. The streets were empty. Paradise was too far off the beaten track to become a hotbed for tourism, but that didn't keep the odd traveler from braving the mountains to find this fruit-farming community. Maybe the storm discouraged visitors; it was raining hard along the Highway 50 corridor.

Johnny resumed his game and killed a few more bad guys without thinking through the steps. He tried to call his mother on the cell phone but couldn't find her signal. It happened up here, enough to make his mother swear on occasion.

Back to the game.

The front door slammed at six o'clock.

“Mom?”

Johnny ran out to the living room to greet his mother, who held several bulging bags. She was wearing new black jeans with a red and white blouse. Her blonde hair was windblown but she beamed, clearly not bothered by the weather.

“Finally,” Johnny exclaimed. “What took you so long? I've been . . .”

He stopped short. Something about his mother's brown eyes scared him more than the horror movie he and Roland rented last weekend. They were . . . distracted. Dull. Not unlike the eyes of the rest in the bar.

“Hello, Johnny. Am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Late?”

“It's . . . it's six o'clock.”

“Well, I've been home for an hour. I just stopped in to update the others.” She walked past him. “Boy, is it raining down the mountain. Highway 50's a river! I half-expected to find the town washed away.” She dropped her bags and faced him. “I tried calling on the cell, but the service is out. The storm's knocked everything out. I'm surprised we still have power.”

“Where have you been?”

“I told you, I stayed in Grand Junction to shop.”

“But you've been talking to the others?”

Her smile faded. “Well, of course, honey. What's wrong? You look like a ghost.”

Johnny swallowed.“Nothing's wrong. It's just that nothing's right around here. The wind, the clouds, the preacher—”

“Of course nothing's normal. We're in the middle of a storm.” She walked up to him and ruffled his hair, a habit of hers that he was losing interest in.

“I guess I owe you an apology. They told me about the eyes. I'm sorry for doubting you saw what you thought you saw. I just couldn't imagine anybody actually doing what you claimed the preacher did. I was right about that, but I had no right to dismiss you.”

“It's okay.” Johnny turned away and sat on the sofa. They'd stolen his thunder. “What did they tell you?”

“You mean Katie? The service, her dreams, the meeting this morning—pretty
much everything, I suppose.” She opened the refrigerator and studied the contents. “Why? You know something else?”

“So you believe him?”

Sally withdrew a bottle of cranberry juice and flipped open the cupboard for a glass. “Makes sense to me. Sure it's all a bit strange, but this world is half-full of strange people.”

They were welcome words. If his mother thought Black was legit, then he probably
was
legit.

“If I'd gone to Junction and the medical examiner told me that Cecil died of trauma to the head or eyes, I would think differently. Actually, it's all a bit exciting, don't you think?”

“Unless he turns out to be a liar,” Johnny said.

She poured her drink. “He was a liar. Yesterday, right? Katie said you were in the saloon. You heard him yourself. He did it to make a point.”

“And what about this thing that's coming to Paradise? Katie tell you about that?”

“What thing?”

“Black said he's doing all this to help prepare us for something that's coming.”

“He said that?” For the first time since she'd entered, a shadow of concern crossed his mother's face. “Hmm. Now that's weird. You hungry?”

His mother had a way of letting the steam out of his concerns. At least she was keeping an open mind.

“Sure. I'm starved.”

They made small talk while Sally cooked up some spaghetti and prepared a green salad with tomatoes, Johnny's favorite. For an hour they were the normal small-family unit that Johnny had grown accustomed to since his grandfather's death. His mother was a bit distracted, but he wrote it off to a good shopping day. Funny how buying clothes and shoes could make someone so happy.

As the eight o'clock spying mission approached, his concern made a comeback. He thought about calling Roland and telling him he couldn't go out, but the fact of the matter was, he wanted to find out what Black was up to as much as Roland did. Maybe more.

Sally pushed her plate away. “Boy, that was delicious if I don't say so myself.”

She picked up the bottle of oily Italian dressing and eyed it.“The preacher's stuff looks a bit like this. Don't you think?”

The comment caught Johnny off guard. She'd seen the bottle? “What do you mean?”

“Katie had a bottle—”

“You didn't taste it, did you?”

Sally looked up at Johnny, held his eyes. “It was harmless, Johnny.” She set the bottle down. “She said it was aloe vera and some kind of mild sedative.”

“Mild? It's got half the town seeing things!”

“Well, I haven't seen anything. Besides, I wouldn't mind knowing what all the hoopla's about.” Sally stood and took her plate into the kitchen. “It'll be fine, Johnny. Paradise could use a little excitement now and then.”

A question ballooned in his mind. Why were the rest so eager to taste Black's concoction while he had no interest? At least not enough interest to give in. They'd supposedly all been exposed to the water. Had he drunk any water in the last couple days? Yes, he had. So then why were they different from him? Maybe they really weren't.

His mother didn't think it was a big deal. So then it probably wasn't.

He looked at the clock—two minutes to eight. He had to meet Roland.

Maybe they were all just questioning things because that's exactly what the preacher wanted them to do. He was thinking pretty hard about things he'd hardly ever thought about, right? Maybe Black was an angel who'd come to save Paradise.

Then who was coming to kill them all?

JOHNNY LOOKED around the old theater and studied the street. He could just see the outline of the Bowerses' house. Like a ghost across the street, barely glowing in the night, shifting behind a thin curtain of blowing dust. The blinds were open.

He pulled his head back.