Devil’s Children by Guy Cousins
Available 2009
Jimmy saw them in his rear view; six squad cars screaming down the freeway in single file, red and blue lights flashing. Overhead, the sky was clear. No choppers – not yet.
Sam Booth twisted in his seat and peered out the back of the pickup. ‘Christ Jimmy, there are swarms of the bastards.’
Jimmy snapped his head round and glared at him. ‘You killed a cop, you dumb fuck. Now the whole damn county’s after us.’
Interstate 80 was up ahead. Jimmy, hit the brakes and steered into it. The tyres screeched, and the back end broke loose, carving figure eights on the freeway. Sam slammed against the passenger door, the M16 still grasped close to his chest. Jimmy wrestled for control, pulled out of the turn and accelerated into the straight.
‘I had to kill him,’ Sam said. ‘The bastard was pointing his gun right at you. He woulda killed you man. I saved your life.’
Maybe he was right. Jimmy had violated parole and was looking at a ten year stretch anyway. What choice did he have? If Sam hadn’t shot him, Jimmy would have.
‘Did ya hear me Jimmy? I practically saved your life, dude.’
__________________________
The Man of Sorrows by Steve Jensen
Available 2009
The truth about Klaus Reinhardt will never be known, so I will invent it for you. It is my destiny to find him, to reveal his Word to a waiting world. I will succeed, because I have Faith in him and no other. I must succeed. I must follow the stories that trail in his wake, the golden leaves that pursue the wind on its endless journey.
They say he is ‘The Man Who Never Dies’, he is ‘Chaos’, he is ‘Satan’, ‘The Black Angel’, ‘Tanchelin reborn’. He has a thousand names in a thousand tongues, and I have heard them all, and made my own judgement; he is my Lord, and I will be his prophet.
After his supposed death, he was seen in many lands. Some of these witnesses were liars, of course, lovers of scandal and mystery. Others reported his return at the cost of their lives, but a chosen few lived to tell tales of murder and madness. And these nothings told all, to any fool who would listen. In my thirty-second year, I too heard the echoes of their desperate pleas for belief. And so I began my quest. In truth, I was called to his side, I know that now.
Let me tell you of my former life. It began and ended at the age of seven, when my father gave me a small, illustrated Bible. Such a thing of beauty it was…but then, poison has often been served in a golden chalice, I’m certain; it’s a trick to deceive the unwary. But at first I judged the volume’s worth by the wonderful colour pictures rather than the cold black text surrounding them – as I opened the book, light seemed to escape from it’s pages. I saw a man named Jesus, a beautiful man, instructing others to live by his flawless example. But this was an impossible dream. At least, it was for me…
I tried so hard to be like Him, but my wretched life made this an impossibility, and I grew to hate that precious book; the pictures bled pastel colours, their beauty faded, and I saw the world, my world, only in tones of black and grey. My father had demanded that I enter the Church, as his father had done, but I had lost the little faith I had ever possessed. My father beat me until I reconsidered…he was so unlike the Christian saviour, yet I couldn’t help but see the similarity – both of them wanted to control me, and both had punishment in mind should I fail them.
I tore my Bible into pieces one night, after yet another beating. That beautiful book mocked me, I felt that Jesus himself had lied about the Heaven that awaits those who suffer; I had died and gone to Hell many times in my seven years, and so had divined the real truth. I learned the uncompromising commands of the Father – they were beaten into me until I obeyed them, and I knew full well the seductive voice of the Son, the Liar.
As the years slowly passed, I resolved that I would never be lied to again. In 1960, Andreas, my only friend, led me into a world without lies; I have never returned…
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