Authors: Richard Bowker

Summit (56 page)

When Beekman was halfway down the driveway, Coulter depressed the accelerator and turned the corner. Beekman hesitated, noticing the car, then continued toward the curb.

Aim high,
Coulter reminded himself. Beekman wasn't so stupid that he would forget to wear his Kevlar vest. Coulter slowed down, then stopped.

Beekman saw the open window, and his eyes widened with understanding and fear, but it was too late. Coulter picked up the gun with his right hand, leaned out the window, and fired. Once, twice, three times.

The second one hit, the abortionist's face exploded and his body crumpled, and Coulter could almost feel the searing wind as his soul plunged down to hell.

No time to savor the triumph of God's justice, however. Human justice had its own rules, despicable though they were. Coulter put the gun back under the newspaper and sped away in the cold, snowy dawn, his spirit aflame but still unsatisfied.

For there were many Devils, and his work had just begun.