Jimmy’s fist connected with his shoulder this time, knuckles smacking the tender flesh where the nitrogen had scalded him. Quinn cried out as tears flooded his eyes. The pain was something alive, writhing in time with his accelerated heartbeat.
“Listen to me, beast, you have no power here in the sovereign nation of God Almighty. You will answer my questions or suffer his wrath.” Spittle flew from her mouth as she spoke, some of it landing on his face as she neared him. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Quinn breathed. Behind his back he began to feel how he was bound to the chair. The rope around his wrists wound through one wooden support. He touched the wood with his fingers. It was decoratively carved, and thin.
“Good. Again, admit that you are the cause of this plague of the body and mind that has killed so many of the unfaithful and changed the rest into creatures designed by the fallen one.”
Quinn glanced past Jimmy and saw a rickety wooden door set into the building behind him. There was no handle on it. He nodded.
“I am.”
Jimmy inhaled and tipped his head back, closing his eyes. He began to mumble a prayer under his breath. The woman traced the sign of the cross on her forehead, the manic smile still pulling at her mouth.
“I knew it. The moment I saw your cursed face, I knew we’d found the cause of the downfall. Jimmy, go get him. Tell him the news; tell him he was right.”
Jimmy turned away and pushed at the wooden door, which swung open. No lock.
“Before you go,” Quinn said, stopping the man in his tracks. “You should know you’re all doomed. By bringing me here, you’ve killed yourselves.”
The woman’s smile finally faded as she looked at Jimmy. The man pulled the door shut and flexed his fingers before balling them both into fists. He stepped forward, winding back his right arm, knuckles raw and red from their prior use.
Quinn snapped both his feet up and kicked Jimmy in the chest.
The other man’s eyes widened, and he made a squawking sound in his throat. Quinn felt his chair tip backward and tucked his hands beneath the seat as far as they could go as he fell. The chair hit the concrete floor, the impact jarring him. Wood cracked and he pulled hard against the ropes binding him. There was another loud snap and the bindings at his wrists loosened.
Quinn rolled to the side and felt the back of the chair come with him. Then Jimmy was above him, a short steel tube shining in one hand. Quinn drove a heel out and caught him in the crotch. Jimmy blanched, his knees unhinging. As he fell, Quinn whipped his foot around and connected with the other man’s chin.
Jimmy’s head rocked to the side and his eyes rolled to the whites. He crumpled backward, his skull cracking like the chair against the floor.
“Help! Demon!” the woman shrieked, and started to run across the small room toward the door. Quinn bucked his hips up and slipped his wrists past his ass, then brought his knees to his chest, threading the rope over his feet. By the time he was able to stand, the woman had escaped the room, her shrill cries like that of a wounded bird. Quinn ran to the door, banged it open and paused.
A huge, open yard spread out around him, the new grass of spring growing everywhere. Dozens of cabins lined the edges of the clearing in a circle and several massive oaks grew at its center. A long, low building to his right had a large steeple growing from its roof, a steel sculpture of Jesus hanging from its wide cross. The woman was running toward the church, glancing back every few steps, her dirty hair floating behind her. She yelped seeing him outside the structure and poured on more speed. The door of the church opened and two men stepped outside, their eyes squinting in the bright sunlight.
Quinn ran.
He pelted away, head throbbing, stomach sick with adrenaline, skin slick with sweat. A woman holding a small child opened the door to a cabin ahead of him. Her eyes bulged and she retreated, slamming the door shut. Yells grew behind him, more and more voices joining in until it sounded as if a mob were pursuing him.