Hanging Curve by Dani Amore Read Free Book Online Page A

Immediately, two of the men led a third to the center of the circle, within a few feet of The Messiah. They put their hands on his shoulders and guided him to the ground. Joseph was the youngest of the group, and also the slightest. His body trembled beneath the moonlight.
    One of the men took Joseph’s hands and gently pulled outward, so that he was kneeling on all fours.
    The desert wind picked up and sent a fine spray of sand over the group.
    The Messiah lifted Bartholomew up and gently pushed him back toward the circle where he resumed his place, facing away from the drama unfolding in the center.
    The Messiah walked to the three men in the middle and observed the youth. He knelt down behind the young man who tried to turn, but one of the disciples held him in place.
    The Messiah lifted his shirt and tossed it to the ground behind him. A large chain with a heavy crucifix was around his neck.
    He shoved himself roughly inside the youth. The Messiah reached up and took the heavy chain crucifix from his neck, leaned forward and wrapped it around the young man’s neck. He took the loose ends of the chain and wound them around his hands, like a garrote.
    The Messiah felt the desert wind on his face, the slight sting of granules of sand. He thought of the ancients, of the Hebrews and the Philistines, of great treks across deserts like this one. Lost souls looking for a light, a spirit, guidance. He imagined a white-hot light radiating from his very essence, brighter than the burning salvation of Jesus, Mohammed, and Shiva combined.
    He rode the young man and his hands slammed apart, tightening the chain garrote. The youth began to snort and twist, but the Messiah maintained his hold.
    The young man’s tongue shot from his mouth, his face turned purple.
    The Messiah’s eyes blazed. He thought of a majestic mountain circled by millions of his followers, kneeling, all begging him for final salvation.
    The Messiah kept the chain tight around the youth’s throat, the links tearing through the skin, blood soaking the sand below.
    When the Messiah heard the young man give his death rattle, and when he felt the body relax as the last bit of life ebbed from the youth beneath him, he stood, breathing heavily.
    When he spoke, he felt as if the voice of God himself poured like pure oxygen from his lungs.
    “Prepare the grave,” he said, his voice thick with exertion.
    Immediately, the remaining four men dug into the sand with their bare hands.

 
     
     
     
    14.
     
    Mack
     
    He sat up and watched the thick stand of palmettos sway gently back and forth in the early morning Florida breeze.
    The steam from his coffee met the breeze and Mack watched as it caught then swirled upward, like cigarette smoke on a lazy day.
    Voices invaded the solitude of the morning and Mack saw a red kayak nose into his view. The Estero River swam to the south and west where it eventually pooled and became Estero Bay. From there, one had several access channels to the Gulf of Mexico.
    Mack watched the kayakers, a young man and woman, college age, probably here on break. They’d almost certainly rented the kayaks from Estero River Outfitters, just up the road from Mack’s place. If they’d come to see alligators on the river they’d missed that opportunity by about five years or so.
    Mack sipped from his coffee as the sliding glass door behind him opened.
    “Good morning, ladies,” he said.
    Two women approached the table. One was a tall woman, her skin the color of mocha, with broad shoulders and thick, sturdy legs. As always, Mack was struck by the beauty of her face. Adelia Williams had the kind of stunning, classic features Mack always thought of as regal.
    Adelia was a live-in nurse for the other woman now taking a seat next to Mack. Janice Mack was five years younger than him. He always had, and always would, think of her his little sister.
    In the morning light, he studied her face. She had his eyes, a blue green that seemed to reflect the