NOTE: All scripture quotations are from the New King James Version

Illustrator Tatiana Polivanova

Translator L. Alekseeva-Kozlova

Illustrator All photos from: Pixabay.com, Unsplash.com, Pxhere.com = === Frames from: Viptalisman.com

© Lily Alex, 2020

© Tatiana Polivanova, illustrations, 2020

© L. Alekseeva-Kozlova, translation, 2020

© All photos from: Pixabay.com, Unsplash.com, Pxhere.com = === Frames from: Viptalisman.com, illustrations, 2020

ISBN 978-5-4498-4289-3

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Special thanks to Elena Kozlova and Andy Crichton for their invaluable help in editing the novel and developing some of the story lines

Illustrations by Tatiana Dmitrovsky,

Member of International Union of Artists and Graphics Professionals

Part One

A bolt of lighting flashed from the highest sky, exploding the dusk for a moment. The thunderstorm brought all its wild rage upon a small gray sedan, moving along an empty city street.

What a night! a man, driving his family home, thought, worried. Dark as in the Devil’s stomach.

He glanced at his wife, sitting next to him, then – in the rearview mirror, checking out his baby daughter, in the back, fastened into her child’s seat.

“Momma… tired!” Yawned the little girl, trying to stay awake. She craned her neck in order to look out the window. She adored thunderstorms and never liked to miss them.

“Awww, did you enjoy your birthday party, lil’ Mary?” The mother asked, turning back.

She smiled as her child nodded and slowly drifted off to sleep. Her husband wasn’t so calm. The streams of heavy rain limited his view, and the wipers were almost useless.

Driving under the sea would be easier, he mused, concentrating all his attention on the road. His wife touched his arm. “You’re doing fine, honey.”

***

A luxurious black car, dark as midnight, was moving in the opposite direction. Wearing posh clothes, a slim man in his twenties was driving it recklessly.

“Mister Noirson, sir,” sitting on the front seat, his companion, who looked visibly older, warned him. “Even humans know the rule – don’t drink and drive!”

“You’re right, Roger!” The younger man laughed. “Humans.”

“Oh dear me!” Roger rolled his eyes. “But your human body is under the influence now! Shit! We almost hit the bus! Let me drive for Satan’s sake!”

“Don’t use the name of my Father in the same breath as a swear word!” The driver guffawed again. “The Third Commandment – let me remind you!”

““Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain’, you mean, eh?” Roger’s attractive lips curved into a weird, blood-chilling smirk. “And let me remind you, My Lord, that Your Father arranged me to watch after you, and in the situation, like this, you have to listen to me!”

“Come on, Roger, I’m fine!”

“Don’t mind him, Robert, honey!” A pretty young woman in a tiny black cocktail dress reached out to the driver from the back seat. She massaged his slender shoulders, and he tilted his head back, enjoying her gloved touch. He was looking forward to arriving and watching her lace hands work their magic elsewhere.

The lights of the closing vehicles crossed, blinding the man in the family sedan.

In both cars, the women screamed, and the drivers hit the brake pedals at once.

Too late…

Slipping on the wet surface, the cars had no time even to slow down. The impact threw the young woman from the back seat, and she smashed her face against the front window. It was a sickening thud, but that was just the beginning of her fate. The rest of her body followed it, twisting like a rag doll. Bulletproofed for an outside attack, the windshield had been designed for easy access from inside, and the woman fell out onto the hood in a fountain of fragments of broken glass. She rolled down and the car slightly jumped, running over her body.

Like a killer whale, gnawing on a dolphin, the black car hit the unfortunate sedan, pushing into it with its huge mass, squashing it almost in half.

The roof of the family car was lower than another one had, and now it thrust inside the vehicle, and the cross, dangling on the rearview mirror, was swinging between Robert and his companion.

The vehicles finally stopped, and, swearing, the men rushed out as if someone splashed boiling water all over them.

Outside they looked at each other, and Robert managed a confused smile.

His companion cast a few quick glances around.

“No witnesses and no police at least,” he said coldly. He pointed the dead woman. “Go ahead!”

“If I do it, I won’t have any power for everything else!” The young man tried to argue.

His companion did not avert his eyes, Robert did.

Quietly cursing, he closed to the woman, and touched her. She sat up at once, and looked about with horror. “What happened?”

“Shut up, and do what I’ll tell you,” Robert told her gloomily. He helped her up, and led to the cars.

“Get it off,” he ordered, pointing the cross. The woman obeyed. Robert glared at her so she hurled the cross away as far as she could.

Roger smiled. “Nice job, sir.”

Not answering the mock, Robert returned to the car, and drove back a little bit. Clenched together, the vehicles didn’t separate.

“Damn you, Roger!” Robert shouted. “Hold this fucking car!”

“I can’t,” his companion replied calmly. “There are two more crucifixes inside.”

Robert spat, and got out again. He was thinking for a while. The rain stopped, and clouds were gone, showing the moon, spying at the scene with indifference.

“I liked this car,” Robert said with a sigh. “Oh well, let’s just set it in fire, and go home.”

“There’s a child inside.” His companion pointed at the family sedan.

“Alive?” Robert wondered. “Roger, I’m not human, I can’t kill an innocent one.”

“Me either.” Came the cold response.

Robert drew closer, and peeked in. The little girl was still sitting in her seat. The head of her parents were next at each side of her, but the child couldn’t understand the meaning of that.

She tagged at her mother’s ringlets then stroked her father’s blond hair. Robert and his companion watched in unbelieving, as she reached out to him, and took a cross that her father was wearing around his neck then put it onto herself.

“Mom, looky me!” she said happily.

“Very impressive,” Robert dropped coldly. He addressed to his woman; “Get the girl out!”

“Come here, little one!” The woman tried to fulfill the order. She unfastened the child, but when she took the girl into her arms, the baby started to wail, scratch and even bite.

What a monster! The woman thought, struggling to hold the girl. She felt as if she was handling a wild porky-pine.

Vexed, Robert looked around; on the empty street, the child’s voice sounded louder than any siren could.

“Do something!” he shouted, stomping his foot.

“I know!” Roger said and with a smile, quickly took the child’s safety seat out and the woman strapped the baby in. “That way, we’ll be safe from her,” he added, half-joking.

Mary still cried, but now, it was slightly easier to carry her even if she shook from side to side, trying to make them let go.

The woman and Robert ran away, leaving Roger to finish his task.

“Mama! Dada!” the child called, looking back at the car.

Soon after, an explosion was heard. The blazing flames from behind lit the dark street for a little while.

“All done.” Roger joined them again.

“Look, that sound woke someone up in that church over there! I see lights!” the woman, carrying Mary, said panting, “Let’s leave her here.”

“Can’t we get her to the police station or something?” Robert asked, grimacing.

“No, this church is the only option we have…” Roger sighed, frowning. “It’s pretty far from anything else! We’ve got no choice.”

“Oh well… Hurry up or the people in the church will see us!” Robert commanded.

The woman placed the seat on the steps and all three adults disappeared in the darkness of the passage between the buildings.

***

Robert had breakfast, when Roger threw a newspaper in front of him, and pointed an article.

“The only survivor… Maria Jablonskaia…” Robert read aloud, his look ran over the text. “Blah-blah-blah… You see, not a word about us!”

“Oh dear me,” Roger replied, rolling his eyes. “But nobody can predict how our actions can affect the future.”

“Uh-uh,” Robert answered, not listening. Another news column took his attention.

Again

It was the usual charity fundraiser and Robert Noirson was bored.

Forty-two-year old now, a respectable businessman, not for the first time had Robert been involved in a benevolent arrangement in his capacity as sponsor, so he knew the entire event thoroughly. Some speeches, some performances and he would write a check. Reporters would then take some pictures. It was easy, typical and terribly boring. Robert tried not to yawn.

He totally forgot about the car accident that he caused almost eighteen years ago. He was watching the gymnastic performance with indifference, not knowing that the leading gymnast was the very same girl, which they left all alone on the steps of the church in the middle of the night.

Now her personality attracted his attention. He liked her stern self-confidence that so corresponded with his own attitude. She was not the girl of his dreams, but her spectacular head of platinum blonde hair atop an elfin, and quite curvy frame amazed him.

Robert felt a warm, tingly feeling emanate from his stomach. Moving with hidden energy, the girl was like a genie in a bottle, and it peaked Robert’s curiosity.

“Who’s the girl in the green track-suit?” he casually asked a priest, sitting next to him.

“It’s Maria Jablonskaia, Mary J.” Father Frank smiled. “Our pride and joy. She could be a professional gymnast, but the poor girl has no ambition!”

“Everybody has ambitions,” Robert retorted derisively. “Just in different walks of life.”

Looking at her breasts profiled perfectly by her tight fitting leotard, Robert could see that it was her more mature figure that would probably dictate why she would not be a professional. Even if she had been the most dedicated athlete on Earth, she was not quite petite enough.

Damn, he was thinking hard. Why does her name sound familiar to me?

Suddenly he recalled.

Oh My Father! he screamed inside himself, ashamed. It’s her! Well, I suppose I ought to take care of her. I didn’t think her parents were her only relatives. Poor young thing… Who could expect – she was so alone.

“Could you introduce me to her?” he addressed to Father Frank again.

“Sure, Mister Noirson!” Sister Augusta joined them. “Mary is a good, obedient girl.”

“Obedient, eh?” Robert’s eyes narrowed. “How obedient?”

“Well,” Father Frank laughed nervously. “A little.” He looked knowingly at the Sister, who bit her lip with the thought of just how disobedient Mary could be.

“Don’t worry, Mister Noirson,” she said, sounding assured, but with diametrally different feelings.

***

Mary finished her part and looked across at her tutors, talking and casting glances at her. She caught the dapper forty something executive type sponsor propping his chin up with his fist, gazing at her like a snake, hypnotizing a bird for his prey.

Another rich bastard looking for a young toy, Mary thought with irritation, Last month that tarty hag, now – him… Well, he’s male, so at least it’s understandable. But anyway, why is it that when people have money they think they can just hit on anyone they like – don’t they have any moral bases?

She caught a glimpse of Father Frank waving her over. She pretended not to notice, and went off to the changing room.

“Mary!” she heard, but the girl didn’t look back.

***

Mary emerged from the shower only bothering to tie the towel around her waist. Her extremely long blonde hair was dripping wet over her eyes and she was vigorously rubbing her bangs dry as she walked elegantly across the tiled floor towards her cubicle. She jumped surprised, when she looked up, to see Sister Augusta, waiting for her.