Page 47 of Inferno

I assure you that I am none of these things. I am a student, I am the teacher. One day the truth of what I aim to accomplish will be fully realized. I will have completed the work I set out to do, and I will disappear forever, never to be seen again.

You will not stop me. Just as the fire consumes its fuel, so I will be consumed.

The work that was begun with Richard Sylvana shall be completed. I will bring his dream to fruition, and yet more…

One day soon I will transform. I will become the master and finally what I am meant to be. I will ascend beyond heights Sylvana never realized. Able to go beyond the meager beginning he achieved before he failed.

There will be no such failure for me.

My heart is pure. My intentions will be realized, the final steps irrevocable. The end. A new beginning. The start of something else rising from the ashes of what never should have been.

We will meet again, Detective.

One day soon.

Richard read it over twice,made a couple of corrections and then hit Send. He sat back in the chair, now aware of the quiet drone of humanity, life forced to mute itself to adhere to the strictures of this building. The same way the police, the fire department, would have to bend to his will.

He wouldn’t be stopped, no matter how hard they tried.

A small chuckle slipped from his mouth. He swallowed it back down. They thought they were so clever, but he would forever be smarter than each of them. As much as this sorryexcuse they called a taskforce tried, they might as well admit failure. Inevitably, they would fall far short.

He logged off the computer—and whoever had left their library account signed in.

Richard used the facilities on the way out. Then walked outside, past the bike rack, and glanced back at the gentleman smoking a cigarette there. “Those things’ll kill ya.”

A chuckle was the only accompaniment he had to the curb, then the step off. A walk to the car.

He climbed in, enjoying for a moment the stifling heat of the interior. Before the air-conditioning pumped enough cool air through the vents to break the heat.

Soon enough, it would consume everything, even him. But there would be no rush. Richard would ensure all the pieces were in place, the setup so flawless it would be executed perfectly. Destruction. Cleansing. All of it would be the ultimate statement, and he would be at the center of it all.

Reborn.

The only way to continue to the next stage of his life was to complete the mission here on earth. To finally wash away all the sin he had removed with the sizzle and curl of flames. Heat that purified the heart of man, consuming all that did not deserve to remain.

Leaving only holiness.

Richard parked and threaded through the lot to the rear entrance of the building. The meeting had already started, but his usual spot in the back row remained empty.

Up at the front of the room, a banner hung from the ceiling behind the altar. The cross, that instrument of torture, flames of fire on either side. Orange and red fabrics, sewn around the symbol of new life. Laced with gold thread so that it flickered and danced the way that flames did.

He had known the first time he saw it that he believed.

Reverend Jameson read from the Good Book, a huge ceremonial tome that took up the whole pulpit. He took a deep breath and said, “Yet once more I shake not the earth only, but also heaven. And this word, Yet once more, signifieth the removing of those things that are shaken, as of things that are made, that those things which cannot be shaken may remain. Wherefore we receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear.”

Richard knew these words. He had hidden these things in his heart, but one day soon all would be revealed. The will of God on earth would be realized.

The final verse he spoke aloud, along with the pastor and everyone else in the room.

“For our God is a consuming fire.”

NINETEEN

Julio closed the door of his work truck and walked from the engine bay to the entrance that led into the firehouse, his jacket in one hand. Gripping the material tight gave him something tactile to focus on—something outside of his mind and the images still swirling there.

“I’m gonna hit the showers.” The lieutenant of his Rescue Squad slapped Julio on the back shoulder and turned down a different hall.

Julio nodded and continued toward his office.

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