The Gospel of the Font

Chapter 16

"I'll ask again," Roberts says over the phone. "Am I speaking with the Adversary?"

"What the fuck do you want, Roberts?" I ask. I'm not wasting any formalities or small talk on this gaudy piece of shit. It's been months since that day on the roof where Roberts pointed a gun at me. That was the last time I saw him or even spoke to him, but it hasn't been hard to keep up with his doings since then.

Reverend Roberts has taken to TV and radio almost daily to preach against me. I'm mentioned in every sermon, I'm demonized in every book. Fuck, he even held a seminar once just on the dangers of listening to me. This man has gone largely out of his way to make my life a living hell. Speaking with him now is making all the anger I have for this loud-mouthed, leather-skinned jackass come to a head.

"Faith, it is you," he says through the speaker. Though I can't see him, I can tell that he's smiling. I imagine him hunched over and rubbing his hands together like Mr. Burns from The Simpsons, but I'm sure he's not really doing that. "It's been a while since we've spoken."

"You've said plenty of shit about me since then," I snap. "Tell me, are your efforts to wreck my life paying off? Are you converting more mindless sheep to your flock of idiots?"

"I only do as my Lord commands," Roberts responds. "You are the enemy of God. Your works are contrary to His plan for humanity. I simply..."

"Spare me the sermon!" I shout. I hear another burst of tears come from Molly who is sitting on the sidewalk being comforted by Tim. This is understandably upsetting her, but I'm too furious to hold back. "Are you behind the Red Letter Redeemers?!"

There is a moment of silence on the other end of the line, but I know that bastard is still smiling. "So, you've met the Redeemers," he finally says. I wish I could be surprised, but I can't. Who else but Roberts would have both the resources and the hatred for me necessary to put this group of crazy militants together?

"So, it is you."

"Now, I cannot confirm any personal connection I may or may not have to the Redeemers," Roberts says. "However, I must say I respect their diligence and dedication to carrying out the will of the Almighty."

"Several of your puppets are in jail now," I snap. "I'd say they're off to a great start."

"It is only a matter of time, my dear," Roberts says. He's starting to use his trademark preacher voice on me and it's only making me iller. "The Redeemers are everywhere. They are in every state and every city. There is nowhere you can go that they will not find you."

I pull the phone away from my ear and hit the END button. I've heard enough. I don't need another second of that man's voice in my ear. I sigh as I fall back against the streetlight behind me; the metal poll sends a chill down my back.

"It's Roberts, isn't it?" Tim asks as he walks up beside me. The glow from the lamp above us casts a downward shadow on his features.

My head falls back, sending out an echoing clang as it strikes the poll. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "It's Roberts."

"You know," Tim says. "You could have figured that out for yourself."

"Don't start."

"Come on, Faith," Tim says in an exasperated tone. "What is that damn book for if not...?"

"We've been over this," I say. "The book is for the revelation of hidden knowledge, not prying into the lives of other people."

"Even when doing so could save your life?" Tim asks.

I sigh. "It's a slippery slope. You start going down that path and you inevitably wind up somewhere you don't want to be."

"What's the point of having it if you're not going to use it?"