In the House of the Wicked by Thomas E. Sniegoski Read Free Book Online Page B

People stood around her as reporters yelled out questions and pictures flashed.
    “What’s her story?” Remy asked.
    “Guess she’s been in a coma for a few years—some kind of accident. They never expected her to wake up.”
    Linda stretched, her arms reaching up over her head as she yawned.
    “And now she’s awake,” Remy said, still watching the TV. The cameras pulled in close to the child’s face as she peeked out from beneath her covers. There was something haunting about her eyes.
    “Awake and talking about all kinds of stuff.”
    “All kinds of stuff?”
    “Yeah, religious stuff. She says she has a message from God.”
    The station cut to a commercial break, leaving a bad taste in Remy’s mouth. He had little patience for supposed prophets proclaiming a direct line to Heaven.
    “What’s the message?” he asked, trying to hide his distaste.
    “No idea,” Linda said, sliding to the other side of the couch for her wineglass atop a side table. “She says He hasn’t told her yet, that it isn’t time or the world isn’t ready, or something like that.”
    Remy doubted very much that the child was responsible for the proclamation, guessing that an ambitious family member was likely to blame. He wondered how long it would be before they were selling vials of the little girl’s tears and displaying her features on special healing pillowcases or some such nonsense.
    “I find it very sad,” Linda was saying as she sipped the last of the wine from her glass. “A sick child being exploited like that.”
    The Seraphim stirred in agreement. Ever since the earth had been saved from the Apocalypse, more and more of these diviners, seers, and soothsayers had been crawling out of the woodwork with some vision of the future. The world was indeed in flux, but Remy seriously doubted that any of these people had the inside track on anything worth paying attention to.
    Linda set down her empty glass and yawned loudly. Marlowe sat up and yawned, as well, as if in solidarity.
    “Sleepy?” Remy asked her.
    “Yeah,” she answered with a nod. “You two want to stay over?”
    “Nah.” Remy stood. “I want to get to the office early tomorrow, and you’re a very bad influence on my work ethic.”
    “Your loss,” she said, shrugging. “But since I’m working both lunch and dinner shifts, we probably won’t see each other tomorrow.”
    Linda was a waitress at Piazza, a restaurant on the trendy Newbury Street. She also attended school, working toward her teaching degree. Sometimes it was a bit tough to see each other.
    “See what a bad influence you are? I’m not even out of your apartment, and already you’re working your wiles on me,” Remy said as he bent toward her.
    He kissed her noisily on the lips and she reached up, gently holding the back of his head, making him kiss her more.
    Bad influence or not.
    Remy didn’t mind in the least.
    The Catskill Mountains
The Deacon Estate
    August 8, 1945
    Deacon had no idea if his mad plan would work.
    He had learned from a trusted, high-ranking source in the Pentagon where the first of the bombs was to be dropped, and had prepared to collect the energies that would be released when that bomb detonated.
    Using less-than-legal channels, he had managed to dispatch the most sophisticated golem he had ever created to the island of Japan, where it traveled to the target city to await the inevitable. This golem would be the receiver for the death energies, collecting the vast amounts of power and transmitting it back to the receiver in the Catskills and into the members of the cabal.
    At least, that was the plan. Whether or not it worked had yet to be determined.
    Hundreds of thousands of people had died when the atomic bomb exploded over Hiroshima, and as their life energies were transferred to Deacon, he experienced the life of each and every one of them. A mad rush of images, feelings, and sensations poured into him, threatening to drown him in their intensity.
    He