Fri, 27 January 2006  Chapter 18 - RevelationComments[0] |
Fri, 27 January 2006 Chapter 17: Everything is Different Now (Where?)
After Father Augustine had finished he bolted through the prison doors to his truck, put it in first and flew out the open front gates. He needed to find Bradley, but there were many water edges to check and San Pablo bay was very large. He turned down the frontage road that split the freeway and the edge of the bay, and noticed several people staring and pointing toward the smoky walls of the prison. The waterfront home owners, who were adjacent to the prison, were all out peering across the water looking at the aftermath of what had just happened. He softly said out loud, 'Oh LORD, help me to find the lad. I need you now.' Then he noticed several of the home owners grouped together at the end of the dock which ran along behind the housing row. They were lifting someone out of the water. He sped as fast as he could towards the foot of the dock, and brought his truck to a dusty stop. He jumped out and ran over to the immerging man, and thanked the LORD as he saw a shaved head. They pulled Bradley out by both arms. He was gasping for air, but looked surprisingly intact. Enoch noticed that the facial cuts Brad had were now gone, as if he had been washed clean or renewed. For a moment Brad knelt on one knee letting the water fall from his body to the old splintery dock. Father Augustine stood bent over with his hands upon his knees, squinting as he waited for Bradley to catch his breath. He didn't have any idea what to say. He couldn't find the words. For the first time in a loooong time Augustine only had his gut to help him decide. Bradley had heard the priest's foot steps coming towards him across the dock. To him, they sounded like a clock pendulum. He wanted to close his eyes before he saw the priest, shake his head, and wake up. But he mysteriously felt the importance of the moment and his fear began to subside. He could see Augustine's shoe tops in front of him as he continued to stare downwards. Brad tried to align his thoughts before he looked up and acknowledged who he already knew was there. As Father Augustine had bent, his robe over lapped his shoes and came into view confirming his identity, and Bradley slowly raised his vision to meet the priest's. They stared silently at each other. Father Augustine confirmed, "This is very real Bradley. That's as much as I know, son." Brad remained silent, but the priest knew his words hit home. "We must get out of here; now." He slowly reached his hand out, and Brad took it. After he had risen they ran back to the still running truck, and sped to the highway going south. They remained silent for a moment; Brad still out of breath, and soaked, and Augustine still out of words. It was an awkward feeling in the truck. The two would trade stares, but still no words. Father Augustine broke the silence, "Let us give thanks." Bradley closed his eyes in immediate acknowledgement as Augustine continued, "Dear LORD thank You for Your grace. Like Daniel You have delivered us from the lion's den. We take this event as further confirmation of our tasking." Brad glimpsed at the priest who was already starring right back. Their eyes stayed locked on each other, "Help us to know what is next." he said almost to himself trailing off. The last comment confused Brad, and he wanted to ask what the hell was going on, and as he began to, the radio got hold of a signal and a newscaster's voice came through. Augustine scrambled to turn it up. "Greetings listeners, we have some of the most incredible breaking news to report." It was the lady newscaster they had heard throughout the morning. "We have reports from several different sources, which include some conflicting info. I can tell you that there is one thing we are certain of, and that is the presence of mass-confusion folks." You could feel the severity in her voice, "The following is a previously taped phone briefing from Mayor McCain:" The Mayor began, “Late this morning, at approximately 10:30 AM, a large explosion rocked the bayside walls of The San Quentin Maximum Security Prison. We believe this to be the acts of a terrorist cell sympathetic to certain occupants of the facility.� Random newscaster interjected, “Was anyone hurt?� McCain responded promptly, “Yes, unfortunately many prisoners and prison employees were fatally injured in the blast. Most beyond recognition in the short term, but we are working on identifying them as we speak.� Random newscaster, once again, “Is anyone identifiable?� “Yes, but we are abstaining from disclosure until the families are first notified,� McCain explained. “Are you aware of the status of Bradley Harris, Mayor?� McCain paused a little off guard with the question, “We are not, but have been informed that he was in close proximity to the blast, and cannot be found. This leads us to expect the worst for Mr. Harris.� Random newscaster continued with the questioning, “Were there any escapees?� “No, there were not. No one made it out of the wall, and all bodies are accounted for.� “Then Mayor, can you explain how the five guards with bullet wounds died?� No response, “Three with point blank shotgun wounds, but more specifically two killed at long range in perched guard towers... outside.� The random newscaster had made checkmate. Then there was that recognizable dead radio silence, and the world could hear McCain squirm for about 5 seconds. McCain: I have no further comments... (click) The live broadcast continued, and the familiar newswoman's voice returned "Again, that was Mayor McCain via phone. Commenting on the events that went on at San Quentin... A facility which is in Marin County... that he has no jurisdiction over. We're looking into that too.� Father Augustine, and Bradley were floored. It was obvious there were many forces at work here. It was apparently after the Mayor's announcement that he and other elite members must be conspiring about something. There was too much misconduct, and it went deep enough to get into the prison system. This meant it could go all the way up. Bradley and Augustine's minds began to reel. The radio broke the silence, “Now we have another on-location report. What you are about to hear is a testimonial of someone who was present at the events that took place at San Quentin. This report came in eleven minutes before the mayor's update, and is anything but typical.� The previous random newscaster's voice came back on, “Sir, can you state your name please?� A voice, familiar to Brad and Augustine, came from the radio, “My name is William Howe. I am the warden of San Quentin Maximum Security Prison.� The newsman picked up with the same tempo, “Where were you during the explosion sir?� Howe sounds very shaken, “I was in the immediate area, about twenty yards from the wall, in an observation room bordering the mess hall, which is where the event took place.� “Did you have a good vantage point from where you were standing Mr. Howe? Did you see anybody approach the wall previous to the explosion?� Howe, still sounding jaded, “No, my eyes were closed.� The newsman was caught off guard, “Your eyes were closed?� Howe explained further, “Yes, I was in prayer, so my eyes were closed until right before the explosion happened.� “Mr. Howe, can you explain to us what went on, and how it became that you were praying?� a startled tone came over the newsman's voice. At this point Howe stopped. The newscaster retracted his tone of voice, “Go on Mr. Howe. This needs clarification.� Howe's silence puzzled Brad and Augustine, “I want the listeners to turn up their radios. I cannot stress the importance of my message. I know that most will not believe me, but none of this is made up. I swear this upon my son's grave. Everything I have for you is very brief. I swear I will tell you all that I know, because I do not have much to tell. I… I was only there. It's like a dream where I am starting to forget certain bits. Random newscaster, trying to keep calm in the wake of mounting confusion, continued to urge him on, “We are listening intently Mr. Howe. The air is all yours.� Howe forced himself to go on, “During a newly required Retrospective Incident Meeting, a large group of guards and I had been abruptly approached by Father Augustine. He had entered unannounced into the meeting room through another door, and he plainly told us upon entering the room unannounced, that the 'end of days' was at hand, and that there was little time left to have a personal relationship with Jesus.� Howe waited for any kind of response, but there was none, just dead silence only further confirmed that his story was not starting off well. He continued, "The group of guards as a whole was very confused why they were being approached and told this, as was I. This is when a group of prisoners became unsettled, which added to our mounting confusion.� “What was happening in the outside room?� the newsman inquired. “Another priest, a black one, was attempting to convert certain prisoners. I can only assume this was in line with the other priest's apocalyptic warning.� Howe paused, and collected his memory, “The guards began to beckon to the worsening quarrel outside. Due to certain circumstances earlier, I strangely began to believed the Priest, so I tried to pacify them to no avail. At that moment Father Augustine reached into his tunic and retrieved..." Howe hesitated and dropped off to silence. The random newsman, as well at the listeners including Bradley, were hanging on the edge of their seats, “Please go on sir.� The newsman, eager for more, coaxed. Howe remained silent. Random Newsman pleaded, “Please, sir.� Howe pensively returned, “Sorry… this is where people will think I'm lying.� The newsman tried to comfort Howe, “Sir, I don't think anything you could possibly say is any more out of the ordinary than the day's previous events.� Howe seemed to speak to himself, “It's so silly, but I'm worried about my family.� The newsman continued to further comfort him, “Mr. Howe I can assure you that there is no one here to judge you.� Those were the exact words Howe needed to hear, “The priest pulled out and shone a cross burning of flame and emitting intense light.� The newsman had been outdone. The air was completely silent. Howe waited for a response for several seconds. All the newsman could rattle off was: I… I… I don't… Bradley looked at Augustine who again was already staring back wondering how Brad would except the news. He knew this all would be hard for Bradley to comprehend. Augustine had lived in the visible glory of the LORD for years upon years, and he was still had trouble understanding. Warden Howe continued with renewed vigor and a louder voice, “Floating about a half an inch above his palm was a three inch cross made solely of fire. Its magnificent luminescence dwarfed that of all surrounding light in the room. It’s presence was like nothing I have ever seen or felt before in all my days. This, and its miraculous state of suspension, stopped every single man in that room dead in their tracks, including myself. Many fell to their knees, and some covered their face, crying uncontrollably. That is when the Priam brothers entered the mess hall, and when Bradley Harris arrived down stairs.� The Random newscaster was stunned silent. He couldn't even think of a question to ask about this flaming cross, but Bradley's name, as well as the Priam's, brought him back, and he shakily continued, this time in a more serious tone “So… Mayor McCain was correct… in believing that Bradley was near the blast?� Howe did not answer directly, but continued where he had just stopped, “At this point all guards in the observation room we quelled in fear. I had started praying immediately once the Priest unveiled the flaming cross. Then,� Howe spoke vaguely as he seemed to be recalling, “I had heard a very loud sound come from the mess hall which I vaguely remember. I recall it because it was followed by a shotgun blast, and the Far East door was kicked open by Hector Priam… and Franc stood at his side. Franc called out to Bradley by name, and this seemed to draw the Priest's attention.� Random newsman, “Which one? The priest in the room with the… fla-ming cross… or the black one in the mess hall?� Howe answered, “Both actually, but the priest in my room returned his cross to his cloak, and exited the observation room into the mess hall.� The newsman asked, “What were the prisoners doing?� “They seemed to be confused because they made no move once the Priams entered the picture.� “And Bradley?� “He was still at the bottom of the stairs handcuffed, and the Priest left our room and entered his. The white priest, Fr. Augustine, stopped in front of Bradley, and motioned for the black priest to come over. They seemed to know each other, and spoke of the happening events as if they were planned.� “Could you make out what they were saying? Did it have anything to do with a bomb?� Howe, continuing to just tell his story, “A strange silence crept, and there was no sound except for the priests voices. They mentioned things I could not understand and then said good bye…� Howe dropped off, and silence filled the radio once again leaving everyone hanging. The newsman, more eagerly now, “Mr. Howe, did the explosion come next?� Howe sounded hesitant, and spoke to himself softly, “I know it was real I was there. I know what I saw.� He was convincing himself to go; almost prepping himself. The newsman about to die, but ever-so-calmly and slowly, “Mr. Howe, go on please.� “I'm sorry. I have always been a pretty plain man. Though I personally am religious I like to see things before I believe them. Now that I look back on my life I really never believed. At least believing never felt like this. Now I have seen it, and there is no doubt in my mind.� The newsman switched his approach, “Whenever you're ready William.� Howe slightly laughed, the newsman asked, “Where's the reaction coming from William?� Howe replied, “All of your comments have meanings that are completely different to me now. It's not you. It's just that my outlook is different. Everything is different now.� He sighed lengthily, “I guess I don't care who believes me.� Still talking to himself. He cleared his throat and blurted, “After they quickly said good bye the black priest stepped upon the table, and with a flick of his wrist and unforeseen power the mess hall table rose up and slammed through the side wall killing everyone seated, and many bystanders, and exposing the mess hall to the walled grounds outside.� Now the random newsman was completely without words. “Bradley was still standing at the bottom of the stairs in front of the priest. The priest was looking at Bradley, and at that point I could tell that was his reason for coming. A set of guards came in bearing arms to control the situation, I think. They pointed their weapons and tried to regain order. Again, with powers I have not seen or knew existed, the white priest raised his hands and the guard's weapons were torn from their grasp, floated in mid-air, and pointed at chest level.� The familiar news lady's voice came on, “Mr. Howe this is anchor Nancy Rock, I think you have successfully silenced my co-anchor, as well as everyone else here in the office. Please continue the story at your own pace unto the end.� Howe went on, “The Priest, now with total command of the room spoke loudly to the people around him. He introduced himself with a couple of different names, which all meant nothing to me, but he called himself The Shepherd. He began to preach like I have never seen before. His voice was intense, and bellowed louder than any voice I have ever heard. He prophesied that the end was near and that everyone needed to receive Jesus.� News lady Nancy sounded off, “What were the prisoner's reactions?� Howe answered, “They all unanimously answered to him 'AMEN.' It sounded like I was at the Giants game. It sounded as if from the masses. The unanimity of the prisoner's response forced half of the guards to their knees in freight and awe. They begun to beg forgiveness, and pray like children. At this point The Shepherd gave them their last warning.� Howe became silent. Newscaster Nancy prodded, “Then?� Howe sighed unhappily, “The Shepherd lowered his left hand and pointed it at Bradley's cuffs, and once again with divine power unknown to me, separated Bradley's handcuffs sending the chain links in every direction…� Howe paused, “and discharged the floating shotguns.� Newscaster Nancy didn't improve on the previous newsmans performance, “Umm… uhhhh…. and…� You could hear the energy leaving Howe, “The priest said something to or at Bradley. Bradley began sprinting across the hall, but was lifted from the ground and flew, suspended in air, through the exposed hole in the wall. This is when the two sniper guards got their sites on Bradley. I could not see, but from what I have been told he jumped with, seemingly super strength, over the south wall of the prison, into San Pablo bay.� “My God,� Nancy thought the account was over. Howe proceeded, “At this point I stood up. Somehow my instinct as the warden surfaced, and I ran into the mess hall. Franc and Hector were no where to be found, and I can only assume they fled in fear. The black priest lay dead on the ground appearing to be fatally wounded by the table's explosive contact. I stared at The Shepherd, and he back at me with an intense look. He looked right through me, and when we locked stares all I could do was cry, and fall to my knees.� “What happened next.� I seemed to go into a trance, and must have passed out. When I awoke everyone of the prisoners were dead.� “Was it the explosion?� “No. The ones that were obviously not killed by the explosion had no wounds. No explanation to their fatality. I had called for back up, but was in no shape to be in my position of control. I could only sit on the ground, and wait for anyone else to arrive.� “Was anyone alive besides you?� Yes. I don't understand why, but only I, the guards who remained in the drawing room, and three guards who had fallen to their knees on the second floor were still alive, but each and everyone of us was in the same condition.� “Then what?� “Then we all sat next to each other on the cement floor. No matter what our religion had been, and prayed together to Jesus. That was it. Now I'm calling you.� “So all of you are there?� “No some of the guards had followed through with a body count, and came up two short, which usually is the two guard towers we have outside along the south wall. When the towers were searched, both guards were found dead, with bullet holes in their heads. Dead center.� “They had been shot? Do you think it was Bradley during his escape, or the priests earlier?� “No, I am positive it was not them.� “What leads you to believe that?� The bullet holes were shaped like, well… I guess like an old style key hole� Newscaster Nancy, “What was that?� “That's the closest description I can come up with. The wound was a bit wider at the top, and thinned at the bottom. “Are you sure the guards were shot?� “No, actually we don't think they were shot at all.� “Now I'm confused Mr. Howe. I believe you said the two guards in the tower were shot. You said dead center I believe. I, apparently, do not understand.� “Neither do I Ms. Rock.� “Can you help me out here a little William? Everything is so confusing, and it's kind of running together. Can you expand on what you found in the sniper towers a little more?� “After checking the sniper towers we found both guards dead. We are positive it was a bullet, because we found a single blood stained bullet inside both sniper towers, and the backs of their heads had been blown out. The key hole entry wound make us think that the bullet had to be traveling end over end, which is not how a bullet is fired. It was more like a sling-shot effect, or as if it had been thrown by hand at a high velocity.� “That is very strange. How…� “What is even more strange is the fact a human skull can only be penetrated and blown out the back by something equivalent or more powerful than a strong rifle, or gun.� “Okayyyyy,� Nancy didn't seem to catch on. “It is physically impossible for a gun to fire a bullet end over end and keep it's speed and trajectory.� “Mr. Howe, do you have any hypothesis on what has happened? It obviously wasn't thrown by hand.� Nancy asked, and Howe went silent. “Mr. Howe?� “Yes, actually that is the only possibility that we have come up with yet,� You could tell Howe knew no one believed him. Especially not the newscaster, even though she had to seem interested. “What leads the team to believe this one,� Nancy asked cynically. “We checked the guard's rifles in the towers, and each had fire off one single round at Bradley during his escape.� “Un-huh.� “The bullets found in each tower were unmistakably determined, by simple forensics, to have been fired from each one's own rifle.�
Howe paused. Nancy remained silent in utter confusion. Howe clarified, “They had been killed by the very bullets they had just fired. The rifles were still in their hands. Bullets were still warm.� Category: novel text -- posted at: 4:09 AM Comments[0] |
Mon, 16 January 2006  Chapter 17 - Everything is Different Now
Direct download: Chapter_17_-_Everything_is_Different_Now.mp3 Category: podiobook -- posted at: 12:17 AM Comments[0] |
Mon, 16 January 2006 Chapter 16: Only Through the Lamb (Where?)
Brad flinched as the last stitch was inserted into his scalp. The doctor, who remained mostly silent during the whole procedure, now turned off the bright fluorescent light which had been blinding Bradley the whole time. As his vision came back, the dark silhouette filled with color, and the doctor's face came into view. It was an old man who, Brad guessed from his withered yet unfragile look, had been making house calls there for a while now.A guard had lackadaisically been keeping watch on Brad from the back of the small "operating room" they were in. As the doctor surveyed his work the guard said, "You should thank God you didn't end up like the other guy. Two more seconds and..." "We should thank God for a lot of things." the doctor calmly corrected. Brad looked at the doctor who remained rather concentrated on the task at hand, and went back to being silent after he chimed in. Almost as if no one else was in the room, and he had said nothing. Bits and pieces were starting to come back to Brad. He started replaying the day's events back in his mind, and anger started to set in. The mix of having to sit still in the chair, being confined to a prison, and not having his son was chipping away at his will, making every moment and every further thought increasingly unbearable. The circumstances were so incredibly intense that the world seemed like a dream to Brad, and he was just along for the ride. His body ached for sleep, and he â??no longer wasâ?? in control. The doctor finished up and removed his gloves, "He's all fixed up." "All right, up!" the guard sternly ordered. Brad rose to his feet, and instinctively went to touch his wound. The doctor slapped Brad's hand and said, "You'll be fine in an hour." At that moment Bradley noticed a flash upon the doctor's chest. Another cross? How coincidental Brad thought as things only became more surreal. With that the doctor exited the room, and Brad was left solo with the guard. The guard once again cuffed his hands, this time in the front, and embarked toward Brad's cell. At this point Brad could start to reflect on the day's events, but he was still in a state of utter disorientation and unable to cope emotionally. He felt like a ghost. As the guard led him out of the room, down a short walkway, and to a desk and door which bordered the main food hall, Brad looked down upon a large chunk of the prisoners eating lunch. He immediately noticed two rows of long metal cafeteria style pic-nic tables, with the benches attached. Everyone sat segmented by race. Whites, blacks, latinos, & several other "groups" could be distinguished apart from each other easily. It was a little weird, but Brad remembered this kind of thing touched upon in movies and such. He then noticed a priest. The priest was a black man who was vigorously communicating with another black prisoner who wore a solid black skull cap signifying his Islamic association. What Brad initially thought was arguing started to appear as pleading. The priest had been animated with his hands pointing to different areas of the prison and at times its members. He wore a distressed look upon his face, and each response was more agitated. Also surprising to Brad was the fact that a humongous Aryan looking prisoner had his arms folded sporting several association based tattoos of his own, and was nodding along with whatever the priest was arguing. The priest then reached out and grabbed the black prisoner's forearm, turned it over, and placed his finger upon a crescent moon and star that had been tattooed upon his arm. The priest poked the tattoo rapidly as he continued his intense communications. The prisoner wrenched his arm out of the priest's grasp angrily, raised a pointed finger and furiously aimed it back at the priest as he yelled. By this time the whole place was watching them. This was strange but the shocking thing was the fact that all the prisoners were totally silent and their attention was completely on the three. They resembled a group of school kids quietly onlooking as a fellow classmate gets scolded. The prisoners seemed to be worried. The black prisoner continued to become more irate with each word. He then placed his finger on a tattoo of a swastika that covered the majority of the white prisoner's upper arm, and then back at his Islamic crescent apparently making some sort of comparison. The large white man immediately became very serious and tensely glared at the black prisoner and slowly unfolded his arms. There was a moment while the room held its breath wondering what the Aryan might utilize his free arms for. He then placed his fingertips on his tattoo and proceeded to drag his claws down the swastika deeply penetrating the skin and producing thick visible streams of blood instantaneously. Both the priest and the prisoner were dumbfounded. The large white man seemingly yelled back at the black man in refute. He waved his bloody index, and then turned to the others in the room and hollered some type of message as his dripping hand motioned intensely. At this moment the door blocking Brad from the mess hall slid open with a red flashing light and sharp abrupt siren-like sound. Nothing could have gained more attention. Brad was now one level up and the center of everyone's attention. He could now hear clearly and watched as the bloody Aryan, who's attention also had turned to Brad, took a moment; and then turned back and yelled, "Father forgive me! Only through your son shall I be forgiven for what I have done!" and he knelt and bowed his head in front of the Priest seemingly in response to Brads entrance. The room remained silent, and now everyone's eyes were switching back between the penitent prisoner, and Bradley. The priest froze and stared at Bradley as if he were a ghost. Brad also noticed a drastic change in the black prisoner's state. He looked just as scared as the priest. Brad's guard had not noticed anything until this point, and was also quite confused. The priest's eyes remained locked on Bradley in awe, but he slowly raised his hand and placed it on the white man's head, and began with a trembling voice, â??Father Almighty, forgive and bless this man. Recognize his faith, and wash away his sins. Though, he has little time left, help him to embrace your word, and to be born again in your love and forgivenessâ?¦â?? As the priest started to pray several outburst from the crowd could be heard. Some confused, others scared, and some very angry. These cries multiplied rapidly with retorts and come backs. Bradley still had no idea what had just gone on, but the groups he had noticed prior seemed to fester and their reaction was very mixed. Brad started to make out anti-religious comments, and also arguments themed with white supremacy and other types of racism and nationalism. Some got up from their seats. One could not imagine a more confusing state than the one Bradley was already in, but this topped it. He looked around in shock, and then noticed that several prisoners of different race gathered around the priest, and knelt down next to the bleeding white man wanting blessings also. The black prisoner knelt next to the Aryan. He snatched his headdress from his brow and tossed it to the ground. The Aryan raised his head, and tears could be seen streaming down his cheeks. He then held out his bloody hand, and with no more reluctance in his heart the black man grasped it. Then they both bowed there heads. The chain continued, and more commotion set in. Bradley continued to survey the room. He noticed a window looking into an office that lay directly below the operating room he had just come from. He saw a couple of guards, some superiors, and Warden Howe all inside. The guards and others were all seated staring towards the front of the room, as if they were in class. Warden Howe sat upon the front of a desk with his arms folded calmly looking back at the guards in the room. No one seemed to be speaking. Then a door at the back of the room opened, and another Priest walked through. He was an average size man with dark gray hair, and he wore thin framed glasses which gave him a classic scholarly look, and he looked quite serious, as did the other occupants in the room. The guard that had been carting Brad to his cell had redirected his attention to the commotion in the mess hall. He grabbed his two-way, â??Hey this is Buddy. We have an issue in the meal room. I have no idea what the fuck is going on but Father Coleman is down in the middle of it.â?? â??Come again Buddy. What's goin' on?â?? another guard responded. â??I don't fuckin' know. We got the peckerwoods and a bunch of the other guys joining hands. Looks like a frickin mass baptism or something. We got the lunch crew raisin' hell, and it looks like a fight, and Syrus is bleedin' all over himself, but he's hand and hand withâ?¦" he became overwhelmed, "where the fuck are you guys?!?!? Get in here.â?? Buddy, the guard, exclaimed, a little shaken up. â??We're in the drawing room down stairs.â?? Answered the other side. Buddy, and Bradley turned to look through the downstairs window, and could see the guard on the other line looking through the window at the mess with a two-way in front of his mouth. Then the priest, who had just entered the room, said something that caught the guard's attention. The guard looked confuse, and Warden Howe nodded and pointed his finger sternly at an empty chair. The guard looked even more confused, and then returned to his seat. Buddy asked again, â??Jeff, what the hell are you doin'? Get the fuck out here, it's about to hit the fan right now.â?? With this Buddy grasped the rifle that had been slung over his shoulder, and aimed it impulsively at the worsening crowd. He turned to Brad, â??Stay fucking put! You don't want to fuck with me, and you especially don't want to fuck with what ever is going on down there.â?? With that the guard took off towards the stairwell. Now a lot of strange and intense moments had come about throughout Brad's day, and this added to the list, but he could not help but notice that he was alone for the first time. He was on the, currently abandoned, second floor cat walk, and everyone was below him. Two thoughts entered into Bradley's mind at this moment. Gregory and escape. All the confusion, and surrealism that Brad had been enveloped in shattered right away. His mind tuned, and the commotion seemed to disappear. The sounds around him softened to background noise, and his eyes began to scan his environment for any way out. The drawing room. He stared at it unbelieving, but noticed that the occupants had begun to argue, which meant that they were probably all aware of the building tension outside in the mess hall. Brad had to make it through the door that the new priest had come through. Hopefully the guards would eventually beckon to Buddy's call and spill out of the room leaving the doors unmanned. An escape through the drawing room was undoubtedly the only way. Brad, with hands still cuffed, started down the second floor walkway towards the stairwell to the first floor dining room. He got half way there, and looked toward Syrus, and saw that the prayer chain had grown incredibly. Now over half the room was kneeling. Brad stopped dead in his tracks. Pictures of the flashing crosses shot into his mind. He bowed his head in prayer. He asked the Lord for strength and grace. He would not be able to make it through the drawing room without them. He took a deep breath and started down the stairway. As he made his way down he looked in the drawing room and saw that commotion had set in. The guards were now standing and crowding the front of the room, and some were now brandishing their weapons. Warden Howe was trying to hold them back. The gray haired priest was remaining silent. He reached into his pocket looking as if he were retrieving something. At that moment Warden Howe moved blocking Brad's direct view of the priest's pocket. A yellowish light shone on the priest's face like that of a flash light pointed towards someone's eyes, but the light danced across the priest's face indicating a slight flicker. Undoubtedly whatever the Priest had pulled from his pocket was the origin of the light, and Bradley became transfixed on what was going on. Then every guard in the room was completely frozen in awe of whatever the priest was holding. At this point Brad's foot hit the bottom floor, with the drawing room to his right, the unsettled crowd to his front, and he was no longer isolated from anything. The prisoners were continuing to choose sides. More joining the penitent group of kneelers, and others becoming confused or angry. The yelling got louder, and was turning into shoving. Brad was still peering towards the drawing room. Some guards had a look of complete amazement on their face, and some also looking genuinely scared. The thought of moving closer went through Brad's mind, and his desire to find out what the priest held drove him to start for the, still closed, door. At that very moment a tremendous thundering sound of impact came from a solid white windowless door at the bottom of the staircase to his left that Brad had not noticed, and echoed loudly throughout the hall. The door seemed to be of the heavy duty type, probably created to withstand any sort of human breach, and on Brad's side there was no handle. The thump was loud enough to draw Brad's attention as well as the black priest's and many of the silent prisoners. Another loud sound emitted, and bits of the metal material, that the door was made of, crumbled to the ground, and was blown away leaving small holes and breaks in the area where the door handle would have been. Now the black priest stopped praying, and was now fully concentrated on the noise, Brad's attention was also on the door to his left and no longer on the drawing room. The guards were still in a trance like state, but the gray haired priest had also somehow heard the sound, and wore a growing look of worry upon his face as he also stared at the white handle-less door, waiting. Then the door rocketed open with a loud breaking noise. Three men could be seen through the doorway. The first, a guard with a discharged shotgun at door-handle level. Next, a tall strong built man clothed in a police chief uniform whose leg was extended in the air showing his as the one which kicked opened the door. Finally, a man stood staring angrily through the doorway with a filthy evil look on his face, and clenched fists by his side. â??Where do you think you're going Bradley?â?? The final man asked, to Brad's ultimate shock. â??Chief Priam?â?? The black priest exclaimed sounding incredibly distraught. Everyone and everything stopped. That name meant a lot of different things to a lot of different people in that place. That name was known. Bradley remained frozen not knowing what was going on in any sense at all. He was surrounded by opposition in every angle. There was no way out, and he did not know what to expect, how the man knew him, or how to respond except to just stand there motionless. Bradley's mind tried to tell him to turn to his original escape, and when he looked towards the drawing room every guard was kneeling. Some were crying, and holding their faces in their palms, and other were praying. Some were holding their arms out as if to embrace something. Warden Howe was now also kneeling and intently praying; head bowed with his eyes closed. The strange light had grown brighter, and was now illuminating the walls, brighter than the lights around the room. The gray haired priest had turned towards the door, and he opened it. Now silence did not 'seem' to set in. It actually did. Every sound, even those of nature, stopped except for the footsteps of the priest. Everyone in the room was as if they were mute. The priest slowly walked through the drawing room doorway, and stared at Hector and Franc across the mess hall. The two brothers glared at the priest, acknowledging him as foe. He slowly turned to the black priest, and pointed towards the cinderblock wall that was opposite the stair case and across the room from where Bradley was currently at. Bradley still had no grasp of what was happening. The black priest quietly walked over in front of the tables in the first row that the prisoners had been eating at. The Black priest's attention had been completely cut off from what he had been occupied with, and he slowly, as if also in a trance, walked towards the gray haired priest until they were about a yard away from each other. Then the black priest said, â??Be strong. Save many.â?? The gray haired priest nodded and replied, "Tell Peter to keep the gates wide. The river shall flow unto He." "With the strength of three, Enoch." "With the strength of three, Johnathan." Brad looked on. The black priest wore a grave look on his face as he turned towards the first row of heavy metal dinning tables which now held less than a quarter of the original prisoners. Then he took a deep loud breath, and like children, every single prisoner sitting or standing at the table sat down quicker than they had ever done anything, and unaware of any race, nation, or gang they all joined hands, and bowed there hands. Time was still slow motion, and Brad felt celestial and was overwhelmed with amazement. The prisoner's reaction confused him, and he then noticed that several seated prisoners had lost control of their body, and had wet themselves. They had instantaneously become children, all in a heavenly second. As that heavenly second came to an end old Father Coleman stepped up the bench to his side and mounted the table in the first row directly in front of Brad, Father Augustine, and the stairway. A massive roar came out of Father Coleman and he thrust his hands forward as if slamming open a double door, and the massive metal table in the far row flew with inhuman power, along with those seated, through the cinder block wall decimating the seated prionsers, exposing a huge hole in the wall, and annihilating everyone's understanding of reality. Bits of dust, and particles of cinder wafted through the air and settled down upon the astonished people around it. Blood had been splattered in every direction from the seated prisoner's fatal impact, and a red mist fell. The LORD had come. Right then things began to speed back up, and Father Augustine turned quickly. His eyes met Brad's momentarily, but darted up towards the second floor. Armed guards had lined the walkway. They looked seriously frightened and had shotguns pointed. Augustine raised both arms upward at the guards, and with an incredible force each one's gun miraculously was ripped from their clutch, swung around, and floated at chest's height now with the guards on the other end. Augustine exclaimed, â??Not since the day of Jonah has the LORD put in place such miraculous deeds. Praise be to GOD!!!â?? The prisoners answered, â??Amen.â?? â??I am The Shepherd! I am St. Augustine! I am Enoch! I come in the name of the LORD!!! Be warned. Now is the last of your days. This, if anytime ever, is The Moment of Truth! You brother's shall pay witness to the final acts of the LORD,â?? the priest had everyone's attention, â?? Now swear allegiance to Heaven. Give your heart and soul to the LORD Jesus, for if you do not, you will be lost. Only through the son shall you be saved! Only through the lamb!â?? The prisoners answered, â??Amen.â?? The unanimity of the prisoner's response forced half of the second floor guards to their knees in peril and God given fear. They cried out for forgiveness and wept uncontrollably. The standing guards wore dire looks on their faces, and did not know what to do, and only understood their orders. Augustine glared at the half of the guards that were still standing and said solemnly and with finality, â??Accept the Holy Trinity, or suffer the ripping and gnashing of teeth.â?? Then Augustine quickly looked at Bradley and his cuffed wrists, and with the incredible timing, the priest lowered his left hand and pointed at the hand cuffs. The hand cuff chain fiercely shot apart and the links flew everywhere freeing Brad's hands. Simultaneously the floating shot guns all discharged and fell to the ground. Now the shotguns in front of the kneeling guards had been above their heads leaving them out of harms way, but the half of the guards that did not were no more; all of them. At this Moment of Truth, Bradley felt like a child unable to communicate. Everything that went on around him was nonsensical. His brain could not hand him a next step. He looked at the cuffs around his wrist which no longer were bound to each other. He then raised his view to meet the priest's. Father Augustine's eyes locked with his, â??Go now,â?? and he pointed towards the gaping hole in the prison wall. A feeling of understanding came over Brad for the first time that day. He knew what the priest had ordered him to do was exactly what was supposed to happen. He peered through the hole in the wall, and could see a poorly kept grass area on the other side. At the far end of the grass were the prison walls which soared about thirty feet in the air. There was a low barbed-wired fence on the grass several yards from the wall, and two sniper towers flanked it. Bradley had no idea what he would do when he got outside to the grassy area, but he knew it was what he needed to do. He started for the hole, but then Brad felt hands strongly grip both of his biceps, and he was unexplainably lifted off of the floor, and with great speed through the wall's hole. The force dropped him to the ground outside, and Bradley wasted no time trying to figure anything out. He just obeyed the feeling he had inside, and ran straight for the thirty-foot wall. Both sniper towers were manned, and the gunmen's attention had undoubtedly been drawn to the exploding wall on the other side of the grassy area which they patrolled. Both were experts, and were now cocking their bullets into the gun's chamber.
Unaware of the two gunmen, Bradley heard the back-to-back blasts echo through the grassy courtyard. The sounds were followed by the breaking of glass and the flying or sparks in each sniper tower; once again, back-to-back. Bradley continued, but the gun fire did not. Bradley was coming up on the barbed wire fence which was no higher than his waist. As he reached it he jumped up with his right leg, and placed his foot on the barbed wire in order to vault off and over it, but as he rose to the pinnacle of his jump he felt the grips back on his biceps, and he was raised up and over the wall, and down head first into the bordering San Pablo Bay. He had been set free.. Category: novel text -- posted at: 12:16 AM Comments[0] |
