Heavensgate - Faith E-Book

Leo Kane

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Where the line between life and death is erased.

In the presence of Seraphim sent to despatch her violent husband's spirit, Faith delivers a daughter - Mercy - whose miraculous birth triggers an ancient prophecy, forcing Heavensgate's inhabitants to seek sanctuary in the high sierra.

The newborn is snatched on Lucifer's orders, transforming the happy widow into a vengeful mother with immortal powers. Abandoned by the Creator, Faith threatens to destroy belief in both Heaven and Hell unless her lost child is returned.

The desperate search for Mercy, and the battle between good and evil, love and hate, threatens the lives of many creating conflict between the immortal sisterhood, Hope, Joy and Faith.

Only Jake's redemption can save them... but first, he has to save himself.

This book contains graphic sex and violence, and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.

Leseprobe

HEAVENSGATE - FAITH

HEAVENSGATE BOOK 3

LEO KANE

CONTENTS

1. I Am

2. Death Of A Hero

3. Trash

4. Mercy

5. Prophesy

6. Warning

7. Merry Widow

8. Old Flame

9. Dogman

10. Prophecy

11. Sanctuary

12. Going Home

13. Love Changes Everything

14. Poison

15. Despair

16. Baby Sitter

17. Arson

18. Possessed

19. Sole Survivor

20. Distraction

21. Hero

22. Malice

23. Father Figure

24. Love The One You’re With

25. Reunited

26. Hopeless

27. Thief

28. Prediction

29. Testify

30. Angels

31. Conception

32. Conception

33. Challenge

34. Changes

35. Only Human After All

36. Deliverance

37. Renewal

38. A Reaping

39. Rebirth

40. Rebirth

Acknowledgments

MUSICAL ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2020 Leo Kane

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Lordan June Pinote

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

This book is dedicated to our beloved grandchildren,

Bailey, Sébastian, Keira, Joseph, Zoe, Jack and Alexander

and written with faith

that all lost children

will one day be reunited with those who love them.

God bless the mother who has lost a child - heal her hurting, aching heart

And just hold her for a while.

God give the mother peace

Whose child you called away

And give her the joy of knowing they will reunite some day.

THELMA SMITH

The world is full of monsters with friendly faces and angels full of scars.

ANON

If I have harmed anyone in any way either knowingly or unknowingly through my own confusions I ask their forgiveness.

If anyone has harmed me in any way either knowingly or unknowingly through their own confusions I forgive them.

And if there is a situation I am not ready to forgive I forgive myself for that.

For all the ways I harm myself, negate, doubt, belittle myself, judge or be unkind to myself through my own confusions

I forgive myself.

A BUDDHIST PRAYER

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen, the connecting power to the spiritual realm, which links us with the Creator and makes Her a tangible reality.

ADAPTED SCRIPTURAL DEFINITION OF FAITH

1

I AM

I belong in hell.

My pathetic alter-ego, Jacob, passed through the Gate leaving me to pay for his sins. He was blind to the truth, but I learnt my torturous lessons despite the interference of the immortals, Hope and Joy in my spiritual growth.

I’ll tell you my secrets so you’ll have a fighting chance around those eternal bitches. Faced with annihilation, I’m not so bad after all, am I?

You’ve met Hope; ancient as the stars and still playing the innocent. You fix your pathetic sheep-mind on her and waste your sad little lives praying for Hope to ease your misery.

When you’re drowning in anxiety or grief or fighting for your next breath, Hope shows you the quintessential beauty of life before she steals your heart and kills you.

Suckers.

Hope is a malignant, cock-teasing tramp.

You also know the miracle that is Joy.

She is the blessed sunshine among life’s vicious downpours. Fleeting, beautiful Joy casts shadows of despair with her absence.

Even as Joy abandons you, you beg her to bring a happy ever after ending to your insignificant life.

These two immortal sirens have a sister, Faith, who poisons your soul with the lie that the Creator loves you. Faith tricks you into trusting this indifferent god in your darkest hours.

I love Joy, and this is my greatest sin. I must redeem myself in my Master’s eyes and beg him to save me from the fiery pit to sit at His right hand, a trusted soldier of Hell.

Lucifer has commanded me to deliver Faith to him naked and reeking of despair. She must crawl on torn and bloodied knees to my Lord. He will feed on her grief until hopeless, joyless and without mercy, she forsakes the Creator.

It is prophesised that Faith will plead for allegiance with Lucifer thereby fulfilling her destiny as the greatest destructive power in the universe.

I think you’ll agree that over the ages Faith has been a damn good mind-fuck; however, her time with the Great Deceiver will bring a new dawn.

Hope, Joy and Faith: these are the women in this shadow life I lead - may the Devil show me mercy.

I warn you to avoid these damned Sisters of the Soul in the full and certain knowledge you won’t take my advice.

By the way, I am Jake Andersen.

Welcome to Heavensgate –

where Faith in the Creator will die.

2

DEATH OF A HERO

Rob is roadkill. She loved those three little words. Yes, it was wicked, but it felt so good.

Choking back tears and snot soft-hearted Deputy Henry Cullen had delivered the astounding news to Faith who, despite being astonished by such a blessing, had done her best to calm and comfort the young officer.

Fighting tears of anger and grief Henry had guided her down her icy path and was now settling her into the waiting patrol car with quiet consideration. He tucked a blanket around her legs “for warmth” while she smiled in the dark interior. Faith snuggled under the blanket grateful for the comfort of such simple kindness given that four hours earlier his heroic boss had kicked her in every tender place where bruises are not easily seen.

Henry drove with emergency lights flashing and siren blaring, going as fast as he dare through freezing fog and a blizzard building into a white-out. His pregnant passenger sat beside him in silence, grateful for the shadows hiding her cringing response to the many worried glances he sent her way.

Henry’s beloved boss was the reason for this mad dash through the freezing night. The Captain of St Johns’ police department had been on the highway outside Dina’s Diner waving down a vehicle which rather than obey his signal to stop had accelerated and smashed him into the asphalt. The sole witness gave a short statement at the cop shop telling the story of a white van and a woman driver. The stranger had also managed to escape a locked interview room leaving behind a stench the Duty Officer described as, “Rotting flesh, like death, it made me puke. It made us all puke.”

Faith considered this night time dash to Heavensgate Hospital quite unnecessary because they were on their way to say goodbye, Henry to his hero and she to her abuser.

Peering between the hypnotic swish of the windscreen wipers, Henry chewed his bottom lip. He had no idea how he would comfort Faith when she saw her husband. He prayed someone had the presence of mind to bring Pastor Martinez to the Intensive Care Unit. Henry was useless around weeping women, he always felt their tears were his fault; not that Faith had shed any tears. She must be in shock, he knew he was. His musings distracted his attention from the road sending them careening around a bend slaloming over black-ice. Faith clung one-handed to her safety belt, the other protecting her unborn child who responded with a vigorous kick to already bruised ribs. The moment the unnerving fishtailing was over she tapped Henry on the knee saying, “Well done. Now please turn off these awful sirens and ease off the gas; there’s no rush. I doubt Rob’s going anywhere.”

Five minutes later the car came to a sliding stop outside the hospital’s main doors. Henry killed the engine and leapt out to help Faith into the bitter night where, hesitant to step into her future she paused sticking out her tongue to catch the icy melt of snowflakes. Henry’s raised eyebrow made her put her tongue away and say, “Worry makes me crazy. Let’s get inside before we catch our death.”

Certain he would never understand the mysterious ways of women Henry helped her into the brightly lit foyer where a gum chewing receptionist tore her eyes away from a glossy magazine barely long enough to give directions.

Faith’s swollen ankles, bruised body and unreliable centre of gravity made climbing stairs difficult so, forced to suffer the enclosed elevator she inspected the floor praying Henry would not notice her struggle to maintain a sad expression. Mild cramps gripped her belly before fading away leaving her with a new worry - if this was labour it was a month too soon.

A tinny voice announced, “Intensive Care and Theatres,” as the doors whooshed apart. This was it, whatever happened she must behave appropriately. Pressing the button which kept the doors open she patted her bump, thought sad thoughts and with crocodile tears in her eyes said, “My mom’s playing bridge with Mrs Martinez tonight and…” she let her voice catch on a sob, “I think this babe is getting ready to arrive.”

“If you’re sure you can manage without me; maybe I could go get her for you?” Practically twisting his tongue in haste Henry ran an ink stained hand through frizzy curls, his doe eyes tearfully revealing his relief at having an excuse to leave.

Faith nodded, biting her bottom lip against a smile - gentle Henry was more used to filing reports than babysitting pregnant widows.

“OK. Good. Er, I’ll do that straight away.” He could not leave fast enough.

In the gloomy corridor, Faith pasted on an idiotic grin and wiggling her fingers until Henry’s anxious face disappeared watched the numbers count down, both envious of his escape and relieved there was now one less person to put on a show for. Faith liked Henry, he was sweet. She was blessedly unaware that this was the last time she would see the young officer alive.

Unsure which way to go she took a steadying breath gagging at the stench of death unconcealed by disinfectant, not knowing that her anxiety was adding an overtone of burnt rose to the mix. Considering leaving while still she could she noticed a thick, red line painted along the floor and wobbled on, one hand supporting the small of her back the other tucked under her swollen middle.

In truth, she felt afraid, not so much about Rob as the undeniable fact that her bump had dropped lower and the babe was no longer kicking.

As she approached the ICU a tickling inside replaced her fear, the touch too gentle to be the child and so rare she could not immediately identify it. The sensation surged into her chest and she blushed ashamed by the fluttering butterflies of hope. Feeling bad for feeling good, she pressed a buzzer beside a pair of metal doors muttering, “Creator, forgive me.”

Faith waited, nibbling the sore edges of pre-chewed nails and longing for a sneaky cigarette. Her apprehension flared when crackling static and a disembodied voice requested her name before an electric click opened the door to the rest of her life.

Inside the ICU she squirted the mandatory disinfectant on her hands and composed her expression into what she imagined to be a look of hard-won courage in a naïve wife close to breakdown. A few more reluctant steps along the sterile corridor brought her to Room 1 where she found her husband’s name scrawled on a whiteboard by the door. Taking a moment to gather courage she smoothed down her unruly hair muttering, “There you are, Robert, numero uno like you always must be.”

A twinge in her lower back reminded her that she had a perfect excuse to leave, but determined to do what would be expected of her she peeked into the small room gaining the attention of a handsome, slim man with a profusion of tar black, renaissance curls. The badge on his white coat introduced him as ‘Mr Lord - Consultant’.

“Come all the way in. You’re the Captain’s wife, yes?” The doctor wore the blankest expression Faith had ever seen on any person in her life. She entered with her hands shielding the bump straining the buttons of her best coat and her dutiful eyes fixed on the body in the bed.

“Mrs …,”

“Faith. I’m Faith.”

“Yes, you are.” He bowed so deeply his forehead touched his bony knees.

Throwing the Doctor a puzzled look she noticed the two attending nurses. The man was tall and skinny, his limbs sharp angles, his skin so pale as to be nearly translucent, a silken pony-tail black as a starless night hung down the length of his back.

Goosebumps decorated her skin when she heard Rob ask, “You know what’s under a pony-tail? A horse’s ass, that’s what.” She stared at man in the bed, there was no way he could have spoken yet she had definitely heard his voice. The male Nurse shook his head as if to reassure her, his gentle eyes sparkling with delight beneath a heavy coating of pink glitter shadow and bright blue liner. Reading her reaction to his appearance as admiration he waved in greeting only to have his elegant hand slapped down by a much shorter nurse whose plump body refused to be contained by the mere fabric of her uniform making her appear more upholstered than dressed. An unruly mass of crimson curls topped off the unkempt look, threatening to push a tiny starched, white cap off her head. If this nurse was also wearing makeup Faith could not see it.

Dr Lord regained her attention by closing an unusual silver pocket-watch with a crisp snap. Clasping his hands behind his back he stared at the wall and said, “Your husband is the victim of a terrible accident and his condition is grave.” He risked looking in her eyes, searching for a flicker of emotion. Finding only the painful flinch most beings suffered under his gaze he returned his attention to the wall and continued, “Robert, in addition to his more obvious injuries suffered a catastrophic assault to his brain. Do you understand?”

Ignoring his brusque brutality, Faith crept to the bed eager to take a closer look. A heavily bandaged face and the obvious absence of a right arm made the patient unrecognisable. Was this her husband? She reached for his remaining hand and sighed with relief - there was no mistaking the gold wedding band. His ring exactly matched the one which, only a few hours ago, she had thrown in the toilet, leaving it shining in the bowl and hoping Rob would unwittingly take a dump over it.

A droning noise brought her back to the present moment, it was Mr Lord still explaining, without omitting details most people would find distressing, the hopeless gravity of her husband’s condition. Finally satisfied Faith understood her role in his ICU was that of grieving spouse and member of the public in awe of his great power, he left her staring at the space he had occupied, chewing her stubby nails and struggling with the frightening thought he had vanished which was, of course, impossible and must be a stress reaction.

She watched the nurses glide around Rob with what, at first sight appeared to be quiet efficiency and at second sight was clearly a total absence of anything useful at all. In fact, her overriding impression was that they were on high alert, waiting for something to happen.

“I’m Nurse Gabi and this is Nurse Ruby, she’s nicer than she looks, much, much nicer.” Faith knew the skinny nurse was trying to distract her from her thoughts. He winked at his surly colleague earning a weak smile from Faith who offered her hand to the nurse who refastened a button on her overworked uniform and began to straighten Rob’s perfect sheets.

Blushing, Gabi guided Faith to the only chair. She dropped onto sticky bumps and hollows, her ankles grateful for the respite, her nerves dancing and her eyes glued to the bed.

“Please forgive our darling Nurse Moody.”

Nodding, Faith noticed Nurse Gabi’s rose-pink manicure envious that everything about him was much prettier than her swollen, dishevelled self. Nonetheless, she was sure exotic makeup could not be in keeping with hospital regulations.

Nurse Ruby caught her attention in different ways. How much strength had the woman needed to force her considerable assets into her uniform? Ruby spun round throwing Faith a look that made her pray she had not spoken out loud. While the nurse tutted and looked away she stared at Rob struggling to accept the story her eyes told. Someone had intentionally driven at her husband with such speed and force his shattered skull had turned his brain to mush and his right arm was ripped off his body leaving him dependent on medical apparatus to keep what was left of him alive long enough for her to say goodbye. Wondering where his missing arm was she gave herself a mental slap and ignoring the nurses’ bemused expressions, ran her fingers along the ventilator snaking down Rob’s throat. She examined the monitor reporting critical information from wires nestled in his grey chest hair before sitting back down to continue the destruction of her nails while the incredible truth sank in:

Rob (aka ‘the bastard’) was brain dead. Check.

The consultant would want to turn off life support. Check.

And she would be free to raise her child without fear. Check.

Spotting the moment the flame-haired nurse most definitely caught her thoughts again she hung her head in a pretext of wifely sorrow. If it wouldn’t be so unprofessional as to be impossible she would have sworn the other woman gave a derisive snort.

Unable to stop her mind racing faster than her pulse, Faith gasped at another labour pain. The nurses stared at her pregnant belly with expressions akin to rapture. Whilst Faith stifled her groans, Nurse Gabi theatrically swooned with delight and his surly colleague asked, “May I?” Golden eyes glowing with reverence Ruby rested a hot palm against the tight ball of baby saying, “A blessed miracle, everyone in Heaven and …” Gabi flapped his hands and she continued, “I mean … everyone is talking about your pregnancy, but no-one dared to believe in a happy ending.”

“Well, unless this is a bad case of over indulgence the miracle is on his or her way, so I reckon belief will follow us home; don’t you?”

“We believe that you’ll be the only mother to deliver a living babe in Heavensgate for an age, yes indeed.” Ruby raised her eyes to the ceiling and clasping her plump fingers together stretched her sulky mouth into a most disconcerting, beatific smile.

Determined not to obsess on the words “living babe” and thinking her labour had begun at the worst time possible Faith hid behind her hair struggling to contain excitement desperate to break free like sunshine long hidden behind clouds.

To the soundtrack of ventilated breaths and beeping monitors Faith took occasional sips of water whilst riding increasingly strong contractions. In-between her pains two of the four people in the room made small talk whilst the third kept a brooding watch over the bloody and bandaged fourth.

Focussed on her impatient baby and calmed by Nurse Gabi, Faith had almost forgotten why Henry had brought her here in such a hurry until Doctor Lord returned and explained with his sledge hammer subtlety what he called “next steps.” The doctor was either disinterested in or oblivious to the searing pains now travelling from Faith’s back to strangle her bowels. She cried out bringing a concerned Gabi to her side while the Doctor opened his timepiece. “There is plenty of time before the birth. Nurses, you have important work to do without these,” Dr Lord waved a dismissive hand in Faith’s general direction, “distractions.”

Faith was about to tell him to stop being so bloody rude and enquire how the hell he knew how much time she had when the beautiful timepiece tolled a discordant note. Doctor Lord clamped his cold hands around Faith and ignoring her shocked protests heaved her from the chair out of the room and across the corridor, depositing her in the ‘Family Lounge’. Locking his dispassionate eyes with her frightened ones he said, “A nurse will collect you shortly. In the meantime, should you become further indisposed press the call button.”

“In-dis-posed?” Rolling her eyes, Faith stretched out the word with a sneer and found fresh air where his annoying face should have been. The arrogant bastard had again managed to leave without her noticing his departure. Grumbling, she rubbed tingling life back into her arms feeling half afraid and half livid. How dare the infuriating man treat her this way? She would soon be the first woman in Heavensgate to give birth since forever and the white-coat wearing tosser dared to call her a distraction and plant her in a room reeking of antiseptic and grief. Furthermore, the nurses are simply weird.

Resisting the urge to march, or at least waddle back to Rob’s room and give Dr Twat (as she would forevermore think of him) a piece of her mind, she slumped down on a brown plastic couch which responded with a noisy exhale of musty air. She would wait five minutes and, if no one had collected her sooner, return to Rob’s bedside welcome or not.

The cheap clock mounted at a disturbing angle above the door was a reminder to keep track of the contractions. A rush of tears burned her cheeks - too many strange things were happening at once and she wanted her mother.

Nurse Gabi slipped into the room to press a chipped mug of tea into Faith’s shaking hands. Knowing his special brew would calm her he placed a clipboard on the stained table saying, “I’m sorry, but when you feel ready…” producing a fluorescent pink pen out of nowhere he handed it to her with a flourish and continued, “Lord D…I mean, the Consultant needs you to please sign this form of authority.”

Pain slammed into her body sending the cup flying. She bit her tongue stifling a scream and watched the nurse prance about flapping his hands with visible excitement. When the pain released her, he flopped down on the nasty couch smiling his enchanting smile. His skin had taken on the glow of sunshine shimmering on water and Faith knew in her bones that something was alarmingly wrong with him. He did not look quite human. As she inspected him with rising anxiety he in turn empathised with her consternation and searched her face as if it contained the answer to all mystery before asking, “Are you OK? Should I fetch my little fat friend, er I mean Nurse Ruby…madre mia...I’m so excited.”

Before she could reply a fresh contraction demanded her attention. Gabi squeezed her hand, his touch bringing instant relief and together they watched the clock until, breathless and panting she pointed to the clipboard saying, “You asked me to sign an authority; authority for what?”

Tugging at his collar Gabi stammered, “Er, well, the hospital needs you to sign here, on this line, see? So we can, er, turn off the machines.”

The horror of signing away Rob’s life support hit her with as much force as the following contraction. Gabi stroked her lower back, his magic touch once again banishing pain.

“If I must sign this I can't hang around here any longer. I should be with Rob.”

Without bothering to read the form, she signed on the dotted line, fixed Nurse Gabi with a commanding stare and said, “Take me back to my husband or I swear...”

“There’s no need for threats, my Lady.” Gabi helped her off the nasty sofa and led her back to what Faith had secretly named: ‘The room of deliverance,’ where she noticed three things.

Firstly, despite his skinny frame Nurse Gabi who had until now behaved more or less like a regular person entered the room sideways as if too wide to walk through in a straightforward manner.

Secondly, Nurse Ruby appeared taller and slimmer.

Thirdly, Rob was free of tubes with only the heart monitor remaining by his bed.

The bully looked much smaller without so much medical paraphernalia attached to his body.

Concerned she may have signed away a stranger’s life, Faith swallowed a lump of panic to ask Nurse Ruby, “Are you sure this man is my husband? I mean, I recognise his wedding band; but are you absolutely certain he’s Rob?”

The nurse nodded, her eyes flickering with tiny sparks of empathy and, in contrast to her earlier standoffishness, radiating warmth that had nothing to do with the heating.

“What happens now?” Faith’s voice trembled as she clutched her tightening belly.

In response to her question the nurses exchanged what Faith would later describe to her mother as ‘a look of pure adoration’. Confused by their oddness and exhausted by the circumstances and labour pains, she realised she had no idea what was expected of her. She had no prior experience of hospitals or death, or birth for that matter. She couldn’t understand why Nurse Gabi’s touch numbed her pain or pinpoint exactly what made all three medics appear unnatural. So, with fresh agony building in her body she slumped into the awful chair keeping a watchful eye on the nurses. So far as she could tell they did not do anything threatening or dangerous. All the same, when she focused on the way they moved she could not fail to notice the way they carried themselves; they looked uncomfortable in their own skin. Faith’s heart raced. She struggled not to cry whilst thinking a pregnant woman with a dying husband should not have to deal with such strangeness. Chewing her bleeding nails she was overcome by longing to escape, but a contraction was building and if she tried to leave she knew she would not get two yards.

Doctor Lord’s silent return interrupted her worrying. If required to do so, Faith could swear on her mother’s life that the consultant had appeared out of thin air. It was too much, something was way off kilter. Rob could die without her. The pain was passing; she could make an excuse to meet her Mum at reception and deliver her baby anywhere but this awful room with these peculiar strangers.

Her plan was thwarted when peering at his watch Dr Twat exclaimed, “Nurses prepare, it is close. Lady Faith, whatever happens do not move from this spot.”

Now he was being polite, Lady Faith indeed. She was stuck with her dying husband, three weird medics and the inevitability of more horrendous labour pains. Using the edge of her sleeve to wipe sweat from her brow she jumped out of the chair when loud music filled the room. Shouting to be heard she demanded, “What the hell is that?”

Three blank faces stared at Rob.

Faith waved her hands shouting, “A man, I mean, my husband is dying, dead, whatever, and some idiot is playing ‘Que Será’ here, in the ICU. For Creator’s sake, what’s going on?”

Deaf to her annoyance, the medics continued to watch Rob. Faith noticed the way the nurses kept their right hands resting against their left hips, their stance radiating a definite threat of violence. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy and charged like the moment before a storm, the music grew louder and louder until Faith pressed her hands against her ears fearing her eardrums would burst. She opened her mouth to scream, the Doctor closed his timepiece, the music stopped and deathly silence exploded in the vacuum left behind.

“Stand down. Something has changed. Faith, would you like these last minutes alone with your husband?”

Too terrified to refuse she whispered, “Yes, of course.”

“Are you sure there’s time?” It was Gabi who asked but both reanimated nurses wore expressions of deep uncertainty.

“You dare to question me in this?” The Doctor spoke quietly, but his tone brought the hairs at the nape of Faith’s neck to attention. She squeezed her trembling knees together feeling weak and afraid, unaware of the fat tears rolling down her cheeks until salt stung her lips.

With a sad shake of his head, Nurse Gabi laid a tender palm against her cheek before pointing to a red button saying, “If you need me I will be here before you can blink.” His voice rang deeper and less accented and his body blazed with inner light; it took all Faith’s courage not to flinch away from him.

Her heart quivering behind her ribcage she watched the nurses walk through the door sideways, stooping as if afraid to bang their heads. The sharp click and snap of Doctor Lord’s watch case almost disguising the fact she had again missed his exit.

Faith was finally alone with her pains, her terror and what was left of Rob. She was stuck in the dreadful room with no choice but to swallow her burgeoning panic and ignore the unsettling sensation of being watched from every corner. Attempting to act normally she reached for Rob’s remaining hand. Her bump tightened. Pain attacked stronger than before until the contraction left her sweaty and slumped in the chair, as breathless as if she had run a marathon and praying for it all to end.

A tentative knock on the door announced her friend and colleague, Pastor Martinez, who entered the room looking refreshingly mundane in black clerical robes accessorised with a charming lopsided smile. He clutched the Creator’s Book to his chest like a shield biting his bottom lip while he stared from Faith to Rob and back again in compassionate silence.

Despite having a general suspicion of men who hid behind beards Faith liked Martinez; she enjoyed his easy manner and the way his gentle Latino smile made her toes curl. Her mom, Esther, often remarked (with a dirty giggle) that the pastor looked like a man who knew his way around a woman and wasn’t afraid to go there. Martinez’s wife most definitely possessed an aura of contented satisfaction which suggested Esther was right.

A fresh contraction attacked, bullying away Faith’s composure along with her dignity. She snatched the pastor’s hand, squeezing so hard he winced with the reasonable expectation of hearing his fingers snap quite possibly the moment before he fainted.

Releasing his crushed digits she pointed at her inert husband saying, “Don’t even consider giving that monster the Creator’s Blessing; he only ever believed in his fists.”

Martinez slipped the Book into a long pocket and, throwing Rob a cursory glance, perched on the edge of the bed taking in Faith’s flushed skin and sweat matted hair as he said, “I’ve not seen a birth. I guess it’s painful?”

“What do you think?”

“I think it hurts like a bastard.” Remembering his calling, Martinez raised his eyes and whispered, “Sorry.”

“I don’t imagine anyone around here’s seen a birth, including me. I’m probably making the medics as anxious as they make me. Have you seen them? They’re an unusual bunch to say the least.” She gave a nervous laugh to cover the distress threading through her words.

Removing his ever present hip flask from another roomy pocket, Martinez unscrewed the top saying, “Apart from a bad tempered receptionist I haven’t seen a soul. I’m so sorry, Faith. Poor Rob, no-one deserves such a death, not even him. Is his arm missing? Shit, I hate my job sometimes. Drink?”

“Unless that’s holy-water, I’d prefer a cigarette.”

The pastor grinned. ”Sorry, but that’s not possible. Tell me, how are you coping with all this?” Martinez waved a hand in Rob’s direction, “Don’t lie, I would know.” He tapped the side of his nose letting the smile slide off his face.

“Despite this torture called ‘labour’, I suppose I’m fine. The Bastard, however, is brain-dead. I signed the authorisation to turn off his life support, but I pray with all my heart and soul that he’ll simply slip away so it won’t in any way be my responsibility.” Swallowing the lump in her throat she asked the question which terrified her, “Martinez, what if he resurrects in a few days and comes home like nothing happened? What shall I do?”

Taking a long, slow swig from his hip flask he replied, “There are ways to make sure he…”

“Shit!”

Labour was reaching its climax. Contractions attacked and retreated like waves in a storm whilst Martinez suffered Faith’s incredible grip to the tune of the heart monitor’s decreasing beeps. He watched the lines on the screen grow weak until Rob, animated for the first time since the hit-and-run driver had pulverised him, shuddered releasing a stinking breath which rattled out of his lungs in protest.

Faith’s prayer had been answered. She prostrated herself across Rob’s body and, knowing full well she could not fool Martinez with her sad-show but hoping to fool the medics, she sobbed in excellent imitation of boundless grief.

Shaking his head Martinez took another drink, pressed the emergency button and dropped to his knees as if struck by lightening. The pastor never imagined a simple button could summon a pair of sword wielding, blazing Seraphim and a tall man armed with a slim silver rapier and a voice which made his skin crawl and his heart shudder.

-End the abomination-

The Doctor flung Faith off the corpse a split second before angelic swords crackling with hoarfrost and flames thrust into an oily shadow streaming like sewage from Rob’s dead mouth.

Crawling to Martinez, Faith clung to him whilst he sent what sounded a lot like quivering apologies and promises to his Creator.

Keeping her eyes closed to block out the sight of the annihilation of Rob’s wicked soul she gasped at the warm flood pooling around her knees the water announcing Mercy’s imminent descent into Heavensgate and setting her widowed mother on the path to hell.

3

TRASH

Engine idling to protect its passengers from the sub-zero temperature a cherry-red pick-up truck swayed to the rhythm of the couple joined in passion on its cream, leather seats. The man’s hands clasped the woman’s slender wrists above her head; she raised her hips to his magnifying the force of his thrusts. He admired her creamy skin glowing under the cab’s soft light and the way her auburn hair pooled over generous breasts. She was stunning, but not as beautiful as Joy, no-one ever was.

The man closed his eyes imagining his ex-lover pinned beneath him whilst both of them moaned with pleasure. The woman cried out his name, her thighs gripping his waist when she rose to meet him, she had waited a long time for him to notice her and had no plans to let him go. When a command exploded in the man’s mind he was too far gone to immediately obey instead increasing the speed of his strokes as his conquest arched her back, her lithe body slapping against his own, her breathing quick and shallow until she pulsed around him and an indignant roar cut through his sex-addled brain. He leapt off his conquest, zipping up his jeans and shouting,

Get out.

With her orgasm drifting away like an un-tethered boat, the bewildered woman tried to pull him back to her saying, “It’s OK, baby. Come to mo…” Before the hated word could leave her mouth he pitched her out of the truck into a snowdrift where she was pelted by her clothes, boots and an empty quart of bourbon. Stunned by the fall and shocked by the intense cold against her heated skin she struggled to understand what had happened as she lay shivering under moonlight illuminating icy flakes settling on rising goose bumps.

Watching the truck speed away the naked, freezing woman stumbled into the icy road screaming, “Bastard, you can't use me and throw me out with the trash…” Her voice broke on a sob, “You can’t do this to me…”

The being known as Jake Andersen concentrated on the Devil in his head who told him where to go, who to look for and what to do. It also reminded him of the merciless death he would suffer if he was stupid enough to fail his master again.

4

MERCY

While Faith laboured to bring her daughter into the world, too occupied to worry over every impossible thing she had seen in the ICU, a pick-up truck sped into the hospital parking lot stopping as far away as possible from a patrol car idling near the entrance.

Jake relaxed in the cooling cab and watched Deputy Henry drive away alone. He liked youthful cops; he had fond memories of Captain Rob’s trainee, Deputy Dev, that boy’s sweat tasted like fine wine, so sweet he sometimes regretted killing the nosey little bastard.

For a full hour Jake fretted about the inevitably painful consequences of failure whilst waiting for his master’s `command. He saw Henry return to drop off Esther Harris and smiled, this could only mean one thing. He might have relaxed into the wait if Deputy Henry’s face had not flickered and morphed into that of his master leering at him as he drove by. An uncomfortable reminder that he was never alone and evidence the Deputy had met his maker.

Another hour passed with the speed of a day, Jake was bored; the contrary radio would only play ‘Que Será’, which, in his experience, was never a good sign. Also, given he had dumped his most recent conquest at the side of the road in a blizzard he reckoned that, in the unlikely event she survived the night, he would have zero chance of another fuck. Remembering the talented way she had rocked above and beneath him, he considered it a pity, especially as there had not been many women who could interest him since he lost his beloved Joy.

His master, the Beast, aka the Devil, Lucifer and many other names depending on who told his story and his own capricious mood roared with laughter sending a metaphysical hot poker through Jake’s wandering mind. Despite what felt like an eternity of being hell’s instrument in Heavensgate, Jake had still not found an efficient way to shield his thoughts. He had even tried to not consider protecting his mind in case that traitorous thought was itself punished. Unfortunately, thoughts have a mind of their own and Jake’s suffering was real. Feeling sorry for himself he turned on the radio almost destroying the switch in temper when Radiohead sang ‘I’m a Creep’ to him.

Three gruelling hours after Rob expelled his last shuddering breath and the angelic nurses committed what Martinez called ‘the miraculous smiting’ of Rob’s soul. Only three mortal hours since the pastor, having witnessed his Creator’s heavenly soldiers at work had needed to lie down with a cup of tea and a biscuit, an exhausted and exhilarated Faith nursed her tiny daughter at her breast.