an added note of pleading there that Carl hadn’t heard in either of their two visits.
“I felt so bad about everything.” Darrell Gene’s lower lip trembled with guilt. “I listened to the voices in the beginning and they told me to leave the note and send the picture. Now they‘re telling me to hurt you. To hurt all of you.”
****
Pictures of the Burroughs family at various stages in their life were scattered all around the living room. One showed Jamie and Amy getting married. Another showed them on their honeymoon, standing in front of one of the Mayan temples. Amy was pregnant in one of the photos. She held Peter in another.
Darrell Gene wasn’t used to this kind of family-friendly atmosphere, but it would have been tolerable if not for the taunting. With so many demonstrations of happiness scattered around the room like graffiti, it almost seemed like the family was flaunting their happiness in his face. And even that he could have dealt with if all of that if all of the pictures hadn’t talked to him simultaneously. The voices sounded like a hundred flies buzzing in his ears.
“We’re better than you!” Jamie mocked him from the wedding photo.
“You’re nothing but a waste of breath!” Amy added from her maternity bed.
“We wish you’d move away and never come back!” They spoke in unison as they waved to the camera from the inside of a Ferris Wheel car.
Peter spoke from his crib. “We don’t need anyone like you in this neighborhood!”
It was all too much for Darrell Gene to take.
Carl said something about the Lord, but Darrell Gene didn’t hear it. He was too busy pulling the knife out of his boot that he had used to carve up so many rebel angels.
“I wish everyone would just shut up!”
Darrell Gene caught Judith by surprise and wrenched the paintball gun out of her hand. He threw it against the wall and gave them a long, hard look at his blade.
“Darrell Gene!” Carl stood up in dismay.
“I wouldn’t advise doing anything rash.” Darrell Gene showed the deacon his knife and the devious gleam in his eyes. “Your soul may be saved, but your body is still very susceptible to pain.”
Carl nodded slowly, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. “Dear God,” he murmured.
“Pray all you want,” Darrell Gene said. “Nothing’s going to save you or these two nice ladies now.”
“Are you going to kill us like you killed Jamie?” Amy asked.
Darrell Gene ran his finger along the blade, drawing a thin pinprick of blood. “I’m not sure yet. But whatever I do, you won’t like it. Carl, be a good man and rip that phone line out of the wall. Use it to tie up G.I. Jane.”
Carl stood there a second longer than Darrell Gene was happy with. Before anyone could react, he had the knife pressed against Amy’s throat. She whimpered but wisely didn’t struggle.
“Be a lamb, Carl, and do what I told you to. You’re a Christian. You should be used to playing that role by now.”
Carl nodded slowly and grabbed one end of the phone line. With a forceful tug, he pulled it up from the baseboard and used it to wrap Judith’s hands and feet.
“Looks like you’ve done this a time or two before,” Darrell Gene said with a smile. “Maybe you’ve got a few skeletons in that closet of yours after all.”
Carl finished the knot. “I’m praying for you.
Darrell Gene stopped smiling.
Chapter 29
Through the forbidden fruit, I saw the look of righteous indignation in Darrell Gene Rankin’s eyes. I saw the impossibly sharp edge of the knife. I saw the fearlessness with which he moved about my living room, gesturing wildly with the blade as if he were some sort of teacher lecturing on the finer points of torture. I saw a vicious flute-playing demon and his horde of imps covering every inch of my house like the worst kind of pest infestation. I saw Darrell Gene grab Amy and threaten to kill her if Carl Beckett didn’t do what he was told.
Suddenly, there wasn’t time to be leisurely about my exploration of the maze. There wasn’t time to contemplate each and every turn logically and guess which way might lead to an exit. I had to get out of this place, and I had to get out quickly. Lives, not just feelings, were at stake now.
I ignored the robotic serpent’s laughter and ran from the Hall of Silicon Eden as if Asterion