The Faithful Son

By David Schibi

Faith can move mountains and, when betrayed, destroy lives. Zack and little brother Peter are taught their father was sent from God to bring the Word to a chosen few. When Zack sees Dad abusing his position all his beliefs falter. Everything else happens so fast: the yelling, the fighting, the shootings. Then Zack and Peter are whisked away by Dad. And the gun slides out from under the seat.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gambler Press
• Release date: Jan 11, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458172471

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The Faithful Son

by David Schibi

Copyright 2011 by David Schibi

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The helicopters were cool. Especially in the rain.

And they were everywhere! Two or three of them, at least.

The police and the medics -- they all said, Maybe, just sit still for now, son, when Peter asked them about getting to ride in one (his brother taught him that, Zack. He taught him not to be afraid to ask for stuff. Says the worst they can do is tell you no).

Getting a ride in one would be super cool! No one at home would ever believe him.

He pressed his head against the cool glass in the backseat of the police car and stared up, watching them as much as he could. Their lights kept sweeping across everything -- the other cop cars (there were so many), the ambulances, the fire trucks.

Fire trucks were almost as cool as helicopters. But they couldn’t fly.

Ooo, but a flying fire truck, that’d be mega-cool!

Mostly, though, the chopper lights stayed on the car Dad was driving, sitting across the parking lot by the gas pump. It was black and cool looking, almost looked like a race car. ‘Cept it had four doors.

Peter jumped a little when the door on the other side of the backseat opened letting in a gust of the cold, outside air. The rain pounded, wetting the interior door panel even though the door was only open a second.

It’d been raining for days. Dad said he fuckin’ knew it would so Peter didn’t understand why he was so mad, if he knew it was going to rain from the start.

A woman slid into the backseat, slamming the door shut quickly behind her. She made a quick, high-pitched squeaking sound as she lowered the manila folder stuffed full of papers she held over her head. Rain drops dripped from her clear, hooded rain poncho and from the papers as she shook them. A heavy perfume accompanied her in.

Aw damn, she said. Then her head turned quickly in Peter’s direction. Her mouth frozen in a soundless O and her eyes wide as the half dollars Dad used to keep hidden in his sock drawer.

Those were in the top one.

The Playboys were in the bottom. Slide the slacks, without lifting so you could always put them just exactly back. Zack had taught him that, too. But said he better never let Dad catch him or his ass was grass.

I’m sorry, the woman said. "It’s just . .