Pieces of Hate by Ray Garton

Author:Ray Garton
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1995-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

He awoke sitting up in a chair with his hands cuffed behind its stiff, straight back. It took a little while for his blurry vision to clear, but when it did, he looked around to see men standing around him. All of them were wearing odd suits with ties, but one — the driver of the car that had taken him away from his home — wore his uniform, without his helmet, and stood straight with his gloved hands joined before him.

Al closed his eyes and let his aching head drop forward as he groaned.

It sounded dulled, muted, as if Al had cotton in his ears.

“Brother Holt! Will you please raise your head?”

He couldn’t.

Suddenly, the officer’s face appeared beneath his. “The Elder is speaking to you, Holt. Lift your head. Now.” Then, to the others, he said, “I don’t think he understands Brother . . . I mean, being addressed as Brother.”

It was a battle, but he forced his throbbing head to lift and face them again.

His eyes were a little clearer now. There were four men in suits — although the suits were like none he’d ever seen before, with the coat lapels and collars turned inward rather than out and with shirts that had no collars at all. The one on his far left was a pudgy young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, with brown hair and a face that was stern beyond its years. The second was much older, bald except for a few tufts of white hair above his ears and a number of moles on his face and shiny scalp. The third looked terribly normal: a middle-aged man, a bit droopy, with dark hair salted with white, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses on his rather thick nose. The fourth stood behind an enormous desk; he was tall and very thin, with silver hair combed straight back. His suit was different from the others; he had epaulets on the shoulders and he wore some sort of badge where his lapel should have been, but Al couldn’t see it clearly. On the wall behind the desk was a round emblem, not unlike the Presidential Seal . . . but in the center of this was the head of a lamb with a single horn jutting from the middle of its head. On the right of the emblem was an elaborately framed painting of Jesus Christ and, on the left, an identically framed painting of the pope.

And then, of course, there was the officer, standing just two feet away from him.

“You are a mystery to us, Broth . . . uh, Mister Holt,” said the man behind the desk. “You have baffled us . . . just as we seem to baffle you. But before we go any further, let me introduce everyone.” He pointed to the pudgy man at the far left and went down the line. “Deacon Connor, Elder Duvall, Deacon Jenning and, of course — ” He waved toward the uniformed officer. “ — Deacon Potter.

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