Jon Merz - Vicarious

Curran shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe…he’s crapping them out?”

“God,” said Lauren. “Do you really think so?”

“All I can tell you is what I smelled. I wanted to puke my guts out as soon as the first whiff hit me.”

“Maybe that’s what it is, then,” said Lauren. “Or maybe he vomits the souls into the vat.”

“Is that possible?”

Lauren shrugged. “Is any of this possible, Steve? I don’t know. All I do know is that it seems to be happening regardless of whether we think it ought to be or not. Darius is working hard to complete his objective.”

“He can’t be finished yet, though,” said Curran.

“What makes you say that?”

“If he was finished, Satan would already be back. Wouldn’t he?”

“Good point.” Lauren steepled her fingers. “That means he’s got another victim on the back burner.”

“Maybe more than one,” said Curran. “We don’t know what the formula is, remember?”

“Right,” said Lauren. “I’ve got a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you think Darius knows you were at his house?”

Curran took a swig of water. “I tried to leave it exactly as I found it. But I can’t be sure I did given how I was feeling when I left. He’s lucky I didn’t lose my lunch all over some of his precious antiques.” Curran frowned, remembering. “Crap.”

“What?”

“The door. The damned door.” Curran shook his head. “I left it unlocked.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because I was trying to keep from yakking my guts out all over his house.” Curran sighed. “Couldn’t be helped. Maybe he’ll just write it off.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“No. I don’t. He’ll know.”

“And if he does know…” Lauren’s voice trailed off.

Curran nodded. “He’ll try to accelerate his schedule.”

“If he can.”

“Are you thinking he might not have any control over who he kills and when he does it?”

“Perhaps,” said Lauren. “Maybe Satan himself speaks to Darius and lets him know when to kill again.”

“Great,” said Curran. “I’ve heard of a lot of killers claiming the Devil made them do it. This is the first time I’ve actually been inclined to believe it.”

“But you see that gives us a little room to work with.”

“How so?”

“If Darius doesn’t kill until he’s commanded to, that means there is some kind of rhyme or reason to this resurrection business. It’s not just the idle musings of some deranged fool. Satan cannot return to this plane until certain requirements have been fulfilled.”

“Sounds like a college course,” said Curran with a grin.

She looked at him. “Glad to see your sense of humor survived the run in with the vat.”

“Me, too,” said Curran. “Do you think that vat is some kind of special device built especially for the purpose Darius seems to be using it for?”

“It could be,” said Lauren. “I’ve found no mention of it in anything the Church has written down. But then again, that doesn’t mean it couldn’t have been designed and made thousands of years before the Church.”

“You mean another religion?” She kept surprising him. He expected her to defend and promote the Catholic Church to the exclusion of everything else.

Lauren nodded. “It’s entirely possible. The Roman Catholic Church isn’t the only religion on the planet, nor is it as all-powerful as some believe.”

“This from a would-be nun,” said Curran. “Amazing.”

“It’s not amazing at all,” said Lauren. “It’s simply reality. There have been hundreds of other religions, thousands of other gods around before belief in Jesus Christ evolved. And most of those other religions have their own version of the Devil.”

“So maybe another religion devised this big jar for the purpose of vomiting the evil souls of people into it?”

“And then helping their version of the Devil come back to this world, yes.”

Curran finished his water. “Great.”

Lauren smiled. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking how if I’d known all those years ago what kind of bullcrap this case would have spelled out for me, I would have requested a transfer to an FBI SWAT team.”

“Isn’t that incredibly dangerous?”

Curran looked at her. “I’m trying to judge which one is worse: getting shot to death or messing around with Satan.”

“Tough choice,” said Lauren. “And even if you had known, would you really have chosen another path?”

“I might have.”

She grinned. “I think you would have stayed exactly where you were regardless of what the outcome would be.”

“You know me that well?”

“Getting to, yes.”

“Really.”

“Steve, you might think and say things like that, but you wouldn’t actually do it. You are one of the few men in this world that I know of who don’t actively try to steer clear of a challenge. You don’t necessarily rush at them head-on, but if you know what’s got to be done, you do it, regardless of the personal cost.”

“I wouldn’t say regardless,” said Curran. “Personal cost can be a real bitch to put up with.”

“I’m sure it is,” said Lauren. “But that still doesn’t take away from what I said. You know as well as I do that your path is what it is because you chose to follow it.”

“If that’s so, then by your definition, I chose to get fired by the FBI.”

“By virtue of pursuing Darius even when it became apparent you were getting nowhere. Yes.”

Curran shook his head. “I don’t know. I loved the FBI.”

“Did you really?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe a part of you loved the Bureau. It attracts people because of the prestige. But maybe there was an aspect you didn’t like at all. Maybe you knew deep down inside that you wouldn’t want to stay there much longer.”

“And what — the case became my excuse to leave by way of getting fired?”

Lauren nodded.

Curran looked at her. “That’s one helluva theory.”

“It might prove itself true, you never know.”

“And it might hold no water whatsoever.”

Lauren smiled. “Maybe.” She pointed. “Only you can decide whether it does or not.”

“You never mentioned you were some kind of pop psychology whiz kid.”

“Pet hobby of mine,” said Lauren. “Impressed?”

“I’d be more inclined to amazement if I wasn’t the guinea pig under the microscope.”

“Wow, that’s one incredible mixed metaphor.”

Curran shook his head. “Jeez, you’re an English teacher, too?”

Lauren waved the comment off. “What are we going to do next — now that we’ve got Darius possibly thinking we’re on to him?”

“I still don’t have any kind of evidence to do things the right way, as much as I’d like to.”

“I thought by-the-book had gone out the window.”

“It did earlier today,” said Curran. “That doesn’t mean I intend to make a habit out of it.”

“But you will if there’s no alternative.”

“Of course.” He didn’t feel comfortable doing it, but Darius had to be stopped. Legally or not.

“You know the best thing to do is to destroy that vat.”

“What — you mean break it?”

“Yes. But we’d also have to dispose of all the evil Darius has spent all these years gathering inside of it.”

“And how do we do that?”

Lauren frowned. “We could pour it down the drain?”

“Uh,” said Curran. “Part of me thinks Darius might find a way to have some sort of resurrection ceremony down at the sewage treatment facility. That wouldn’t be good.”

“We don’t have many other alternatives.”

“So if we break this vat and somehow dispose of the contents,” said Curran. “What’s to stop Darius from going off on another killing spree for the next decade.”