“Maybe try your other hand?” Dave suggested.
I gritted my teeth and yanked the glove off my other hand before touching the entire row of dead parishioners. Nothing. No death echoes, no violence, no memories.
“Are you broken?” Dave asked. “Have you lost your connection with the dead?” Harry paled, clearly I had not lost my connection.
“I am not broken.”
“When was the last time you did a successful read?”
“Last week, with Bernard from the west side of town. Remember, you brought him to me?”
Dave huffed an agreement as I moved down the rows and touched each and every person before glancing back at Sebastian and Dave in disbelief. “I’m broken.”.”
Chapter Eight
What does it sound like when the Devil blows his trumpet?
The Children of God were now called The Family, and while they had questionable practices and beliefs, it had never been suggested that they worshiped the Devil. This was a stage set to throw the limelight on the elusive Satan-worshiping cults, and if it succeeded, it might ignite the 1980’s public panic we saw surrounding the shrouded world of Satanic rituals. Last time, twelve thousand reports poured into the authorities—unsubstantiated, but also due to their volume, unmanageable. The Order had stepped in and assisted the human law enforcement with weeding out that which would take a more supernatural angle to resolve.
“This is a clumsy attempt to reject Christianity and condemn the residents of Peach Tree for Satanism?” Dave asked. We’d not yet left the church, we were checking everywhere to see what other clues the guilty had left to fool the authorities.
“Actually,” I began, ducking to check under the pews. The only thing suspicious was Harry’s booted feet hovering a few inches off the ground. “If you consider Satanism to be the rebellion of Christianity, to worship a being derived from Christianity, then you must accept that Christianity is, in fact, the true worldview.”
“Without God, the Devil cannot exist, and without the Devil, God cannot exist?” Sebastian concluded. Not technically true, I’m sure God would go on existing if my uncle met his demise.
I stood, finding nothing amiss on the floor. “A very simplistic view, but essentially, yes. But one thing is clear, this is not Satanism and this is a small fraction of the town.”
“So where is everyone else?” Dave asked.
“I’m not sure. Caleb isn’t among the dead here, so they must be somewhere in town. Somewhere big enough to house a town full of bodies.”
“I cannot sense him,” Harry added.
I stalked to the front of the church and debated picking up the book masquerading as an evil tome that led these parishioners to doom. If we let the lie live, then we give the authorities something to focus on while we try to uncover what, or rather whom, is behind this. I spun and sighed as my two companions stared at me for direction.
“I think if we leave the staged scene, the authorities will most likely call The Order for guidance anyway.”
“And then your grandmother will call you?” Dave asked. It wasn’t accusing, merely curious.
Very clever, Dave.He was trying to figure out where I fitted into my grandmother’s organization. I shook my head. “Unlikely, there are dedicated teams who work these kinds of cases. But like us, they will figure out very quickly this is a lie meant to redirect.”
“How long do we have before they arrive?”
“A day, perhaps two. Law enforcement always tries to figure this shit out first and only when their reports start to hit technology does it raise a red flag to people in the inner circle.”
“Let’s find the rest of the townsfolk, then take it from there,” Dave suggested as he began to open the door to the outside.
The sun had now set into the horizon, leaving behind a scattering of twinkling stars dotting the inky sky. I scanned the street. Where would be big enough for hundreds of bodies? The library was a large building, but wasn’t conducive to stacking bodies. We began walking toward the crossroads back into the center of town. The café promising the best peach pie came into view along with a celebratory sign for the football match which took place two days ago. A sinking heavy weight settled in my stomach. The church was a perversion, but the school—that would be unthinkable.
“Which direction is the school?” I asked. Dave pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was the latest model, in pristine condition, but the bigger version and he pulled it close to his face, narrowing his eyes. “Do you need glasses?”
His gaze flickered to mine. “No.”
Okay, then. A woman’s voice boomed from his phone and informed us to turn right at the crossroads.
He raised a brow as we followed the instructions. “What?”
I shrugged. “Never took you for someone who followed technology.”
