A Pagan's Nightmare by Ray Blackston Read Free Book Online Page B

customers. “You’re, um, both in today’s paper, too.” He pointed to a stack of
USA Today.
The headline had nothing to do with war or politics or natural disasters. Today’s headline, just like the traffic report
     on the radio, was of a more personal nature:
    Reward Offered!
    Marvin the Apostle is offering the Big Reward, a seat on his purple
velvet sofa (you’ll sit in eternity next
     to Marvin!) to anyone who captures
and converts these two remaining rebels: Georgia native
Lanny Hooch, and Florida native
     Ned Wallace, otherwise known
as DJ Ned. Hurry! Three-day time limit!!
    Below those words were pictures of Lanny and Ned, two shots each, frontal and profile. Pale and shaking, Lanny backed slowly
     away from the counter. Hot and fuming, Ned flipped the paper over to see what other news could agitate his day. He skimmed
     the latest rumors of his and Lanny’s whereabouts, then noted a sidebar below the fold:
    Religious Lotto:
    Five lucky numbers will win tapes and DVDs
of Marvin the Apostle’s inspiring lecture, “Housing Assignments
in the Everafter.” Grand drawing this Sunday at noon!!
    Still behind the cash register, the clerk backed against the wall, as if unsure what he should do. DJ Ned dropped a twenty
     on the counter and nudged Lanny toward the door.
    “Who is this Marvin schmuck?” Ned muttered to himself. “I’ll punch him in the nose.”
    “Get in line,” Lanny said.
    They had just pushed open the doors to leave when the cashier shouted, “Sir, your change—”
    “Keep it,” Ned muttered. He did not see the cashier pull two pairs of handcuffs from under the counter.
    “Well then,” the cashier shouted, “how ‘bout accepting some free literature?” He held the handcuffs behind his back and came
     around the newspaper stand.
    Ned was already out the door. Without turning around he shook his head no. The clerk followed.
    At the car, Lanny glanced back and saw a flash of chrome cuffs. The cashier let the glass door slam shut behind him and strode
     toward them.
    “Ned!” Lanny shouted. “Look out.”
    Ned had just opened his trunk to put the six-pack into his cooler. He reached in and brandished a tire iron, holding it high
     overhead.
    “Just keep your distance, Zealot Boy.”
    The cashier paused near the hood before stepping back to the store’s entrance, dangling the handcuffs in his right hand. “Someone
will catch
you two, ya know. You can’t run far.” He raised his empty left hand and flashed them a blue plastic wristband with WWMD on
     it.
    “What is that?” Ned asked, still holding the tire iron.
    “What Would Marvin Do,” the cashier replied. He attached the handcuffs to his belt buckle and ran back inside the store and
     picked up the phone.
    Ned insisted on driving, so he and Lanny sped away in the Mercedes, fearing they’d be followed.
    “We leave the South
tonight,”
Ned insisted, “maybe even the country.”
    Lanny kept watch behind them. “But. . . but I’ve got to find Miranda. She’s the only thing that I really value.”
    “You saw that headline. They’ll all be after us now.”
    For several miles both men remained silent, minds turning, grasping for answers. Finally certain that they weren’t being followed,
     Lanny turned to face the front and said, “How can that Marvin guy know that there’s a purple velvet sofa in the front row
     of heaven? I’m not even sure there
is
a heaven.”
    Ned chewed on the question for a moment. “Beats me. Maybe it’s one of those prophecy things.”
    In forty minutes they’d driven past downtown Cocoa, then over a bridge and a marsh and to the entrance of Pelican’s Harbor
     Retirement Homes. At the fifth house on the left—which looked exactly like all the other houses on the left—Lanny spotted
     Miranda’s parents’ car, a beige Buick. On the small front porch sat a black leather travel bag.
    Lanny jumped out, hurried past the Buick, and ran to the front door. Ned remained standing beside his