control. Finally he drove out of town and got himself a different car.
A few hours later he was back at Lizzieâs house, in a dark blue,late model sedan almost as unremarkable as the first car had been. Heâd transferred all his supplies into this one. The trunk was filled with various controlled substances, some of them too powerful even to be carried by the average pharmacyâlike the vial of salmonella, a bit of which heâd used on poor Nancy Stillwaterâs picnic lunch. Cruel, but effective. It wouldnât kill her, though she would be terribly sick for a week, maybe longer. That was all he needed.
Mordecai didnât kill unless Spirit dictated it. He wasnât a murderer. He was a tool of God. Besides, Nancy wasnât an evil woman. Sheâd even phoned him to see if he, too, had become sick. When he said he hadnât, she ruled out her picnic lunch as the source of the food poisoning and wondered aloud where she could have picked it up.
He parked the car in a pull-off, where autumn foliage concealed it from view. Then he walked back to Lizzieâs house and took up a position on a tree stump just inside the edge of the woods across the street. This time he had a video camera, a digital camera and a pair of high-powered binoculars.
He never let her out of his sight for the rest of the day.
A woman delivered groceries around eleven. Beth ate an early lunch, alone at a small table in her kitchen. Yogurt and a banana. After lunch, a teenage boy showed up, and Mordecai recognized him even before he raised the binoculars for a closer look. It was young Bryan.
He and Lizzie worked over textbooks in the living room.
I have a private tutor. The boyâs voice repeated the words in Mordecaiâs memory. He closed his eyes, thanked his guides for putting the boy into his path, apologizing again for doubting them earlier. The boy was more than just an honest young man and heir to Mordecaiâs gift. And more than a signpost,pointing the way to Lizzie. He was connected to her in some way. Connected to him, too. He marveled anew at the intricate web of the universe and the complex machinations of almighty God. The brilliance of linking Mordecai to Lizzie through this new child. The son.
âNo wonder I couldnât find her right away,â he whispered. âShe barely goes out. Sheâs entirely self-contained. Except for that run in the morning.â
When Bryan left, Lizzie worked out with a punching bag that hung from the ceiling in a corner of her living room, shocking him with the power and fury of her blows. Then she showered. Later she made herself a solitary dinner and went to bed. Alone.
Always alone, Mordecai. Sheâs changed. Like a lone wolf now, she thinks sheâs independent, thinks sheâs strong.
And you know why, donât you, Mordecai? Sheâs waiting. She knows youâll come for her, and she thinks sheâs preparing. Thinks sheâs going to be ready.
Thinks she can defeat you.
Defeat God.
Mordecai lowered his binoculars and closed his eyes. âOh, Lizzie, Lizzie. Donât you know youâve only made matters worse by adding the sin of pride to the list of things for which you must be punished?â
He drew a breath. He didnât want her proud and independent and strong. Before he revealed himself, Mordecai wanted Lizzie reduced to the needy child she had been once; the lost, confused runaway who saw him as a savior.
She has to die, Mordecai. Itâs her fate. You need to correct a terrible flaw in history. Sheâs supposed to be dead.
He tightened his jaw. âShe has to be taught. She has to bestripped of every ounce of pride and rebelliousness, and returned to a state of purity and humility. Sheâll come to me on her knees then. Sheâll beg me to take her back.â
Are you questioning us yet again? Havenât you learned better? She has to die!
âStop!â Mordecai pressed his hands to his
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes