‹ Prequel: Chasing the Enemy
Hellfire
Ain't no chariots of fire Come to take me home
“Why are you even doing this?” My sister, Rachel, hisses. “You didn’t visit her in the hospital or even attend her fucking funeral. Why are you suddenly interested in Mom’s grave?”
“I’ve been dreaming about her grave and the church where her and dad got married, since her death.” I tell her as I stuff my Pink Floyd t-shirt into my duffel bag. “I can’t explain something I don’t understand. It’s like my being called to that church.”
“Maybe you’re finally feeling guilty for having never seen mom during her battle with cancer.” Rachel spits. “I had to take care of her while you went off doing God knows what with God knows who.”
“I was in school. Doing something with my life.” I scoff. “I wanted to get out of his God forsaken town. I refused to end up like you and mom in dead end jobs at the local bar and diner. I wanted to be…”
“Be like Dad?” She finishes. “You wanted to abandon what family you had for what? Freedom? Get it through your head, Madisyn, Dad isn’t coming back. He found a new family and he’s happier with them. Him leaving is why Mom got sick.”
“She got cancer because of secondhand smoke.” I roll my eyes, stuffing more clothing into my bag. “Don’t be delusional, Rachel. Dad leaving had nothing to do with Mom getting sick. And me heading to Mom’s hometown has nothing to do with me feeling guilty. Because I don’t feel bad for not being able to get out here. It’s not like she cared about me. She told me if I left, I wouldn’t be welcomed back here. She closed the door, not me. Not if you excuse me, can you please leave so I can finish packing for my trip?”
“I hope you know what you’re doing little sister.” She sneers. “Because nothing good is going to come out of this trip, I’ll tell you that.”
**
I pull up to the church, or the plot of land that used to be a church. There is police tape everywhere as well as several fire trucks and police cars. A group of locals surround the area, watching as the local church goes up in flames. I cut the engine of my ‘69 Camaro and get out, slamming the door shut behind me.
“Excuse me?” I gently touch the shoulder of a young woman. “What happened here?”
“No one knows.” Her Tennessee accent draws out the words. “The church just went up in flames. No one even stepped foot on the land that day either. It’s just strange. I wonder who could have been so Godless to do such a thing.” With that she walks away and before she could get further away from me, she gets stopped by two very good looking men in FBI standard black suits. I’m assuming FBI standard suits because they just whipped out badges to show the girl.
Why the hell are the Feds involved? I think to myself as I head back to my car. I start the engine and begin my journey towards my motel. I’ll explore the grounds later on tonight when the crowds die down...
“I’ve been dreaming about her grave and the church where her and dad got married, since her death.” I tell her as I stuff my Pink Floyd t-shirt into my duffel bag. “I can’t explain something I don’t understand. It’s like my being called to that church.”
“Maybe you’re finally feeling guilty for having never seen mom during her battle with cancer.” Rachel spits. “I had to take care of her while you went off doing God knows what with God knows who.”
“I was in school. Doing something with my life.” I scoff. “I wanted to get out of his God forsaken town. I refused to end up like you and mom in dead end jobs at the local bar and diner. I wanted to be…”
“Be like Dad?” She finishes. “You wanted to abandon what family you had for what? Freedom? Get it through your head, Madisyn, Dad isn’t coming back. He found a new family and he’s happier with them. Him leaving is why Mom got sick.”
“She got cancer because of secondhand smoke.” I roll my eyes, stuffing more clothing into my bag. “Don’t be delusional, Rachel. Dad leaving had nothing to do with Mom getting sick. And me heading to Mom’s hometown has nothing to do with me feeling guilty. Because I don’t feel bad for not being able to get out here. It’s not like she cared about me. She told me if I left, I wouldn’t be welcomed back here. She closed the door, not me. Not if you excuse me, can you please leave so I can finish packing for my trip?”
“I hope you know what you’re doing little sister.” She sneers. “Because nothing good is going to come out of this trip, I’ll tell you that.”
**
I pull up to the church, or the plot of land that used to be a church. There is police tape everywhere as well as several fire trucks and police cars. A group of locals surround the area, watching as the local church goes up in flames. I cut the engine of my ‘69 Camaro and get out, slamming the door shut behind me.
“Excuse me?” I gently touch the shoulder of a young woman. “What happened here?”
“No one knows.” Her Tennessee accent draws out the words. “The church just went up in flames. No one even stepped foot on the land that day either. It’s just strange. I wonder who could have been so Godless to do such a thing.” With that she walks away and before she could get further away from me, she gets stopped by two very good looking men in FBI standard black suits. I’m assuming FBI standard suits because they just whipped out badges to show the girl.
Why the hell are the Feds involved? I think to myself as I head back to my car. I start the engine and begin my journey towards my motel. I’ll explore the grounds later on tonight when the crowds die down...
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chapter title credit: Hellfire by Barns Courtney.comment&subscribe?