The Ameritat - Chapter 2

McCree was self-aware, but out of touch. His only noteworthy feeling was relief. Relief that he would not be fleeing New York. Relief that the stranger was no longer clouding his mind, or choking the life from him.The presence behind Lucius’s face still taunted him. He turned it over and over. The stranger’s face, like a mask, was immaterial to him. His knowledge of that presence was not in the details of appearance, but in the substance of being; as if he had studied it or learned it long ago. For all of its intrigue, it was a matter best mulled over in a cozy chair with a cup of black coffee, not out on a pier in the middle of the night. He ventured to roll over and take survey, but was impeded.

The first, most horrific detail to come to his senses was the distinct aroma of a fine cigar. Spicy waves of pepper layered over woody notes and sweet vanilla assaulted his psyche as much as his nose. He fought to sit up. It was useless, a weight pressed heavily upon his torso, pinning him down. He heard the steady flow of the Hudson and felt the bitter night air biting at his skin. A pulsing, driving ache in his throat asserted itself. Mournful tears welled in his eyes, afraid of what awaited if he opened them.

McCree had to know, so slowly he rubbed the corners of both eyes; and opened them. His heart fell. There was Lucius, sitting on his chest, glowering over him like a schoolyard bully. A cigar hung askew in the corner of his mouth.

“Excellent. I feared I had killed you,” Lucius broke the silence, “Now, down to business.” Unceremoniously, he flicked ash into McCree’s face. “I’ll ask the questions, you answer them.” His tone was urbane, betraying the brutality of what had just transpired.
McCree was still regaining mastery of his senses, carefully weighing Lucius’s words.

“I understand,” McCree said, “What do you want to know?”

Hot ash pelted the priest’s lips. “You’re already breaking the rules. I ask the questions, remember?”

Lucius stared at McCree expectantly until the priest assented with a reluctant nod.

“Do you know why I need to talk to you?”

“No,” McCree clenched his teeth in a defiant gesture.

Lucius sighed heavily, “McCree, if you were such a colossal icon of ignorance, then you would not still be alive. At the very least you have intuition, so I suggest you use it.”

“To venture a guess,” the clergyman began, “ I would say that you know my itinerary well enough to know where I have been and to know that I would be in New York tonight. You plead chance in our meeting at the cathedral, when in fact you followed me there.” His words were slow and labored. He rested a moment before finishing. “You have already trapped me, must you continue to bait me?”

A sharp blow to the face stunned McCree and left his jaw smarting. “Yet again, you insist on asking questions. Continue to challenge me with such audacity and see what happens.”

“You assume too much in thinking that you may dictate the terms of interaction and enforce rules of thought and conduct on me,” McCree said.
With passion and hate in his eyes, Lucius stood, jerking the priest off the pier and to his feet. He pulled McCree close, jacket clenched in his fist. His voice boomed in the priests ears. The force of it came in waves that repelled the fog and made the shadows cower like servile beasts.

“You will find, Father, that the rules are mine to make. I determine everything, your fate is in my hands!”

“Your mouth is bleeding.”

McCree noticed the trickle of blood trailing from the stranger’s busted lip. His ridicule was met with cool indifference.

“Let’s talk about your Vatican appointment shall we? What is the nature of your investigation?”

“Again, you betray yourself. You ask me to elaborate a point on which you supposedly have no knowledge. Yet, you know enough to ask...”

“And you seem to lack the simple ability to just answer a question.” Lucius interrupted. “Allow me to set the record straight. I know the nature of your appointment. I know you have special directives from the Vatican. What I don’t know, what you seem incapable of relinquishing, is how successful you have been in your investigation. I hate repeating myself. However, for a man of your esteemed reputation and title, I will restart our discourse. Let's be civil, a little cooperation this time, hmm?” He released the priest and allowed him to smooth his clothes and hair.

“Civil would be you buying me a drink over a friendly conversation. If cooperation is what you want, then certainly you can comprehend the mutual action required,” McCree answered.
Pain racked McCree’s body. His joints and back ached. The weight of the outsider pressing on his chest had made his heart beat irregularly. He still struggled to breathe.

Lucius just stared at him, ever nursing the cigar between his teeth, rolling it in his fingers and occasionally removing it from his mouth to admire its band. He seemed content to wait for McCree to concede and answer the question.

McCree groaned with discomfort, leaning his elbows against the pier’s cold, wet railing. He looked out across the Hudson and answered, “I began my service to the Lord as a Jesuit Priest, and for all intents and purposes have always identified myself with that brotherhood. I am an exorcist, and have a papal commission to investigate any concerns too sensitive for public scrutiny.”

Lucius caught the clergyman’s eye and winked, “I would never have thought you a scholar after seeing all of the hardware, Jesuit.”

“The pistol was a last resort, demon,” McCree turned to face the river. “An unfortunate necessity considering the intrinsic danger in exorcism.”

“Let’s not resort to name calling. You have no substantiation for such an imprecation.”

“I have seen enough, spawn. I know your kind. As far as you are personally concerned, I have seen nastier things controlling little girls in Haiti.”

McCree turned to face the outsider, cross in hand once more. Lucius howled with amusement. Smiling, he stepped forward and slapped the crucifix out of the priest’s hand. It flew over the railing and joined its snub-nosed predecessor. With a snarl, he shoved McCree against the railing.

“Unfortunately, the devil is in the details, and my history should concern you. Now, tell me about your most recent investigation. I believe it began with a trip to Rome.”

McCree attempted to resist, but was overcome by the stranger’s presence. Lucius seemed to know enough about him to be able to sort truth from elaboration. While he weighed his options and the details of their conversation, the feeling that he knew the outsider from somewhere in his past again gnawed at his mind. He tried to dismiss it as deja vu, but it was not so easily overcome.

“The Vatican has always responded to worldwide threats with the utmost seriousness. Most people would consider a great deal of the investigations to revolve around superstition, conspiracy theories, and conjecture; assuming the average person even hears of such investigations. Often, the end result of these investigations is just that. We expose legends and myths, local lore, and international intrigue for what it usually is, farce - creative story telling.” McCree swallowed hard and watched as the stranger intently listened.

“Go on.” Lucius moved closer, looming over the priest.

“As an exorcist, I am sent to investigate the most outrageous or potentially harmful situations that warrant the Vatican’s attention. I was sent to Rome to establish the validity of a claim that there exists a secret society quietly influencing worldwide governmental interests and policies. However, this assignment was given to me in an unusual fashion.”

McCree paused a moment to reflect on the details of the encounter.

“Unusual fashion?” Lucius’ voice snapped McCree back from his contemplation. “You said, you were issued this assignment in an unusual fashion, how so?”

“In many cases, a papal commission is a bit of a misnomer. It comes handed down from cardinals or even archbishops. This was a ‘papal commission,’ also my last. The Holy Father hand chose me for the assignment.” McCree’s pride swelled a little in the telling. “He said I was particularly suited for this assignment due to a variety of factors: diplomatic experience, an expansive education, and my track record were cited as essential criteria. Yet, he found me particularly apt for the work, because of my Jesuit background. It was a judgment that has proven remarkably true.”

“Why is it your last assignment?”

“That is the other unusual part,” the priest sighed, “He called it a ‘mission of paramount importance and incalculable danger.’ It was an investigation that has been initiated and ‘lost’ a half dozen times. There is precious little documentation. The most prevalent, coming from the original investigation, was found stashed away in Spain. Apparently, priests that investigate this order don’t live to report their findings. Which, I assume, brings you and me to New York.”

“You sound like a man resigned to his own death.”

“I have long suspected the evil that must drive and sustain such an organization. Given the very history of this doomed investigation, it is clear that the church and humanity along with it faces a terrible adversary. An adversary not easily overcome.”

Lucius shot smoke from his nostrils and turned to stand side by side with the priest on the railing. “You say these things like I’m some great evil sent to destroy.”

“I have no proof as to your substance, but I have all the evidence I need in your intent. You are evil, because you serve evil.” McCree straightened himself and faced Lucius, chest out and chin thrust forward defiantly.

“I see your training has failed you, then. You know as well as I do there is no such thing as a being that is the embodiment of evil. It does not exist for me to serve. There is only the self, and therein lies the problem with humanity. Humanitarians, war heros, philosophers all point inward to some inherent good in mankind. They invoke ego, altruism, or devotion to a god based on whim; but one thing is universal, if it is good, then it must’ve come from within. Now, ask anyone to identify what leads those men astray. What perverts their pure hearts and makes them follow their own lusts? What is their answer? It is always the same; it is the result of evil. It’s an outside force that oppresses and influences.” Lucius remained motionless for a moment. Then, calmly and with calculation added, “However, there is only humanity. For all of the good and the bad, there is only self.”

“You cannot deny the presence of evil in this world, fiend.”

“That is precisely where your species lacks the longevity to understand the ramifications of such thinking. I don’t try to deny the existence of evil, I merely recognize its source. Evil is not a presence or sovereign exercising right and rule. It has no will or agenda. It is merely the byproduct of a free will. Along with that free will, the notion of what evil is and does changes through the ages. Humanity’s understanding and evaluation of evil is always changing, because the human mind and will are always changing.” Lucius eyed the priest triumphantly.

“Rationalize yourself however you like. The Father is the standard by which all evil will be judged and you will not stand in the way of his purposes. I defy you and your intentions. This investigation will be reported to the Vatican, and the Almighty will see his work completed.” McCree moved to rush past Lucius.

The outsider’s wicked grasp once again entangled the clergyman.

“You underestimate the power of free agency. I have been given the choice to submit or to rebel. Your god has no power to break his own rules, he is bound by his nature. He will not violate my free will to cater to your whim. You are adrift in an ocean of supplications and pleading. Your god has abandoned you there. You will sink to the bottom of it before he hears.”

“I have heard enough of your blasphemy!”

The stranger’s tone chilled the priest’s blood. “Like every addict who has bargained for lost time, every child who has cried out for daddy to stop, every woman who has demanded retribution for stolen virtue, every nation that has fled genocide at the hand of a madman, you will be ignored.” Lucius’s chest heaved with the impassioned display. “I am finished with the lesson, now tell me what you have discovered!”

“You don’t believe what you say, or this wouldn’t be so urgent for you,” McCree replied.

“No, I am completely convinced of the veracity of my statements. In fact, you prove them in a way. It is your will I must overcome, in order to have what I want,” Lucius pointed a finger at the priest, “You mentioned previous work done on this investigation, where is it? Tell me what you know of its history.”

McCree was incapable of always separating his own thoughts and desires from Lucius’s intrusion in his mind. He was being manipulated and an awful idea came to him. What if Lucius could not only influence his thoughts, but read them as well? He second guessed himself and decided to give Lucius what he wanted, fearing he would know if he didn’t.

With trepidation McCree responded, “This investigation was begun by the second generation of the Jesuit order. Hence the Holy Father’s estimation of my close connection. Their investigation began as an inquiry into a threat to church authority. Kings often felt threatened by the power of the Church, and at the very least callously held the pope and his officials at arms length. A centuries long conflict over territory, power, and authority has arisen from such mistrust. As a result, several factions continually forced the issue and questioned the presence of the Church in their homelands. Word circulated that one of these groups actually had enough power to extradite the presence of church officials in outlying territories by exerting influence over rulers. The charge for the Jesuits was simple. Find out the purported existence and nature of this organization, and determine any validity to claims the group was a direct threat to church authority.”

Lucius released the priest from his grasp. He noticed McCree was slowly shuffling around him so that he would have a clear path back up the pier.

With a scholar’s attention to detail, McCree thoroughly retraced the history of the churches troubled past with varying monarchies and rulers. He found Lucius less attentive to such history lessons, and reasoned that perhaps he might return to the details of the initial investigation to occupy his attention while he positioned himself to make an escape.

“The investigation was headed by Father Moreno, a priest who entered the Jesuit order via a troubled stint in seminary. He came in under the tutelage of none other than St. Francis Xavier. He voraciously devoured anything in print; he lived for books and research. He was the true picture of a classically educated priest. It was no surprise when he accepted the charge of the investigation with no hesitation. Sources allude he became very acquainted with this secret order and uncovered monumental information. It was a pity that he was the first to be lost. Of even greater disappointment is the fact that all of his research notes were lost with him. He was a faithful journalist, though. A series of personal diaries contained cursory information on his hardships and successes, thereby providing me with enough information to retrace his work.”

“Interesting that you only have a surname, to go by.”

“Interesting that would matter to you; but, yes, that is all I uncovered, except for a couple of obscure references found in a nun’s prayer log of all places. The detail of entries and faithful supplication on his behalf, I believe, alluded to a romantic inclination. Initially, she referred to him as Father Moreno; and later, in more personal entries, used his initials, L.M. I uncovered this early in my own investigation. Must’ve been fifteen years ago. At any rate, I found an entry her final writings. Apparently, she let down her guard and called him...” McCree choked on his words. Initially, the recitation of the events came so much by rote instruction that he did not immediately recognize their significance, but now his skin tingled and the hair on his neck stood on end.

“Well, what did she call him?” Lucius folded his arms across his chest with a smug look.

McCree’s face stiffened, the paralysis of a horrifying realization setting into his features.

“Impossible! that was over 400 years ago,” he blurted.

“Is it?”

McCree stumbled backward until he collided with
the pier’s railing. A life time passed between each driving thump of his heart as he hung limply on the musty wood. Its beat like the plodding cadence of an executioner’s march moving ever closer to the damned.

The presence he felt in the stranger all this time was no premonition. Rather, it was a recollection. He knew the mind of Lucius like that of an old friend, for it was the research of Father Lucius Moreno’s investigation that consumed the first years of his own inquiry.

“Stupid old fool,” McCree berated himself under his breath, while struggling to stand.

“And the truth shall set you free,” Lucius laughed.

“No one really believes that such things could be true. We wake up every morning taking all of life for granted. We have to take it for granted. We would be neurotic if we continually questioned reality, and paranoid if we believed every concoction spewed from a fertile mind,” said McCree.

“That is, until the anomaly occurs and reality crashes down. You really are a pitiful lot.”

“An exception has to be experienced before it can be believed. I know my enemy because I engage him in conflict. Yet, nobody could’ve convinced me that the Kudret existed as they seem. A veiled or obscured reality, but not like this. Not even after all of my research. Years I have sought them and to no avail, this can’t be happening. It...it just isn’t possible.”

“Shh,” Lucius silenced McCree, placing a long finger over his mouth. “Some things are best left unsaid. You’ll not have to carry the burden of your knowledge long. This situation is far and above your concern or control. Tell me where your research is. I will evaluate what you have uncovered and then decide how best to deal with your meddling.”

McCree trembled under the force of his revelation. Prior to this evening the priest could only postulate weak theories about the nature of his inquiry, a secret organization that was only seldom referred to as the Kudret.
“If what you say is true, then this search was once your own, why do you need to know my progress?” McCree asked, shrinking back at Lucius’s cadaverous touch.

“I have already taken a great risk in affirming the Kudret’s existence to you. I have to protect its secrets.”

“I have a higher calling; I won’t let God or humanity down.”

Lucius moved slowly toward McCree. His hand gently cupped a round cheek and patted reassuringly.

“You haven’t let anyone down. You have faithfully traveled down your path. You have been led to me, your search is over. Surely, you can appreciate the honor in such a journey. Surely, you can see the hand of God in this,” Lucius said.

The good Father was a wreck. The stranger’s soft touch and soothing voice drew him to submission. He couldn’t fight Lucius’s presence any longer. He wanted to comply. He longed to be released into oblivion. He relented and looked up into Lucius’s face like a sick child imploring his mother for relief. As McCree caught the iridescent glint of those golden-red eyes he jerked back from Lucius’s touch.

“If you will not willingly give me what I want, then I’ll have to let someone else lead me to it.”

“As a friend to all that is holy, no! I defy you! You shall never have my research. It will be published to the Vatican and the Kudret, in light of my new revelation, will be exposed and dealt with properly,” McCree said.

“Assaulting me with more of your ill-conceived postulations? At the moment you are a friend to no one, let alone God. A peasant doesn’t recline at the table of the king and address him by a childhood nickname. You have supposed too much in your intimation. Find comfort in your last moments anyway you like, please don’t lie to yourself.”

“He has promised that not only will I recline at his table, but that I will reside in his house. He is the friend that stays closer than a brother. Send me to my reward, demon. I’m ready,” McCree said with a resigned look.

“Sadly, you’ll be surprised to find what awaits you. Your attitude reflects a casual disrespect that has replaced what a healthy fear would save you from. Go to your friend then, and tell him who sent you.”

Lucius’s strike was swift and lethally effective. The priest’s neck snapped and his large frame slumped to the pier.

* * *

Operator: “911...What’s your emergency?

(crying) “Oh! My God! You have to send help!

Operator: “Miss I need you to calm down and tell me what has happened.”

“He’s dead.” (crying)“I have to go! I have to go!

Operator: “Please, stay on the line. What’s your location?”

“I saw it all, that monster just stepped on his
head and walked over him like it was nothing!”

Operator: “Please, I need your location so that I can send help.”

“I am on the pier... (screaming and sobbing) He
walked right by me and smiled - he smiled at me!”

Operator: “Which pier are you at, Miss? I need to know which pier you are at.”