Page 76 of Nun’s Prayer

“He carried chilled items. It’s refrigerated. We don’t have any other property. But Benjamin’s obsessed with that truck,” Catherine answered.

“Hatton’s having those back at the office dig into him.” Cassidy’s cell rang, and he stepped away.

“Think, Catherine. Why did he not pursue Nun previously?” Blue asked.

“He didn’t know about her until five years ago,” Catherine replied.

“What?” I held her gaze.

“None of us spoke about her at all. She was dead to us because of the untruths she fabricated. Only they weren’t lies, were they?” Catherine screamed at her parents. Keith and Marion flinched. “Dad slipped up while we were watching a show on sinners, and Benjamin heard him. He demanded that I answer his questions, and I told him everything. But we didn’t know where Margaret was, so he wouldn’t have managed to find her.”

“And he went after the others until you lucked out and crossed paths with her. God, you righteous bastards make me sick. Check out the lives you’ve ruined. You’re as warped as he is,” Blue snapped at Keith and Marion. They flinched back.

“The cops might not charge you with crimes, but the public will soon know everything. And God have mercy on your soul when they do,” I said.

“We’ve got something. A motorist rang in, saying they saw a man driving a black SUV into a shipping container attached to a truck,” Cassidy stated, approaching. “Hatton wants me to stay with the family to make sure they don’t run. I’ve sent the details to your phone. State police and everyone else are getting the updated alerts. The FBI tracked it, and we finally have his vehicle registration plate.”

“And that’s why we can’t find the SUV,” I replied.

“Let’s go,” Blue said and began jogging out. My cell buzzed, and I nodded at Cassidy and followed Blue.

Nun

The sound made me open my eyes. I’d been fighting for consciousness for a few minutes but kept being dragged down. I was thrown onto a threadbare mattress and tied up. My entire body ached, and I was sure I had a concussion. My helmet had been removed, and my ankles were bound. Wriggling into a sitting position was difficult with my hands behind my back, but I managed.

I opened my eyes and wished I hadn’t. Oh God. I began shaking as I stared at the horrific image in front of me. A woman rose on tiptoes, a habit at her feet. She wore a white shift to her knees, which left her arms and shoulders bare. Her legs had been clamped together, and her arms were crossed over her breasts. Some metal stand held her in place. A halo on a thin piece of wood was jammed into the back of her skull, although from the front, you wouldn’t realise that. The next thing terrified me.

From her back spread out wings created from human flesh; I could only assume he’d sliced down the middle of her spine and stretched the skin to make them. The light filtered through the delicate skin and made me ill. The corpse was transformed into a macabre angel.

White orbs stared at me from the face which had belonged to Theresa Clare. Her skin had been smoothed out, but it didn’t hide the agony or terror etched into it.

I looked away, unable to stare anymore, and landed on the next monstrosity. The body had been forced to its knees. A crown of nails was secured around the head with a cross jammed into the top of her skull. She wore the same white shift, her elbows bent in supplication. A heavy iron nail had been drilled into her palms, holding them together. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, and her tongue lay on her hands. She’d been branded several times, and metal spikes attached to a chain, winding round her, pierced her body. Mary Immaculate had died hard and cruelly.

I bounced off the wall and realised I was in a truck. The air was cool, and I guessed it was kept at a certain temperature. I’d bet that these remains had been embalmed; I looked around and observed more corpses, all forced into one of two positions.

Chapter Sixteen.

Nun

A door opened with a squeak. It slammed shut with a finality that spoke volumes. I wouldn’t break and beg for release. With all these bodies, it was clear that never happened.

“What do you think of my angels?” a voice yelled, and I shrank back. The lights blinded me, obscuring my view of whoever was approaching.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

“God’s Reclaimer. I was sent to deliver your soul to him, to woo you away from the devil, and to help you retake your place.”

“Bullshit. You’re going to torture and kill me for your own perverse enjoyment,” I retorted.

A large figure stepped into the light. “Margaret, I won’t take offence. Your own perversions are talking for you,” he said and hitched his trousers up under his huge beer belly.

“You!” I gasped. That was Catherine’s husband! Benjamin, I think that was his name.

“My mission had already begun before I married Catherine. Sadly, I didn’t wish to; Catherine was bland and the perfect wife. Which I soon realised was God’s design. She never inquired where I went, what I was doing, or who I was with. I could come and go and keep following God’s plan, and Catherine was none the wiser. But she had more to give me, and God delivered. You. The ultimate sinner.”

“Whatever.” I didn’t want to hear Benjamin wax lyrical about his murders. But then again, if I kept him talking, my chances of being found increased.

“Chasing those who committed the offence of bringing the church into disrepute gave me the entirety of God’s plan. Now I understand why he had me marry Catherine. She led me to you.”