03Rise of the Beast, page 1
BOOKS BY
KENNETH ZEIGLER
Heaven and Hell
The War in Heaven
AVAILABLE FROM DESTINY IMAGE PUBLISHERS
© Copyright 2010–Kenneth Zeigler
All rights reserved. This book is protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America. This book may not be copied or reprinted for commercial gain or profit. The use of short quotations or occasional page copying for personal or group study is permitted and encouraged. Permission will be granted upon request. Unless otherwise identified, Scripture quotations are from the King James Version. Please note that Destiny Image’s publishing style capitalizes certain pronouns in Scripture that refer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and may differ from some publishers’ styles.
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DEDICATION
Dedicated to Cecilia Celeste Farnsworth,
the woman whose life inspired
The Tears of Heaven series.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
I would like to thank my wife,
Mary Zeigler,
who offered continuing editorial guidance.
CHAPTER 1
It was well past 11 P.M. as Leland James and his number one made their way through New York’s Central Park. Leland was a handsome and well-established African American man in his late thirties. He had grown up in New York City, though not in this part of town. No, he had grown up in Harlem, in a rundown apartment with his single mother and his sister. Those were far different days.
Tonight, he and his comely companion were on their way to his current home, an upscale condo on Central Park West. He’d partaken of the spirits rather heavily tonight at the party. Why else would a savvy, street-smart New Yorker be cutting through Central Park at this hour? Certainly not because it was the quickest route home—that was screwy logic, the logic of a man some distance short of sobriety. The nighttime dangers of the park were rather overstated in the stories told to frighten the tourists away. Still, he was not typically a person who cared to tempt fate.
In his younger days, he had conducted his share of drug deals in the park, some of them after dark. They had been small-change deals, really—an ounce of weed here, a couple pills there. He’d never been a hard-core dealer. He didn’t have the temperament for it. He didn’t do drugs himself either—not then, not now; that wasn’t good business. The bottom line in business was making money, not getting high. Those who learned that rule lived longer and got richer, and he had. But he wasn’t involved in that sort of thing anymore. It was just too risky. Most of the dealers he knew from his younger days were either doing hard time or had taken up permanent residence six feet under. No, today he dealt in a different commodity—love.
He gazed over at his fine young lady, a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl just over half his age. She was his number one, his best hooker. When he’d first set eyes on her three years ago, she was an underage runaway from Richmond. He’d seen her potential even then, as she stood in line at the women’s shelter. He’d taken her away from all of that. And she hadn’t become some strung-out street vendor either, dealing in the pleasures of the flesh. No, in his hands, she had been molded into the finest lady of the night, a beautiful princess with both feet squarely on the ground, available for the right price. He took good care of her, pairing her up with only his finest clients.
Yet now it went deeper than that. Of all of his women, and there were many, she was the one he spent the most time with. In fact, during the past two months, Krissie was the only one of his ladies he had spent time with. She was special to him, and he knew that he was special to her.
Leland wasn’t a difficult person to become enamored with, really. He was a handsome man, and despite his lowly beginnings, he was highly intelligent and quite clever in so many ways. He certainly had a way with the ladies. He was a true gentleman in every sense of the word. He took care of his women, made sure that they wanted for nothing. His rules for them were simple: no drugs, and alcohol only in moderation. If they were uneasy about particular clients, they were to walk away. He dealt in quality, not quantity, and quality didn’t come cheap. In reality, he himself set up most of their encounters, assuring the quality of their clients. Those clients were businessmen, bankers, stockbrokers, and politicians, New York’s finest. When the finest didn’t treat his women right—well, he had contacts who dealt with those problems too.
He and Krissie were nearly to the underpass. He was more than halfway home.
“Hey, big man, ya got a light?”
Leland turned to see four young Hispanic men step out of the shadows of a tall oak tree. They looked to be in their late teens, maybe 20. He could see their gang affiliation from their colors, the Latin Kings. This was not good. “Sorry, guys, I don’t smoke,” said Leland, not knowing what to say.
“Well, that’s okay,” said the one in the center, a muscular, heavily tattooed man. “But you still gotta pay to go through our territory.”
Leland evaluated the situation. This youth was right; he was a big man. He could make short order of one of these punks, but the other three—that was the problem. It was his move. Still, there might be a way out of this short of fighting or surrender. “Don’t you think that you should find out who you’re dealing with before you start making threats?”
“OK, homie, I’ll bite. Who are ya?” said the youth, who didn’t sound impressed.
“Someone who works for Louie Pagoni,” replied Leland. “I’m sure you’ve heard of him. You mess with me, you’re messing with him. If you’re short on change, well, out of respect for the Kings, I’d be willing to drop a 50 for each of you. You can consider it the toll.”
The youth looked at his compatriots and smiled. “Hey, this homie knows our gang colors, what do ya think about that?”
There was an uneasy round of low laughter among the youth’s comrades. Leland figured that he had taken the wrong approach.
“I’ll make you a counteroffer, homie,” said the youth. We’ll accept your offer, out of respect for Louie Pagoni. But you gotta sweeten it a bit. Leave us that little lovely as well, and you can go on your way. We’ll take good care of her, return her to you when we’re finished with her. When you get her back, she’ll know a few more tricks.”
“Leland?” whispered Krissie, fear in her voice.
“Hush,” said Leland, who turned once more to the youths. “Not gonna happen.”
“Then I think we are at an impasse,” said the youth, drawing a glistening knife. “You should have taken my offer when you had the chance.”
Leland had some experience in street fighting, and should have been focused on that blade, yet something else had caught his attention. About 30 or 40 feet behind the four teens, near the entrance to the tunnel, what looked like dozens of glistening stars and a blue mist had suddenly appeared. From the mist stepped two men in long, dark-hooded cloaks of a sort that might have been worn by a proper gentleman a century or more ago. They removed their hoods in unison to reveal two handsome, and middle-aged men, both of whom had short, dark hair with just a touch of gray. They advanced in the direction of the growing altercation.
Apparently, the youth had noticed Leland’s expression and turned to see the approaching men. “Well, what do we have here? Why I think we got more travelers needing to pay the toll.”
The men eyed the four youths carefully as they approached. It was the one on the left who spoke. “You young men wouldn’t happen to be bothering these good people, would you?”
The youth looked at the man angrily. “I’d say that was none of your damned business, homie.”
“Oh, I’m not your homie, I assure you,” said the man, setting down his briefcase and drawing closer. “I do, however, have business to discuss with that gentleman behind you. So if you will be so kind as to move along, I will leave you in peace, at least, for the moment.”
“You gotta be kidding,” said the youth, brandishing the blade in the businessman’s direction. “Maybe I ought to cut you up a bit, just to teach you some manners.”
“Bad decision,” replied the man, reaching over his left shoulder and drawing a three-foot sword that must have been hidden somehow behind his back. He went to business on the gang members at lightning speed. Within seconds, the leader’s head had been parted from his neck by a single, swift slash of the shimmering blade. The arms of the headless body reached for the neck, which was spouting blood like a fountain. Then the body collapsed.
Another tried to grab for the other man in black, but barely laid a hand on him before being pushed back. He was run through by the man’s sword before he had time to react. Another of the youths tried to flee, yet it was already to o late. Two swift slashes to the abdomen sent his entrails tumbling out of him, even as he tried to contain them with his hands. He tried to run, yet was unable to hold his own guts in. He tripped over his own intestines, screaming in a shrill, terrified voice.
The fourth youth, who had hardly moved a muscle, just fell to his knees begging for mercy, as the sword-wielding businessman stood over him. “Oh please, don’t hurt me,” he pleaded.
“And what am I to do with you, young man?” asked the businessman. “You would have shown no mercy to these nice people. Had they pleaded with you for mercy, your black heart would have been closed. Let me tell you something, boy; I have listened to more than a few people like yourself pleading before me, many more than a few. I have dispatched them in ways that you cannot even begin to grasp.” He looked to Leland and Krissie. “But, I will allow this gentleman and his lady friend to decide your fate. Those whom you would have done harm to shall decide your destiny, not me. What shall it be, kind people?”
The youth gazed up into the stranger’s eyes. They were so dark, so cold. There was something terrible there, something indescribable. They were like a dark, infinitely deep pools of nothingness. He clearly wanted to flee, but he couldn’t seem to will his body to move. Then he looked to Leland and Krissie, as if to plead for leniency.
For a moment there was total silence. It was Krissie who spoke up first. “Please, let him go.”
The businessman’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Indeed. And what say you, sir? Do you agree?”
“Yes,” said Leland, hesitantly. “Let him go. I think he’s suffered enough.”
“Very well, then,” said the man, sheathing his sword. Again he looked to the youth. “It would seem that your life has been spared, for the moment. Run, if you can. Yet, I tell you this; you will be mine in the end, no matter how far you run. You can’t escape from me, boy; you can’t run from Lusan.”
The young man didn’t have to be told twice. He fled in total panic, even as the other businessman put the disemboweled youth out of his misery with a quick thrust to the heart.
“Are the two of you unharmed?” asked the businessman.
“Yes,” replied Leland, “thanks to you and your friend.” He gazed about at the incredible carnage around him. One thing was certain; these people weren’t a couple representatives of the guardian angels. He prayed that Krissie and he had not just passed from the frying pan into the fire.
“But forgive me,” said the businessman. “We have not been properly introduced. I am called Lusan, and my associate is Duras.”
“Happy to meet you,” said Leland, who didn’t know what else to say.
“I think that we should depart this place,” suggested Lusan. “Bodies tend to attract attention and unwanted questions, especially bodies in the state in which these are in. I don’t think we desire either on this night. Anyway, we have important business to discuss.”
Leland nodded. “Maybe we could go to my place.” He almost regretted the suggestion the moment he posed it.
“An excellent idea,” said Lusan, a slight but devious smile coming to his face. “You must have been reading my mind. I was about to suggest it myself.”
“Please, sir, this way,” said Leland, pointing the way to his home.
Leland and Krissie walked side by side while the two dark-clad strangers followed some steps behind. Krissie looked back at their newfound benefactors, then at Leland. “Do you think this is a good idea? I mean, taking them to our home?” she whispered. “We don’t know what sort of people these guys are. They just killed those men.”
“I really don’t have a lot of choice,” whispered Leland. “But, after all, they did save our lives. Anyway, I’ve got to find out what these guys are all about; I’ve got to know who they are.”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” replied Krissie. “I have this terrible fear about them.”
“You’re nearly in shock,” replied Leland, placing his hand around her. “That’s all it is.”
“Is there a problem?” asked Lusan.
“No, not at all,” assured Leland. “My companion is just a bit shook up.”
“I’m not surprised,” was the reply. “She has had a dreadful fright on this night. I fear that my compatriot and I did little to calm her nerves.” He turned his gaze to Krissie. “I assure you, young woman, you have nothing to fear from me or my associate. I assure you, we are friends.”
“I’m not afraid,” replied Krissie, though her quivering voice betrayed her.
A few minutes later, they were crossing Central Park West. It was quite nearly deserted at this hour. They walked through the great glass doors on the ground floor of Leland’s condominium complex. The rather large concierge looked at the two dark strangers suspiciously.
“It’s OK, Henry,” assured Leland. “They’re friends of mine.”
“Yes, of course, sir,” confirmed the concierge, giving the strangers a wide berth.
“My place is on the eleventh floor,” said Leland, leading the way to a wide hallway, with three elevators on either side.
They only had to wait a few seconds for the elevator, and they were on their way up. Within the confines of the elevator, Krissie was shivering. Leland noticed it right away. He drew her close; it didn’t seem to help.
What was it about these men that so disturbed her? He couldn’t say. If someone should have been afraid, it was him. He had seen them materialize out of nowhere. Krissie hadn’t.
“I feel like I’m suffocating,” she whispered.
What a strange comment. Leland just didn’t get it.
On the 11th floor, it was but a dozen yards or so from the elevator to the door of Leland’s place. He opened the electronically activated door lock with his hand control and disarmed the security system within. The group beheld a plush domicile, just about the best New York had to offer. It was 1,500 square feet of pure heaven.
“I picked it up during the worst year of the meltdown a few years back,” announced Leland, “when property values had really tanked. It’s worth twice what I paid for it now.”
“Leland, you shouldn’t go on like that,” said Krissie.
“No, it is quite all right,” assured Lusan. “There is nothing wrong in having a measure of pride regarding the victories of one’s life. Treasure them, my friend. Your King Solomon spoke wisely when he said that the pleasures of this Earth are fleeting. Enjoy them while you yet live.”
“Can I get you something to drink?” suggested Leland. “Maybe a glass of wine?”
Lusan smiled. “Yes, I believe that I would like a glass of wine, thank you. We have had a busy day, and refreshments would be welcome.”
“Please, have a seat,” said Leland, motioning to a sofa and several fine chairs by a large window that offered a lofty view of the park.
The strangers made their way to the sofa and sat down, gazing out at the park. The site of their previous activities was just visible from here, though, judging by the quiet darkness, it appeared that no one had come upon their handiwork just yet.
Krissie was still shaking a bit, yet she didn’t sit down. She shadowed Leland, as he made his way to the bar.
“I wanted to thank you again, both of you,” said Leland, as he offered to pour an additional glass of wine for Krissie, who declined. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t happened by.”
“It was my pleasure to be of assistance this night,” said Lusan.
Duras nodded in agreement, but said nothing. It seemed to Leland that Lusan was the leader. Duras seemed to be little more than a servant, who likely spoke only when spoken to.
Leland walked over to the sofa, Krissie at his side, and handed a glass of wine to his two benefactors, then sat in the chair next to them. He paused; who was he kidding? This wasn’t just a casual meeting on the street, and these weren’t ordinary people. “But I saw what you did. I saw the two of you step out of thin air, in the middle of blue, sparkling lights. People don’t just come and go like that.”
