She Is Risen (She Is Risen: The Gun Control Case Studies) Read Online Free PDF Page A

an angry sigh, knowing that he is doing the right
thing.  He forces himself to remember the beast and the blind woman.  His
stomach becomes nauseous, wishing he could scrub his eyeballs after witnessing
the devout sickness of Henri and his followers.  As Devlin continues to think
about Henri and his colleagues at the CIA, he considers all the people they
have tracked, monitored, and apprehended over the past few months.
     
                The young man sits up in bed, feeling a sudden
need to take inventory of all his actions.  He thinks back to his check-in at
the hotel, and the stolen driver license that he used to get this room.  His
gut scrutinizes the cash transaction, and he realizes that the CIA could soon
be connecting the dots that he stole the man’s driver license.  He puts his
head down in shame, pressing his thumbs tight between his eyebrows, realizing
his foolish mistake.  After one more night in this room, he would look at
renting duplexes and private residences on a monthly basis to stay off the
grid.  No background checks, credit checks, or anything else the agency could
use to nab him.
     
                He feels panic creeping up in his throat,
realizing it may be good to leave the Escalade as well, deciding that a stolen
vehicle would be viable for less than forty-eight hours, even if it were taken
from the airport’s long-term parking facility.  Devlin decides that public
transportation is best for now, along with payphones, prepaid cell phones, and
anonymous email addresses.  Stealing a car would only be done in the case of an
emergency.  He closes his tired eyes, trying to put these thoughts out of his
mind to get some rest, but they continue to bombard him with anxiety.
     
                After he realizes that any effort to sleep is
futile, he gets up from the bed and moves over to the small pinewood desk near
the television on the opposite side of the room.  He takes a seat and uses a
piece of hotel stationary to write a letter.  Devlin smiles to himself as he
realizes that calling it a letter would be making light of the situation.  The
document before him will more likely become his last will and testament. 
     
               
     
               
     
     

V. Sundown
     
                Beneath the cradle of a godless, bloody red sky
Joshua Warnholt labors more intensively than ever in his life.  Through the
rays of a brilliant sunset, tears of agony stream down his face shamelessly
from the corners of his bright blue eyes, despite his former proud stance of
manliness and independence.  His expression shows defeat below tufts of curly
brown hair and he appears much older than his true age of fifty-two.  Joshua’s
clothing has been stripped from him and his white body is badly sunburned,
covered in canola oil and white sand from the beach he has been detained on
these past few days.  His pelvis is shrouded by a red ceremonial garment tied
loosely around his buttocks.
     
                Joshua winces with the strong alabaster horns of
hell pressing deep into the flesh of his thigh muscles; the burning sting of
two prongs continually stabbing his inner legs.  He staggers slowly, carrying a
heavy stone with both hands, watching the wind blow fine, white dust off the
top of the stone’s surface, whilst drops of sweat from his brow and blood from
his legs saturate the hot, white sands below.
     
                As he carries the stone, a group of Mexican
natives watches from either side of him.  Several of them are solemnly drumming
on small, wooden cylinders covered in leather while he makes his way across the
ten-yard span toward the priestess.  The natives are also wearing red
ceremonial loincloths, glaring up at him with mob justice in their eyes as they
kneel at both sides of his treacherous path. 
                Joshua closes his eyes in an instant of teeth-grinding
pain from the calcite horns