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And a part of me, deep down inside, where my own shadows hide…
Hopes I never find my way out again.
Epilogue
Jude
Lifting the tall, overweight man with a black cloth bag over his head from the bed of the pickup truck, I toss him over my shoulder.
Then I check out at the old barn we’ve set up as one of our temporary workarounds for when we need to question people.
We’ve got a couple of places set up, but so far nothing as permanent as the warehouse was. Even the old motel has been removed from our list.
Far from the city, the closest neighbors are a couple miles away. This place gives us plenty of privacy.
And we need privacy right now. Privacy and security. The surprise attack has us all on edge.
No matter how we look at it, we were caught with our pants down, and it showed. We lost a brother, and a lot of us suffered wounds that weren’t just physical.
The man on my shoulder starts to gag from the cloth shoved in his mouth. Jostling him to be quiet, I slam the tailgate shut.
There’s only one other vehicle in the driveway, and that’s good. This is a small gathering tonight.
The others don’t need to be involved in this.
Walking to the closed door on the side of the building, I turn my body quickly so that the lump of shit on my shoulder slams his head into the door.
For good measure, I slam him two more times.
Simon opens the door and shakes his head with a tight smile. “Let me guess, he didn’t come willingly?”
“Do they ever?”
At that, he laughs a genuine laugh. “No, I don’t believe they do.”
Simon opens the door fully and comes out to hold it as I walk into the dimly lit interior.
Inside the barn, I look at the setup and can’t help but grin.
The little voices that dance inside my skull shout their own laughter.
There, in the middle of the barn, lying down on the floor, is a large wooden Cross of Saint Peter.
Even from here, I can feel the intent and purpose of that cross radiating towards me. Unlike a normal cross, the Cross of Saint Peter is meant to hang upside down.
“Since this barn is pretty fucking isolated, I’ve got Harold about a mile and a half out,” Johnathan says with a nod to me. “How’s the wife doing?”
“Good.” I grin back.
It’s odd that the men have so wholly welcomed me into the most inner of circles now that I’m married. But I suppose it’s not exactly mysterious… It’s more, once you’re married, you’re tied to the family in an inescapable way.
“Little Abel?” asks Gabriel.
“Even better.” I can’t help but feel warmth at the thought of my son. “He said his first word two days ago—Dada.”
All three of the men congratulate me as we move the bound man from my shoulder down to the cross.
“How’d Eden take it?” Johnathan asks with a laugh.
