The Last Church Read online

  The Last Church

  Richard Lee

  Published by Triskaideka Books NZ, 2018.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE LAST CHURCH

  First edition. October 7, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Richard Lee.

  Written by Richard Lee.

  Also by Richard Lee

  Water

  Ellen

  Cracked

  The Zombie Virus

  Day of the Zombie

  The Game

  Gods of Chaos

  A splash of Red

  The Thin You

  City of the Dead

  Bio Virus

  Luki

  Of Machines and Men

  The Seal

  The Sixes

  The Last Church

  Watch for more at Richard Lee’s site.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Richard Lee

  Dedication

  Prologue | Summer 2363

  Chapter One | April 13th 2368.

  Chapter Two | Christchurch 2014

  Christchurch 1994.

  Chapter Three | Area City 2368

  Chapter Four | Christchurch 1994

  Chapter Five | Area City 2368

  Chapter Six | Christchurch 1994.

  Chapter Seven | Area City 2368

  Chapter Eight | Christchurch 1994

  Chapter Nine | Area City 2368

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven | Christchurch 1994

  Chapter Twelve | No longer in Area City 2368

  Chapter Thirteen | Christchurch April 2014

  Chapter Fourteen | Area City 2368

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen | Three weeks later.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Epilogue

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  Also By Richard Lee

  About the Author

  To the readers of horror

  Thank you

  Prologue

  Summer 2363

  The Devil tucked his baby girl in bed and kissed her goodnight. A smile graced his face as he watched her snuggle under the covers and curl into a fetal position, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

  Squatting down next to the bed, he gently pushed her nose. “Go to sleep now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She nodded her head vigorously, but didn’t close her eyes.

  Their eyes locked and without warning, a cold shiver ran the length of his spine, prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. Slightly panicked, he scanned the room, but saw nothing wrong or out of place. The steel shutters were secure, the closet door was open, and a soft night-light glowed inside; no shadow danced inside or on the floor.

  He was overprotective and he knew it. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He could taste it in the air and smell the disgusting flavor of death. Something or someone was either here or on their way.

  At the door, he blew his daughter a kiss to send her to dreamland, then activated sleep mode with the simple push of a button. He smiled as a blue wave of light washed over the bed and encased her in a protective shield.

  A soft hum issued forth telling the Devil that all was fine. His daughter would be asleep in a matter of seconds.

  He closed her door as she gave him a sleepy wave. In the hallway, he said, “Computer, scan Jenny’s room, then the rest of the house.”

  Scan activated.

  The Devil waited. His fingers twitched nervously and his chest grew tight waiting for an answer. After what seemed like an eternity, the computer said, Scan complete.

  “What are the results?”

  Life forms, three. All have been identified as Jennifer, Laura, and John Watcher. Electrical circuitry is at—

  “That’s enough, computer. Thank you.”

  The house was clear, but that didn’t mean a lot these days. The Meph-man had given him a gift, a foresight to know if trouble was set to pay a visit. And tonight, it jumped like a jack-in-a-box. With every passing second it grew stronger.

  From the hallway, he rushed to the living room. Urgency kicked at his heels.

  His wife, Laura, sat on a thorn colored sofa, punching air with her fingers, accessing the Net. Logged in, she neither saw nor heard him.

  Tomorrow he would upgrade their account to the latest release, containing an intruder activator. Five versions behind was pushing their luck. The personal risks were too high. How many people had been attacked, raped and murdered all because they were plugged into the Net?

  Striding past his wife, he said to the computer, “Activate window.”

  The computer replied, Samoan Wonderland, activated. The steel shutters flickered and a beach scene came to life. Two teenagers ran hand in hand; their feet splashed soft ocean water.

  On any normal day John Watcher enjoyed viewing Samoan Wonderland. It was a peaceful scene of freedom, happiness and not a care in the world. The perfect fantasy.

  “No, computer. Show me the front of my house.”

  The scene vanished and was replaced with a view of his front lawn and the quiet, empty street outside. No cruisers were parked on the street that he couldn’t recognize or put an owner’s face to. Not many walked the streets after the sun had gone down and pre-programmed dog walkers seldom veered from the main street. He liked the suburbs and cul-de-sacs. It kept everything a little more private, a little more secure, especially for his daughter.

  Yet the feeling that something was wrong continued to grow. The night felt different. He was glad Laura insisted on installing the security shield for their daughter. Jenny was the most important thing in his life.

  John turned from the window. Laura was typing in the air, oblivious to everything around her. A slight smile graced her beautiful lips.

  “Computer, interrupt Laura’s Net session.”

  His wife blinked rapidly. Her hands fell from the typing position to her sides as she was forced from the Net. The yellow glow of her eyes faded as the connection using her body as a router shut down and her mind re-entered reality.

  “Hey! I was in the middle of an email.”

  “Something’s up,” he said, unable to hide the worry in his voice.

  Laura rose from the sofa. “Are you sure?”

  John looked outside again. “Yes,” he said. “Go into Jenny’s room and get under her shield.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  John didn’t answer.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, please.” Laura’s eyes watered. “If it’s them...”

  “I doubt it. But if I’m wrong, take Jenny and get out of the house.” John grabbed her shoulders. “Do you understand?”

  Laura stared at the floor a moment, and then nodded, tears spilled to the carpet and she rushed off.

  Outside, he
saw a cruiser gently land in front of his lawn. All four doors opened and five men climbed out. Their ages ranged from at least fifty to mid-twenties, and each one was dressed in standard street clothes.

  He knew who they were.

  They were the five chosen ones from the Order of the Black Snake. Then he saw her, the last one to get out of the car, the betrayer, the cheater, the woman for hire. For the past few weeks, they had been constantly bumping into each other. Suspicious that she was a techno-spy, he ran an ID check and discovered a private investigator known only as Samantha.

  The Meph-Man had told him to be weary of new faces. But the warning had come too late. Apparently, she’d learned as much as she needed to know, for here they were now.

  He had fucked up big time.

  John rushed to the bedroom as a knock came at the door.

  He shoved the bed out of the way, activating a lever that opened a trapdoor leading to the basement he had built only two years ago.

  He heard the front door slam shut, and a moment later, the back door opened on squeaky hinges.

  With no other place to go, John opened the closet door and stepped inside, hoping the bastards in his house would take the bait and enter the basement.

  They would find his dagger, altar and diary, but nothing more. Although no one could see the book apart from him, he had the foresight to hide it elsewhere.

  The little paranoia that had assaulted him when he first came into possession of the book had turned out to be a good thing, in light of recent events, because they were here now and looking for him.

  The bedroom door opened.

  In another room, his wife screamed.

  John almost bolted forth before he remembered the security shield was a DNA password protected device. For the moment, they were safe.

  An Asian man entered. He saw the open trapdoor and looked down the open mouth into the darkness below.

  “Father Kenji,” someone said, “what have you found?”

  “I’m not sure.” He looked at the other man. “Shall I enter, Father Small?”

  “No. Close it.”

  Father Kenji inspected the device and quickly figured out its operation system. He shoved the bed and the trapdoor fell down.

  John sighed softly. They hadn’t taken the bait. He was a goner now, he knew that. But he would not make it easy for them. In a whisper, he said, “Thanks for a great five years.”

  He was about to push open the door, when a third voice entered the room.

  “Where is he?” the new person asked.

  “Think he’s in the basement,” Kenji said. “We closed it.”

  A moment of silence reigned. Then, “Okay. Burn it down.”

  “Excuse me, Father?” Kenji said.

  “You heard me.”

  “What about the wife and child?”

  “Burn everything. I want this house in ashes.” The man was silent for a moment, thinking. In a soft voice, he added, “Start with the closet.”

  John had no option now. They knew he was here. Maybe they had always known and were just playing with him.

  Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he kicked open the closet door and stepped out. “You’re all gonna burn in Hell,” he spat and ran for the door.

  The old guy blocked it. He hadn’t realized how close he was. Three steps took him there. As John reached him, he swung and a solid punch connected with his chin.

  For a moment, John stood still, stars exploded in front of his eyes and before he knew it, he dropped to his knees.

  He watched helpless as the old man, a priest in disguise, walked around to his back. John had no energy to move. He couldn’t even will his head to move and follow the man. He did want to close his eyes, though. He desperately wanted to close them, just for a moment's rest, but he knew he couldn’t. If he closed his eyes for just a moment...

  Someone placed their hands on each side of his head. “With this action, I wash away your sins.” And he violently pulled the head up and the side.

  John heard something break, and then everything, his entire world, turned red.

  The man released him and he fell to the floor like a rag doll. His entire body screamed. Dazed, he lay motionless on the floor. Pain throbbed through his body with each rapid heartbeat. A few deep breaths later, the agony dulled slightly and his vision cleared.

  Pins and needles pricked his fingers and toes, but when he tried to shake some life into them, nothing moved.

  The old man rolled him onto his back. “It’s for the best, son.”

  John wanted to fight back, spit in the fucker’s face and blaspheme as much as he could, right up to the last second, but the pain locked his lips, stealing this last chance for any kind of resistance.

  “Burn the house,” the old man said again. “Father Small, I’d like you to set this up.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “What about the wife and kid?” Father Kenji asked. “They are under a security shield.”

  John stared at the men. The words were muffled, but he clearly understood their intention. He struggled to move, to put up one final fight.

  It was pointless.

  John suddenly realized that the break he heard was the top part of his vertebra snapping. From the neck down, he couldn’t move.

  He couldn’t stop them.

  He couldn’t even try.

  Tears filled his eyes, watered his vision.

  “Father Kenji,” the old man said, in a kind fatherly voice. “A computer is wires and metal. Fire burns wires and warps metal.” He smiled. “Our fire will do the same.”

  Father Kenji nodded.

  The old man removed a dagger similar to John’s, only the pattern on the hilt was different and the blade had a carving of Christ on the cross.

  John struggled to form words, a last stand if he could get his mouth to work. Sweat beaded his brow and mixed with the few tears that had escaped his eyes only seconds ago.

  “Your God...will do you no good...in Hell...”

  The old man smiled at him and handed the dagger to Father Kenji. “Would you do the honors?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Father Kenji measured the weight of the dagger in his hand. He seemed happy with it and grabbed John’s shirt, drawing the blade down the fabric, exposing his chest.

  “Everything’s set,” Father Small said. “Gas is on and I set a couple of charges in the front and rear of the house, just to be on the safe side. I do believe we should make haste on our departure. The timers are unreliable. Oh,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “Samantha’s returned home. She said she’ll meet us next week.”

  John couldn’t see him but knew the end had finally approached. He saw Father Kenji yank the knife down into his chest.

  There was no pain, not even the sensation of being cut. For this he was thankful.

  “Understood, Father Small. Father Kenji,” the old man said. “Take things easy.”

  “Yes, Father. Sorry, Father.”

  “When you take his heart, be merciful.”

  “I will, Father.”

  My heart? John felt the panic rise and did his best to subdue it. He was mildly successful.

  Darkness seeped in as another man entered the room.

  “Father. The wife and child have gone.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see them leave.”

  “Damn it! Go look for them.”

  As darkness stole his vision, John slipped into the abyss with a smile. He heard the screams of a million souls...and was happy, content.

  He regretted none of the choices he had made.

  Chapter One

  April 13th 2368.

  The sun filtered slowly through the partially open curtains of an old house in Area City. Rachael stirred in her bed. Sunlight broke through into her dreams, like a drunk at the bar looking for a fight.

  Slowly rising to greet the day, she said, “Curtains open.”

  The machine's quiet whir cou
ld barely be heard. She looked out at the red-orange dome covering the city. It looked beautiful in the morning, but she also knew what it symbolized.

  Outside the city gates lay a barren landscape with nuclear infested soil. Nothing could grow in it. When she was a child she had seen holograms of the pre-nuclear world. It was full of life. Trees and grass for miles around, and a small township called Opera Sands. A stupid name, she’d thought at the time. But slowly it had grown on her. All sorts of stories originated from that place: werewolves, vampires and demons of all natures and sizes. Only kids' stories, yet there was a course at the university dedicated to the area and its lore. A course she had no interest in.

  Archaeology was her major. The past intrigued her, but myths didn’t get a look in. Often she wondered how the people of old had lived and made money. How different were the teens of yesteryear compared to now?

  The history class taught her about the struggles and heartbreak of her small country, and a war over the flag. It was a war that cut the population of several countries, ending with a nuclear blast. The cost of independence was high. Seven years later, King Harry II gave up his throne and nobody took his place.

  Rachael dropped out after her first year. The course had nothing of what she wanted to study. Ami had introduced her to archaeology. They gained a pass into the barren lands and she discovered the joys of digging, finding and learning.

  Today, she and five others were heading to the famed Opera Sands. A dig there always brought up something, usually more questions Rachael feared she would never find answers for.

  She took a sonic shower. God, this house was old. If she were at her friend’s parent’s house, she would be having a wave shower now and damn, they felt excellent. They were far better than those laser ones that turned out to give cancer. It was one of those rare, tragic diseases that still remained incurable. That and A.I.D.S. were the two mysteries left on this world. Rumor had it that Earth 2 had found cures for both, but they were just rumors.

  Rachael studied her figure in the mirror. She was tight in what she considered all the right places. Those gravity weights they had found at that place called ‘Big Bill’s Gym’ worked better than magnets or those electronic ones found everywhere else.