I step onto the shore of Dwayne’s sin-cursed island.

“He left the gate open.”

Susan joins me. “Just like he left a canoe for us on the mainland.”

“He knew we’d be back.”

“Hopefully he doesn’t know about the hunting lodge we raided on the hike back up here.” Susan pulls gasoline jugs from the boat and then sets them on the shore beside me.

“Hopefully…” I hear myself saying in a voice full of doubt.

Susan removes the shotgun strapped to her back.

“Granted, Dwayne has some frightening powers…but he is just a man and just like any other man, he can be killed. When he is, the things he has created will pass away with him.”

“Really? How do you know that?”

Susan sighs as a heaviness seems to settle over her face. “You’ve asked me that before…but for now, you’ll just have to trust me on this…”

“I sure hope you’re right…dealing with him won’t be easy. "

Susan looks grim. “The only easy road is the one going downhill.”

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t taken the easy road in a while…”

Susan just grunts and once again checks that her shotgun is loaded.

I look around, searching for threats.

The town lies behind the concrete wall we see before us. A well-worn footpath leads to the sole entrance. An iron gate that is usually guarded by at least five men but now is utterly deserted.

The pier for the floatplane that brings in supplies lies behind us.

There is no help there today.

“Well, this isn’t going to get any easier…” I grasp the jugs of gasoline and begin moving toward the gate. “Maybe you’re right, it’s better to die for something than to live for nothing.”

“We’re not dead yet,” Susan says as she follows me, her weapon at the ready. “And, God willing, we won’t be anytime soon.”

I half expect something to leap out at me as I walk through the iron gate but nothing happens. Before us lies our blessed home…a typical northern town with row upon row of average-looking houses, interspersed with small businesses and the dirt streets that run between all the buildings.

At the edge of the community is a small forest.

Strangely, there is still no sign of life to be seen anywhere.

“Keep going,” I hear Susan saying. “He’s hiding around here somewhere and we’re going to find him.”

“Are we going to find him, or is he going to find us?” I mutter. Still, I know that Susan is right. We have to face this evil or we’ll never have peace…Dwayne never lets go of any of his citizens without a fight.

We move along the street, swiveling our heads constantly, searching for threats but finding none. Eventually, we reach the middle of the community, a town square of sorts. Dwayne had ordered a little park to be built here and it is quite beautiful. It consists of a small stone fountain surrounded by scattered roses, bird feeders, and a few well-cushioned benches for his loyal citizens to sit and enjoy the good he had created.

I enjoy the view for a moment and then turn my head.

A curse bursts from my lips…

“It’s just like him to let us in first and then spring the trap,” Susan says as she watches the mob of overall-wearing men and women pouring from nearby houses to form a circle around us. “Remember Vance, whatever the mob does, it’s Dwayne we’re after.”

“I know…I know…We discussed this all the way back up here.” My fingers clutch the cans of gasoline as if my life depended on it. “They’re the true believers…Dwayne will be able to do more than toy with their minds…he’ll actually have full control of these ones…”

“Just be ready, whatever happens…they’re obviously about to do something.”

A collective sigh bursts from the lungs of the mob and then they begin to walk toward us.

Violence doesn’t seem to be their intention, at least for the moment.

They seem to be moving us somewhere.

Our fight isn’t with them, so we allow them to direct us. Slowly and deliberately we move through the town…Susan and I in the middle, the mob around us, moving constantly, only breaking their silence to roar at us when they feel that we aren’t moving quickly enough.

After a time we arrive at the doorway of a familiar house…yes, this was Travis’s home once, in happier times. The mob forces us to the doorway like a wave tosses debris to the beach. Their job is done, they fall back, moving to form a circle around the house.

Susan glances at the doorway. “I think we’re supposed to go in.”

“That’s not surprising, Dwayne always does his best work inside of houses.”

I set my cargo on the ground.

“I’ll try the door.” I pull a pistol from the waistband of my torn and filthy jeans. “Cover me.”

Susan levels her shotgun at the door.

“Go ahead.”

I walk up to the door and twist the golden knob.

It is locked.

“Why don’t we just burn the place down? We’ve brought the fuel to do it.”

“We’re jumping the gun, aren’t we? We don’t know yet if Dwayne is actually in here.” I consider the pistol, then return it to its place in my waistband. Instead, I pull the screwdriver from its place in my pocket.

“Hurry up then.” Susan snaps then turns her attention back to the mob surrounding us.

My fingers work the screwdriver, soon the door is unlocked, and the screwdriver returns to its proper place. Bruce had dropped this tool beside my head on the day of his hanging, it is only fitting that it should play a role in the destruction of our common enemy.

“Remember Susan, it’s Dwayne that we’re after.”

“You’re right, of course…I just lost my cool there for a minute…”

“Well, I’m scared too but we’re going in anyway.”

The force of my boot sends the door reeling backward.

I rush inside with Susan close behind me.

The only thing that strikes me about the dimly lit living room is that it is still decorated according to Travis’s bizarre sense of fashion.

Travis’s only friend, his wooden idol, still sits upon the shelf where he left it.

There is obviously no one else here.

Susan and I stare at each other for a moment.

“I better go back and bring that gas in,” Susan says as she steps backward.

“Alright. I’ll see what else I can find. Come running if you hear me screaming…” My fingers tremble as they grab a loose cigarette from the pack in my front shirt pocket.

I stick the poison between my lips and guide the flame of a lighter toward it. Dense smoke begins to enter my lungs as I pull the pistol from my waistband.

I walk toward the kitchen.

Sweat tickles as it dribbles down my back.

The floor creaks as I step over a mess of shattered china plates.

I exhale, streaming blue smoke before me.

Seconds pass as I take in the ruined room.

Who knows what evil battle has taken place here.

My cigarette has burned down to my fingers.

I snuff the flame and then toss the butt to the floor.

My goodness…What’s this I see before me?

A cold hand tingles as it touches my neck.

I turn quickly, preparing to kill.

“Settle down. It’s just me. Remember, I was bringing in the gasoline.” Susan gestures toward the red plastic jugs at her feet.

I lower my pistol. “Good. Good. Better we have it than that mob out there. Look at what I found…”

My finger points to the pitted and half-open cupboard doors.

A large red x has been painted just inside the old cupboard.

I turn back to stare at the living room. Sure enough, there, on the wall behind us, is a,”y,” spray-painted in blood red.

“This is the same thing he did to Marsha.” Susan swivels, aiming her shotgun like a true soldier. “Now…the real question is, what happens when we find the z?”

“My guess is we’ll find that out soon.” We quickly move through the small house but find nothing. It doesn’t take long before there is only one more place to look. The basement, Dwayne’s favorite battleground.

I examine the rustic door before me. “You said he’d be here, didn’t you?”

Susan sighs. “So I did, that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

I reach for the doorknob.

This door opens easily and reveals a long stairway leading down.

A “z” has been painted in red on the opposite side of the door.

Just below the letter z, I can see a crudely drawn stick figure with horns sticking out from its head.

Outside the mob begins to chant in a low monotone.

“Get that shotgun ready,” I whisper.

“I’m always ready,” Susan whispers back.

After a brief pause, I step into the yawning black mouth before me.

Crack!

The stairs give way as my full weight falls on them.

Breath explodes from my lungs as I slam into a hard wooden floor.

Then, pain proceeds to sear every nerve ending that I possess.

“Vance, are you alright?”

“Of course,” I gasp. “Keep an eye on the mob outside…”

I lay still for a moment, panting, struggling to recover my breath, and cursing my stupidity. The stairs were the obvious thing to tamper with. Why hadn’t I thought of them? Stupid…stupid…stupid…

After a few moments, I force my screaming body to its feet.

My enemy is here, I must meet him.

The only thing of significance that I can see in this dimly lit room is a large metal fuel tank at the opposite end of it.

“Turn the light on,” I call up to Susan.

She reaches toward the switch on the wall before her.

I pick up my pistol from where it fell.

The glowing yellow bulb behind me casts my shadow forward.

I walk toward the fuel tank, the most obvious hiding place.

A black giant before me foreshadows my progress. Aha, just as I suspected, the tank has more than enough room for someone to hide behind it.

I look closer.

A rubber hose is attached to the bottom of the steel tank.

At one point, gasoline theft was so rampant that most of us on the island had moved our fuel storage into the basement. Dwayne had stopped the thefts after he came to power but the basement fuel tanks remained in place.

This is where he will be hiding…I’m sure of it.

I take a step forward.

I can see Tempest, Travis’s cat creeping along the wall, aping my movements. Then, suddenly, the cat pounces.

A rodent squeals with terror as sharp feline teeth penetrate its tiny neck.

The mob stops chanting.

I can hear the sound of feet running above me.

Susan’s shotgun is blasting out a message of death.

A dog leaps onto my back.

Powerful claws dig into my skin as my knees begin to buckle.

Then, my senses return, I drop suddenly and at the same time use both of my hands to hurl the beast over my head.

He snarls as he crashes against the hard wooden floor and begins to slide.

I look up to see my enemy.

Dwayne is striding toward me with a saw clenched in his powerful hands. The expression upon his face is one of triumph.

He whistles.

The German Shepherd rises to his feet, shakes himself clean from my touch, and then moves obediently toward his master.

My fingers shake as I struggle to aim my pistol.

Dwayne smiles. “Don’t panic Vance…We’ve got all the time in the world ta play our little game…”

My finger presses against the trigger.

The pistol goes off again and again as Dwayne approaches.

“That’s the funny thing bout huntin with blanks, ain’t it…they don’t make much of an impression on whatever your shootin at..”

Dwayne is towering over me now. The point of his cowboy boot slams into my belly. His lips remain still but somehow I can still hear his laughter echoing in my mind.

“Who do ya think left all those supplies for ya down at the hunting lodge? Of course, I did. Awe…What’s the matter…ya look worried all of a sudden…”

Susan’s shotgun has stopped firing.

It’s all up to me now.

I gasp for breath, struggling to form a plan of attack.

A pall of thick grey smoke begins to fill the basement.

Dwayne pats his pet on the head.

“Ya might as well admit it. Ya overestimated yourself…but, that’s always been the problem of mankind ain’t it? Pride…”

Dwayne points with his index finger.

The dog bounds forward.

The cat along the wall is so busy chewing on its prey that it doesn’t see the wrath that is coming toward it.

A cowboy boot slams into my tortured back. “Did ya enjoy my little trick with the stairs? The funny thing about pride is that it always goes before a fall…Yep, that’s God’s honest truth…but most people don’t wanna believe it…still, the fact that there’s always gotta be consequences for your actions is one of the easiest things in the world ta prove. Take a gander at my dog, Zeke…”

The dog locks the cat in its powerful jaws.

His head shakes violently.

The cat grows limp.

“Zeke don’t like cats much…and there ya see the consequences of that fact.”

Dwayne snaps his fingers.

The dog drops the bloody rag that was once a cat. He lifts his head and glares at me as he trots back to his master.

“Yep, Zeke don’t like cats…and I don’t like ta see you an Susan sinnin against me…” Dwayne raises his boot to kick me again but this time I am ready.

“What did I do?” I gasp out as I frantically roll away from my enemy.

Desperately I rack my brain for some idea, some way of escape. Meanwhile, I keep talking, saying anything to distract Dwayne from kicking me again.

“Just think of all the things I did for you…”

“Oh, ya worked for me alright…but ya asked questions about me…ya both did…an the thing is, I don’t like people askin questions about me. Even if we were all just playin a game…that kinda rebellion makes me mad…real mad…” Dwayne is striding toward me with a look of determination. As he looms over me, I reach into my pocket and grasp the handle of the screwdriver. “Ya hear that Vance?” My enemy lifts the saw in his hands as an expression of raw hatred fills his features. “Lately I’ve even started thinkin that I should take this here saw and cut ya both up into little pieces…”

I thrust Bruce’s screwdriver upward.

Dwayne gasps as I force the point into his belly.

Sharpening the point of the screwdriver turned out to be a good idea…

Blood squishes out of the wound and drips onto my face.

The saw falls from Dwayne’s fingers onto the floor beside me.

My enemy pulls a necklace from around his neck. His fingers begin toying with the emblem of an eye that hangs at the end of the chain. His breath rasps heavily as he struggles to speak. “Ya, got me alright…ya got me good…but did ya really think I was gonna let ya win?”

His finger squeezes the emblem of the eye and a hole opens in the floor.

Dwayne’s free hand clutches at his belly as if he’s attempting to stop the blood pouring from it. “Ya see all that smoke comin down here…That’s cause Hell is comin for ya Vance…an I sure as Hell ain’t plannin ta go down there with ya…so, I better get goin…” With those words, Dwayne crawls into the hole, leaving a crimson trail behind him.

The wooden hatch slides shut just as quickly as it opened.

The dog begins to whine as it paws the spot where his master just vanished.

Sparkling orange dots appear through randomly spaced holes in the ceiling. Yes indeed, the fire is coming for us…an old house like this will burn like a wet rag soaked in gasoline.

Where is Susan?

I could use her wisdom right about now.

The dog paces around the room…yelping, barking for attention.

I kneel and study the spot on the floor where Dwayne had vanished.

By peering closely I can make out a small slit in the floor, probably a slit left for ventilation, or who knows what? I don’t really care…a slit, no matter how small, is something I can work with.

What other option do I have?

I look around…there is no other way out. There are no windows…nothing. If, I am going to succeed in destroying my enemy, I will have to find a way to follow him down into his hiding hole.

“That ammunition we stole was blanks…”

I look up to see Susan approaching through a thick grey cloud.

“We did what we could, that’s all we could do…”

She coughs uncontrollably. “Not that it helps much…he’s still gonna blow us all to Hell if you don’t do something…”

“What do you mean?”

She points weakly. “Remember the fuel tank you found when you and Bruce were investigating Travis? It’s going to explode…”

I swear to myself as I run over to the tank.

Overcome with smoke, Susan collapses beside Dwayne’s hiding hole.

My fist beats against the metal.

Yes indeed, by the sound of it, the tank is half full. The perfect amount of fuel to ensure a massive explosion. Dwayne has planned our death well.

A section of flame-drenched flooring collapses at the other end of the room.

The dog has been silenced forever.

Good riddance.

I can hear the mob is singing over the crackle of the fire…what is that song? I can’t quite make it out, but it sounds like the chorus of, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

I must be quick!

My fingers grasp the rubber fuel hose.

Please God, let the tank be unlocked.

My fingers twist the silver knob at the bottom.

Travis must have forgotten to lock it. The drugs in his brain had done some good after all. I crank the knob to the fully open position.

Nausea overwhelms me, forcing me to my knees.

The smoke is an evil force.

Crawl.

Yes, that is what I must do.

My knees scrape against the floor as I slowly return to Susan.

That the fuel hasn’t ignited yet must be a miracle…

I shove the hose into that tiny slit on the floor, then, I pull the trigger, allowing the fuel to pour out in a powerful stream.

A few moments pass as I wait. There must be a good supply of fuel in the room below to ensure a beautiful explosion. Given the rate of flow on a tank like this, that won’t take very long.

When the time comes, I pull the rubber hose from the slit and hurl it from me. Given the lack of liquid flowing from the hose, the fuel tank must be empty.

I quickly shove Susan’s body to the side.

That done, I pull out my pack of cigarettes. I make a selection and then stick the poison between my lips.

Fortunately, I don’t have to search for light.

I take a deep drag as the cigarette ignites.

The smoke goes deep, tearing into my already abused lungs.

I cough as I exhale.

My head is spinning out of control.

I struggle to balance myself.

My fingers grasp the cigarette and toss it toward the target.

The cigarette bounces as it lands in the middle of the slit.

There is a brief pause and then a tornado of fire whooshes upward as whatever lies below us explodes into a raging inferno.

Half a tank of fuel had followed Dwayne down.

He should now be floating in a lake of fire.

Exactly where he belongs…

It takes all my will to suppress the pain as I look around me.

What I can still see through the fog of thick grey smoke isn’t encouraging. The basement is full of blackened ruins and randomly placed embers, silhouetted in the light of the flickering flame.

Soon, the entire ceiling will collapse upon us.

A sense of horror builds in my brain as I examine my almost naked body. My once pale skin is livid where it was burned and purple where it was bruised.

I glance over at Susan and see that she has suffered the same fate. She is curled in a fetal position on the floor where I left her. Her naked back is a mass of furious red and purple.

Her once straw blonde hair is now only a tangle of charred stubble.

We are effectively naked.

Any clothing that we have left is in tatters, burned and pierced by the rain of falling sparks and debris.

A storm of orange that never seems to have an end.

My will fades as the adrenaline leaves my bloodstream.

I can hear myself screaming uncontrollably even as I lose consciousness.