Free Judgment Day by James F. David

with a single place setting and a menu. Josephine leaned down while she filled Christy's coffee cup and whispered.
    "Don't pay any attention to those prices, they're for the news nerds. Just between you and me there won't be any charge for your meal. Don't even bother to leave a tip. These poor dopes have been tipping fifteen percent on the prices we're charging. You just know they're on expense accounts."
    Josephine left her to study the menu. The prices were quadruple normal. The meal came quickly and Christy knew her order was given the fast track. She was finishing the last of her toast when Mark Shepherd slid in across from her.
    He looked to be in his early forties with brown hair and eyes. The creases around his eyes and mouth told her he was a man who frowned deeply and laughed heartily. Most distinctive of all was his Roman nose, which blended nicely with his features, especially when he smiled—he was smiling now.
    "Good morning, Reverend Maitland. How is the food?" he asked.
    "Overpriced."
    "It's a matter of supply and demand. It's a long way to another restaurant."
    "They could buy flour and cook their own pancakes."
    "You haven't seen the price of flour."
    "I see you've got it covered. I guess the idea is to fleece the media while you can. In a few days they'll move on to the next story."
    "This story will last more than a few days," Shepherd said.
    "A few weeks then," she countered.
    He smiled, turning to watch a minivan pull into the parking lot. When he was facing her, his nose was barely distinguishable, but in profile his nose stood out. Then his face went from deep smile creases to his serious wrinkles.
    "It might last a millennium," he said, then his smile creases returned. "Would you like to see the Rising Savior2."
    "Of course, it's the talk of the world. But why me? I'm not a reporter."
    "I don't want you to report, I want you to understand. You know what they will do to us."
    She knew "they" referred to the news media.
    "They're treating this like a freak show."
    "The media isn't out to get you."
    "Aren't they? They've never been a friend of religious people."
    "Reverend Shepherd . . ."
    "Mark."
    "Mark . . . " she began, then stopped. If she tried to convince him there was no media conspiracy, he would believe she was a part of it. It was best to go slow. Christy fixed her neutral expression on her face.
    "What about the tour you offered?"
    "That van is waiting to take us to the compound."
    She felt funny about not paying but he assured her they would never bring her a check, so she let him take her by the arm and direct her toward a back exit. As they passed a table she heard someone say, "Isn't that the guy from the launch." Quickly Mark hurried her out the door and into the back of the van. Reporters and cameramen were pouring out of the back of the Pig and Pancake as they drove away, the tires spraying the reporters with gravel.
    "Hoodwinked them again, didn't we, Mark?" the driver said.
    Christy recognized him—it was Floyd from the motel. Daniel was on the seat next to him and he turned and waved.
    "Hello, Floyd," Christy said. "Hello, Daniel. Where's Evelyn?"
    "She's minding the store. She told me to tell you that we're not spying on you but that when we told Mark that you were staying with us he asked to meet you."
    "Tell her I understand." Christy said it sweetly but was suspicious. They drove down the main street past the Sandman Motel and then the Eternal Rest that also displayed a NO VACANCY sign.
    "What's the rate at the Eternal Rest?" she asked.
    "Same as ours. Four hundred dollars a night."
    "With a hundred-dollar surcharge for blasphemy?"
    Floyd chuckled as he drove.
    "Evelyn won't stand for taking the Lord's name in vain. Isn't that right, Daniel?"
    "Mama would wash my mouth out with soap if I talked like some of those reporters."
    Soon they came to the main entrance to the compound. Floyd drove past.
    "The media is waiting for us down there," Shepherd explained.
    "Aren't you going to