The church looked worse in the daylight. The yellow paint flaked like psoriasis on the exterior of the building. The steeple didn’t just lean, it buckled where the framing had cracked and was slowly splintering into a more pronounced curve. The house of God didn’t just look neglected, it looked unloved and disrespected.
Spivey pulled his Accord to a stop and gripped the steering wheel, trying to find the rational part of himself that kept him from losing control. He’d been trained, by a hard life and shit storm after shit storm, that anger was acceptable but acting on that anger was not. He’d gotten as far as he had because he never took anything personally. Seeing Mac’s dead body removed every bit of reason from his mind. He was operating on pure fury, and Tawny was going to be the one that paid. Not because Spivey thought the preacher was responsible for Mac’s death, but because he’d most assuredly had a hand in it, even if it was just by looking the other way.
By the time he stepped out of the Accord, the two snake eaters were approaching. The sounds of their boots digging into the graveled surface nearly drowned out the haunting sound of cicadas traveling through the late afternoon haze.
“The church is OL, sir,” one of the men said. “I suggest you vacate the premises immediately.”
Spivey ignored the warning and marched toward them.
“I said the church is OL…Off-limits…I’m going to have to ask you to leave…”
“I know what OL means, asshole.”
“Yes, sir. I thought you might, sir. You just don’t appear to be complying…”
Before the snake eater could get another word out, Spivey knocked him off of his feet with a fist to his temple, ripping the firearm from the former special ops soldier’s belt as he tumbled to the ground.
The other snake eater didn’t hesitate. His weapon was trained on Spivey in an instant. “Stand down, motherfucker. Drop the weapon.”
Spivey slowly raised his hands above his head, dropping the gun in the process, but only so he could make his next move. In one fluid motion, he stepped toward the snake eater, making a half turn in the process, while bringing his right arm down quickly. When he had the man’s arm pinned between his own arm and his rib cage, Spivey grabbed the snake eater’s wrist and drove the weight of his body backward until they both were on the ground, a move that broke Spivey’s phone to pieces in his pocket.
Spivey was on top of the snake eater still locked on to his arm. When the soldier placed his fingers around Spivey’s neck, Spivey snapped his own head up and back, breaking the snake eater’s nose.
The other snake eater was on his feet and advancing on Spivey with an eight-inch knife in his hand. He had plans to bury every bit of the blade into Spivey’s skull.
When he was just a few feet away, there was a loud popping sound followed by the snake eater doubling over at the waist, clutching his right side, and then falling flat on his face.
“Don’t move,” Kenny said, standing at the rear of Step’s truck.
Step passed him on his way to help Spivey and said, “You might’ve told him that before you shot him.”
Kenny watched the man he’d shot writhing in pain on the ground and said, “I s’pose that would’ve been a better order of things. For him anyway.”
Step held his handgun by his side and approached Spivey and the snake eater he had pinned to the ground. Step took long enough to light a cigarette before saying, “Looks like you’re in a tight spot, friend.”
Spivey drove the back of his head into the snake eater’s nose again, making his own head throb. “You talking to me or him?”
Step shrugged. “You, I suppose. Although the same could be said of his situation, and I like him about as much as I do you, so I’d find a way to not piss me off if I were you.” Step smiled while biting down on his cigarette and showed Spivey his gun.
Another backward head butt to the snake eater’s nose. “Yeah, well, these two had guns and you can see how nice I was to them.”
The snake eater under Spivey roared.
Annoyed, Step shook his head. “Roll off the man.”
“What? No.”
“Roll off him,” Step demanded.
Spivey hesitated and then did as Step said.
Blood poured from the snake eater’s disfigured nose. He released an animalistic scream and reached for his knife on his belt. Step fired two quick shots, hitting him both times in the left knee. The man’s scream changed in tone from anger to agony.
“Now, you’re gonna wanna stop that,” Step said. “I shot you because you were making all that racket. Keep at it and I’ll shoot you some more.”
The man let out one unrestrained scream and then bit his bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet. It was only minimally effective.
Spivey stood, rubbing the back of his head. “Why are you here?”
“Dani called. Said you were on your way to stupid. Asked us to detour you.”
“How’d she know I’d come here?”
“She didn’t. We did.”
“Step,” Kenny said.
Step turned to his partner, who was stooped down next to the snake eater he’d shot.
“This one’s spent.”
“You shot him. That’s bound to happen.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to kill him. Just wanted to slow him down.”
“Mission accomplished,” Step said, turning back to Spivey. “Knew you’d come here, but it ain’t gonna do you no good. Tawny’s a lot of things, but a rat ain’t one of them. He lies like he breathes. Not an ounce of thought goes into it.”
Spivey marched toward the church. “Well, he’ll either stop lying or stop breathing by the time I’m done with him. His choice.”
Kenny started to follow him, but Step stopped him. “But Dani said to keep him out of trouble.”
“Since we showed up there’s a dead fella and a crippled fella. I’d say Dani called the wrong crackers to steer somebody away from trouble.”
Spivey entered the church and hid himself behind the column immediately to his left. The gunshots and commotion outside had surely put everyone inside the church on red alert. After a few minutes, he dashed to the outer aisle and made his way to the altar. The only thing he heard was the sound of his own breathing. By the time he made it to the front row of pews, he knew the church was empty.
He climbed the altar and headed to the area behind a curtain where he found a small office. There was a dry spot of blood in front of the cluttered desk and remnants of the cheap watch he’d given to Woodrow. He went through the mess of papers and discarded food containers looking for a clue to where he’d find Tawny. He tore through the contents of a file cabinet and dumped everything out of the desk drawers. Nothing he found was of any use.
Frustrated, he scanned the room and found one area of the small space that wasn’t visible to him, the back of the door. He quickly pushed it shut and found a letter pinned to the thin plywood, a hand-drawn target circling the letterhead.
The note was from Moms Against Guns. It was an invitation for Tawny, as a member of the clergy, to participate in the Million Moms Against Guns demonstration. They needed bodies, not just mothers, and not just women. They needed everyone who was tired of the senseless gun violence. Tawny was even invited to speak at their main demonstration site in his state, the University of Tennessee.
Spivey ran out of the office and headed for the entrance. He had the information he needed. He was a little disappointed he hadn’t gotten to beat it out of Tawny, but at least he could now stop the Gray Rise.