Chapter 16
Shawn's New God
I don't know why I was smiling or why I was in such a good mood. Hearing Shawn and Arthur screaming down in the cellar while she was drawing their blood. Other than the fact, that it just felt good to hear them suffer. Yet it angered me also knowing Crawford is the one as much as Gloria is responsible for all our pain and suffering, the main reason we are hiding.
It wasn't long before they came up from the basement cellar as Mom was dressing me again in warmer clothes. So, Jared and I could go outside and go down to see the doctor. Hank put us in the car as Mom rode along with Dad and Sara. It bothered me that he was taking the weekend off just for me and Jared. While the other fathers had decided to fly back courtesy of Mr. Vincent and return here on Saturday morning. While the workman went to work on our cabins in the mountains.
As I said, Heber City was no bigger than Provo or Springville Utah, with one main street with small mom-and-pop stores. I couldn't help glancing at the people, thinking that one of these people could betray us to Crawford. Even more so after listening to Shawn.
Mr. Vincent said if anyone asked our names were to tell them our last name was Carrion which refers to the dead and decaying flesh of an animal. In some ways, it fits me and Jared. After all, for as Crawford was concerned, we were dead and dying slowly.
Mom had taken the time to color our hair, or what was known to some taking the color out. Using a bottle of peroxide and several boxes of hair coloring to make it look like we had a nice yellowish tent to it. Dad looked just as bad as we did as Mom looked more like Jamie Summers in The Bionic Woman. A TV show I used to watch way back when. Her hair was more blondish brown versus. ours and Dad's dishwater brown, with a hint of gray on the sides. Today my name was Nathan or Nate Carrion and Jared's was John. Dad chose to go by Bob. It was common that sometimes people went by Bob instead of Robert. Mom had chosen to go by Jamie.
We weren't taking any chances, just in case someone noticed us by a flyer sent across to every police station, hospital, or doctor's office. Yet it really didn't matter because of our wheelchairs. It wouldn't be hard to guess if that was us. Then again, people could be quite stupid, or quite smart, and we were praying that they were stupid. No one gave us a second look and considered us tourists. Which was common around here, and it was normal this time of the year. Dad was told to keep a low profile, that if anyone asks, to say we are renting out one of the cabins for the winter. Give them our fake name and nothing else.
Twice I saw a police car drive by and slow down to take a look at us, then move on, which said Shawn was right, Crawford was indeed behind it. Once inside the Doctor's office, we breathed a sigh of relief. Dad checked us in and immediately his posture changed as if something had spooked him. His voice trembled a little when he said. "Yes, my name is Bob. Bob Carrion and my boys have an appointment." Dad gave them our fake names and quickly returned to his seat with a clipboard.
Dad whispered over to us, telling us they had a picture of our entire family on the wall with a reward of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for information leading to our whereabouts. His hands shook as he filled out the information using a fake address that put us outside of Heber City roughly twenty-five miles away.
The address was real, but the people that lived there didn't exist. Dad listed no phone which was common in these parts. Because some people don't have one, and some homes further away only use an electric generator. Due to the winter season when the snow hits, knocking out power lines. It could be days or weeks before someone comes out to restore them. The tourist season starts around UEA weekend and the deer hunt, and Dad we were using that as an advantage. We were told to buy hunting vests and supplies and a license to blind in here. It was our next stop before seeing the eye doctor.
The only reason I was here was because of my cough and flu symptoms and so we could get medicine for them. It wasn't for that Jared, and I didn't need to be here. Yet again, we couldn't trust anyone, except the people Hank and Mr. Vincent trusted. Then again, they trusted Gloria and looked at what happened.
Our name was called several times until we registered that it was our name. Dad said. "Here we go, boys." Jared and I cringed, knowing most likely a needle was going to be involved, which was the main reason I hated doctors. Once inside and once the nurse took each of my and Jared's stats, gathering the information. Then it was the waiting game, as you go through the scenarios that someone has leaked out our information.
The Doctor came into the room, and the first thing he said as he shook each of our hands was "Speckled Moss," indicating he was a person we could trust. He quickly gave each of Jared and me a quick physical. He told Mom and Dad that we were doing better but were concerned regarding my cough and fever, which still refused to stay down.
He looked over the real charts and our logbook; he said. "Time for a different approach," writing down a new regiment of drugs and most of them were the kind Mom likes, herbal remedies, and teas. He recommended a store nearby and gave her a name to ask for. He then said I will see you boys next Wednesday. Just for a moment, I thought we had escaped the needle. Until he said we could leave after we peed in a cup and drew some blood.
Mom said. "Doctor, I think you would prefer not to do that, considering our situation."
He says. "Mrs. Carrion and Mr. Carrion" using our fake names even though he knew our real ones. "Sara may be able to do more than most doctors, but she is not a doctor." Sara scowled, but she knew he was right.
She reached into her handbag and pulled out two vials of blood marked with Subject A and Subject B's last word, Carrion, with two small sandwich bags of hair clippings again with the name Subject A and Subject B Carrion. She said Mr. Vincent wanted these tested for drugs and a full panel and said you would do so without raising the alarm. He told me to give you this." she pulled out a padded envelope and handed it to him.
He refused the padded envelope and said. "I'll rush the tests and have the results by 7 tonight. I don't like bullies and child molesters like Crawford, and you were never here in my office." He opened the door and told Mom where the bathroom was, allowing Sara to draw the blood instead of one of his nurses. I didn't give much of a fuss, even though I didn't like needles. I did more so for Jared's sake, holding his hand and letting him squeeze it as hard as he could. Then let him cry on my shoulder after it was all done.
When she was done with my arm, which looked like a pincushion from being stabbed so often. I growled angrily when I felt the small poke picturing Crawford and seeing him and his head nailed to my wall. Mom and Dad waited for me to unleash the tiger inside of me, but I sat there smiling as saw Crawford bleeding out as I ripped him apart with my bare hands.
Dad wheeled us out of there quickly as he reset the appointment using Carrion as our last name. I watched him eye the poster and asked the nurse if he could get a copy of it. That he has seen that name before and that man recently during his travels. She smiled and said. "Anything at all, Mr. Carrion to help bring these people in for the crimes they are committing. I do not take kindly to child abuse, or people selling drugs to children, as well parents molesting their own children and using them for prostitution."
Dad said. "My point exactly," she gave him her number, telling him about a meeting if he would like to participate in finding true spiritual awareness and meet a real prophet of God.
Dad smiled and took the copy of the wanted poster and the phone number and address, with the date and time. The nurse asked where we lived and how long we were staying as she eyed him, Dad said. "We are from Saint George, Utah, and here for the deer hunt, and thinking about renting one of the cabins here over the winter. I hear the Skiing is one of the best in the country." She nodded and said, taking his hand and placing a bible into it. It says the "Blood of Christ and his teachings."
She told him to read it, and Dad nodded. "Tuesday, six p.m. at the M Star Hotel. I'll be there."
Once outside, we all breathed a sigh of relief. Dad slipped the bible into his inside coat pocket with the poster. Mom asked. "You're not really going to that meeting, are you?"
Dad said. "Of course, I am. We are all going?" Mom paled, and Sara and Hank agreed that it was the best way to find out what our enemies were up to, too. Dad took her arm and said. "It will be ok, no one will recognize us."
Mom says. "Yeah, Right?" and we made our way down Main Street. By the time we got back. Mr. Stringham was there setting up a small classroom with tables and chairs instead of desks in one of the corners with a large blackboard. He smiled when he saw us dressed in hunting gear. Dad broke the news to Mr. Vincent that contacts were not in my future, not that I was all upset about it as he handed him our wanted poster and the bible we were given; Told him that this could work in our favor. Nodded. He thought so too, but we would need better disguise than just hair treatment.
Shawn growled at us. He and Arthur were on their hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floors. I didn't say anything, because it took everything. I had to remain quiet and calm when all I wanted to do his pound his face in. Remember the promise I had made to Jared?
Yet with everyone here, it would be a bad idea, and I didn't want to add more wood to the fire. So we ignored them, knowing someday soon I was going to have to deal with it. I told Mom I wanted to lie down for a while and wheeled myself down the hall. Then I realized I didn't know which room was mine. I turned around and just in time to see Shawn coming at me with a kitchen knife in his hand.
I didn't scream for help. Instead, I locked my breaks and waited for him to come closer, and smiled, making him even angrier. Once he was close enough, I stood up, and he charged me like a mad rhino. My instincts took over as he tried to stab me, by grabbing him by the arm and pulled him closer spun him around into the wall.
Grabbed his wrist with the knife in it with my right hand and twisted his wrist, taking my left and punching him in the stomach, causing him to drop the knife and double over gasping in pain. Taking my right knee and kneed him in the chest and his chin breaking two of his teeth and causing his nose to bleed.
Then pulled his wrist and arm back swung around behind him and forced him on his knees, gasping not only in pain but for air as well. My body crumpled, falling to my knees. Yet I used it to my advantage as we both fell flat on the floor in the hallway with me on top of him and broke two of his fingers on his right hand that held the knife. Which was his dominant hand. I very much doubt he is using for what we call the five-finger Lucy. In other words, making it nearly impossible to stimulate oneself.
I smiled as he screamed in pain and was about to break another one. Just as my father's Jim's face flashed in my mind, but it wasn't my father, it was me, standing over another scared boy. Dad quickly pulled him off, and I released him. Shawn was about to grab the knife with his left hand, but Dad stopped him by placing his foot on his hand that held the knife.
Dad growled angrily at Shawn, daring him to even think about it; allowing Mr. Vincent and Mr. Stringham to help me up off the floor. Shawn cried in great big sobs. "He was trying to kill me. Can't you see that I was protecting myself?"
Dad said. "Shawn, we saw the whole damn thing. You're the one that was trying to kill him."
Shawn sat up, pushing himself against the wall and held his hand and broken fingers against his chest, and started to laugh hysterically. "You are so going to hell mule boy; I am the one that is going to put you there. As I slit your throat and rip your guts out as I drink your blood."
Dad said. "You are lucky, Shawn, that my son Eric didn't kill you! And the next time you pick a fight with him I will not interfere as he kicks your ass into next week. I only stopped him because I wanted him to have a fair fight; so, you know without a doubt that your prophet will not help you, instead he is right now. He has decided to kill you and Arthur and offer you as sacrificial lambs."
Dad placed the poster in his face, showing him his name listed below, dead or alive. Shawn laughs even more. Holding his broken fingers, Dad picks him up by his shirt collar and presses him against the wall, saying "I am tempted to let him have you, real tempted. Yet I have been given a real opportunity to spread rumors that you are the one that squealed like a little girl who his second in command is and where we can find him."
Shawn's face paled, then smiled. "Crawford would never believe it, not after all I have done for him."
Dad said. "Keep telling yourself that. Now clean up this mess." Dad threw him down to the floor near the blood drops that had fallen on the floor and smeared as we struggled.I broke his finger and nose, but Dad didn't seem to notice; only Mom reacted, bending down with a washcloth to clean him.
Shawn growled. "Don't touch me, you fucking bitch! Touch me again! And I swear I will kill you and bleed your filthy little maggots you have given birth to as I sacrifice them to our God Mormo Queen of hell and chief consort of Hekate, the Greek goddess of the underworld and witchcraft!"