The Second Coming (51 page)

“6/6/66,” Father John said with dismay.

“That was when she realized they were right. I am the son of the Devil,” he proclaimed proudly as he pushed down on the knife, slowly severing the ear from Father John’s head. Father John let out a scream of agony. “She told me that after that night, she became a born again Christian and devoted her life to God because she knew that one day I would come for her. When I strangled her, she didn’t struggle or resist. She sat there and peacefully accepted her fate.”

“Why would you kill an innocent old lady like that? All she did was help deliver you,” Father John panted.

“You’re not listening to me,” the Sterling Killer roared as he sliced Father John’s ear clean off and watched the blood spurt down his face. “She was the only one, besides your father, who knew who I was and what they did to me. She was the only one who could connect me to the Satanic Codex.”

chapter
79

M
IKE AND
K
ATE
were kneeling next to Big Pete’s body on the grass to the side of the blazing church, smoke and ashen embers swirling above them as Mike applied pressure to Big Pete’s wound. The wailing of ambulance sirens grew louder until they stopped one after the other and were replaced by flashing lights and the sound of doors opening and shutting.

“We need a medic!” Mike’s voice boomed. “Hurry the fuck up. He’s dying.”

A male and female paramedic hurriedly pulled a fold down gurney from the back of the ambulance and rushed to their aid. They set a thin, wood backboard with red straps down on the ground in front of them. Mike and the two medics carefully maneuvered Big Pete’s body on top of it.

“What happened?” The female paramedic with dark hair pulled back in a tight pony tail asked distressed as she knelt at Big Pete’s side and began cutting his shirt off.

“He’s been shot,” Mike said in shock as he stood up and looked down with dismay at his best friend lying unconscious, covered with soot and blood.

“I can see that,” the bald paramedic responded as he examined the black and purple entry wound below his left nipple. “What type of gun was it?”

“A Colt forty five,” Mike replied blankly as he recalled that it was his father’s gun that the Sterling Killer used to shoot Big Pete.

Suddenly two more paramedics were upon them. A large black man dropped to Big Pete’s side next to the female as a stocky man with salt and pepper, crew-cut hair gently moved Mike and Kate to the side. “Are you two alright?” he asked looking them both over for signs of shock or trauma.

Mike and Kate didn’t respond. They just watched stunned as the three paramedics went to work on Big Pete.

“His breathing is shallow and labored,” one of the paramedics commented urgently as he began to insert a tube for intravenous fluids into Big Pete’s arm.

“He has threaded radial pulses,” another paramedic remarked as he inserted an intubation tube down his throat.

“His blood pressure is dropping rapidly,” the female responded as she strapped him to the backboard.

“Let’s get him to the ambulance,” the black paramedic commanded urgently.

The paramedic that was standing in front of Mike and Kate joined the others as they lifted the backboard by all four corners in unison and strapped Big Pete on the gurney and then ushered him across the lawn to the back of the ambulance. Mike and Kate followed in a daze as the paramedics lifted him into the back of the ambulance like a corpse, the stocky crew cut paramedic staying behind to check on them.

Mike peered into the ambulance and watched with distress as the paramedics worked frantically to save Big Pete’s life.

“Move aside. I’m going to shock him.”

Mike watched paralyzed as the paramedic squirted jell onto the paddles, rubbed them together, and then placed the paddles on Big Pete’s bare chest.

“Clear,” he shouted, followed by a heavy thump as Big Pete’s body flopped like a seal being hit with a club.

“It’s still irregular. Shock him again.”

The paramedic with the paddles placed them on Big Pete’s chest and pressed down. “Clear!” he shouted urgently.

Big Pete’s body thumped, but there was still no response.

“Come on Pete,” Mike pleaded under his breath and as Kate started to cry, he held her against his body. “It’s going to be alright. He’s not going to die.”

“We’re losing him. Shock him again.”

The paramedic held the paddles to his chest and shocked him with a jolt.

“I’ve got no pulse. He’s flat lining.”

“I’m going to administer epinephrine,” the bald headed paramedic declared desperately as he pulled out a needle and held it up as he gently pushed on it until the fluid squirted out the top. He tapped the syringe a few times with his finger and then inserted the needle into the IV line and injected the fluid. “I’m going to inject atropine now.”

The female paramedic and the black paramedic then took turns giving Big Pete mouth to mouth and compression to the chest, trying to resuscitate him for what seemed like an eternity. “Come on Petey. Don’t die on me now,” Mike thought to himself as he held Kate tightly in his arms as she watched in a daze.

“I’m going to do another round of epi and atropine.”

The two paramedics continued CPR, exchanging between performing chest compressions and mouth to mouth. Mike couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was like an out of body experience; like he was watching someone else die besides his best friend. He could tell by the alarm in the paramedics’ voices that Big Pete wasn’t going to make it. How the fuck did he let this happen? Once again, someone was going to die because of his mistakes. This time it was his best friend.

“I’m going to administer the last round of epinephrine.”

Mike knew this was it. If Big Pete didn’t respond to this last dose of epinephrine, he was not going to make it. “Don’t stop fighting Petey,” he thought as he tried to will him to live.

After a couple more minutes of trying to resuscitate him, the female paramedic stopped and they all looked at each other with defeated, blank faces. “I think we lost him,” she said remorsefully.

Kate stopped sobbing and her body went rigid in Mike’s arms as she raised her tear covered face from his chest and looked at the paramedics sitting slumped around Big Pete’s body. “You can’t stop trying. Please don’t let him die.”

chapter
80

T
HE FIRE STORM
was swirling in a frenzy as Father John lay on the ground with his arm wrenched behind his back and the Sterling Killer’s knee planted below his shoulder blades, his ear screaming in pain. How could his twin brother, someone with the same genetic make up as him, be so inherently evil? Was he born that way or was it caused by years of neglect? Was he really the Antichrist? Was Father John the second coming of Christ? There was no way for Father John to know the answer. God had not spoken directly to him, but the similarities in his life and the life of Christ told in the Satanic Codex were too great to be ignored. Was that why he had the power of divine intervention? Was everything he did in his life meant to prepare him for this moment?

The Sterling Killer had waited a long time for this moment of sweet revenge. Ever since he could remember, he was angry with the world. When he was a child he didn’t understand why his parents abandoned him at that God forsaken orphanage and when he found out that he had a twin brother who was not left for adoption, he resented him with all of his soul. Why did this happen to him? What did he do to deserve his fate? Was he really the Antichrist? The only way to know was to kill his twin brother. He wanted nothing more than to defeat his foe in a fair fight so that everyone would know that he was the more powerful of the two. He lifted Father John off of the ground and then pushed him stumbling towards the stage.

Father John gathered his balance and slowly turned to face the Sterling Killer. “Take off your hood and let me see your face before I kill you,” he demanded.

The Sterling Killer raised his hands to the sides of his hood and slowly pulled it back, revealing his face. It was like looking into a mirror except there was more pain on his weary face and in his dark eyes.

The Sterling Killer laughed sinisterly. This was what he had been waiting for. He knew that eventually his brother would find out about him and the Satanic Codex and that it would lead to the final confrontation between good and evil.

“I am going to exact revenge for all of humanity that has been cast out and forgotten because they are different. For all of those who are looked down upon because society is insecure and threatened by them,” the Sterling Killer told him as he flashed the sterling silver knife at Father John as he stalked him around the altar. “You’re God thinks he is better than us and leaves us to suffer on our own.”

Father John stepped in the opposite direction with his hands held up in a defensive position.

“I have been looking forward to this moment ever since I found out about you and the Satanic Codex,” the Sterling Killer said scornfully as he lunged at Father John with the outstretched knife.

Father John sidestepped him like a matador and kicked him flush in the gut with his foreleg.

The Sterling Killer keeled over with his hands on his knees as he looked over his shoulder at Father John with surprised contempt. “That was good Brother,” he congratulated him sarcastically as he tried to catch his breath. “It appears that you will be a worthy adversary.”

“It is not your fault you are the way you are,” Father John shouted over the roar of the fire as he looked at the Sterling Killer’s bedraggled face with compassion. “You are a victim of circumstance and the Devil has used your pain and suffering to fool you into doing his bidding.”

“Do not pretend that you know who I am,” he warned him scornfully. “You have no idea what I have been through. You could never comprehend what it is like to be me.”

“I know there is something good inside of you,” Father John urged him. “Repent now. It is your only chance for forgiveness.”

“I do not seek forgiveness,” he growled angrily. “I seek revenge!” He charged at Father John with the knife held above his head in a striking position. Father John braced his legs for impact, reached up and grasped him by
the wrist as they locked in a tense, face to face death dance. Father John could see the anger in the Sterling Killer’s piercing black pupils and could feel the force of his strength bearing down upon him. His arm trembled under the tension as he attempted to push the tip of the knife away, but with each passing second, it got closer to his neck. Just as he felt he was losing the battle and the knife was about to pierce his jugular, Father John stopped resisting and fell backwards, using the Sterling Killer’s momentum to pull him down. As they fell to the ground, Father John placed his knee in the Sterling Killer’s midsection and flipped him over, sending him crashing to the floor.

Father John scrambled to his feet in a defensive position expecting a counter attack only to find him lying, sprawled out on the floor next to a wall of fire. As the Sterling Killer wearily got to his feet, Father John noticed that he was no longer holding the knife. Both men looked around stunned to see the knife gleaming on the floor like a beacon between them.

“You know that you cannot win this battle,” Father John warned him between breaths as they both cautiously crept towards the knife. “Even if you kill me, God will only strike you down.”

“That is where you are wrong,” The Sterling Killer corrected him as the two men carefully circled the knife. “The only way you can stop me is to kill me before I kill you.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Father John admonished him. “You don’t have to let the story told in the Satanic Codex determine the outcome of your life. You can change how the story ends.”

“What do you think I am doing?” he retorted emphatically. “I will change the ending of this story by killing you and ending God’s reign!” he shouted with venom as both men dove for the knife sending it sliding across the stage as they wrestled and jostled for position, each man struggling frantically to get away from the other.

They grappled on the floor, their bodies twisting and contorting for position until Father John could feel that the Sterling Killer was gaining control on him. Suddenly, the Sterling Killer swung his legs up and wrapped his thighs around Father John’s neck and began to squeeze as he yanked the Father’s arm above his head in a hyper extended position and began to choke him.