Take the Long Way Home by Brian Keene Read Free Book Online Page B

us.
    “Where you guys heading, anyway?” Tony called out.
    “Pennsylvania,” I said, without looking back.
    “What’s in Pennsylvania?”
    “My wife.”
    “What else?”
    “That’s what we intend to find out.”
    Frank, Charlie and I continued on side by side, and when we passed under the body, and heard the rope creaking, none of us glanced upward.
    There was no time to hang around, after all.
    We didn’t talk for a long time as all of us were out of breath. My thoughts were on Terri. Random images, really. When we met in college. Our first date. First argument. First time we made love. Our wedding day, and when we moved into the house. I missed her.
    Frank finally broke the silence. “Anybody know a good joke?”
    “How’s this?” Charlie said. “A Jew, a Polack, and a homo are walking down the middle of the interstate at night . . .”
    Frank and I both grinned.
    “What’s the punch-line?” I asked.
    Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
    Half a mile later, we came across the Soapbox Man, as Charlie called him. Wild-eyed and frothing, his clothes and hair in disarray, he’d climbed atop the hood of an abandoned car and was preaching the Gospel to all who would listen. Surprisingly, he’d attracted a small crowd. They passed a bottle of wine around and listened, staring at him with rapt attention, their eyes shining in the darkness, their mouths glistening wet.
    “It’s the end times,” he hissed. “The angel has played the trump and the seven seals will be opened! Blood. Fire. Disease. And another angel will appear, the angel of death, and he shall ride a pale horse.”
    5
    We crept past, trying to avoid making eye contact with the crazed preacher.
    “This is your fault,” the man roared, jabbing a finger at the crowd. “You have brought this upon yourselves, because you had ears but did not hear. You had eyes but did not see. You denied God, and put other gods before Him. Now He has called His faithful home, and has left me behind to warn you of what will come. You removed Him from your schools and courtrooms and allowed sodomites to marry and babies to be killed in their wombs. Now you will pay the price for your sins. This is the start of the long, dark night.”
    “Fucking nutcase,” Frank grumbled. “As if things weren’t bad enough.”
    After we’d safely made it past the group and were out of earshot, we picked up our pace again.
    “Think that’s true?” Charlie asked.
    Frank snorted. “What? That God took everybody away because of abortion and gay marriage?”
    “Well . . . yeah.”
    “Fucking bullshit,” Frank said. “I’ve got an easier time believing in little gray men, and I don’t believe that either.”
    I grinned. “I take it you’re not religious?”
    Frank scowled. “Used to be, until my wife left. Came home from work one day and she’d cleaned the house out. Left me a dinner plate, fork and spoon. And the lawnmower. Come to find out she’d been cheating on me for the last six months. Ended up moving in with the guy, and left me holding the mortgage. We got divorced. I filed for bankruptcy while she got remarried.”
    Charlie whistled. “Damn. That sucks, man.”
    “Yeah, it does. After that, I just quit believing. Seemed easier that way. I mean, you take a look around and all you see are wars and famine and people dying of cancer and little kids getting snatched by sick fucks like the guy back at the bridge. There’s just too much heartache and pain. Where’s the love? God’s supposed to be love, right? I don’t think He exists. Think we’re all walking around trying to live our lives according to a book that was pieced together when dinosaurs still roamed the earth.”
    “So you’re an atheist?” I asked.
    “Yep,” Frank said. “And probably going straight to Hell for it. Heh—I don’t believe in God but I still believe in Hell. Ain’t that funny?”
    Charlie and I agreed that it was.
    “How about you