[ CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE ] - { THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA } - ( PT. 5 )

{ PT.  1 } Two gaping holes on fire blazed from the devilish eyes of the beast pinning Christiano to the ground. It flashed its serrated teeth as it inched closer. The smell of rotting flesh repelled his nostrils as a dense, sebaceous liquid dripped from the beast's mouth and slid across Christiano's cheek. He gawped in terror as it sprouted two more heads with extended necks. Each head turned to the other menacingly before it returned its demonic gaze on him and zigzagged its way to his face. A furnace of fire exhaled from each mouth. Chrisriano's eyes shot open. He whipped his head round the dim hotel room, his breathing laboured and his body dripping with sweat. From the sofa where he lay, he could see Angelic sound asleep on the bed, her chest rising and falling in rhythmic beauty. He exhaled with relief and flopped his head back on the pillow. But he was still restless, and his mouth tasted like sawdust.                          ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  { PT.  2 } - He rose and made his way to the fridge, removed a bottle of water and took a big, long gulp as he pushed the curtain aside to take a look outside. The darkness twinkled, and the bright half-moon shone like daylight in the distant mountains. He let the curtain drop and noticed Johan's phone on the dressing table. He picked it up, took his seat on the sofa and turned it on. A short, succinct text message appeared. Type Frya. He narrowed his eyes and swiped the slide-to-unlock feature on the phone. The keyboard flashed up, He typed in Frya, exactly as it was written and found himself with complete access to the phone. The text icon indicated another message. He tapped it and sat up in his chair, his eyes wide. We are on your side. Johan's work for the Cardinal has been a cover to help us find you. We've been waiting for you both. Please come to Rome where we can help you to understand what is happening. We will get you to safety. Trust no one at the Vatican. Return a text or call when you see this message. Frya Attar, a trustworthy friend and ally. He rubbed his perplexed brow as his confused mind attempted to assimilate the information. He opened a nearby drawer in search of writing paper and proceeded to jot down some notes before leaving both the phone and the paper on the table. He then used the hotel phone and dialled a number by memory. A distant ring echoed through the receiver. Pronto, replied a meek, tired voice. Mama, Are you okay? Is Papa okay? Oh Christinao, thank God you're alive. They forced their way into our home. The one with the crazy eyes held a gun to Lissandra's head. I've never been so scared in my life. What have you got yourself mixed up in? By now, tears welled in Christiano's eyes, and he felt as if a lump of coal was lodged in his throat. Is she all right? You know Lissandra, she's a couragepos little one with a heart of pure love. Tears dripped from his chin to his lap.  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  { PT.  3 } - And what about Papa? Christiano's voice was hoarse. He was beaten up pretty badly and shot in the thigh, but the worst is over. It will be a slow recovery, though. Christiano shut his eyes and held back the tears and sounds that could expose his anguish. Thank God we can trust our doctor to leave the police out of this, continued Rosa. That crazy man would have killed us all if that other one didn't shoot him. I was scared he was lying to me and meant to harm you both. I was beside myself, but I had to get them out of there. You did the right thing, Mama. He was a friend. He found us and warned us to leave. So you're not at the cabin anymore? she asked. No, but it's best you don't know where we are. Is Angelica okay? She is well. Another strong one. Give her my love, son. I will Mama, and you give Papa my best. I'm sorry I can't visit him. Kiss the children for me. Tell Lissandra I am proud that she is such a brave girl, and tell Marco I'm truly sorry. Son, before you go let me have your number in case I need to contract you. Please, I just need to know that you are only a phone call away. Christiano thought for a moment. I have a temporary mobile, but only get in touch in an emergency, and stick to text messaging. When we hang up, I'll text you, so you have the number. Thank you, son. Please, look after yourself and that child. It's clear something of great importance is happening here.                _______________________________________________________ { PT.  4 } - I am proud that God chose you. When he ended the call he did as he had promised,sending her a message that read, Do not worry about me, Mama, Cx. Then he lay back on the sofa, his eyes wide with anguish. ENZO ARRIVED AT THE - restaurant headquarters in the early hours of the morning. Normally he would have gone straight home, but Don Primo wanted to see him. He dreaded what lay ahead as he drove over the mangled gate and parked by Don Primo's Mercedes. He entered the building and proceeded down the steep steps, reaching the restaurant, dense with smoke, to see Don Primo and a few of his cronies at a round table. They were in the middle of a poker game; drinking liquor and munching on nuts and pastries. Hey, room for one more? He maintained a steady tone. For my brother-in-law, of course, said Don Primo. Alessandro, shift over, make room for Enzo. Enzo walked cautiously tot take the seat that had been made available to him. Don Primo put his arm around him and pulled him closer. Are you okay? That's quite a shiner. That priest doesn't act much like a priest--murder, knocking people out, getting women pregnant. Enzo lowered a guilty gaze. Yeah, he's something else. You want a drink? Francesco, bring another glass for Enzo. The waiter came over with a single glass on a silver tray. He placed it by Enzo, and Don Primo proceeded to pour him a whisky, while Vincenzo dealt a card to each man. Bella come to me complaining of how much she has missed you. She made your favourite pastries and left them here for when you get back. Vincenzo, pass the cannoli. She wants me to stop sending you out on jobs. That wife of yours, ah! What my sister wants, she gets. Vincenzo passed the plate to Don Primo, who placed it by Enzo. You know, Boss. I miss Bella too, and it's been a long few days. I know, I know. Take the week off. Rest, recuperate, do something nice with my sister. Just have one drink with us before you go. Enzo nodded and picked up the glass. So tell us, what was it like when you killed that dudes priest's family? Enzo brace himself and knocked back the whisky in one gulp. Fun as always. He chuckled, pick up a cannoli and took a big, satisfying bite. As he chewed and swallowed, a strange feeling came over him. He grabbed at his neck, labouring to clear his throat as an intense feeling of nausea rose from his belly. His pleading eyes fell on Don Primo who returned an arctic cold stare; his face was like the moon shrouded behind a cloud. I know the priest's parents are still alive. His voice was a galaxy away. Enzo's spine arched and his body convulsed. He gasped for breath and clutched at his throat as foam bubbled from his mouth. And I have had a sneaky feeling you helped Angelica run away. Enzo's excruciating struggle reached its finality; his pained expression trapped on his face as his lifeless body froze in the chair. ________________________________________________________ { PT.  5 } - Don Primo rose from his seat with a sour, twisted look. Benito. He motioned with his head as he spoke. Benito stood up, removed the car keys from his jacket pocket and proceeded to follow Don Primo out of the building. What do you want us to do with him, Boss? asked Vincenzo. Don Primo stopped in his tracks, but he did not look round. Feed him to the pigs, he said, continuing to the exit.  _______________________________________________________