Unworthy

By Michael LaPointe

"Ask of me terrible questions, and I will tell you of terrible things."

At the crossroads of faith and madness stands an evil too terrifying to imagine.

Unworthy is the story of Ezra Kale, the twisted offspring of thrill killers, born into a world of depravity, bloodshed, and cannibalism. From the Dustbowl of the Great Depression to a notorious lunatic asylum, Ezra reinvents himself as a revival preacher, traveling the American South and using his calling to conceal his true nature, leaving a trail of ruination and death in his wake. At Ezra’s side is Sister Randa, a deeply damaged woman with an unthinkable past, who finds in Ezra the only person she has ever trusted, and for whom she would gladly kill.

Only Danny Bloom, a retired carnival performer with a yearning for a more fulfilling life, realizes there may be more to the self-proclaimed Savior than anyone would dare imagine and, in uncovering an unspeakable horror, finds his destiny. Unworthy is a thriller both timely and timeless, a savage journey into the darkest heart of evil perpetrated in the name of faith.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483530499

Book preview

black.

One

The old truck rattled noisily along the grey ribbon of highway, although it was only a truck in the meanest sense of the word. Once upon a time, it had been a sedan that had whisked its owners along in comfort, but the hard times that had fallen upon the people had also fallen upon the car. It had changed hands a half-dozen times, and with each successive owner, it had fallen further into disrepair. Its current owner, Dale Jessup, had bought it for twenty-seven dollars from a dealer who was known more for his willingness to trade rather than his ethics, and the current exodus of sharecroppers headed West had made him a wealthy man, at least by local standards.

The Jessups had sold everything they owned that couldn't be brought along, and after the purchase of the vehicle, had undertaken their journey with just over one hundred dollars, which had to last across three states. Dale's brother Johnny had taken a hacksaw to the back half of the car, laying down planks on the frame so that the meager few possessions the family still owned could be stacked up and lashed down. Johnny sat on an old mattress with Dale's three children, while Dale drove, with his wife Becca sitting alongside him.

They had covered several hundred miles, and the money was fast running out. A new fan belt and a busted radiator, along with a bottomless thirst for oil and fuel, had nearly drained what little money remained. The cobbled-together truck shimmied with each bump in the road, its overburdened frame groaning with the stress of a weight it was never meant to carry. With over a thousand miles yet to travel, the Jessups were in dire need of a miracle.

Heavenly Father, said Becca Jessup, quietly to herself, Please help us in this hour of need, and send us some angels to guide and protect us, your humble servants. Amen.

Damn, woman, Dale said with a sad chuckle, The Lord ain’t given us nothin’ but bad luck and hard livin’, and you think he’s a-gonna help us now? Why’re we so damn special, when there’s so many hurtin’? I’m a mind to think that He left us all to hang, a long time ago.

Becca sat in silence, staring out the windshield at the barren road ahead. She knew Dale didn’t mean to blaspheme, that for as little as he showed on the outside, he was tearing himself up on the inside. He’d tried so hard to coax something, anything, out of the dry dirt, had tried to hire himself out to the neighbors, had tried everything he could think of to put some food on the table for his family.

Becca knew that in times like this, it was best to let Dale get it out of his system; he’d never raise a hand against her, but his words could get mean when he was mad. He’d been mad a lot lately, and it made Becca’s heart ache with sadness.

Like many men, Dale was proud, which often meant he was stubborn. He’d rather starve than take charity, and had done so on numerous occasions. He’d taken the lack of rain as a personal slight, a judgment against himself as a man. To her face, Dale was always strong for Becca; however, she remembered a night not long ago when she had seen another side of her husband, and it had shaken her to her core.

Two

It was late, that much she knew. In their hardscrabble life, there was only day and night: when the sun was out, you worked the land. When the sun went down, you slept. To Becca, there was never enough of either. They needed to feed their growing family and there was never enough food, never enough time, never enough energy, to make ends meet.

The children, Abigail, age nine, Henry, seven, and Peter, six, were small, too small, for their ages. Rail-thin with legs starting to bow from rickets, the children were suffering the most. Many a night, Dale and Becca refused dinner for themselves, so that the children could have a little more to eat, but it often seemed that the meager extra portions just made them all the more hungry. The truth was, they were starving to death. This knowledge was an unbearable burden, under which Becca was terrified of collapsing.

A few weeks before, Becca had realized that she was late for her monthly. Jenny Davis, her neighbor, told her that this sometimes happens to women who don’t get enough to eat, both of them silently hoping that this was the reason, that the alternative was too devastating to consider. But as sure as the sun rises, Becca soon understood the heartbreaking truth: she was with child.

She hadn’t yet told Dale, because she didn’t want to add to his burden. He hadn’t broken yet, and she did not want to be the one who finally took him one step too far, to the place that she feared the most. Becca needed Dale’s strength, because without it, she would surely go to pieces.

The knowledge of her pregnancy and the weight it carried burned like a white-hot coal within Becca’s heart. She felt guilty and stupid and childish for letting it happen; she felt ashamed for wishing and hoping (but not praying, not yet) that the child would be stillborn, that she would rather have the baby die inside her than have it live in such a hard and unforgiving world.

Since discovering her pregnancy, Becca had been plagued by nightmares, and it was a nightmare that had awakened her on that awful night. She’d dreamt that she was being chased, by something so evil she couldn’t even give it a name, a horrifying entity that single-mindedly sought to run her down, the way that a pack of wild dogs would overtake a smaller animal and tear it to shreds, and she knew, just knew, that if this...thing caught her, there would be no mercy shown. She, and the unborn child inside her, would be torn asunder by this spawn of the darkness, and it would not be over quickly. She chanced a glance behind her, and what she saw chilled her to the marrow; it was human, but less than human. Beast, but more than beast.

Becca felt her senses shutting down, in a vain effort to spare her the gross insanity of that which pursued her; rather, she was afforded glimpses of it: she saw hooves, she saw horns. She saw a face distorted by rage and lust, a lust for blood and a guarantee of something much worse. Its skin was burnt and torn, its hair blazing white above yellow eyes like those of a snake. More than anything, Becca knew that to pause for even a moment would be the end of her, the end of all she held dear, forever and ever.

As she ran, her heart pounding like a hammer in her emaciated chest, she could her the thing laughing, sounding like it wasn’t even winded by the pursuit, laughing at her terror, laughing at her pain, laughing at her sorrow. The realization that the demon not only understood but took delight in her fear struck Becca so forcefully, it was as if she had run into a wall at full speed; her legs buckled and she fell, and she could hear the thing bearing down on her, its laughter deafening to her ears, its hot breath at the back of her neck, tearing at her dress...

Becca awoke with a start, a scream trapped in her throat, her heart pounding with fear, a slick sheen of sweat blanketing her body. Instinctively, she reached for Dale, but found his side of their bed empty. In the uncertain twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Becca thought that maybe the demon had taken Dale instead which was, in its own way, more terrifying than being taken herself.

Forcing herself to be calm, Becca slid out of bed, her bare feet kicking up small plumes of dust on the wooden floor. The roughness of the wood underfoot made her realize that the dream, the nightmare, was over, and that she was now awake in the world as she knew it. There were no demons here.

Padding softly through the dark, quiet house, Becca’s breathing slowed to normal as she continued her return to reality. Stepping into the kitchen, she realized that the door was open, and she could see a shadowy form sitting, hunched over on the steps that led to the yard. With a silent gasp, Becca stopped in her tracks, her mind telling her that the demon from her dream had followed her into the waking world, and was perched on her stoop, awaiting the moment when it would descend upon her and turn her world to one of terror, pain, and blood.

The thing on the front steps was breathing heavily; she could see its silhouette rising and falling silently in the night. As Becca’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that the thing on the steps was her beloved Dale, and the sounds coming from him were far more terrifying than any of her worst nightmares: Dale was weeping quietly, his head in his hands, a small puddle of tears glimmering like quicksilver in the faint moonlight. Becca knew then that life as she knew it, their life as a family, was over, and that the road ahead would be paved with hardship and pain.

Three

A loud bang startled Becca back to the present, and she held fast to the door handle as the truck swayed from side to side. Dale wrestled with the steering wheel to bring it under control, and eased the vehicle to the side of the road, disturbing a hawk that was tearing at the carcass of some unlucky desert animal. The hawk took wing, and climbed to the safety of a higher elevation.

Shutting off the engine, Dale opened his door and, leaning out, saw that a rear tire had blown. Dale climbed out of the cab, and was joined by Johnny, who had already jumped down from the bed of the truck and was inspecting the tire.

Damn, Dale, Johnny muttered softly, that thing was awready more patch’n rubber. I can’t see how you could’ve driven her any safer and still been a-movin’.

You think there’s enough left to hold another patch? Dale asked, squatting down, though he already knew the answer to the question. Looking at it, he could see that age, heat, and a crushing load had converged on the decrepit tire, which was now little more than shredded garbage. She’s done, Dale thought to himself. We’re all done, there ain’t nothin’ left. I got nothin’ left.

We gots to get us a new tire, Dale. Ain’t no way aroun’ it, Johnny said, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Maybe there’s a town ‘round here somewheres.

Dale crossed his arms and stared at the ground. It don’t matter, Johnny. We ain’t got no money to spend on one, plus gas, and we gotta find us some food soon. We ain’t et since yesterday mornin’.

The men stood on the side of the road, while Becca remained in the cab. She knew that they were in serious trouble, but all she could think to do was to open her heart and pray for God to help them, just a little bit, they were good people who always prayed and went to church and put a little into the collection basket when it came around to them. Her whispered pleadings took on urgency, the words coming fast and breathless, as she laid her soul open to her Creator, and begging Him to take mercy.

In the back of the truck, the children waited silently, feeling rather than hearing the tension and despair of the grownups. When finally the words ran out and the prayers subsided, the small family was left stranded, with no help, no hope, and not another soul for miles.

Four

With the coming of night, the desert’s daytime heat rapidly gave way to chill. The Jessups huddled together in the back of the truck for warmth. The day’s clouds had moved on, and they were left utterly alone, under a canopy of stars.

Dale was beyond fear; he’d heard talk about bad things happening to people on the road. Muted whispers spoke of unthinkable acts, the stuff of nightmares, stories he could only hope weren’t true. No matter how hard he tried to force the thoughts from his mind, the hopelessness of their situation kept washing over him in waves, and he had no more energy to resist the darkness that danced on the periphery of his imagination. He didn’t dare voice his fears to Johnny or Becca; as the head of the family, it was down to Dale to be strong, to be resourceful, and to get them out of their desperate situation.

Becca had resumed conferring with the Almighty, Dale noticed bitterly. He’d have told her to give it a rest, but so long as she was talking to God, she wasn’t asking Dale what they would do, what they could do, to get out of this predicament. With Johnny and the children sleeping, and Becca lost in her prayers, Dale was the first to hear the sound of an engine in the distance. He listened carefully, and as the sound grew nearer, he sat up, joined by Becca, who by now had heard it as well.

Off in the distance, they saw headlights approaching, a beacon of light shining through the darkness. Dale stood, shook Johnny awake, and jumped down to the ground. The men crossed their arms, knowing that the driver would pretend not to see them and hurry on their way. Samaritans were few and far between on this stretch of road, and no one seemed to care a lick for the migrants.

Growing closer, they could now see that the approaching vehicle was a truck, a proper truck, dark green with solid staked sides, as it slowed and pulled in behind them, the headlights bathing Dale and Johnny in light. Becca was now awake and sitting up, looking at the truck with her hands clasped together at her chest, hoping for salvation.

The truck rolled to a stop, and from the driver’s side emerged a giant of a man, easily six and a half feet tall. The man walked to the Jessups with an easy gait, and Dale breathed a sigh of relief. Although physically huge, the man approaching them exuded peacefulness; his overalls were clean, his shoes well tended, and he smiled the smile of a man for whom happiness came easily.

Evening, folks, the big man said, raising his hand in a friendly wave. From the looks of that tire, I’d say you’re having some bad luck.

You done said a mouthful there, mister, Dale replied. We’re tryin’ to get to California, but this here truck seems to have other plans. You happen to know if there’s anyplace nearby where we can get ‘er fixed?

Well yes, the man said, There’s a station up the road a ways, but they’re closed up tight by now. My name’s Kale. Abner Kale. My wife and son are back there in my truck.

I’m Dale Jessup, this here’s my brother Johnny, Dale said, shaking Abner’s extended hand, which all but enveloped his own. We’re travelin’ with my wife and kids.

Good to meet you Dale, Johnny, Abner said with a smile. You folks aren’t hungry, are you? We’ve got some sandwiches here, and I’d be proud to share them with you all.

Dale shifted his feet uneasily, dropping his eyes to the ground. Thank you just the same, but we ain’t got money for food just now. I gotta see how much a new tire’s gonna cost first. We got to get to California, find us some work there.

I think you misunderstand me, friend, Abner said, with a kind smile. If you all are hungry, then the food is yours. It is a gift, from one weary traveler to another. Abner turned and called out, Sarah, can you please bring us the food? We need to share it with these good people.

At the mention of food, the children had climbed down from the bed of the truck, and were standing with Becca, shyly behind Dale and Johnny. As Dale introduced his wife and the children to Abner, a woman walked up, carrying a large wicker basket. Becca noticed right away that this woman, Sarah, was beautiful, well fed, and content with her life. She wore a smile that radiated peaceful happiness, and Becca shrunk back, ashamed of her dirty, threadbare clothes, and her hunger-wracked body.

Hello, Sarah said, smiling at the Jessups. Are you having troubles on the road? she asked, exchanging a knowing glance with Abner, who smiled and nodded.

Ma’am, Dale said, We ain’t had nothin’ but trouble since we lit out. I sure do appreciate your gift, we’re obliged to you.

We’re happy to help folks in trouble, Sarah said. These are hard times, and we have to look out for each other. After all, as the Good Book says, ‘By this all people will know you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’

Becca could hardly contain her joy. Oh, Missus Sarah, you don’t know how I’ve hoped to hear a Christian voice. We met so many folks who didn’t want nothin’ to do with us once they seen our car and told ‘em we got no money to spend.

Which brings me to a question, Abner said. You’re looking for work, is that right? When the Jessups nodded in unison, Abner clapped his hands excitedly. Then I have wonderful news. Sarah and I have a small farm just up the road a spell, and each season we hire a family to work the farm with us. Would you be interested?

Dale looked up at Abner, eyes wide, amazed at what had just been presented to him. Really, Mister? We’d give you an honest day’s work, but we can’t take no charity.

Dale, Abner said, There is no charity in my offer. We need workers, and you need work. I would pay a fair wage to however many of you can work, there is a small house where you all can live, and we provide all meals. If we are both happy at season’s end, we can talk about making a more permanent arrangement, if that suits you.

Dale turned and looked at Becca, whose eyes were brimming with tears of happiness. She nodded enthusiastically to her husband, silently pleading him to take the incredible offer being put in front of him.

With a wide grin, Dale turned back to Abner, and stuck out his hand. Again they shook, and Dale said, Mister, thank you kindly; you got no idea how much we needed some good luck.

Here’s what I propose, and please call me Abner. The hour is late and it is cold out here. Why don’t you follow us to the farm, and we can get you settled in? It’s not far from here and...oh, I forgot about your tire. Abner said, scratching his head.

Mr. Abner, I got an idea, Johnny said, speaking at last. If you got room in your truck there for everyone else, I can stay with ours till morning and meet up with y’all after I get a tire.

A concerned look crossed Abner’s face. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I’ve heard talk of things happening out here, of stranded travelers falling into trouble. I’d hate to think of Johnny in trouble and none of us around to help him.

Becca tugged gently on Dale’s arm, and whispered hurriedly in his ear, Honey, we got nothin’ to worry about from these here people. They’re good Christian folk, let me and the young’uns go on ahead with them and you two catch up with us come morning.

Dale turned from his wife and addressed Abner. Mister Abner, how’s about I stay here with Johnny, and Becca and the kids go on along with you?

Abner considered this for a moment, then nodded. I think that’s a fine idea, Dale. I have a shotgun in my truck; I’ll give it to you once everyone’s loaded up. That should keep you both safe until morning.

Sarah guided Becca and the children along the side of the truck, who climbed eagerly into the back and, once they were situated, Becca turned to Sarah and, unable to conceal her joy and with tears in her eyes, turned and embraced Sarah, thanking her for saving her family.

Missus Sarah, you’re like an angel straight from heaven, I don’t know how we can ever repay your kindness. I just thank the Lord my prayers have been answered.

With a kind smile, Sarah replied, By God’s own hand may all be fed, Becca. We’re proud to have you. Now get on up in the truck so we can get you home.

After Becca had climbed the bed of the truck, Sarah nodded to Abner, then