Jesus Saves, Chapter Fifty-Three

Damn women. They had all fled to what they thought was a safe distance. All except three, and they were now dead. Time had cheated him out of his revenge.

And now, he was finding that his other targets had also disappeared. Someone was on to him. Someone was preventing him from the satisfaction of seeing all who’d destroyed him dead.

He screamed in frustration. It was that damned Detective in charge of the case. It had to be. But he dared not attack his nemesis. Not yet, anyway.

He just needed to refocus…find a different set of targets to sate his thirst for blood and vengeance. He reminded himself that it was just a game. Seek a target. Set up the target’s demise. And then follow through. Just a game.

He was playing a terrifying game of chess with lives. He had been checked, but it wasn’t the end of the game. He had been successful in taking his opposition out of play, but not at destroying them. Yes. That was it.

He had successfully played one round. The rest had been draws. And now, the pieces had been removed from play by others. Yes. That was the best way to look at it.

Since he could no longer play by the rules he’d set up, he would make new rules. Find new pieces to put into play. Pull targets at random. Yes. That should make it more interesting.

No more letting just the newspaper or the past decide. Now, he would seek out strangers. Husbands cheating on wives. Wives cheating on husbands. Child abusers hiding behind the mask of piety. Priests. Nuns. Doctors.

He smiled. Rich and poor, no one was going to be safe anymore. The police had seen to that. Now, it was open war. One that New Orleans would not soon forget. He would be famous. A legend.

He pulled the phone book from a shelf. And the business guide. It was time to find new targets. New game pieces.

He started to laugh uncontrollably as he thumbed through the phone book, pen in hand. His only hope was that his nemesis wouldn’t learn where he lived. That would mean that the game was over. Oh, hell. He would just have to begin moving from location to location.

Yes. That was what he would do. It would keep him one step ahead. As soon as they found one location, he would already be at another. He cursed himself when he remembered that he’d leveled that whole block of abandoned houses. They would have been wonderful hideouts. But too late, he had used them as a diversion after killing Sam.

He marked about a dozen preliminary targets, then got up to begin packing. Only the most important stuff, nothing big. This wasn’t about comfort. This was about mobility.

It was about making a clean get away. Hiding in plain sight. keeping his whereabouts a mystery, while still being out in the open and taking out targets. He smiled.

He would just take his plans. And the minimum needed to make his bombs. He would leave all else behind. If he could, he would come back for the rest of his tools. If not, he would just have to make do. It was the only way.


Misty and Morgan were boarding the jet again. This time, they were off to Australia. It was their three-year anniversary and Morgan had planned another wonderful trip. She couldn’t believe that they had been married for three long, wonderful years. It was like a dream. Or a vision.

He was her white knight and she was his princess. His Queen. Their love had grown deep and supplanted the space where only emptiness had existed before. The same emptiness that had allowed for the voices and nightmares that had plagued her before. Now, she was nightmare-free and had been for three years.

She had begun to heal, and believed that she was nearly finished. She had never felt this good. Never. Not that she could remember, anyway.

And she had Morgan to thank. She still couldn’t remember who she was, not that she cared anymore. Misty was as good a name as any. It fit her like a glove. And she loved hearing him whisper it over and over to her as they made love in the night.

All that concerned them was that they still had not had any children. She wanted desperately to give him the heir that he desired, but something held her back. Had her past damaged her beyond the point of no return? Had it taken her ability to have children?

Morgan had set up an appointment with a specialist for her. She would be going to find out after they returned from Australia. But right now, she was looking forward to a week of being Morgan’s only focus. She had grown to love these little anniversary trips. They always meant that he was only going to pay attention to her. Nothing else. No business. No outside distractions.

And the plane rides were half the adventure. Everything started on the journey to their destination and finished on the journey home. She blushed at the thought. He had brought her back to life. She didn’t know what she would do without him.

Morgan sat down beside her and buckled himself in. He looked over at her. “Ready for the most wonderful adventure of your life?”

She looked lovingly back at him. “Yes.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

She reached over and put her hand on his cheek, letting him know that she desired a kiss. He lowered his face to hers, their lips touching. Each kiss seemed to last an eternity to her.

She smiled after their lips parted. “I would be lost without those sweet kisses.”

He smiled back at her. “I would be lost without you, My dearest Misty. Don’t ever forget that. You are my world. My universe.”

She run her fingers through his curly hair. “You are my universe, too, Morgan, my love.”