Читать книгу The Killing Grounds: an explosive and gripping thriller for fans of James Patterson - Jack Ford, Jack Ford - Страница 27

16

In the wet steaming air, near where the muddy brown waters of the Congo River ran deep, Papa Bemba stood over the mounds of unmarked red clay graves. It was best this way. Best for the possessed to remain without a name. To die alone. Unmourned. Unseen. Far away from the living.

Emmanuel had started to ask questions, when there should have been none to ask. Shown concern where there was no place for his scrutiny. And though he’d been warned, his asinine tongue had plagued his words. Voicing his opinion against what he’d learned. Then driven on by an injudicious spirit, and demons which had taken over his mind, Emmanuel had tried to direct others to his way of thinking.

When the illness had struck Emmanuel he’d known it was just. Unlike the others, his illness had been one where repentance and payment were not enough. He’d needed to be an example, to show the villagers how unwise it had been to question Papa Bemba.

Then afterwards, Emmanuel’s family had come to speak to him, asking him the whereabouts of their son. The whereabouts of his body. Wanting to give him a burial he didn’t deserve. But Papa Bemba hadn’t told them because he hadn’t known. Though once he’d thought about it, it seemed so clear. Emmanuel was obviously walking amongst them. Part of the living dead. Because how else had his body disappeared from the hut? Emmanuel had gone. Risen up to walk again. And it was obvious to him that with the power of wicked prayer, Emmanuel’s family had brought him back from the dead – getting him to walk with evil once more. But his family had paid the price. A heavy price. And the sorcery had been burnt out from them just like the others.

‘Papa Bemba are you ready to go?’

He nodded, turning towards the voice of Lumumba, a worthy man, who’d worked for him for six years.

‘I am. What time is it?’

‘Nearly four o clock. Shall I take you to them?’

Papa Bemba stayed silent for a moment. Although his certainty in his calling was irrefutable, and he would continue to follow the path set out before him, there was a lot of work to be done.

Smiling and using Lumumba’s arm to guide him across the uneven ground, Papa Bemba spoke. ‘No, I want to rest, I need to think more about Emmanuel. The others can wait.’

Lumumba sounded uneasy, something Papa Bemba picked up on.

‘Are you sure?’

Papa Bemba laughed, tapping the man on his arm. ‘Quite. But do not trouble yourself my friend, for their time amongst us is at a close. My mission is to subjugate sorcerers, and those who wish to block my path. I realize the only way to overcome the darkness is by the blood of the suffering, and with your help, I will pick them off one by one.’