Ash Return of the Beast

CHAPTER 47



Kane’s Apartment…

Kane tossed his keys onto the coffee table and hit the play button on the answering machine on his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a cold beer from the refrigerator, popped the cap and rolled the cool, moist bottle across his forehead. He leaned against the counter, took a sip and listened to the messages. The first two were from mortgage companies offering the best refinancing deals in town.

He yelled at the answering machine. “I’m renting a f*cking apartment, you stupid a*sholes.”

The third message was from a company selling home security systems.

Kane pulled his pistol from his shoulder holster and aimed it at the answering machine. “Got my home security system right here, thank you very much.”

The fourth message was one he hoped wouldn’t be on the machine. It turned his gut into a knot. He tightened his grip on the gun as he listened to the old man’s quivering voice.

…Brian, please… Please, help me for god’s sake… Son, I’m so sorry… Brian, please pick up… I know you hate me… You have every right… But I just… Brian, he’s coming for me… Jesus Christ, son. I’m frightened, Brian. In the name of God, you’ve got to do something! Brian… Son… Please…

Kane moved quickly into the living room and shut off the machine in the middle of the old man’s words. He’d heard enough.

…Messages deleted…

He paced the floor, jaw clenched, his emotions twisted into a mix of anger and frustration. It was the fourth pathetic plea for help that Pastor Pete had left on his machine in the past two days. Even when he was home at the time the call came in he refused to pick up the phone. He had no desire to talk to the old man. He wouldn’t know what to say, anyway. He was still wrestling with his conscience over the whole thing. All he knew for certain was that somebody had to do something and it had to be done soon.

He moved back into to the kitchen, grabbed another beer and sat down at the table. He tipped the chair back and stared at the ceiling. He suddenly caught himself thinking about Ravenwood, wondering what she was doing. Chasing aliens? He let the chair fall forward, planted his elbows on the table, head in hands, and massaged his eyes. Somebody’s got to do something, goddamn it.