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The Ascension Lady laughed gently.  Of course I am. I am
terrified. That is why I need you at my side. We both saw how
you were able to help me last night. She may attack again, only
more violently.
 And you ll go, even if I don t?
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 I must. She needs me. She needs us.
 Becka? A voice spoke from the door.
Becka turned to see Ryan. He looked puzzled and
concerned.
 Ryan, she exclaimed,  how d you know I was here?
 I called your brother. He read your note. Ryan continued
checking out the situation and the woman.  Listen, we need to
talk. There s something at the library you need to see.
For a moment Becka was torn. For a moment she actually
didn t want to leave the Ascension Lady.
 Now, he said firmly.
 Oh . . . yeah, sure. She started toward the door.
 Rebecca?
Becka turned.
 I will be starting at eight. Your friends are also invited.
Becka looked at her and nodded.
+ =
3:34 p.m.
 I still don t get why you were there, Ryan said as he slipped
a microfilm into the machine and snapped on the switch. The
light came on and the fan whirred quietly.  You re the one who
said she was evil.
 I . . . I might have been wrong, Becka answered.  She s only
trying to help. When you think about it, aren t we really both
fighting on the same side? For the little girl?
Ryan looked up at her from the machine. His expression
made it clear that he had his doubts. Come to think of it, so did
she.
Without a word he directed his attention back to the screen,
and then started to adjust the microfilm as he said,  The more
I ve been thinking about what you said about the Bible, the more
this whole thing s been bugging me.
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Becka looked on, waiting.
 I mean, you re right. Either the Bible s true or it isn t. So I got
here early this morning and started going through the newspa-
pers again. At last he had the microfilm lined up.  Take a look
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at this.
Becka leaned over and read the headline:  Hawthorne Hill:
Site of Holy Rituals.
She glanced to Ryan, who nodded for her to continue read-
ing. It was a 1988 interview with an older Native American from
the area. He spoke of having hunted and fished in various loca-
tions that were now parts of the city. A few paragraphs later he
spoke of Hawthorne Hill, the location of the mansion:
 It had always been a sacred place. Our grandfathers,
our great-grandfathers, and their fathers before them prac-
ticed their magic on that hill. It was a place of strong power.
Spirits frequently appeared. Even as children we knew this
was no place to play.
Becka came to a stop. She did not have to read further.
Ryan spoke quietly.  There were things happening on that
hill long before Juanita was ever murdered there. Probably cen-
turies before.
Becka nodded.
Ryan continued,  So what we saw in that house . . .
Becka finished the phrase for him:  . . . may not have been the
girl s ghost, but one of those evil spirits.
Ryan looked at her a long moment and then slowly nodded.
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5:45 p.m.
B
ecka looked out the car window at the passing houses.  I just
wish there was somebody I could run all this stuff past. With
Mom gone and Scotty playing Rambo, there s nobody.
 What about Z? Ryan asked as he eased the Mustang around
another corner.
Becka glanced at her watch.  Z usually doesn t come online
till nine. The séance will already be going.
Ryan gave a heavy sigh.  I still don t think you should go.
Becka glanced at him. Her heart fluttered, moved by his con-
stant concern for her. Who else would spend all Friday morning
in the library trying to prove her right and himself wrong . . . just
to make sure she would be safe? Ryan was a treasure. One she
hoped never to lose.
She looked back out the window.  If I don t go, will that stop
Julie and the others from showing up?
 No way, they re making it a major event.
 And it sure won t stop the Ascension Lady. If I don t show,
who knows what will happen to her.
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 But she s your enemy.
Becka looked back to him.  She s trying to do right; she s just
all mixed up. Besides, even if she was my enemy  
 I know, I know, Ryan interrupted.   Love your enemies. 
He threw her a mischievous grin.  I ve been doing my reading.
Becka laughed.  But do you believe it? Her comment car-
ried a double meaning. She wasn t just asking if he believed in a
Bible verse. For several weeks he d been flirting with making a
commitment to Christ, and for several weeks he d been reading
the Bible, trying to decide.
He looked over to her and quietly answered.  I m almost
there, Beck. Just give me a little more time.
Becka nodded. She wouldn t rush him. Even if she could
stand for a little more Chris tian company . . . especially tonight.
 I ve got it! Ryan suddenly said.  Susan, from the church.
The one who helped rescue you from those satanist guys.
Relief flooded Becka.  Of course! Why didn t I think of it?
Mom even asked her to check in on us.
Without a word Ryan threw the car into a U-turn and they
were off.
+ =
7:07 p.m.
 But if this thing is a demon, shouldn t Beck and her brother
have been able to, you know, make it obey them? I mean, isn t
that what the Bible says? Ryan was pacing back and forth in
Susan s tiny office. He seemed more agitated than Becka.
Susan leaned forward on her desk, listening. As usual she was
working late. She was a college student and a newlywed. She and
her husband, Todd, worked part-time as youth pastors for the
Community Chris tian Church.
She had listened with interest to Becka and Ryan s story.
When Becka expressed her confusion over the ghost seeming to
be real, Susan had nodded.
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 I can see why you ve started to believe in this thing. But
don t forget that demons have knowledge of all that has hap-
pened. It wouldn t be too hard for them to masquerade as the
little girl who was killed there.
 And they could speak Spanish? Ryan had asked.
 They could speak whatever they wanted, Susan had agreed.
 If Spanish is called for, that s what they will use.
Now Susan nodded again at Ryan s insight.  Yes, she agreed,
 in theory, as believers, Becka and Scott should have authority
over the demons.
 So what gives? Ryan s voice had an edge of impatience.
 Becka has a special guest appearance in her bedroom, Scotty s
attacked by flies, and  
 Wait a minute . . . did you say flies?
 Yeah, thousands of them. Why?
 One of his names . . . one of the names God gave Satan was
Beelzebub. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]