Ultimate Thriller Box Set - Crouch Blake. Страница 37

Bub went to work on the other arm, but Thrist had gone to another place in his mind. He knew Bub was twisting and breaking his body, but he no longer felt any pain. He could picture heaven, as Bub had described it. Eternal bliss. His faith had been restored, and Thrist had no fear of death.

Not even when Bub pulled off his leg.

“Fooooooool,” Bub hissed at him. “Open the fucking dooooooooor.”

The priest looked up at Bub and smiled beatifically through his veil of tears and blood.

“I forgive you,” Thrist whispered.

He didn't feel it when Bub bit off his head.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Rabbi Shotzen thought he heard a scream. He stopped his prayer and listened.

Silence.

He began again in earnest, intoning under his breath, “Kadosh kadosh kadosh...”

Another scream. This time he was sure he heard it. Moving cautiously, he approached the door and opened it a crack.

The Red Arm was empty.

He craned an ear to listen.

Nothing. Not a sound.

Perhaps it wasn't a scream. But he should check. He'd heard the gate open a few minutes ago. It had been Father Thrist, visiting Bub in full church regalia. But that couldn't have been Thrist who screamed. Even he wasn't foolish enough to go into the habitat.

Then again...

Rabbi Shotzen was overcome by a sudden burst of urgency. He grabbed his bag of Molotov cocktails and held onto the lighter, and then he rushed out into the hall and saw...

Bub was crawling out of Red 14.

“Jesus Christ,” Shotzen said.

The demon pulled himself through the tight fit of the door and cocked his head at Rabbi Shotzen.

“Shalom, Raaaaaaaabbi,” Bub said.

Shotzen set down the bag and with shaking hands and took out the first bottle.

Bub couldn't stand erect because the ceiling was too low. He crawled up to the first gate, and to Shotzen's amazement, punched in the code.

The bars swung open.

Shotzen flicked the lighter. Once. Twice. Three times. No flame. He looked at it and saw he had the wrong one.

“Your friend Faaaather Thrist,” Bub said, crawling forward, “has something to saaaaaay.”

The demon opened his mouth and coughed. A red ball flew out of his throat and bounced before him, sticky with goo.

Shotzen took a closer look and saw it wasn't a ball.

Bub picked it up and held it out to Shotzen.

Father Thrist's head, slicked in gore.

It blinked.

Then it blinked again, and opened its mouth as if to say something.

“What's thaaaaaat?” Bub asked, holding his other claw to his ear. “You’ll have to speeeeeeak up.”

Shotzen gagged.

“He wants to talk to yoooooou.” 

The creature chucked Thrist's head at the Rabbi. On reflex, Shotzen dropped the bottle and the lighter and caught it with both hands like a basketball. The firebomb fell to the ground and shattered.

Shotzen stared at the head in his hands.

“Kill me,” the priest's lips clearly said.

Shotzen yelled out in shock.

Bub laughed so hard he vomited out Father Thrist’s leg. It flopped onto the floor and wiggled like a fish.

Shotzen threw the head into the wall as hard as he could, hoping to end the priest's misery. He reached for the second Molotov cocktail and took another lighter from his pocket.

“Back to the pit with you,” Shotzen declared, shaking with rage. He flicked the lighter and the two inch flame jumped up to ignite the gasoline soaked rag. The Rabbi threw the bottle at the ground before the beast. It shattered, showering Bub with a wall of flames.

The demon screamed. The stench of burned hair and cooked meat invaded Shotzen's nostrils. Bub batted at the flames with its claws and rolled in the cramped hallway, trying to staunch the flames.

“What the hell?” Andy said. He'd come out into the hallway fifty yards further down, on the other side of the second gate. Sun appeared a moment later.

“Stay back,” Shotzen warned them.

Bub burned for almost a minute before the sprinklers came on.

The flames died down, and then smoldered out. Smoke began to clear. Shotzen stared in amazement as Bub's burned flesh seemed to wash away under the water stream. He shook like a wet dog and shed the scorched flesh. Underneath his skin was new and unharmed.

“Now it’s my turn,” Bub said.

“Rabbi!” Andy yelled. “Come on!”

“Run!” Shotzen yelled back. “He knows the codes!”

Bub was on Shotzen in a single lunge, scooping up the holy man in a claw.

“Codes?” he asked. “There is mooooooore than one?”

He dragged Shotzen to the second gate and punched in a  code.

Nothing happened.

The demon roared. It was the most horrible sound Shotzen had ever heard. Like the thunderclap of a terrible storm.

“What is the code for this dooooooooor?” Bub demanded.

The talons were digging deeply into Shotzen's body. If he'd been skinnier, it might have killed him. As it stood, they were only imbedded in fat, causing excruciating pain.

“Race!” Shotzen called to Andy. “The bombs!”

Andy nodded, grabbing Sun by the hand and disappearing into Red 3.

“The coooooooode,” Bub said. He tightened his grip.

It was like being prodded with hot pokers, the Rabbi thought. The pain was worse than anything he'd ever known.

“Shema Yisraeil, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad,” Shotzen gasped.

“Ah, the Shemaaaaaa,” Bub said. “Deuteronomy six four. Rabbi Akika, riiiight?”

Shotzen thought of Rabbi Akiba ben Joseph, the man who compiled the Mishna in the first century. He suffered a horrible death, tortured by the Romans, but still proclaimed his love for God as he died. His last words were the Shema.

“How did Rabbi Akiba die?” Bub asked. “Remembeeeeer?”

Shotzen remembered. The thought of it had given him nightmares as a youth.

Bub said, “I want the doooooooor code.”

Shotzen shut his eyes and prayed. “Barukh Shem k'vod malkhuto l'olam va-ed.”

Blessed be the name of his glorious kingdom for ever and ever.

“Rabbi Akiba was skinned aliiiiiiiive.”

Shotzen quaked with fear. Bub pinned the rabbi to the ground and ripped away his clothing.

“Paaaaaaainful,” the demon said. He sunk two claws into Shotzen's shoulder and began to pull.

“And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might!” Shotzen screamed.

He'd said the words a thousand times. Ten thousand. They were the words in his mezuzah on his doorway, the words in the tefillin he strapped to his arm and forehead for morning aleinu.

“The cooooooode,” Bub ordered.

Shotzen thought of his life. Of his parents. Of Reba. Of the congregation that didn't want him and the children he never had.

“Give me the code and I'll make yoooooooou better.”

Bub had healed Race's wife. He had seen them together, in the Octopus, laughing like children. Shotzen had no doubt that Bub could heal him now. Perhaps even fix his sterility. Shotzen could live through this, maybe even start a family. He knew that if he gave Bub the code, he didn't have to die.

Bub began on his leg, pulling and ripping. Shotzen fought against the agony and continued to pray.

“And these words that I command you today shall be in your heart!”

Perhaps fifty thousand times he'd said the Shema in his life. He'd meant it every time. But he'd never truly understood what love was until that moment. Loving G-d with more than heart and soul and might. Loving Adonai with your life.

Shotzen's eyes were somehow forced open.

“Seeeeeee this?” Bub held up what looked like a bloody rag. “This is your faaaaaaaaaace.”