Ex-Communication Peter Clines (ebook smartphone .TXT) 📖

“Hey,” snapped St. George. A burst of dark smoke rolled from his mouth. “Let’s cut all this talk right now.”

The murmur continued for a few more seconds before falling. The dead girl’s mouth twitched into a faint smile aimed at St. George.

“Madelyn’s not an ex,” said St. George. “She belongs inside. She’s one of us.”

“One of you, maybe,” muttered Al. Billie gave him a light smack on the back of the head and he batted her arm away. The murmur returned and swelled into rumbling.

“I can get the sword,” Madelyn insisted, raising her voice over the noise. “Max said the demon’s after living things. And Legion can’t see me through the exes, so maybe this other thing can’t, either. I’m the only person who can do it.”

The phrase “not a person” flitted from a few places in the crowd. St. George ignored it. Freedom gave the crowd his well-practiced glare and the rumbling died down again.

“You can’t go out there,” St. George said. “We can’t risk anyone going past the wards.”

“But if it can’t see me—”

“No one goes out,” he repeated. He turned his gaze back to the guards and scavengers. “We’ll take every blade we’ve got. Machetes, bowies, ninja swords, whatever. Start gathering stuff. Maybe between our stuff and whatever Dave and Ilya find, Max can find something usable.” He patted the folding table and pointed across the crowd. “You too, Danny. We need everything.”

“You heard the man, people,” bellowed Kennedy. She clapped her hands together twice. “Let’s get moving.”

The scavengers and guards scattered. Some of them emptied sheaths right there. A dozen knives and daggers appeared on the table with Al’s square-bladed machete.

Madelyn walked the rest of the way to St. George. “Let me do it,” she said.

Freedom shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“I can do this. I want to do it.”

“We are not sending a seventeen-year-old girl alone into hostile territory.”

She glared at him. “Hello? In case you forgot, I spent the past three years in hostile territory.”

“And you don’t remember most of it,” said St. George. “We let you out there, it could be weeks before we see you again. Maybe years.”

“I’ll be careful. It won’t happen.”

He shook his head.

She crossed her arms. “You have to let me try. I mean, it’s like my duty and stuff, right?”

Freedom’s brows went up. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, I’ve got responsibilities, even to some of those jerks. I’m like you guys, right?”

“How do you figure?” asked St. George.

“I’ve got superpowers,” she said, waving a hand at herself. “The exes can’t see me or hear me. They don’t sense me at all.”

Kennedy snorted. “I don’t think being dead counts as a superpower, ma’am.”

“It does for me,” Madelyn said. “Come on, it’ll be easy for me. I can just bike over there, grab it, and be back here in a couple hours. It’s … it’s dead simple.”

Freedom rolled his eyes.

“Dead clever?”

“Just stop,” Kennedy said.

“I’m also dead sexy,” she added, batting her eyelids at St. George.

“Okay,” St. George said. “Look at it this way. Suppose I let you go, you get out there, and it turns out the demon can see you. Then what?”

“I … I’d just keep away from it. I’d run.”

He shook his head. “What if it turns out it can jump into you the same way it jumps into the exes? What if you take two steps past the ward and you just explode like they’ve been doing?”

“I’m not like them,” she snapped. “I’m like them but different. I’m …” She lifted her arms and crossed her wrists over her heart. “I’m the Corpse Girl,” she said with a tight smile.

“You’re a seventeen-year-old we’re responsible for,” said St. George. “I appreciate that you want to help. I really do. But I think right now it’d be better for everyone and a lot less distracting if you went back to the hospital.”

“FATHER ANDY?”

He looked down the aisle to the huge shadow blocking the church door. “Hello, Captain,” he said. “I thought you’d be out on the walls.”

Freedom walked down to meet the priest. He held his cap in his hands, and his boots thudded on the carpeted aisle. “Soon enough,” he said. “I apologize if you were finishing up for lunch, sir, but I have a request and I’m afraid it’s urgent.”

Andy met him near the midpoint of the aisle, brow furrowed. “Something from me?” He glanced around the church. “I don’t have much, but if it helps it’s yours.”

Captain Freedom stood at ease and explained what he needed.

Father Andy listened without a word. His jaw shifted when the captain finished. “I see.”

“Is there a problem, sir?”

“Possibly.”

“In Iraq and Afghanistan, the chaplains assigned to us would do similar things for some of the men.”

“Some of the men,” the priest said, “but not you?”

“Hopefully you’ll forgive me, father,” said Freedom, “but I’m actually a diehard Baptist. In this case, though, I’m hedging my bets.”

Andy reached up to run a finger along his collar, giving it a slight tug. “I’m not actually a priest, you know,” he told the captain. “I was never ordained by anyone. The responsibility was thrust upon me.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say such things,” the huge officer said with a solemn nod.

“What I’ve been preaching isn’t really Catholicism. It’s more of a general Christian mishmash to give solace to as many people as possible.”

“I understand,” said Freedom. “We’ve all been a bit loose with our denominations over the past few years.”

“It’s just that what you’re asking for is … well, it’s pretty hard-core Catholic. I’ve never done it before. Never even seen it done, so I’ll be winging it. And this needs a lot of weight behind it, especially considering the circumstances.” Andy’s hand dropped away from his collar. “I just want you to be clear there’s a good chance this won’t work. Not the way you want it to, anyway.”

“All the same, sir,” said the captain, “I’d feel much better if you could.”

Father Andy turned back to the altar. “We’ve got plenty of candles. I