Better The Devil You Know - Prologue

Prologue
The tower of the Holy Ghost Byzantine Catholic Church stretched high in to the morning azure sky, the onion domes resplendent against the brilliant blue of the summer morning. It was early but not so early that the doors to the church weren’t open.  Tom paused at the doorstep, did he need to go in?  He knew what he had to do and knew that it was God’s work, the cold metal lump in his coat pocket was the tool, the flaming sword of justice.  He didn’t need a last minute pep talk.  He just needed the courage to do what had to be done.
He set off walking, turning onto Ella Street and heading for the McKees Rocks Bridge that would take him into Pittsburgh, to his destination, to his destiny.  He smiled at the thought, it sounded poetic and that wasn’t his style anymore really.  The smile evaporated when his mind returned to the job in hand.  This was serious business, God’s business.
“Got a dollar man?” said a gruff voice.  Tom looked down and what he had assumed was just a pile of blankets and clothes.  A bearded dirty face was looking up at him, a gloved hand outstretched attached to a man that could have been anything from 25 to 60, it was impossible to tell.
“Erm, sure,” Tom rummaged in his pockets and found a five dollar bill.  He handed it to the ageless man.
“Hey man, I don’t want charity, I ask for one dollar, a buck, you too stupid to tell the difference,” growled the man.
“But that’s all I have, I don’t need it, you can have the five,” stammered Tom, somewhat taken aback by the sudden anger in the face of a good deed.
“Keep it, I don’ wan’ it,” the man scrumpled the note in his hand and threw it back at a shocked Tom, “I don’ wan’ folks a-thinkin’ I need more ‘an I ask for!”  The green and white paper ball landed at Tom’s feet, he could just see the eyes of Abraham Lincoln staring up accusingly, harshly as though he agreed with the vagrant.  Tom bent down to pick up the note.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, I just thought..”
“WHAT THE HELL YOU DOIN’ MAN!!” yelled the pile of dirty clothes and blankets, “YOU STEALIN’ MONEY FROM A HOMELESS GUY, GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE AFORE I CALL THE COPS MAN.”  Tom straightened up and hurried away confused by what had happened.  Even trying to do a good deed in this world was seen as an evil thing sometimes.  Well, only one good deed left to do today.  He walked up towards the bridge, breathing deeply trying to put straight in his mind the differences between good and bad after what had just happened.  Why wasn’t he grateful?  Why was he begging in the first place?  None of it made sense.
The river sparkled as each ripple, each swirl, each movement caught the sun.  Shimmering like molten silver the water eased on its way, winding through the American heartland.  It looked so beautiful, so refreshing.  The sun was beginning to heat the air around him and a dip into the cool water of the Ohio River seemed so appealing.  Despite the heat, Tom kept his jacket on, his hands stuffed deeply into his pocket gripping the cold metal for security.  The task ahead wasn’t easy but he needed to have faith that he was doing the right thing despite the nagging doubts, the inner voice telling him this was wrong.
The rush hour traffic was stopping and starting, horns blowing, people shouting.  The heat didn’t help, it must have been like hell in those metal boxes, air conditioning or not.  The faces of the drivers were becoming contorted with anger and frustration, road rage was building inside most of them and the slightest incendiary spark could set off a cataclysmic riot, or a mass walk out something akin to an REM music video.  Probably the former though.  He caught the eye of one young woman in an electric blue Mini Cooper.  She was very pretty, short dark hair, huge eyes.  She seemed relaxed, at ease with her surroundings, in total contrast to the pandemonium of the rush hour bridge crossing.  She smiled at him and for a moment he paused.  Before he could smile back the traffic moved and the moment was gone.  Tom started again, easing past them, ambling but ambling with purpose, his eyes fixed ahead, intent.  As he reached the other side of the river he ducked off the main highway, wanting to stay off the Ohio River Boulevard.  That would have been absolute gridlock at this time of day and he didn’t want the noise of the traffic to get into his head.  He slid down an embankment, across the railway tracks and upon onto New Beaver Avenue.  The State Penitentiary was at 3001 about half a mile away.  Another comforting squeeze of the cold metal in his pocket, he closed his eyes and said a quick ‘thank-you’ for giving him this holy task, a task that would put him on a par with other holy warriors, paladins such as Richard The Lionheart and David.  He was going up against evil as David had gone up against Goliath and in his pocket was his slingshot.
The inner debate raged within him still but Tom knew that was the voice of Hell, wanting to keep evil alive on Earth for his own pleasures and uses.  Tom would do his part to bring the downfall of darkness today.  God’s war against Satan raged through eternity and this was to be the latest triumph.  His gate turned from amble to purposeful stride as he neared the Pittsburgh State Penitentiary.  A crowd was already gathering, there was even a news camera van there, a couple of people with crudely daubed placards stating “Killers Burn In Hell” and “Child Murderer”.  It’s fair to say that Tom wasn’t the only person in the Pittsburgh area to be waiting for this day, the day of his brother’s release.
As he got closer a couple of people turned and saw him, they recognised him.  He had expected this, expected abuse but nothing happened.  They stared at him but slowly moved out of his way, as though they knew he was on a higher mission.  One woman even smiled at him.  The news crew filmed him but the reporter kept her distance.  He made his way to the front of the crowd and the security guard opened the gate for him.
“You going inside Tom?” asked the security guard. 
“Not today Gordon, today my brother comes to me,” he said calmly, knowing if he went inside the metal detector might put a quick end to his plan.
“No shit, I wondered what these people were here for. Nothing quite like a welcome home party I guess,” said the security guard smiling.
“I don’t think Mike can have too many complaints after what he did to that family, do you?” He fixed Gordon with a stare that made the 6ft 5 security guard feel 5ft 1.
“Erm, no I guess not.  Have a good day Tom, been nice getting to you know you over the years,” he said awkwardly and stuck out a massive hand.  Tom shook it and turned to stare at the penitentiary doors.  He had 20 minutes to wait before his task would be done.
His mind raced through all the signs that had led him to this point.  The endless violence on the news, innocent lives being lost, the rich getting richer all the time, starving millions, children living below the poverty line in squalor.  His eyes closed and a tear crept down his face.  Even the homeless guy this morning had only hardened his resolve.  He had tried to do some good and had it flung in his face.  That would happen this time.
After a while the noise of the crowd increased.  Tom turned to see that it had trebled in size and now included 3 more news vans including WTAE that had led the call for Mike to get the death penalty.  All the cameras were focused on the brown doors of the penitentiary.  The noise from the crowd was subdued, chatting, nothing more but it suddenly rose as the doors opened and a figure walked out flanked by 2 prison guards.  Tom recognised his brother who smiled at him.  The noise behind rose to a feverish crescendo, normal people suddenly turned animalistic and brutal, baying for blood and death, screaming
“Another example of evil in the world,” thought Tom, “Mob mentality.  They think they are pure and good but they are no better than the killers of the world.”  The prison guards stopped Mike and took of his handcuffs.  Mike rubbed his wrists thankfully and then held out his hand to shake the guards’ hands.  The one who had unlocked the cuffs shook it, the other shook his head and walked back to the anonymity of the prison interior, smiling to himself, knowing that his token gesture would get him on the 6 o’clock news later.  Mike shrugged his shoulders and turned to walk toward the gate, the waiting news crews, they baying crowd and his brother.
“Tommy,” he called as he approached, “It’s a great day to be a free man.”  He smiled and rubbed his head with both hands, feeling the fresh morning air between his fingers and follicles.
Suddenly a blinding light erupted inside Tom’s his head, like a flashbulb exploding in his eyes, a booming voice entreating him to stop but the light was quickly dulled by shadow, the voice evaporated and Tom felt the heat of fury welling inside him and heard a simple whisper.
“Do it now, Tom and live for eternity.”
“Tommy, I didn’t even know you was comin’,” said Mike, still smiling broadly, ignoring the venomous calls and chants from the burgeoning crowd.
“I wasn’t but there is something I have to do,” said Tom slowly and pulled the cold metal Ruger BR9 8mm out of his coat pocket, flicking the safety off and pointing it directly at his brother.
From behind a woman screamed, men shouted and panic ensued.
And Tom pulled the trigger.