The Devil's Children by Benjamin Blake & James Ward Kirk

Author:Benjamin Blake & James Ward Kirk [Blake, Benjamin & Kirk, James Ward]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: James Ward Kirk Publishing
Published: 2016-10-03T00:00:00+00:00

Sixteen: Holy Water

Wycombe Catholic Church was deserted.

Harry and Adam walked through the lobby carrying a beaten brown leather attaché case. They had bought it from one of the thrift stores in town for a couple of bucks. Harry also found an old silver Zippo lighter.

Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, and fell upon the empty pews in reds and golds. Dust motes floated lazily in the beams of light, making Harry feel this was more of a forgotten place than a sacred one.

Harry thought back to the strange apparitions they had come across all those years before. They weren’t the shadow-cast demons that they would expel from this earthly realm, but ghosts proper, or, so he believed.

Christ stared down at them from where he hung on his wooden cross. His eyes seemed to be displeased – or maybe it was just Harry’s imagination.

The holy water rested in stone fonts – one on either side of the pews at the nave’s entrance. Harry sunk into a crouch, and popped the catches on the case. He took out several empty plastic shampoo bottles – the kind you find in motel rooms, and started unscrewing the caps. He then handed them to Adam, who dipped them into the bowl and filled them with the blessed liquid, before handing them back to Harry.

With the last little bottle filled and secured, Harry snapped the catches shut and stood.

“Adam! What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m blessing bullets in holy water, what does it look like?” He continued to plunge handfuls of pistol ammunition into the bowl, and then dry them off on his sweatshirt.

“Will they still work after they’re wet?”

“Don’t know. I guess so.”

“Okay, then.”

And as they used to say as kids, and that was that.

They also took a bible from the church (they had more use for it than the priest), a silver crucifix that was hanging in the unlocked office (small towns are trusting), and a couple of candles (in case the power went out at the house).

They were now pretty well equipped in the “supernatural” department. The next step was to do a little recon mission to Holstein’s house.

They found his address in the phone book: 1021 Bradbury Road. The evening was starting to creep along at that point, and it suited the men quite nicely. They had left the car a couple of houses down from the church; they climbed in, and headed for Holstein’s.

1021 Bradbury Road was a sprawling house just outside of town. A tree-lined gravel drive wound up to the house that was mostly hidden from view from the road. No lights burned in its interior, though several security lights were on outside.

“Looks like the bustard’s not in,” Harry said, cruising past at a speed that wasn’t fast enough that they couldn’t get a good look, but not so slow that they looked suspicious. “I’m thinking we should take a closer look on foot. We can cut through one of the fields on either side, and follow the hedgerow “till we find a point of entry.

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