The Hammer of Eden Read Online Free PDF

pretty young Mexican woman in a yellow dress, with a child in her arms and another by her side, and for a split second his resolve wavered as he felt the crushing weight of the grief he would bring into their lives.
    Then he saw a worse vision: a pool of black water slowly rising to engulf a vineyard and drown the men, women, and children who were tending the vines.
    He ran at Mario, raising the wrench high over his head.
    Mario was opening the car door. He must have seen something out of the corner of his eye, for when Priest was almost on him he suddenly let out a roar of fear and flung the door wide, partly shielding himself.
    Priest crashed into the door, which flew back at Mario. It was a wide, heavy door, and it knocked Mario sideways. Both men stumbled. Mario lost his footing and went down on his knees, facing the side of the pickup. His Houston Astros baseball cap landed on the ground. Priest fell backward and sat heavily on the stony earth, dropping the wrench. It landed on a plastic half-gallon Coke bottle and bounced a yard away.
    Mario gasped: “You crazy—” He got to one knee and reached for a handhold to pull his heavy body upright. His left hand closed aroundthe door frame. As he heaved, Priest—still on his butt—drew back his leg and kicked the door as hard as he could with his heel. It slammed on Mario’s fingers and bounced open. Mario cried out with pain and fell to one knee, slumping against the side of the pickup.
    Priest leaped to his feet.
    The wrench gleamed silvery in the morning sun. He snatched it up. He looked at Mario, and his heart filled with rage and hate toward the man who had wrecked his careful plan and put his way of life in jeopardy. He stepped close to Mario and raised the tool.
    Mario half turned toward him. The expression on his young face showed infinite puzzlement, as if he had no understanding of what was happening. He opened his mouth and, as Priest brought the wrench down, he said in a questioning voice: “Ricky …?”
    The heavy end of the wrench made a sickening thud as it smashed into Mario’s head. His dark hair was thick and glossy, but it made no perceptible difference. His scalp tore, his skull cracked, and the wrench sank into the soft brain underneath.
    But he did not die.
    Priest began to be afraid.
    Mario’s eyes stayed open and focused on Priest. The mystified, betrayed expression barely altered. He seemed to be trying to finish what he had started to say. He lifted one hand, as if to catch someone’s attention.
    Priest took a frightened step back. “No!” he said.
    Mario said: “Man …”
    Priest felt possessed by panic. He lifted the wrench again. “Die, you motherfucker!” he screamed, and he hit Mario again.
    This time the wrench sank in farther. Withdrawing it was like pulling something out of soft mud. Priest felt a surge of nausea when he saw the living gray matter smeared on the adjustable jaws of the tool. His stomach churned and he swallowed hard, feeling dizzy.
    Mario fell slowly backward and lay slumped against the rear tire, motionless. His arms became limp and his jaw slack, but he stayed alive. His eyes locked with Priest’s. Blood gushed from his head and ran down his face and into the open neck of his checked shirt. Hisstare terrified Priest. “Die,” Priest pleaded. “For the love of God, Mario, please die.”
    Nothing happened.
    Priest backed off. Mario’s eyes seemed to be begging him to finish the job, but he could not hit him again. There was no logic to it; he just could not lift the wrench.
    Then Mario moved. His mouth opened, his body became rigid, and a strangled scream of agony burst from his throat.
    It pushed Priest over the edge. He, too, screamed; then he ran at Mario and hit him again and again, in the same place, hardly seeing his victim through the haze of terror that blurred his eyesight.
    The screaming stopped and the fit passed.
    Priest stepped back, dropping the wrench on the ground.
    The corpse of Mario fell