E lbows in front of his face, Cardinal Polletto tried to fend off Father Tolbert, now out of his mind with rabid rage, spitting and spewing like a possessed demon.

The cardinal grabbed at the crazed priest, but got tangled up in the oversized sleeves of his vestment. Father Tolbert sliced at the cardinal’s arms and hands, a menacing grin on his face. Cardinal Polletto looked toward the stands. Alison Napier was frantic. The Black Pope was gone.

Down the middle of the stairs, two of his people were rushing toward the stage. When they snatched off their hoods and pulled weapons from under their robes, the cardinal gasped. Robert Veil!

Cardinal Polletto felt a hot piercing pain in his stomach that quickly spread like an uncontrolled inferno. He looked down. Father Tolbert had plunged the knife into his stomach, pulled it out, and stabbed him again.

I…must… pull… the lever. Everything around him slowed to a crawl.

He heard voices, but they sounded muffled, hollow. He stumbled over to the large wooden lever, looking toward Samuel, who was no longer standing in front of his casket. He looked over at the other two boys and saw Samuel, hands free, untying his brothers. No!

The cardinal, dizzy and weak, grabbed the lever, and with all he had left in him pulled. “Arrrrrrrh!” He collapsed to the floor. Everything went black. Cardinal Polletto heard the deck give way and the splash of water. He smiled as hell opened its doors, blood pouring from his mouth.

“It is done,” he whispered.

69

T he door to the casket opened. Samuel was lifted out of the coffin, his vision blurry, and his feet touched the deck. His eyesight cleared and quickly surveyed the area. Behind him, he saw a horrifying sight.

Children, around his age, were tied up, mouths taped, piled up on the backside of the deck, wiggling like fish out of water.

Samuel looked over at his brothers. They looked as terrified as he felt. Be brave! Stand strong! Eduardo and Felipe’s backs straightened.

Samuel felt his stomach churn. He took several deep breaths through his nose, fought it off, and looked around the stage. They were exactly where he imagined. His eyes landed up front. Cardinal Polletto was staring straight at him.

Samuel kept his eyes firmly on the cardinal, who looked away and raised his hands in the air. The stadium fell silent. Samuel surveyed the crowd in the stands, not able to see everyone clearly. The faces he could make out had their eyes glued on him. He let his gaze fall down to the front row, and almost collapsed at the disturbing sight of his mother in the front row wearing a black hooded robe like all the others, standing next to a frail old man with scary yellow eyes. Alison saw him looking, smiled and blew him a kiss.

Samuel’s hearing fell hollow, his eyes watered. Cardinal Polletto walked over to Father Tolbert with a tray in his hand, but Samuel had stopped paying attention. Mommy, how could you?

Samuel looked over at Felipe and Eduardo. Both looked down at their hands, signaling that their bounds were loose enough to make a break for it.

A commotion brought Samuel out of his stupor. Father Sin walked by him toward the stage. Good, it’s time. Samuel pointed his head toward the rail to the left. If they made it over, he guessed the drop was about ten to fifteen feet down to the water. He looked at his mother, heartbroken, but her attention, along with everybody else in the stadium, was on Father Tolbert, who had broken loose from the wooden plank, and was now slashing a knife back and forth at anybody who tried to get close to him.

Two men grabbed Father Tolbert, but he kicked and stabbed them, sending both of them to the ground. The crazed priest reached down for a thick necked man, whose face Samuel remembered, but whose name he couldn’t recall, and stabbed him in the chest several times, to the horror of Samuel and the now panicked crowd.

“Father Sin, get him!” cried Cardinal Polletto, looking frightened.

Father Sin pulled a knife from under his robe, but Father Tolbert didn’t notice. His eyes were fixed on the cardinal, as he spit and cursed.

“Stop him!” Cardinal Polletto screamed.

Father Tolbert rushed the cardinal, who put his forearms in front of his face and screamed as Father Tolbert sunk the knife into his stomach.

All of the adults around them, including Sister Bravo, rushed forward, leaving the boys alone.

Samuel eased over to Eduardo and Felipe, removed the rope from his wrists, and helped his brothers do the same. The boys ripped the tape from their mouths, then stared in awe at the heap of children writhing at their feet.

Samuel saw Cardinal Polletto stumble over to a large wooden handle and look over at him.

“Let’s go!” shouted Samuel.

Cardinal Polletto pulled the lever. The deck collapsed, and seconds later, Samuel was underwater fighting for air, as the children who were lying on the deck kicked and squirmed all around him.

Samuel couldn’t breathe. His chest ached. He felt dizzy and weak.

The longer he fought, the faster his strength abandoned him. He felt himself losing consciousness, as tiny hands and feet clawed at his face.

70

R obert watched in horror as the deck Samuel stood on collapsed.

Samuel, his brothers, and all of the bound and gagged children stacked behind them, crashed into the dark lake.

Robert picked up speed. “Thorne, I’m going in after Samuel!” He looked toward his partner, who didn’t answer, and saw her deep in hand-to-hand combat with two men.

Bam! Somebody hit Robert hard around the neck, knocking him head over heels to the floor. He dropped his guns, but adrenaline pumping, immediately sprang to his feet. A burly, thick-necked man stripped off his robe in front of him, revealing a white collar, black shirt and pants. Father Sin!

Robert chopped the behemoth’s throat, kicked him hard in the head, and brought his foot down hard on the inside of the priest’s knee, busting the kneecap, breaking his leg. The priest hit the deck hard. Robert looked over at Thorne. Both men she was fighting were down on the ground, still, lifeless. Behind her, Father Kong, Detective Reynolds, and the others rushed onto the scene. A woman tackled Thorne to the ground and punched her in the face.

Samuel! Robert turned, ran to the end of the deck, stripped off the robe and dove into the wet blackness.

Robert felt kicks and bumps as he entered the water. Small hands grabbed at his face and body. He reached for them, pulling the small bundles to the surface. Each time he reached the surface, which was crowded with kicking and struggling children, he found himself holding a child other than Samuel. Frantic, he untied the child, ripped the tape from their mouths, then went down for another, each time bringing up a child other than his godson.

He looked up at the stadium. Father Kong and several of his people dove in the lake to help. Robert went back under. As his eyes adjusted to the blackness, he could make out the mostly lifeless forms of children.

His lungs burned. He felt a surge of anxiety. No, please don’t let him die!

Most of the bodies Robert swam through had stopped moving. He grabbed them in pairs and pulled them to the surface, crashing into others on his way up. Each time, his heart sank. It’s not Samuel.

Lake water mixed with the tears in Robert’s eyes. He saw Father Kong and the others pulling children to the shore, as more of the members of Il Martello di Dio jumped in to assist. Robert dove down again and again. Each time he came up holding another dead child, his heart sank a little lower, and his soul emptied a little more.

“Samuel! Samuel!” he screamed.

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