The Lincoln Myth(122)

Actually, Cassiopeia believed just that.

Bad enough what Josepe had already done.

She could not allow him to do any more.



SALAZAR’S MIND REELED.

He stared again at the angel.

“I was the prophet, the seer, the revelator. I was the dictator in the things of God and it was the duty of the faithful to listen to me and do as I told them.”

That he knew to be true.

“It was my plan to form a temporal kingdom that would be subject to no laws of any government. We would make our own laws and have our own civil officers to execute them. When their edicts were sent forth they would be obeyed, without a murmur.”

That was his dream, too.

“Brother Salazar,” Rowan said. “Look at me.”

He turned from the vision.

“There is nothing there. Joseph Smith is dead. He’s not providing any guidance.”

“He speaks blasphemy. He insults me. I am his prophet. Make him obey.”



LUKE KEPT EVERY MUSCLE LIMBER, READY TO REACT, HIS NERVES electrified. Salazar could go any which way and he had to be ready to counter. He could feel the gun pressed at his spine. Malone stayed just behind him, to his left, where a right hand could easily retrieve the weapon. But not with Salazar’s gaze tight on them. They’d need a distraction, preferably one that did not entail anyone getting shot.

“Brother Salazar,” Rowan said. “I will pray to Heavenly Father for your soul, for you have lost your way.”

“If he did,” Stephanie said, “it was because of you. Tell me, Senor Salazar, who encouraged you to form the Danites? Who directed you every step of the way? Who gave all of the commands? And who obeyed? Now ask yourself, is this man, this United States senator, with you or against you?”

Salazar was obviously rattled.

“Which one?” Salazar asked Rowan. “For? Or against?”



SALAZAR WAITED FOR AN ANSWER TO HIS QUESTION. AS DID the angel, who watched Elder Rowan with a stern gaze.

“I did not encourage or condone murder,” Rowan said. “I never have.”

“We murdered no one,” the angel said. “We saved those sinners from the cold and the darkness. That is good and just and right. He is against us, Josepe. The woman speaks the truth.”

“I did not commit murder. I atoned sinners. That is our way.”

“No,” Rowan said. “It is not. No one and nothing in our church condones such an atrocity. What you did is wrong in every way.”

He was hurt by the rebuke.

“We had a grand vision,” Rowan said. “A new Zion. Just as Prophet Joseph wanted. That is still within our grasp. But you, and your foolishness, have placed it all in jeopardy.”

“Where is the document?” he demanded.

“I thought it was here. I was wrong.”

“And now he intends to leave you to these enemies.”

Rowan turned and walked away.

The others stood and watched him.

He still held the gun, finger on the trigger, Cassiopeia’s eyes pleading with him.

“Do it.”

I can’t.

“Then you are no better than him. You have failed me.”

That rebuke he could not bear. The angel had been with him a long time, never yielding, guiding him to this precise moment when he must decide what was more important.

Now or eternity?

He’d always thought the choice clear.

More than anything else, he was loyal to the prophets.

So he swung the gun around and fired.



ROWAN HEARD THE BLAST THEN FELT THE BULLET AS IT PIERCED his right shoulder from behind. At first it was as if someone had shoved him with violence, then a searing pain exploded upward and out, an agony he’d never felt before.

He staggered a few steps, then turned.

Pain both weakened and alarmed him.

Salazar still had his gun aimed.

He opened his mouth to protest, to ask why, to question the foolishness of such an irrational act, but another blast filled his ears.

And the world ended.





SIXTY-NINE





STEPHANIE WATCHED AS SENATOR THADDEUS ROWAN DIED.

Neither she, Luke, Cotton, nor Cassiopeia moved.

Everyone kept still as Salazar ended a problem.

One down.

Two to go.



CASSIOPEIA WINCED AS JOSEPE COMMITTED MURDER. HER first thought was revulsion, her second anger.

“You did this,” she screamed at Stephanie. “You pushed him.”

“This man is a murderer. Even worse, he’s a delusional murderer. He actually thinks he’s doing good.”

“I am a warrior of God. Server of the prophets,” Salazar said, the gun now aimed straight at Stephanie. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”

“Is that what the angel wants?”

“You mock him?”

Cassiopeia decided to try, “Josepe. Please. Leave these people be and let’s you and I go.”