Free Crossroads Shadowland by Keta Diablo Page A

tombstone.
    Out of the corner of his
eye, Frank saw Sister Francoise unclasp the cross about her neck. With outstretched arms, she held it
before her . "Now
hang on a minute Sister. I never agreed to
send you into that black portal."
    "Frank―"
    "I can't hear you Sister, wind is too loud.
But you can hear me, right? I took on this job. I get paid to do
this. It would be unethical to say nothing of immoral to send you
in."
    "He'll listen to me. And God will be
traveling with me."
    Frank shook his head. "I'm
going in and you'll wait here until I return with Brent and Charlie."
    She closed her eyes and
shook her head. "You said yourself we have only one chance."
    "Yes, and I'm taking that chance, not
you."
    Behind the grave the portal
widened and groaned. A wild swirl of matter and debris Frank assumed came from the gates of purgatory
blew forth. Above them, the clouds moved
on and illuminated the cross in the Sister's hand in brilliant hues
of metallic gold.
    Her voice stern, her stance
confident, she turned her head briefly and looked at him. "Stand aside, Frank, you don't want to piss
off a Sister of the Order."
    He would have laughed had the situation been
any less dire.
    Forward she marched, the
cross shining like a beacon, her face lit by the grace of God. "Damn," Frank said under his
breath. "Maybe my sorry ass is redeemable."
    Minutes ticked by while
Frank wore out a path in the overgrown weeds and grass at his feet. How long did it take to commend one's
soul he wondered? What if he never saw
Sister Francoise again? The thought made his stomach roil, his heart wrench.
    He hadn't spoken directly
to the boys' parents today, but left a vague message he'd be tied up with a hot lead and would contact
them this evening, no matter the time. He
pivoted at the end of his path, checked his watch with the flashlight and patted his chest when his
heart flopped like a catfish tossed on
shore. Shit, the Sister had gone through the portal twenty minutes
ago. What if he had to phone the parents
with the horrific news that the hot lead turned out to be the worst
lead of his life?
    If roles were reversed and
he'd gone through the gateway, the Sister wouldn't be pacing. She'd be on her knees praying to the
Almighty. He couldn't bring himself to
drop to the ground.
    Rand's face floated before
him in a rush of angry words. What the hell had he said to him?
Something like if you can't live with it, don't let the door hit you in the ass. . . or similar off-the-cuff
words spoken in anger. Had he lost his
fucking mind? He couldn't live without Rand, not in New Orleans,
not in Baltimore, not anywhere on
earth.
    Another ten minutes passed
and Frank rethought his decision to kneel. Maybe he could ask for help for the boys' sake, for the
Sister's sake. The portico had closed the
moment she stepped through it. If it hadn't, he would have taken things into his own hands and plowed
through, mule-headed sister or not. Rand's words tripped through
his mind. ' You know
what your fucking problem is? You think you're an
island.'
    "No, I don't, Rand. I'm not
an island. I'm not even a mud pool without you."
    Overhead, the trees
whistled and groaned. Frank spun around and squinted through the darkness. The vague outline of an inky
hole appeared and then expanded as Frank
stumbled toward it. Three forms the same height appeared, but Frank couldn't make out their faces. Golden
light burned his eyes.
    He wasn't aware he'd been
holding his breath until he saw the cross, heard her voice. "Please phone Brent and Charlie's parents
and tell them their boys are safe and sound."
    "You did it, Sister!" He
rushed forward and lifted her off her feet with a bear hug. "You did it!"
    Beside her, the boys rubbed
their eyes, fell to the ground and clawed at the grass as if they couldn't believe they'd returned. "Of
course, Frank. Did you doubt
it?"
    He set her on her feet and
cupped her face in his hands. "Nah, a little bird once told me with God all things