Sean Chercover - The Trinity Game

“Yup.” Then Shooter jerked his head back from the camera and flicked a toggle switch back and forth. “Shit.”

“What?”

“Chip just blew.”

“Goddamnit,” said Julia. “We’re ninety seconds away.”

Shooter snatched a ring of keys from his pocket. “Got another camera in the truck.” He grinned. “College state champion, two hundred meters. Time me.” He turned to the road and took off.

Daniel glanced to the right as Shooter sprinted out across the empty northbound lanes. The headlights of a car swept fast around the curve in the far lane, an eighteen-wheeler just behind it in the second lane.

“Wait!” he yelled, but the kid was already committed, didn’t stop.

The car jerked to the left, tires squealing.

The semi’s air-brakes locked up its massive wheels.

The truck veered, blasting its horn, missing the car by inches.

The car veered into the third lane, straightened out, flew past.

The big rig skidded, jackknifed, and went over on its side, showering sparks, slewing—right through Shooter—off the road, and slammed into the billboard structure.

Silence. Then the billboard groaned, shuddered, and came crashing down. Blocking two northbound lanes of Highway 403.

The state trooper jumped into his cruiser and took off across the highway, siren wailing, roof lights flashing blue and red. Daniel and Julia followed in his car and skidded to a stop beside the overturned truck. The trooper was out of his car and peering through the windshield of the truck’s cab. He smashed the windshield with his Maglight.

The truck driver climbed out, stood up, and brushed himself down.

Daniel ran behind the trailer, searching the ditch for the remains of Shooter in the dark.

“Dude, that was some crazy shit!”

Daniel spun around as Shooter jumped down from his perch on the truck’s spare tire. “I’m OK, I’m fine,” Shooter said, shaking his head and grinning like a little kid. “Wild, man!”

“But how—”

“That big spare tire came at me, I just grabbed it and held on for the ride, prayin’ for a fuckin’ miracle.”

“Looks like you got one.” Daniel turned on his heel and headed back to the car, thinking: And a shiny new polyester prophet walks amongst us. Goddamnit.

“I cannot believe what we just witnessed.” Julia shook her head again, sipped her double rum and Coke in the dim light of the bar.

“Uh-huh,” said Daniel.

“I mean, that is not something you could know was gonna happen ahead of time. It just isn’t.”

“Nope,” said Daniel.

“Your uncle actually predicted the future.”

“Sure looks that way.” Daniel swallowed some beer.

Julia looked at him for a moment, her eyes filled with concern. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Julia. Am I being interviewed by a reporter? Are we two friends talking? What?”

“OK. That’s a fair question.” Julia’s cell vibrated on the table. She held up a finger, answered the phone. “Yes, Herb. When, tomorrow? OK, all right, I’ll be there. Six thirty, fine. Fine, gotta go.” She put the cell down, made a sorry about that face. “My editor. They want me on Good Morning America .”

“Congratulations.” Churlish.

“Come on, don’t be that way. Look, you’re right, I agree, we need an understanding…” Julia sipped her drink again, then reached across the table and put her hand on top of Daniel’s. She spoke with gentle authority. “You phoned me, remember? You brought me into this, and I have a job to do. But everything you say is completely off the record. I’ll use what you tell me to help guide my investigation, but I won’t report what you say. OK?”

Daniel needed to believe her. He needed to talk about the chaos now swirling around his head. He also needed to get his fucking hand out from under hers.

Her phone vibrated again, and her hand left his. She pushed a button, and the phone went silent. “That’s what voicemail is for,” she shrugged. “Now talk to me, Danny.”

“OK,” said Daniel. “Truth is I’m having a tough time with all this. I came here to debunk his tongues act, and the thing turns out to be…” He drank some beer. “I’ve been to see him, actually spoke with him. First time in twenty years.”

“Must’ve been hard.”

“And he’s still a con man, same as ever, only…only this thing is really happening. His tongues act has become real. God has actually chosen this scumbag as his messenger. And what the hell does that imply?”

“You know I’m an atheist, right?” Like it was something he might’ve forgotten.

“I didn’t figure that had changed,” he said. “But the science you worship can’t explain this phenomenon either.”

“The fact that human understanding is limited is not evidence of a deity.” She sipped her drink. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to make this about me.”

Daniel sipped some beer. “All my life I’ve been searching for a miracle…and now I’ve found one. And it’s happening to Tim Trinity , if you can believe that. It’s like some cosmic practical joke.”

“I think it’s a little early to be calling this a miracle.”

“Really? I don’t think so. You saw what happened tonight. Not only isn’t it something you could know about in advance, it wouldn’t have even happened if Shooter hadn’t run into the highway. Which means it wouldn’t have happened if the camera hadn’t broken down or if you hadn’t set up in the median for a better angle or if…Bottom line, our presence there tonight caused that billboard to come down. Just think about that for a second. So many unforeseeable and seemingly random events had to occur in order for Trinity’s prediction to come true, there’s just no way to explain it without the hand of God. And we wouldn’t have been there tonight if I hadn’t called you about the refinery…” He shook his head. “I mean, how far do we want to follow this chain? You wouldn’t have been called about the refinery if my boss hadn’t assigned me to this case…and that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been Tim Trinity’s nephew…and I wouldn’t have even been there for my boss to assign if I hadn’t become a priest.”

Julia smiled. “And if you hadn’t left me, you wouldn’t have become a priest.”

Damn…

The pain of Daniel’s choice came back with full force, as if he were making it all over again. And with it, the guilt. He searched for something to say, but came up empty. Julia’s last link in the coincidence chain hung in the air between them like stale cigarette smoke.

This time it was Daniel’s phone that vibrated. The call display said Fr. Nick . He let it go to voicemail. “I, uh, I still feel…well, I’m sorry about how that worked out, Julia.”

“It was a long time ago. Wasn’t easy, but I got over you. Really, it’s OK.”

Daniel’s heart sank. But I never got over you , he thought.

Julia’s smile widened. “Anyway, here we are again. The Lord works in mysterious ways,” she teased.

Daniel forced a smile, drank some beer. “I know what happened tonight is a miracle, Julia. There’s no other explanation. I don’t want to believe that God would work through a man like my uncle, but He is. I believe in God, absolutely. But I’m starting to think my religion doesn’t describe Him very well.”

A man’s voice said, “Jesus, Julia, there you are.” It was Shooter, coming up fast. “We gotta get you back to the scene. We’re going live at the top of the hour.”