Heaven Hell and Fresh Meat

By Edward Thames

An Anthology

Heaven
A desperate young man hitches a ride with a cantankerous old man and soon realizes there is more to the old man than meets the eye. A series of simple, yet profound events change him forever as he discovers the miraculous secret of echoes from Heaven and his own surprising destiny.

Hell
While making a beer-run in a jacked-up GTO, four teenage party animals find themselves propelled into a post-apocalyptic nightmare when they accidentally hit a dimensional vortex. The end of the world has already happened. Everyone they knew and loved is gone. They find themselves alone in a cold dead world or so they believe.

Fresh Meat
The ritualistic murder of a priest leads a homicide detective into the mysterious world of cannibalism. Forced to team up with a by the book FBI Agent he suddenly finds himself on the trail of a culinary cannibal whose bloody trail spans over thirty years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edward Thames
• Release date: Mar 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311892829

Edward Thames

Edward was born in Plaquemine Parish, Louisiana. He grew up moving from place to place never living in the same location more than two years. He attended various Universities majoring in Pre-Med, creative writing, film making and foreign languages. After winning several writing awards he discovered Information Technology and achieved thirty-four separate technical certifications. He has worked as a contract technical trainer for the last ten years. He has written seven screenplays and five novels. He presently lives in Spring, Texas.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The evening shadows have grown long as the darkness overwhelms the light of day. There is a large white tent glowing brightly in the middle of an overgrown field; a makeshift house of God. Strings of cheap Christmas lights adorn the support ropes and outline the entry way. There are a dozen cars and trucks parked around the entrance. Organ music is playing. The harmony of singing drifts from the tent.

Above the entrance is a large white banner that reads, Reverend Abraham Hooker in bright red letters. Underneath are the words Healer, Prophet, and Blessing Man. An old fashioned tent revival is beginning. The tent is filled with common folk. Most are sick or crippled. This is hope's last stop. Those that aren't suffering are there to support their loved ones.

Standing in the front of the congregation on a makeshift stage is Reverend Abraham Hooker, a slick-looking fifty-year old man. Dressed in an expensive white suit he holds a well-worn bible against his chest. His head is bowed. Behind him is a small choir consisting of several women.

To the left is an organist playing a portable organ.

The music stops. There is silence. Reverend Hooker raises his head and looks at the small congregation. He looks deeply into each one’s eyes. They connect or so it would seem to the novice.

Only the few who had experience with one such as Reverend Hooker would realize his deep and penetrating look was simply a methodical scan for the weakness and susceptibility of his audience. As he scans the crowd he skillfully makes mental notes and evaluations about each one.

If Reverend Hooker had any talent it was reading people. He could almost look through a person and instinctively know if they had anything of value that could be put to use in God’s work. The old man in the front row was a perfect candidate. His skin was drawn tightly across the bones of his skull. The skin was pasty and has a yellow hue as did the whites of his eyes. His liver was dying and killing him in the process. He noticed the man was wearing a Brighton watch, and the woman sitting beside him had a very nice diamond wedding set. Reverend Hooker always preferred cash but would never pass on any gift no matter what as long as it was easily exchanged for hard currency. There was no offering too small for the simple blessings of God.

Reverend Hooker methodically dissected the entire room in a brief few minutes. These common folks desperately needed to be freed. The burdens of this life would soon be lifted as they freely gave from what little they had.

Reverend Hooker often used the parable from Luke 21:1-21-4, regarding a poor widow who put two very small copper coins into the offering plate. The moral of which was she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on and therefore had in fact given more than all those who had given from the abundance. She therefore found favor in God’s eyes. Sick people were always trying to curry the favor of God. And that is where Reverend Hooker found his niche; he was the doorway to the God's favor.

Abraham Hooker’s real name was Sterling Parker. He advertised himself as a redeemed sinner who by the grace of a forgiving God was blessed with special gifts, the most important of which was the calling to spread the word of God; to bring miracles and healing to those whose hearts were open to the his word of God and were willing to sacrifice to receive his blessings.

The truth of the matter was he was indeed a sinner and that was the extent of the truth. In fact, Reverend Hooker was neither a reverend nor in fact a man of God in even the remotest since of the word.

Hooker was a simple man when it came to what he believed in; money and the pleasures of life that money could buy. How he acquired money was inconsequential as long as he didn’t have to work for it. There were far too many people in this world who would just give it to you, if you knew how to ask. Hooker knew how to ask but more importantly he understood the key was in knowing who to ask.

Hooker has learned long ago that when death and suffering was near most men would gladly give you all they had for relief of any kind. Even if that relief was based only on hope and a prayer; both of which Hooker was eager to supply for a price. It always struck Reverend Hooker as odd how people fell into the trap of believing that God somehow retailed out blessings to those who would and could pay.

The choir has stopped singing but they continue to hum the melody of Amazing Grace. After several minutes Reverend Hooker completes his scan. He speaks softly, As I gaze around this humble house of God I understand why the Lord has sent me to you.

A chorus of amen erupts from the congregation. Reverend Hooker continues. His voice rising. "The Lord has sent me to YOU! HE CHOSE YOU! I HAVE COME TO SHOWER GOD'S BLESSINGS UPON YOU! I BRING HEALING AND HOPE DIRECTLY FROM GOD! HE HAS BLESSED ME WITH GIFTS THAT I MIGHT IN TURN BLESS THE FAITHFUL! YOU ARE TRULY GOD’S FAITHFUL!

A strong wind whips through the tent. Dust and papers fly about. A tall man in a beat-up, black cowboy hat steps into the tent and stands in the doorway. The brim of his hat hides his eyes. The wind stops. Time slows to a crawl.

A crippled old man turns. He looks at the man standing in the entrance. Elijah Peddie slowly raises his head. Their eyes meet. Relief and peace flow into the old man's eyes.

The old man stands up and walks out of the tent. He leaves his cane behind. He touches the tall man's sleeve as he passes.

Others turn. One at a time they each meet the tall man's gaze. Each one leaves with the same expression as the old man. Each one touches Elijah as they leave.

Reverend Hooker stands with his mouth open unable to speak. The choir is silent as they watch in stunned amazement. The tent empties. The empty metal folding chairs are littered with crutches, walking canes, and metal walkers. Two empty wheelchairs sit off to the side. Empty collection buckets litter the floor.

Elijah looks at Reverend Hooker who is shaking in his nine hundred dollar boots. Their eyes meet for a log moment. Elijah does an about face and stands in the doorway with his back to Reverend Hooker. He stomps his foot three times then disappears into the night.

A cold wind fills the tent. Reverend Hooker stands wide-eyed and shivering, staring at an empty tent.

The remaining cars and trucks are leaving as old pickup pulls up. Inside are Clyde Dinkel, his wife Rachel, and their seven year old son Joel. Rachel has her head propped on Clyde’s shoulder. It is obvious she is very ill.

The pickup stops. Rachel rouses, opens her eyes. They fill with tears as she surveys the empty parking lot. Rachel's voice cracks as she utters, He’s gone!

* * * * *

CHAPTER 2

It’s early Monday morning. John Roberts, a handsome, dark-haired, late twenty something young man, is sitting on the couch in his apartment. He is a mess. His hair is longish and uncombed. He is wearing blue jeans and a wrinkled sweatshirt with the Microsoft Blue Screen of Death imprinted across the front. He has his bare feet crossed on the coffee table and his hands folded across his stomach. He has his eyes closed as he lies back on the couch. He's listening but not listening as Kathy, his girlfriend talks loudly from the bedroom. He's heard it all before; a hundred times.

Kathy, a quasi-successful interior designer, is a fiery Irish redhead. She is talking very loudly as she is dressing in the next room. IT'S BEEN TWO YEARS! TWO LONG MISERABLE YEARS! DO YOU REALIZE THAT? Kathy hears the sound of a vacuum cleaner. JOHNNY, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME! Kathy adds a final touch to her makeup and walks into the living room. John is vacuuming the apartment.

John mumbles, I hate Mondays. He hated Mondays for good reason. Mondays were when everybody but him went to work. They went someplace and had contact with people. They had a point, a reason for being. Most importantly they got paid.

John looked forward to Friday because everybody was off and he could actually believe for forty eight hours he was just like everybody else. He could make believe he had a life and a future. Then Monday would come rolling around. Kathy would go off to work and he would spend his day sending out resumes and worrying while his phone rang incessantly as bill collectors called all hours of the day and night.

Kathy walked into the living room and asked, ARE YOU HEARING ME? John ignored her and continued to vacuum. Kathy walked over and unplugged the vacuum. John stops and stares at the wall for a moment then answers, I said yes.

Kathy stares at John. I can't do this anymore!

John continues to stare at the wall and replies, I know.

Kathy continues her voice growing softer with each word. Look at you. Your fifteen days away from being homeless! What are you going to do?

John turns and looks into Kathy’s eyes and answers with as much confidence as he could muster. Something will break. I know it!

When! Two years I've been waiting, praying that you'd get a job. Any job!

John quietly answers, I know. I'm sorry.

I know how hard you’ve been trying. Whatever possessed you...?

Do we have to go through this again? Things will work out. You'll see.

I can't...I won't stand by and watch you...you need help.

No! What I need is a job! Replied John as they replayed the same conversation over again.

Kathy turned and walked over to the breakfast bar. She picked up her purse and turned toward John. Kathy looked at him for a long moment, You are a very special person. I pray one day you'll find your place and you'll do good things with your life. I just can't live like this anymore. I need more. I need to know we have a future.

Kathy turns away. She walks to the front door pauses for a moment. She looks back at John and says, Goodbye Johnny.

John drops the vacuum and turns toward the door. Kathy, don't...

Kathy opens the door, walks out and closes the door behind her. As John finishes his sentence. go. SHIT!

John stands in the middle of the living room staring at the door. He picks up the vacuum, walks over, plugs the vacuum back in and starts vacuuming with a vengeance.

The phone rings. The phone rings two more times. John cuts off the vacuum cleaner, walks over and jerks up the receiver. Hello! John was just about to explode at whomever when a calm voice asked, Is this John Roberts?

John paused for a moment and asked, Who’s this?

The voice replied, This is Peter Houghton with Cybernet Security.

The name sounded familiar. John’s mind raced as he tried to remember anything about the name. Yes. What can I do for you? Replied John.

Are you still looking for a job?

Stunned John cautiously replied, Yes. As a matter of fact I am.

Excellent. I understand your phone interview went very well.

A stunned look sweeps across John's face. He can’t remember the interview or the company. He glanced impatiently toward the apartment door.

Would you be available to come to Phoenix on Friday for an interview?

John doesn’t want to appear too eager calmly answers, Yes, of course!

Excellent. If you cover your travel expenses we'll reimburse you when you get here. If that's acceptable?

A look of concern crosses John's face as he replies, Not a problem.

Good. I'll have my secretary e-mail you the specifics."

John dances in place like someone who has the urgent need to pee. He manages to regain his composure and calmly replies, Great! I look forward to meeting with you on Friday.

See you Friday.

John drops the phone and runs to the front door. He jerks it open, runs down the stairs and into the parking lot. He slows down and stops as he realizes Kathy's car is gone.

John stood in the parking lot not really knowing what to do. He wanted to call Kathy and tell her the news. After thinking about it for a few minutes he decided tell her what? How many times has he gone on interviews only to never hear from the companies again? No this would have to actually happen before he told anybody, especially Kathy. John headed back to his apartment. First things first, he had to get to Phoenix then worry about the interview.

John enters his apartment and walks over to the bar. He picked up his wallet and pulled out three twenty dollar bills. He walks over to his computer. He sits down and pulls up his bank account. The computer shows a balance of $24.29. He pulls up Map Quest and enters the start and destination information. He hits enter. Map Quest pops up with a map. The screen shows 1178.35 miles and a trip time of 19 hours and 44 minutes.

John pulls up a mileage calculator and enters the information. The screen shows fuel cost of $129.87. John leans back and puts his hands behind his head as he stares dejectedly at the screen. He closes his eyes as he mentally does the math. I'm screwed! Where am I going to get forty-five dollars?

John opens his eyes. He stands up and walks into his bedroom and over to his closet. He gets down on his knees and disappears into the closet. He re-emerges holding a large ceramic Tweety Bird and a hammer.

John takes the Tweety over to his bed and lays it down. John pauses for a moment then says, Sorry about his old friend.

John hits Tweety with the hammer. The ceramic Tweety is shattered. Loose change spills out all over the bed. John walks over to his dresser and grabs several pair of white socks. He walks back to the bed and sits down. He starts counting the coins and putting them into a sock.

*****

John enters the supermarket struggling with a half a dozen fat white socks full of change. He walks over to the Cash for Coins machine and dumps the socks one at a time into the bin. The machine clatters and clanks as John empties the socks. He glances toward the checkout lanes and sees various people staring. John empties the last sock into the machine. A moment later the machine shows a total of $84.43.

John smiles as he utters to himself, Yes! The machine kicks out the $84.43. John stuffs the cash and change in his pocket.

*****

John walks down the steps leading from his apartment carrying a box. He walks over to a 1984 blue Volvo Sedan and opens the door. The back seat is stuffed with majority of his worldly possessions. John is trying to force the box into the back seat.

Billy, a neighbor, walks out onto his balcony. Billy is an old head who is living off an inheritance and a regular supply of pot. Billy watches John loading his car.

Billy asks, You moving?

John looks up. No. Well maybe. Got an interview.

Billy tiredly shakes his head and says, Jesus Johnny! How many does this one make?

John continues to force the box into the Volvo. I lost count a long time ago. Billy pulls out a roach and lights it. He inhales deeply and in a hoarse voice comments, That's a lot of shit to carry to an interview.

Without looking up John replies, It's in Phoenix.

Ahhh. You're not coming back are you?

Sure I am. If I get the job.

Billy takes another hit and asks, What if you don't?

John closes the Volvo door. He looks up at Billy. Don't know.

How does Kathy feel about you moving to Phoenix?

We broke up this morning.

Billy does an exaggerated swoon. Damn! I knew there was trouble when I heard the vacuum start so early this morning. You know John I've lived beside you for nearly three years.

Three months. Corrected John

What?

I've lived beside you for three months. Billy looked stunned. No shit! Seems like a lot longer.

Does, doesn't it.

"Yeah, anyway I just wanted to say it's been a pleasure knowing you. You're a good guy. You got shitty luck but you're a good guy.

Thanks. Replied John.

Did you pack your vacuum cleaner?

Yes.

`Thank God! So, what you going to do with the rest of your stuff?

Depends on what happens in Phoenix. If you don't get the job can I have it? I mean what’s left.

I don’t understand? Why?

Why what? Asked Billy genuinely perplexed.

I mean why would you even want my stuff. You have plenty of money to buy even better stuff.

It’s not the same. I like other peoples’ stuff. Besides I don’t shop.

John looked hard at Billy and said, Tell you what. If I'm not back by next Tuesday it's yours.

Billy smiled and said, Cool! Good luck in the interview. Billy takes another hit, turns and goes back into his apartment. John walks back up the stairs.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 3

The I10 freeway is snarled in a monstrous traffic jam. John’s Volvo is one of those cars idling in the Arizona heat. John stares into space. A drop of sweat drips off his eyebrow and into the corner of his eye. The sudden sting of the sweat in his eye snaps him back into reality. He wipes his face on his sleeve. The radio is on as a traffic reporter offers his update on the situation. The I10 corridor is completely shut down in both directions. A jackknifed eighteen-wheeler spilled its load across all lanes of traffic. Both eastbound and westbound traffic is completely stopped. From the looks of things this cleanup is going to take several hours. Those of you trapped in this mess pay special attention to your engine temperatures. It's a toasty 107 right now and the high today is expected to reach 112.

John turns the radio off and puts his hand in front of the air conditioning vent. The air is warm and getting warmer. He looks at the temperature gauge. It shows 270 degrees and the needle is rising. John flips the AC off and cracks a window. A blast of outside heat flows in. He rolls the window back up.

John leans over and pops the glove compartment open. He pulls out a map and with some difficulty manages to spread it out over the steering wheel. He locates his position and looks for any alternative route. He notices a small side road leading off the freeway. He follows it along the map with his finger all the way to Phoenix. John looks up at the nearest road sign.

He wads the road map up, stuffs it into the glove compartment and slams the door. The glove compartment door pops back open. John, irritated, stuffs the map in even harder. He slams the glove compartment door closed again. It pops open. With a great deal of control John takes the map out and folds it back into its original folds and places it back into the glove compartment. He gently pushes the door closed. It stays shut this time.

John maneuvers the Volvo onto the shoulder of the freeway. He drives along the shoulder until he reaches a two-lane dirt road. He stops for a moment, then turns on to the dirt road.

John looks down at the temperature gauge. The engine temperature has stopped rising. He flips the AC on. John holds his hand in front of the vent and smiles. He glances in the rear view mirror at the traffic jam disappearing in a cloud of dust.

*****

John is cruising along when the Volvo engine makes a strange noise. John looks at the temp gauge. The needle is in the red. He takes his foot off the accelerator as he flipsoff the AC. There is a clattering noise. The Volvo jerks. John grabs the steering wheel with