Erik Handy by Hell of the Dead Read Free Book Online Page A

people?
    After all that had happened in the past day, those final straws, the priest doubted God existed. That brought on a crisis Nolan did not want to deal with right now. Besides, Raymond, and now Jacoby, waited for his answer.
    Nolan stumbled for a response. Finally, "I'm here to offer hope."
    Raymond let out a single laugh. "I applaud you, Father. You're not the first to come to this part of the world to offer a beacon of light. And you will not be the last. It is a foolish endeavor, but I applaud you just the same."
    Raymond turned back around, leaving Nolan to his own thoughts.
    Was it foolish? He came here several months ago with a mission: to offer hope and spiritual guidance. His predecessor, a burned-out shell of a man, told him that the quest may seem fruitless at first or even for years after, but that was all right. One splinter of light was enough to gnaw at the darkness just like these jeep headlights pierced the night. Right?
    Jacoby wished he was back at the bar.
    The men sat in silence until they arrived a little further up the road where a man blocked their passage. The black man was disheveled, his hair in several different directions at once. He had one look in his eyes, one stare for the police in the jeeps in front of him and that look was of murder. Do not attempt to pass here, it told the men.
    The jeeps slowed to a stop a few yards from the man.
    Raymond stood up in his jeep. "Move aside!" he yelled.
    The man stood still.
    "Move aside!" Raymond repeated.
    The man didn't move. He simply stared ahead, not necessarily at the men or the jeeps, but ahead.
    This began to unnerve each man, soldier and priest alike. Jacoby and Nolan watched the scene, enraptured.
    The man reached behind himself with one arm and withdrew a machete from his waistband. He turned the dull, yet brutal blade to show that he would not be cast aside so easily.
    Raymond pulled his gun and shot the man once.
    The man fell on his back, dead once he hit the ground. The hole in his chest still bled out as the caravan continued over him.
     

Chapter 25
     Rosalo waited alone outside of the hut that held Marie. He closed his eyes. He felt a warm buzz in the air. It wasn't the heat or humidity. It was what he sensed before every sacrifice. The anticipation of death, of murder, some might call it. Rosalo didn't care much for names. It, the sacrifices, were just means to an end. Some of the people he enraptured enough to join him in his village used drugs to get high. He used death. That buzz was electric, mystical, and holy. First, the baby, his baby, the most precious sacrifice he could ever make. Then, his wife. If she still lived. He was surprised her stab wound hadn't killed her instantly. No. She deserved a slow death, especially after she sliced his hand. Impetuous bitch.
    He held his hand up, eyes still closed. He couldn't feel the itchy cut, not in his rising euphoria.
    A shout came from the hut behind him. Then one of his men.
    "She's gone!"
    Rosalo opened his eyes. He couldn't believe she'd run again. He couldn't believe she had the strength to get off the ground. By all rights, she should have been dead! He was going to drag out her suffering once she was found.
    Calmly, he told the panicked villager, "Get the men. All of them."
    The man ran through the village, banging on doors, rousing the males. Those in huts stepped out, some putting clothes on as they moved; their wives peeking out at them as they joined the small mob that formed in the center of the village.
    No one was tired. They weren't sleeping. They knew Rosalo's sacrifice would be at dawn, a few hours away. They didn't dare sleep or indulge in other pleasures for fear of missing it.
    As soon as the men formed a group around, their leader addressed them. "I do not have a speech to motivate you. Instead, I have a simple favor." He gestured to the jungle around their settlement. "My wife has fled us again. Last night I asked you to bring her back to me. Now I ask you