What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [122]
Chapter 47. Our Heroes Run Away
“Wow,” said Liam. He’d landed on his back, and was now propped up on his elbows, as if he were just enjoying a casual afternoon in the park.
“What the shit?” asked Raju, his arms and legs wrapped around a tree.
“What was that?” asked Festus.
The four started to get up, dust off, and stagger around – as people who nearly get exploded often do – but were immediately knocked back down to the ground by the force of a second explosion.
“Huh,” said Liam, from where he lay prone.
“Perhaps we ought to consider,” said Lola, “heading in the other direction.”
“Yes,” said Liam. “Perhaps.” He continued to lie where he was, listening to the bustling sounds of men and equipment set against a backdrop of sporadic gun fire.
“Oh,” said Raju, “that sucked.” Festus moaned his concurrence.
There was a third explosion, but Liam, Lola, Festus, and Raju saved themselves the trouble of having to fall over by not having got back up in the first place.
“What the hell is going on?” asked Festus.
Liam spoke to the grass and dirt immediately in front of his face. “I think that someone is blowing shit up.”
“Oh,” said Festus.
Lola stood and brushed herself off. “We need to move. Now,” she said. Liam concurred to the grass. The others moaned a bit. Lola kicked Raju and then turned to nudge Liam with her toe. “Come on.”
“Okay,” said Liam, his face still pressed to the grass.
Lola nudged him again, and then turned back to deliver another good kick to Raju. Festus received something between a nudge and a kick. “Let’s go back the other way,” she said.
Liam slowly climbed to his feet. “Agreed,” he said. “Let’s go.”
The group headed back toward the Deliveries entrance, and went into the church. Inside, things were surprisingly calm – in stark contrast to the madness outside. The hallway leading from the deliveries entrance was cavernous and empty. There were no noises other than their own quick footfalls and the sound of Raju, tagging along in his own time, humming a tune that could have been from a porn movie.
“Where are we going?” asked Festus.
“Shhh!” said Lola.
Liam slowed and leaned over to Festus to whisper. “We can just walk around to the other side, and try to find a different exit.”
“Shhh!” said Lola, again. The urgency of her shushing, however, was diminished somewhat when, as they came around a corner, they ran straight into Bill Cadmon and Dick Whitford. The two men were engrossed in conversation, and were accompanied by a handful of soldiery types, each of whom wore or carried a gas mask.
“Well, they shouldn’t have burned down my goddamned mansion,” said Whitford.
“But I can’t have your military guys all over—” Cadmon stopped, and the surprised expression on his face made it look as if he hadn’t been expecting to find a Messianic doppelganger and his cabal of friends, which wasn’t that odd, really, because he had not, in fact, had that expectation at all.
“This is the one,” said Cadmon, pointing to Festus. “The one I was telling you about.”
“What?” asked Whitford.
“The guy – I told you about – dressed like Jesus?”
Whitford raised an eyebrow – not too far – just enough to suggest that he had no clue what the hell Cadmon was prattling on about.
“I’ve been telling you about this for— never mind.” Raju finally wandered around the corner and into view. “Jesus Christ! How fucking many of you are there?” It was a shocking thing to hear a famous television preacher say, and there was a moment of awkward silence while everyone focused on walls, the floor, and pretty much everything other than Cadmon. Even Dick Whitford grunted.
“Hi,” said Raju, with a cool head nod. “‘Sup?”
“Hello,” said Cadmon, now the polite, telegenic preacher again. Then he shook his head, presumably to get rid of the niceness. He stepped forward and grabbed Festus’ cassock. “What’s your name?”
“Uh, Festus?”
Cadmon slapped him. “What is your name?!