Page 27 of The Last Straw

So while Jeremiah was erasing the Church of The Righteous from the web, Preston Davis sent a man to Raver’s home to erase him.

Two hours later Jeremiah came out of the house with the last of his things—two suitcases full of clothes. He had a bag in each hand and was heading for his car when he saw movement in the trees beyond the house.

He paused, his heart racing, staring intently, trying to discern if it was animal or man. But he never got a chance to figure it out, because Preston’s hit man put a bullet between Jeremiah’s eyes.

Between one breath and the next, he died. He fell flat on his back, the suitcases beside him, while the blood from his body poured out of the gaping hole in the back of his head. He’d lived his adult life preaching about Jesus, but he was about to meet his Maker on a whole other playing field.

Jessup Wallis was in Texas, driving westbound on I20 and coming up on Longview when he got a call from his girlfriend, Britta.

“Hey, honey, what’s up?”

“Jessup, a woman just put out a quarter of a million dollar bounty for the name and picture of each man Jeremiah Raver sent to get her. And since you told me your trip was just an errand for your preacher man, I’m assuming one of them is you.”

Jessup felt the blood draining from his face. He swerved to the side of the interstate and stopped the car before he passed out.

“What? What the hell? How did she find out? She can’t do that. Why, that’s outright murder for hire!” he said, then Britta snorted in his ear, a sign she was not pleased with him.

“She found out because Barrett Taylor gave y’all up. She took him down with a Taser, and then got it all on video, so he’s sitting in jail facing a butt load of charges. As for the murder for hire comment, what the fuck do you call what y’all were gonna do to her?” Britta cried.

“We ain’t takin’ no money,” he muttered.

“No, but if your job was to kill her, then that makes you a hit man. The good part is, she don’t want none of you dead. She just wants your identities.”

Jessup groaned. “What for?”

“She’s gonna plaster them all over the media for free, so you’ll know what it feels like to be targeted. And just so you know, your preacher’s gone missing.”

“The bastard,” Jessup muttered. “Raver starts a war and then he’s the first one to turn tail and run. So whoever turns me in gets the money?”

“Yes. But it can’t be anyone connected to the church or to you.”

“Shit. What do I do?” Jessup muttered.

“Well, it don’t take a genius to figure that out. Turn your ass around and come home. Did you tell anyone else where you were going?”

Jessup groaned. “I might have mentioned it when I was drinking with the boys last night, but I ain’t sure. I was pretty lit.”

“You’ll know soon enough,” Britta said.

Jessup groaned again. “Thanks for lettin’ me know, sugar. I’m gonna turn around right now and head back. I’ll likely get home sometime tomorrow. I can’t believe Raver. I didn’t sign up to be betrayed by my own preacher. He preaches hellfire and damnation for sinners, and then turns tail and runs when his own hide is in danger? I did not sign up for this. They can’t arrest me. I didn’t do anything.”

“Whatever...but don’t think you’re coming back to shack up with me. I never wanted anything to do with your church, and I got my own reputation to worry about now. I can’t be tied up to you in any way, and have my picture all over the Facebook and the Twitter.”

“But, baby...you can’t just—”

“I’ll put your clothes on the porch,” she said.

The line went dead in his ear.

Jessup stared at the phone, and then laid it down in the seat, pulled back onto the highway and began looking for a place to turn around.

Six

Farrell Kitt was a thirty-something-year-old farmer with a pregnant wife and three kids—the oldest having just turned nine. His devotion to the Church of The Righteous was just one heartbeat less than his devotion to his family.

His one regret was that his wife, Judy, did not share his love of his church, and refused to go herself, or let him take their children there. She didn’t know what he was doing when he packed up and left this morning, other than he’d promised to do a favor for Jeremiah. He was a long way from home, but was still on I49 in Louisiana, heading to Shreveport, when his cell phone rang. When he saw it was Judy, he smiled and answered.

“Hello, sugar. How’s my favorite girl?”

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