Page 96 of Shadow of Death
They walked at least twenty minutes at a brisk pace before coming to a clearing where the saw grass had been flattened hard against the earth. There was a waterway beyond it, and hardwood hammocks to the right and the left.
Dead center of the flattened area was a makeshift altar—a poor altar, constructed without skill from some of the cypress in the area.
But there was a flat board atop it, and she was led to the board. As they brought her there, she saw people were coming from the direction of the water. They were being brought from across it by airboat. Amy thought she could hear traffic from beyond the shoreline.
The highway ran near.
And Hunter...
Someone in a cape and cowl walked toward the altar. That person was followed by another, one who was taller but bowed in reverence.
“The Archangel!” the other cried.
“Down, now!” Amy was told, and the larger of her captors lifted her off her feet, setting her down. They made no effort to restrain her, and it was clear they thought their numbers were enough to cow her. Amy lay there silently, waiting. And it began.
“You, my chosen ones!” the caped figure cried out. “Come, that we may say the words, and save this child. We prepare ourselves for the great battle to come! For Armageddon is upon us, the Apocalypse is coming and you have listened, you have heeded the words of truth!”
Listening for a moment, Amy was stunned.
This time, the archangel was a woman! And Amy knew that it was Hayden Harper!
Amy’s captors, still near the altar, knelt, as did the others who had come around.
Ordinary people, as before. Men, women, couples, even a few children. Perhaps thirty or so people in all.
The Archangel paused by the altar, speaking softly to Amy’s captors.
“Where is the other? The boy?”
“We had to kill him,” one of them said. “We were sorry—he won’t be saved. But we had no choice.”
It was a chance to change things. To shake them up.
Amy sat up on the altar/board. “They’re lying! He escaped. And you’re a murderer!”
“Stop!” the Archangel cried. She stared hard at the two men who might well be lying as far as she knew, but she wasn’t going to be deterred. She didn’t bother with any more words. Her cowled assistant stood nearby holding a pillow with a large sharp dagger upon it. Hayden Harper, the Archangel, reached for it, and raised it over Amy’s head.
“I, having sworn to the great and true Power of the Apocalypse to come take the role of the Archangel himself, have sworn to fulfill the destiny of the rider of the black horse. Thus, we take the heart of the sinner, take her sins upon us, strengthen ourselves for the ultimate battle to come, and strive for this child’s immortal soul!”
The knife was about to fall. Before the blade came plunging down, Amy threw herself off the board. She reached under the sacrificial robe for her own knife, ready to defend herself. But she never had to use it.
A shot rang out. A perfectly aimed shot. The bullet went straight through Hayden Harper’s hand, and the “Archangel” fell to the ground, screaming.
The man beside her dropped his velvet pillow and scrambled in his coat for a weapon, but Amy jumped him and sent him crashing down to the ground.
And that was it. As others rose, screaming, confused, yet ready to fight, the clearing was suddenly filled with men and women, agents and officers. Ryan was at her side, reaching down to cuff the Archangel’s assistant.
It was none other than Malcolm Barrington.
Then Hunter was there at her side. He wrenched Hayden Harper to her feet as she screamed and looked at the bloody pulp that had been her hand. He pushed her toward another agent.
Mickey. Mickey was there himself, smiling and nodding at her. But as he arrived, another shot rang out, coming from deep within the cypress.
Hayden Harper went down, shot through the back.
“Sniper! Down, everyone!” Hunter shouted.
Law enforcement and the horseman’s followers dropped to the ground, but no further gunfire followed. Agents were soon tearing into the cypress, searching for the shooter.
