The Serpent and the Crow

Book 3: Chapter Nine

Wade wondered how far the mine went. He thought about where man's ingenuity and engineering ended in terms of how deep the miners reached, and where nature began. The man that murdered his partner and baby was down the stairs leading them to the underbelly of Solemn Pines.

Hank and Jador squirmed their way through a thick carpet of serpents writhing on the ground. The closer they stepped, the more densely packed the snakes were. The ground seemed to give way to black water. Wade noticed they had arrived at the end of all things. The destination was more frightening than Native Indians depicted in their pictographs. His jaw dropped.

Wade saw similar human effigies except instead of adult bodies they were the carcasses of children hung like scarecrows in cruciform. Disembowelled. Disfigured. Dead. It was hard to tell what was a snake, and what was a poorly preserved child. The colonnade of human effigies was smouldering as if the straw that stuck out of seams in their remains were lit like incense candles. Is this how his Mary and Michelle died?

He saw Elmer.

"Freeze, you fucking sick sonofabitch," Wade shouted.

Tracking Elmer with the sights of his Glock. Jador trained her shotgun on him too while Hank covered their six, in case more of those hooded goons cornered them.

"He who loved himself became great in himself. He who loved others became great through his devotion, but he who loved God became greater than all."

Elmer spoke, perhaps directed to whom he served. Wade's heart thumped against his chest as he glanced at Elmer hold a knife to Halonie's throat. Her eyes rolled back. She was compliant as a drug-addled addict.

"Faith begins where thinking leaves off."

"Shut the fuckup, Nietzsche. I swear to God I will lay you down where you stand. Now, drop the knife. It's over."

"Is it, Detective?"

Elmer's forearm tensed and Jador realized that in a split second Halonie's throat will be slit. Blood would pour upon the rock they stood on, in the middle of the blackened lake. Jador thought upon the words Elmer spoke. She recognized it from her days at Northern Arizona University.

"Soren Kierkegaard," She shouted.

"Kudos, Detective."

"Kierkegaard's philosophical treatise, Fear and Trembling, used the parable of Abraham and Isaac."

Elmer removed the knife. He said, "Go, on. Enthral me with your worldliness, Detective."

"What the fuck has Abraham Lincoln got to do with this?" Wade said.

"Abraham," shouted Hank, "From the Bible. God told Abe to off his son Isaac to substantiate his faith in God. Frankly, old Abe should have said kiss my ass, but Abe did it."

"An acolyte of God came down and stopped him. He said to Abraham Now, I know you fear God."

Jador shouted, "You realize Kierkegaard wanted to explore the anxiety Abraham felt given the choices to kill his son or refuse."

"Abraham had reservations. But that's what faith is all about; to kill even when you recognize it is wrong."

"At some point you had doubts, you still do. You don't have to do this."

"Abraham had to kill to keep his belief in God. Tell me, Wade..."

Wade paid attention to him, as Elmer's knife hand repositioned on Halonie's throat.

"Do you suffer from Fear? Do you tremble at the decision before you?"

"For a guy with ten-dollar words, you sure as shit are the dumbest motherfucker I know," Wade said.

"Don't push him, Wade," Hank said.

"Listen to the Chief."

Wade said, "If I must kill you then I ain't afraid to do it, and I've got fast hands. I'll put a bullet in your melon. God will be all right with that. And, I'll go about my business and not think a second more about your nasty fucking ass."

"Do you have that much faith that you'll be able to hit me from there? Do you think this dagger won't kill this little girl? C'mon Detective. There ain't a hope in hell you can make it."

Wade sniffed. his hand was steady.

"Drop the guns. All of you. Right, now."

Jador dropped her shotgun on the deck. Hank followed suit and cursed throughout the entire process. Elmer dealt him a shit hand. He placed his Glock on the ground and rose, putting his hands up in the air like the others.

Hank said, "I don't disbelieve your resolve, friend. But Abe didn't go through with it. He killed a goat or whatever."

"Your point?" Elmer asked,

"Glad you asked. Abe will off his own kid to show his devotion. What will your God say when you kill that kid? She ain't yours. You've made no genuine sacrifice to prove your devotion."

Hank studied the Colt Single Action Army tucked into Wade's belt. Jador looked at it too.

"He's got ya there, Marcus Aurelius," Said Wade, "I don't hear no goats around here either. If I was your God, I'd be pissed."

"I guess my thousandth sacrifice will have to suffice," He shouts out to his God, "You hear me, it promised me eternal life."

"He ain't around numb nuts." Wade said with a smirked.

"My God is around. Your Wife and Child felt it too."

"What did you say?"

"Tell me, Wade..."

He waved his knife around in the air in mockery.

"How much faith do you have, that you'll come up on top?"

"I only have faith in two things, shit-kicker."

"What will they be?"

Wade drew his pistol by the ivory grips. His finger depressed the hammer on the gun. He spun it while the gun was being raised. He held a breath. The tip of his trigger finger pulling. The gun stopped in his hands. Fired.

The bullet ripped through Elmer's hand. It shattered the metacarpal bones. It was so quick Elmer had not noticed his hand was pulp and shredded skin.

Wade tapped the hammer down in quick successions. Each time his uncanny accuracy echoed the fury of trigger pull. Three bullets grouped tightly around Elmer's face. One hit eye, the other struck his temple, and the last one tore through Elmer's tonsils and ripped through grey matter like a freight train, which sent shrapnel exploding out of the large exit wound in Elmer's head.

Wade spun his gun and blew out the smoke pouring out of his Colt. He whirled it before holstering it.

Wade said, "Death and Taxes."

­Elmore Braithwaite fell to the rock. His body slid into the black watery grave. The very snakes he raised followed his blood trail into the lake. To devour the monster. Wade exhaled in relief. Wade thought about one thing. Elmer was dead, dead like fucking fried chicken.