The Paladin: Lazarus

Chapter 9

Saturday

February 12th

I woke in a cold sweat, my heart beating out of my chest. I nearly fell out of the rolling chair where I'd fallen asleep, but caught myself, learning from previous mistakes. The nightmares were getting worse. I wasn't just seeing Alicia, but Jimmy too. Ah! Damn! My neck is stiff. As I massaged the sore area, I looked around, realizing Blake and I had left my computer on. So I got up from the chair, cracking my back, then flicked on the screen to turn off the game. I exited out, and was about to shut off the computer before a newspaper article caught my eye. Mayoral Candidate, Reverend Barnabas Clay, Found Dead and Mutilated, Hanging From Delworth Dam. I double clicked and saw a gruesome image of Barnabas' desecrated corpse wrapped up in chains, dangling from the dam.

"Damn it!" I cursed. I searched around my room, digging up my phone from a stack of papers on my desk. Have you seen this? I texted Samantha, giving her the link to the article. Saw it on the News this morning. What does it mean? She replied immediately. Zealot never trusted Barnabas, he was just a means to an end. It also means all the information Barnabas gave us is probably worthless. He could set off the explosives at any time at any place. I groaned, throwing my phone into my pillow out of frustration.

"So how did you feel when you were face to face with him? How did you feel saving a man who, by all accounts, is trying to destroy your life?" Liz posed, flicking to a new page of her notebook. She kept one for all of her patients, each one a black leather bound journal, identical in every way. She must have had twenty of them at least, but she could tell each one apart.

"I wanted to kill him," I answered bluntly.

"You wanted to kill him, can you elaborate on that a little?"

"Well, I had a candlestick that would've done the job, but part of me wanted to find something sharp, cut him up like he did to Jimmy, see how he liked it. Though, strangling the life out of him with my bare hands was another option that seemed seemed good," I imagined.

"Then why didn't you? It seems like you had plenty of ways to get it done" she asked, becoming more attentive.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's a crime," I joked.

"So is vigilantism but that's never seemed to stop you," she countered, not having it.

"I don't know Liz, I don't know why I didn't kill him. Frankly I'm feeling pretty stupid about it now. I had a shot and I should've taken it. Now he's gone and killed again. Why did I let him go?" I asked, turning it to her.

"My guess?" she offered. I motioned for her to go ahead. "Its against your code. And no matter how much you wanted to kill him you couldn't," she answered.

"My code? What code? I don't have a code?" I questioned.

"What stops you from killing every criminal you come across?" she posed, following my logic.

"Convenience? Hiding the bodies would be way too much of a pain in the ass," I deflected. She jotted down a few notes, making me uncomfortable. "Look, I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not a knight with a chivalric code and I'm not some billboard superhero like Captain Courageous, who can just wink at the bad guys and get them to give up. I'm a powerless nobody who's fighting in the trenches and because of that I can't have hard and fast rules like everyone else. So I don't know about this code you're going on about but that's not me."

"Do you think it's your father's influence, maybe him being a cop instilled in you certain values," she suggested.

"Yeah, I don't think its my dad," I scoffed.

"Maybe it's your mother then? We haven't talked about her all too much? She's an English teacher isn't she?" she recalled, tapping her pen in thought.

"Yeah, though she's way over qualified. She graduated summa cum laude from Northlake, double majoring in philosophy and education. So our bedtime stories were Apology of Socrates and Nicomachean ethics," I elaborated.

"The unexamined life is not worth living," she quoted.

"I bet that one was real popular in your psych classes," I joked. She jotted another note. "Okay, are you just going to keep doing that everytime I make a joke? What are you making a set list?"

"Why? Does my taking notes bother you? We could record your sessions if you'd prefer, and I could take notes after the fact."

"No, it's fine... just... never mind," I gave up.

"Is something besides Zealot is bothering you," she deduced.

"I guess a little, but its stupid."

"I'm not here to make that judgement, I'm here to help you work through what's bothering you. So what is it?"

"On Friday this girl I like, Courtney, the one I saved at the Policeman's Ball, she confessed she had feelings for me, and for a moment I was really excited. But then, reality hit me. I realized I could never be with her, not as Paladin. Samantha's the only girl that fits into my life and yet I can't see her because she's seeing a perfectly good guy. A guy she deserves. I feel isolated. And this whole Zealot thing is making it ten times worse."

"A man who truly fights for justice must lead a private, not a public life, if he is to survive for even a short time," she quoted once more. I nodded in agreement. "You picked a dangerous and lonely life to live Booker, and it's entirely your decision whether you want to live a different one. Judging from the nightmares, that might not be a bad idea," she pointed out.

"And when something goes wrong, how would I be able to live with myself, knowing I didn't do anything? That I didn't try and fix it?" I sighed.

"I can't answer that for you," she made clear.

"No, I guess you can't," I agreed.

(Meanwhile unbeknownst to me)

Zealot flicked the switch cover on the detonator back and forth, back and forth, mesmerized by its simple motion as his mind began to wonder. Albert and the girls looked at him with some concern as they saw his fingers come dangerously close to the switch.

"Father, do you really think that's a wise idea?" Albert insisted. Zealot was snapped out of his trance and looked up at them, putting down the detonator.

"I'm sorry, you're right. We wouldn't want anything to go awry before the big day. Mercy, Faith, Hope, Joy, you all planted them precisely where I told you to, correct? Right where I marked on the blueprints?" Zealot made clear. The girls nodded in confirmation.

"It wasn't too hard," Mercy began.

"With that distraction you gave us we could've planted one hundred pounds of explosives in that place," Joy continued.

"With that distraction you gave us we could've planted a nuclear bomb in there without anybody noticing," Hope claimed.

"That's good, that's very good girls. Just think. All that we've worked for will come to fruition. We shall bear the fruits of our labor in a new, cleansed world," Zealot praised, patting each one on the head fondly.

"What about the Paladin?" Faith reminded.

"Faith's right Father. He is a liability. If he's not on our side then he is our enemy and needs to be stopped. Send one of us, you said you had his name, right?" Albert insisted.

"When the Paladin becomes any of your concern, I will let you know, is that perfectly clear?" Zealot retorted with the utmost seriousness.

"Yes, Father," they all agreed.

"Good. Now prepare yourselves. We only have a short while before the day is upon us," Zealot made clear.