Ex Vivo (#2 EX TRILOGY)

Chapter 3

The priest and the best man kept banging on the door to the sacristy. Obviously George was ashamed of his misdeeds and had probably locked himself in to escape further humiliation. The choir he was in charge of sat in their pews on the left side of the pulpit discussing the incident amongst themselves in undertones, and it was undebatable to notice that some of them definitely knew about their leader's secret life but had waited for such an opportune time like this to blow the news all over.

"Call his phone," the priest said and mopped his sweaty forehead with a towel. He felt very embarrassed by the scene and felt the need to hastily trump the disclaimer that George was not even his biological son, but actually his foster son for fear that those who had long forgotten this fact would begin to reconsider attacking him for breaking his vow of celibacy. Few years before he was assigned to the current parish, he found baby George in his backyard one night and agreed to be his foster parent, revealing him to his congregation as his 'own son'. If he knew this boy would grow up to disgrace him like this, he would not have taken him in the first place.

"Father, did you say he was really your son?" the best man asked.

The priest turned to look at him and pursed his lips. "Young man, mind your own business."

"Oh Father, I was just - "

The priest snapped his fingers impatiently to silence him and massaged his aching backside. "I am a Catholic priest. That's all you need to know. Call George. Tell him to stop this nonsense."

The best man shrugged and searched for George's number in the call log.

*****************

George stared into the dark and felt his eyes straining to adjust to the darkness. His heart started to beat fast as he tried to imagine what kind of person he was anticipating to see beyond the darkness. He took a few steps forward and called the number of the Ex Agent who had been stalking him. He heard the sound of the phone ringing, but this time the position had moved to the rows of clothes on the right side of the room. He groped through the dark and knocked his knuckles accidentally against what felt like a wooden table, but a dull clatter against the wood informed him that there was a metal object lying on it. He groped for it on the table top and felt the two crossed cold metal blades and a pivot. Scissors, George concluded. He picked them up and advanced noiselessly through the row of clothes. Without warning, his phone rang in his pocket and it startled him. He quickly took out the phone and muted it when he saw the best man's name. As the call ended, the battery low signal beeped as well. He quickly muted the phone's sounds and put his phone on flight mode to save battery power. Just when he attempted to turn on the flashlight, the phone went off without warning. He cursed under his breath and stopped to listen. He heard the swish of robes on the rows on his right and he cocked his head in that direction to listen attentively. Just as he moved closer to that row, he heard the shuffle of feet two rows away. He quickly ducked and rushed through the robes, and then he stopped when he heard the sound of loud panting followed by muffled squeaks and sobs.

George smiled. "You're scared," he whispered. "Next time, you will not play a tune you cannot keep up with." He clenched the pair of scissors and held it before him, slowly pushing through the rows of clothes towards the location where the sounds were coming from. He heard more movement, and it sounded like the person was crawling away. Just when he ducked under the last but one row of clothes, the pungent smell of fuel hit him. He sniffed and blinked in the dark. He heard a dull distant dripping sound and listened in an attempt to locate its source. After about a minute, he concluded that it might be water leaking from the air conditioner's vent outside the window. Suddenly, someone whizzed past on his left and he turned impulsively towards that direction just in time to see the blurry lines of a phone's backlight. He crawled quickly in that direction, shifting the grip on his weapon and holding his breath while totally ignoring the sound of his increasing heartbeat. The smell of fuel was stronger in that region and he wondered where the possible leakage was coming from. Just then, he heard a loud gasp and he turned his head to the left to listen. He followed that sound until he found himself facing one of the robes illuminated by a phone's backlight from behind it. He grinned and advanced stealthily towards it, his weapon raised above his head and his breath escaping in short gasps. As soon as he reached for the robe, the light went out and he heard movement. He reached for the inner pocket of his jacket and took out a lighter, which he struck to release a lone flame to give him light.