Panacea by F. Paul Wilson Read Free Book Online Page B

and plowed into him as he crossed a street in Salt Lake City, of all places.
    James Fife was why Nelson had joined the CIA, and why he had become a member of the 536 Brotherhood monastic order. He’d inculcated the truth behind the Scriptures in Nelson from the moment he entered his care. But though the Brotherhood was a cenobitic order, dwelling—or perhaps hiding—in plain sight in the community, his uncle was fond … No, that wasn’t the right word. Attached was better. Uncle Jim was attached to the old ways.
    Nelson would never forget the day he found Uncle Jim scourging himself. He’d gaped at the bloodied flesh of his back as his uncle explained that through the course of Nelson’s life his faith would be tested by both the Serpent and the Lord Himself. He would have to be strong to pass those tests. The scourging was a form of discipline, but also punishment in advance for future lapses.
    Nelson had never been able to bring himself to engage in the scourge. For that reason, perhaps, he would never ascend to the head of the Brotherhood as his uncle had.
    The abbot of the 536 Brotherhood wheeled himself through the doorway. All the other members of the Brotherhood called him “Prior.” Nelson called him Uncle Jim.
    â€œWell, Nelson, you certainly did a good job upsetting Mavis.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThe late-shift receptionist.”
    â€œOh. The apostate.”
    â€œYou can’t hold everyone to our standards, Nelson.”
    â€œI can if they call themselves a Catholic but are anything but.”
    â€œLet’s drop it, okay?” Jim smiled. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
    Nelson took a deep breath. Right. He had not come here to argue with a lowly receptionist. He had something so much more important. His hands trembled with anticipation as he pulled the vials from his pocket.
    â€œThese.”
    Jim’s eyes went wide. “Is that…?”
    â€œJust found them hidden in a panacean’s home.”
    Jim reached out a shaky right hand.
    Just don’t drop it, Nelson thought as he placed one in his uncle’s palm.
    Jim held it up to the light, a look of wonder suffusing his lopsided features as tears filled his eyes.
    â€œThis is it … really it?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œPraise the Lord.”
    Nelson felt his throat thicken and tears start in his own eyes … so proud to be able to offer his uncle this moment.
    â€œThe essence of evil,” Jim whispered. “After all these years … with our dwindling numbers and resources, I was beginning to fear I’d never live to see the day.”
    Nelson knew what he meant. The Brotherhood had once numbered in the thousands, but times had changed. The world became more secular as science pushed God farther and farther away. The quiescence of the panaceans hadn’t helped. The Brotherhood existed to oppose them, but with no visible opponent, their ranks had dwindled until they now numbered fewer than two hundred worldwide. Those brothers were well placed to act in case the panacean threat returned—which it had—but still …
    â€œI know it’s been looking grim,” Nelson said, “but you never lost faith.”
    â€œI confess that it wavered at times. We were never assured victory. And we still haven’t won.”
    â€œNot yet, no.” Nelson pointed to the vial. “But that is going to lead me to the source so I can remove this scourge once and for all. I just wish…”
    Jim’s gaze flicked toward him. “What?”
    â€œI just wish you could be with me … at my side when we win.”
    â€œThat is not God’s plan, apparently.”
    â€œAs you’ve always told me, we can’t know God’s plan. Maybe He let me find two vials for a reason … maybe the extra is meant to heal you.”
    Jim shoved the vial back into Nelson’s hands. “No. Never.” His