Free Sacred Flesh by Timothy Cavinder Page A

too,” Joey says.
    “That means he was right. That joker that told me about the Elite he was right! I doubted him at first, said he was sent here from Rome to warn me about these guys, said they’d kill me if they need to, wants me work for the church, said they would save me from the Elite , save me no less!”
    “Maybe you ought to find that guy Jim. Maybe you ought to take him up on that,” Joey says.
    “I’m not sure how to get a hold of him. I threw away the number he gave me.”
    “What are you going to do? Give the Elite the second result?”
    “No, I can’t do that. They don’t need me around after the second result. How do I know they won’t try to keep me quiet-forever? If this really is some kind of bizarre power play between the Elite and The Church then the Elite would have good reason to not want me around after the testing is concluded. I know too much,” Jim says shaking his head.
    “But how do they know what you do or do not know?” Joey asks.
    “I have no idea how much they know about me, but I’m sure it’s a lot. They have their spies. I mean look, they even got to you. I think they’ve got people to keep an eye on me,” Jim says.
    “Maybe you ought to try and find that guy, maybe they can help you,” Joey says.
    “Well, I’m going to have to do something. I can’t stay here forever,” Jim says while standing up and looking out the window.

CHAPTER 35

 
 
    Oh good friend you will be safe with me, he thinks after putting the large text down on the table. Away from those rancid fools. They have destroyed the good name of the order, once so long ago, we were on the verge of respect but no longer, for the wicked course they have taken: bent so very much on power and revenge-why revenge? Does not the Lord tell us to forgive? Who forgives in the Elite ? No one! This sacred text bears the names of our fathers, the sacred bloodline going back centuries: our dear ancestors. Oh yes, I suppose some of them were fools too, is it not human nature-imperfection? But many, such as my father and grandfather, they did not believe in the power tactics. No, why not just accept the differences; accept that Rome will never recognize us as legitimate. So what? Could we not have gone on worshiping and growing as a church unto ourselves? How many religious sects broke with Rome but yet went on to flourish? We do not flourish, never have, for we must remain, they tell us, underground until the time is right to emerge, to rear our heads and strike out secure in the knowledge that revenge will be ours, that Rome will be beaten down so badly that the faithful will turn to us for guidance and we the Elite will lead the new and rightful church. Oh, what contemptible fools, if these things were the will of God would they not have occurred, if it were God’s will that the Elite lead the faithful wouldn’t we have been doing that for the last few centuries instead of roaming about like rats, always hiding? This plan of theirs; it is not God’s will but their own selfish will, for they are bent solely on power and revenge.

CHAPTER 36

 
 
    In the basement of the old warehouse it is dark save for the assorted candlelight flicking, producing shadows amidst the bare cement brick walls adorned fugally with a few oddly frayed tapestries upon the walls. On one, a large triangle with a small circle inside bordered by twenty-seven red squares, the other shows another large triangle within it a single flame next to the letter E.
    In the carven of this makeshift abode the eleven don purple robes. Wearing their vestments they begin to form a large circle. In the middle covered in a red robe is Haggai, his head bowed and his eyes closely tightly. The others begin to chant softly, slowly rising in a crescendo unison: “Nostrum Abbas, Nostrum Abbas.”
    Soon Haggai raises his head and lifting his arms upward begins speaking loudly, “The beginnings of all beginnings, the course of all courses, be your presences with us