Play with Fire

chapter Fifty-Seven

THOSE WHO WISHED to bring the world to an end were up early Sunday morning – although, in truth, only the one calling himself Theron Ware knew that was the real objective.

They made certain preparations to their motel rooms and left before dawn, without bothering to check out. It was still dark when they entered the First Presbyterian Church, bringing with them six large, brightly-wrapped, beribboned boxes. Each box, which would not have looked out of place under a Christmas tree, bore a card reading, “Do not open until after today’s service.”

The boxes were distributed at strategic points around the church. The locations were chosen to facilitate the spread of the fire that would break out during the morning’s worship service. If some impatient soul tore off the wrapping early, he would find a container of hard plastic, sealed by magic and impossible to open.

The incendiaries in place, Ware and his group then broke into Wilson Tire Company, a low, wide building directly across the street from First Presbyterian. They did not turn on the lights, but there would soon be sufficient daylight coming through the windows for their purpose.

Ware opened a large, leather satchel and began to lay out the magical implements and ingredients for the final spell. He talked to the others as he worked.

“The church service starts at ten thirty. That is also the time when I will activate the spell that will ignite the devices we left behind at the motel. The resulting conflagration should draw every fire truck, ambulance, and police car in this town, and probably more. That will put them all several miles outside the city, and well out of our way.”

“What time’s the Big Barbecue start across the street?” Jeremy asked, with a tight grin.

“I want to allow for any late-comers,” Ware said, “so we will start the ritual at ten forty-five. Or, rather, you will, my loyal and trusted friends. While you read aloud the text of the spell, I will use my magic to set off the incendiaries in the church, and then to keep the doors sealed, lest any of the faithful manage to escape their well-deserved fate.”

“When’s... he gonna show up?” Elektra asked.

“You mean My Lord Lucifer? Once the ritual is completed, and the good Presbyterians across the way have been reduced to charred bones and ash, things should start to happen.”

“He oughta be pretty happy, with all the shit we done for him, the last few weeks,” Mark said, his bravado as transparent as the store’s large front window.

“I’m not sure happy is a word I would use in connection with My Lord Lucifer, but he should certainly be pleased with us – pleased enough to give us reward beyond measure.”

“Anything we want, right?” Mark asked. “Money, p-ssy...”

“Power, like yours,” Jeremy added.

So softly that only Ware could hear her, Elektra breathed, “Beauty.”

“Everything you have ever dreamed of shall be yours,” Ware said with a silken smile. “You have my word.”

“What about you, Theron,” Jeremy asked him. “What do you want?”

“I’ll let that come as a surprise,” Ware said. “But I guarantee you this – you will be in awe of what I will achieve. Literally.”

“Sounds really cool,” Mark said. “I can hardly wait.”

“Nor can I,” Ware said. “Nor can I.”