“That, Ms. Freeman, was the kind of thing that could attract Owen as honey attracts bees. If such an institution as the Omega Center can actually play a part in controlling what our society will become, then it would be most beneficial to be one of the people who control the Omega Center. Owen Bennett became one of those controllers, a controller of a controller! Now he had something others would want.”
Lynch turned his chair so that he was facing Sally directly. “But of course you know all that. It’s one of the simplest principles of survival in this world: if you want to get ahead, have friends in high places.” His eyes narrowed, and a grin—it looked malicious—slowly spread on his face. “As an example, I can recall a student I had some time ago, an extremely bright young lady who actually spent several summers at the Omega Center before she started her studies here at Bentmore. She came here with a high recommendation from the Omega Center, and we were happy to give her special attention. She remained here until she earned her Master’s degree in education and then, wouldn’t you know it, she desired to return to the Omega Center and be a part of that dream.
“Fortunately, she and Owen Bennett were the closest of friends, and by that time he was on the Omega advisory board, so her position with the Omega Center was an instant reality.” He laughed and leaned on his elbows. “So you see, even as I have taught my students, it does help to have friends with influence to offer, especially in a field where you may be changing a society against its will.”
Sally smiled and jotted down some notes. He just kept staring at her.
She was finished. Very finished. All she wanted was to get out of there. “Thank you so much for your insights. I’d like to take this home now and organize it. Perhaps I can call you again?”
“Oh, just one more thing!” he insisted, gesturing for her to remain seated. “Yes, friends in the right places are important, and power is definitely a tool, but you must remember never to be too close to your friends, because any weapon, any lever you may use to gain power over others, can also be used to gain power over you unless you take necessary precautions. I know of one man, a skilled, upcoming young attorney, who allowed a lady friend of questionable background to know him just a little too well, and she later attempted to use that knowledge as a lever against him. It created a most ticklish situation! Do you understand?”
She was on the edge of her seat, ready to stand and walk out of there. “Well, yes, like blackmail, I suppose.”
He brightened at her correct answer. “Yes, that’s it exactly! In gaining power over others, you never want to rule out blackmail as one lever to get what you want or to protect yourself!” He suddenly reached into his pocket and brought out a small jewelry box. “This is why I stepped out of the office momentarily. I knew you’d be interested in this.”
He flipped it open and showed her the contents.
It was a gold ring. The same gargoyle.
Professor Lynch’s voice grew quiet and somber. “This young lawyer hired his lady friend to kill someone. Yes, that’s right, kill someone, and he paid her a large sum of money to do it. But she was subtle and clever; she stole a very personal item of his, his sacred ring, knowing that forever afterward she would be able, should she have the need, to prove that she had had an alliance with him. She wore the ring on her person when she tried to carry out the grisly deed, and we have good reason to believe she carried the money on her person as well so that, should something go wrong, she would be found with it and a connection could be made to the one who hired her. At any rate, the ring was identical to this one and, with the money, was a perfect lever to blackmail and manipulate him.”
He let her view it for just a moment, and then abandoned all cordiality when he demanded, “You do have the ring in your possession, don’t you?”
She rose to her feet but wobbled there, feeling faint, light-headed with terror. Words wouldn’t come. There weren’t any words.
“I . . . Thank you, sir,” she said, nausea washing over her. “I need to go now.”
She hurried to the door and threw it open.
The man from the waiting area! He was no longer reading a magazine—now he filled the doorway, blocking her escape!
Lynch spoke to her coldly. “This is Mr. Khull, a highly motivated individual now in our employ. We knew there was a probability you would be here next, and so we invited Mr. Khull to be on hand should it happen. Why don’t you have a seat again so we can complete this interview . . . Sally Beth Roe?”
Khull leaned toward her. She backed away until she bumped into her chair, then sank into it.
Lynch sat down and glared at her for several moments.
“So what do you hear from Jonas these days?” he finally asked.
She looked at him for the first time since she sat down. There seemed to be no reason to carry on her act. The Tennessee accent vanished. “He’s gone. I haven’t channeled him since I went to prison.”
Lynch smiled. “I imagine he felt there were more respectable people to work with, not vile, pitiful baby-killers.”
She looked down in shame and defeat. She no longer knew how to defend herself.
“Yours is a pitiful story,” said Lynch. “I had such great hopes for you. I groomed you, I honed you myself, I made you what you are—excuse me, were. You were a born leader, Sally. We were counting on you. Owen was counting on you. Such marvelous potential, such incredible spiritual connections!” He paused just to look at her forlorn frame. “But oh, how you toppled! Oh, how you fell!”
Perhaps it was hate that gave her the strength to say, “I didn’t fall far enough, I guess. That woman you were talking about, who stole the man’s ring—I take it she’s the one who tried to kill me?”
He was not at all disturbed about it. “So I’ve heard. But that brings us back to my original question: What did you do with the ring you took from your attacker’s finger?”
She couldn’t think of a good enough lie, so she said nothing.
He nodded in response. “Of course. You’re not going to tell me. As we’ve already discussed, you took it for insurance, for . . .” He couldn’t help laughing. “For leverage! Oh, Sally, as your teacher I feel condemned!” He reached over and picked up the little jewelry box, eyeing the ring inside it. “Fine, fine. You don’t have to tell me. Now that we have you, the ring doesn’t matter. But really . . .” He looked at her and laughed as if he’d seen a joke. “Why do you want to help that pitiful little teacher in Bacon’s Corner? What good could you possibly do?”
Now he circled his desk and stood above her, making her feel even smaller. “Do you feel guilty perhaps? Now, that would be so unlike you, Sally.” His voice went down in tone, and every word cut like a knife. “Since when does guilt mean anything to you, a murderous wench bereft of conscience? As for Tom Harris, you will never find a more insignificant nothing! He is garbage, like you! And what can garbage offer to garbage? Who would believe a word you said? Who would give you the time of day?” He laughed, genuinely amused. “But I can understand your infatuation with the man; you make a perfect pair: a child killer and a pedophile!”
He was trying to cut her down, and even through her weakness and torment she was beginning to resent it. “What happens now?”
He circled back around to his chair and sat down, letting her wait for an answer. “First, some advice which will probably go unheeded, but maybe not. I strongly suggest, Sally, that you abandon this escapade of yours, whatever your intentions. Find another little farm somewhere near another obscure little town, and disappear—forever.”
He seemed so relaxed. A moment passed, and nothing happened. Nothing was said.
Sally looked at him, then at the sinister Khull, and then back at Lynch again. She felt too weak to get out of the chair; she was helpless regardless of the answer to her question. “Are you going to kill me?”
He smiled. “You are one scared little waif. Well, it will be good for you. It will provide incentive for you to seriously consider your options. There
are only two: Find a deep, deep hole somewhere, Sally, and disappear into it. Let us not see your face again in this life. Or, consider your life ended altogether, perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, but most certainly.”
He nodded to Khull, who stepped away from the door. With a glance back at Sally, he released her to go.
She reached down and picked up her carry bag. Then she pushed her way out of the chair, found strength for the first step, then the next, then enough strength to get to the door.
“Sally!” Lynch called.
She wasn’t about to stop. Khull made sure she did.
“Don’t ever blame Jonas for what happened. You did it, Sally. You are the one to blame!”
“I know that, sir,” she replied.
“Disappear, Sally. Disappear!”
She went through the door, then found new strength to quicken her step down the hall to the big glass doors. She got through them.
Then she ran. Tears started to blur her eyes. With her renewing strength she realized how terrified she was. She could never wait for the elevator. She took the stairs.
TAL HAD SOME special warriors busy at a dairy far away. He needed to shake things up in a home near the Bentmore campus.
Marv and Claudia Simpson were just starting to enjoy this short stay with their daughter and son-in-law when the phone rang.
“It’s Mack, at the dairy,” his daughter Jessica said.
Marv scowled and took the phone. “Okay, Mack, break it to me gently.”
“Marv,” said Mack, “you’d better get back here. Lizzy’s getting ready to drop that calf now!”
“Now? She’s a week early!”
“And the milking machine is on the fritz too. I don’t know what’s wrong with it!”
Marv grimaced. “Oh, great!”
“And that stupid tractor won’t start for anything!”
“Doggone! Ed and I were planning to go to the ball game tonight!”
“Well, it’s your dairy. Do what you want.”
“Oh, right, sure, some choice I’ve got!” He looked at Claudia, who only shook her head in sad resignation. “All right, we’ll get going right away, but we’re going to have to drive all night.”
“Well, I’ll try to hold down the fort until you get here. Sorry to interrupt your visit.”
“Yeah . . .”
Marv hung up, questioning why God would allow such things to happen at such inopportune times.
Mota stood in the room, making sure things happened. Come, Marv, be quick about it!
KHULL TOOK A moment to relax in the same chair where Sally had sat, and listened to Professor Lynch’s side of a long-distance conversation.
“Mr. Goring, I was disappointed. She was hardly the formidable foe she seems to be in her letters. A breeze would have knocked her over. That’s right.” He listened for a moment, then forwarded a question to Khull. “How many men do you have tailing her?”
Khull answered quickly. “Five around the building, five more on the main campus walks.”
Lynch brought back an answer. “Well covered. After today, the saga of Sally Roe will be over. Yes. I’ll bring you word as soon as I know. Oh, and will you want the ring back?” He chuckled. “I guess I can always flush it down the toilet. Then Bardine and his ring will be together!” He took some time to laugh at that wisecrack, and apparently Goring was laughing at it too.
Khull laughed for about half the time, then stopped abruptly.
Lynch started his good-bye. “Very well, then. Happy to be of service. Yes. Give my regards to everyone at Summit. Yes, I’ll see you all at the conference. All right. Good-bye.” He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. “Oh, such a nasty business!” He looked at Khull. “But I suppose you Satanists take it all in stride?”
“We are all killers at heart, Professor Lynch.”
“Well, I hope you just do it quickly, and spare me the details!”
“It’s too bad you let her go.”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t want it happening anywhere near here. I can’t let anyone in this office suspect I had anything to do with it.”
“Well, maybe you thought she was weak and helpless, but it looks like she was still clever enough to rip you off.”
Lynch looked toward Khull, then followed his gaze to the bookshelf behind the desk.
Khull announced even as Lynch noticed it, “Looks like she took your rosters.”
The four volumes that bore the strange symbol of the snarling gargoyle were gone, leaving a distressing gap.
“DESTROYER!” SAID TAL, and all the warriors looked. Yes, there he was, swooping over the campus like a huge, black hawk. “He’ll take her this time!”
Guilo pointed with his sword to a huge, black shape rising from the Administration Building. “Corrupter! He’s slow, but he sees well!”
“Keep him busy and out of our business!” Then Tal started barking orders as warriors shot into the sky in all directions. “Scion, decoys! Chimon, stay with her. Signa, back him up! Nathan, Armoth, block the bus stop! Cree and Si, set screens!”
LYNCH GRABBED KHULL’S arm. He was desperate. “Khull, make sure your men succeed! They must succeed!”
Khull looked at Lynch, then at the gap in the bookshelf, and smiled a wicked smile. “Hm. You must be pretty scared.”
DESTROYER COULD SEE a tiny, frightened figure bursting out of Whitcombe Hall. “Hmm. So how strong are you now, Captain Tal? We will make you show us.” He called to his captains, “Take her!”
“There she is!” said one thug to his partner. He’d spotted Sally running from Whitcombe Hall, heading south toward the nearest bus stop. It was dark. They could take her into any of the gardens, alleyways, or groves and finish her instantly.
They were large, burly men, heavily tattooed; one had a deep scar on his left cheek; both wore a large earring in one ear. Beneath their dark leather coats, they carried the shining silver tools of ritual death.
The second one put a portable radio to his jaw and muttered, “She’s—”
He was about to say which direction she was going, but suddenly she was gone.
Both men bolted from their hiding-place and stood in the middle of the walkway. Sally Roe had vanished.
CREE AND SI stood directly in front of them, wings outstretched. Behind them, Sally continued to run south.
A shriek from the sky! The two warriors shot a glance south. Sally was dashing down some steps, dropping out of sight. Above them, four demon warriors dropped like falcons. Cree and Si bolted, one this way, one that, disappearing in a flash of light into the buildings on either side of the walkway. The demons went after them.
“The woman!” screamed Destroyer from the sky. “Get the woman!”
The demons spun in tight circles, their red blades streaming fire, and kicked the two men in their backs. Move! This way! Then they shot down the campus, the walls, windows, and walkways a blur on either side, their black wings screaming.
The two thugs ran after them.
“She was heading south,” the man barked into his radio.
CORRUPTER ROSE ABOVE the campus with the agility of a hot air balloon, watching the incredible spectacle on every side. He spotted Sally and pointed. “There! There—do you see her?”
A bolt of light came from somewhere, delivering such a blow to his head that he tumbled backward, end over end, like a helpless, spinning beach ball, wailing and howling.
Guilo knew he’d be out of the way for a while. He darted away with other things to do.
Sally took only a few seconds to duck into some shrubs and retrieve her hidden duffel bag. She jammed her carry bag into it and continued running.
She rounded a corner near the Psych Library, saw the bus stop illuminated by an amber street lamp, dashed that way, slipped and stumbled to a stop, and dashed back the other way.
The bus stop was covered. Somehow she knew who those two men were.
Run! said Nathan. The other way!
Armoth took the blows fr
om the two demons guarding the bus stop just long enough to slow them down. They didn’t want him—they wanted Sally Roe.
TWO MORE NORMAL-LOOKING killers were at their post by the Memorial Fountain. One saw through the vertical jets of water and spotted the woman running north toward the Sculpture Garden.
“Heading north!” he barked into his radio. “The Sculpture Garden!”
SALLY WAS HEADING west—not north—toward the Physical Sciences Building when she ducked behind a tree to hide from four fierce-looking characters running north toward the Sculpture Garden. As soon as they had passed, she headed west again.
“WHERE’D SHE GO?” a killer asked, looking this way and that.
The Sculpture Garden contained plenty of weird sculptures in stone and steel, but no fleeing woman.
SCION, LOOKING LIKE himself again, took wing and swooped out of the Sculpture Garden with four black bats hot on his tail. As soon as he cleared the roofs, still trailing a stream of light, Si crossed that stream with a searing trail of his own and drew aside two of the demons. At least these buzzards would be busy for a while.
SALLY RAN PAST the Physical Sciences Building, over a plaza, and then down a long flight of concrete stairs to the busy street below. A taxi was approaching. She waved furiously. “Taxi! Taxi!”
Two men, looking like any other university students, spotted her and started her way.
The cab driver thought he saw someone trying to flag him.
Two demons dropped through the roof and clawed through his brain.
Huh? Eh, she isn’t there . . . Now where was I going, anyway?
The taxi drove by, swerving from lane to lane, not slowing. Sally bolted into an alley.