The Book of Power

The Book of Power

Marinus Terblanche

Copyright 2018 Marinus Terblanche

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PROLOGUE

The demon recovered faster than had been anticipated. Grunting heavily with strands of saliva dangling from its fangs it paused for a moment, hatred burning in its glowing red eyes. At the other end of the alley a tall man stood firm. Blood from the cut on his cheek ran down his face and dripped off of his chin. He swiftly removed the old wide brimmed hat and closed his eyes for a second.

As he opened them and lifted his gaze the creature - half man and half beast - rushed at him with its horns lowered. The man replaced his hat, stuck his right hand into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a little book. He turned his one foot slightly, strengthening his stance and spoke boldly.

For it is written, As I live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God.

The hairy creature’s eyes filled with fear. Its legs gave way under it and it crashed to the cement floor of the alley. The tall man made his way to where the demon had fallen in a few long strides, his coat making a sound like flapping wings with each step. He stood over the dazed beast and raised the little book above his head.

Go back to where you came from, he commanded and lowered the book in a swift smooth arch, as if slicing with a sword. The creature’s head separated from its body before it turned to vile smelling yellow smoke. The man removed his hat once more. Exhausted he knelt and prayed.

Part 1: The words of the wicked are to lie in wait for blood: but the mouth of the upright shall deliver them… Proverbs 12:6

Chapter 1

The tall pine trees swayed back and forth rhythmically in the breeze as cotton candy clouds drifted slowly above Refton City, where grunge music had arrived late enough to still linger amidst the new trend of nu-metal and where the internet was not yet as used or understood as in the big cities. Autumn of 2005 would start its visit in less than a month, but for now the sun still shone brightly down onto the town’s most impressive structure; Brownstone High School.

Brownstone was an architectural masterpiece on the corner of Main Road and Harrison Street. It stood five stories’ high with a tower which housed the school library and computer study center on the east wing. The gigantic wrought iron main gate opened onto Main Road. The outer wall surrounding it had been built with jagged rock pieces instead of bricks, making it look rather more like a medieval castle than a school. Even the extravagant town hall was not as impressive.

It was here where Bruce Matthews and Jeremy Slone battled through the last few minutes of their math’s lesson on a hot Friday afternoon. It was the last class for the day. A day that was just like any other Friday, yet it was also the beginning of an unwanted adventure.

Jeremy! Yes you, Mr. Slone. Tell me what answer you have for problem number five in section B, demanded Mr. Weis. He hated repeating himself and since this was the second request, he could do nothing to keep the frustration out of his tone. He removed his glasses and tapped his foot impatiently. Jeremy just stared at the blank page in front of him.

You did complete the assignment, didn’t you Mr. Slone?

Well, I… I mean last night… was all Jeremy could muster before Weis was storming at him while speaking through clenched teeth.

I am sick and tired of excuses Mr. Slone. When do you plan on…? The school bell interrupted Weis and saved Jeremy from further humiliation. The skinny youth grabbed his book in one hand and his back pack in the other and brushed past his teacher - avoiding eye contact - and joined the flood of students in the hallway.

I thought he was going to rip your head right off, said Bruce as he quickened his pace to catch up with Jeremy who was already half way to the main gate. After a couple of near collisions with fellow students who were swimming upstream to the detention hall, Bruce was at the side of his up-the-road neighbor and classmate.

He might still do that on Monday, Jeremy said, rolling his eyes.

Well, that’s Monday’s worry. What do you have planned for the weekend?

Not much. Catch up on my reading, I guess. Jeremy knew he would end up sleeping more than anything but that just seemed like too pathetic an answer. Since his parents have decided that they are ready to have another child (though the age gap would be seventeen years between him and his sibling) Jeremy had tried to stay in his room unless he really had to leave it. The risk of hearing their bedroom antics was just too great. It boggled his mind that they felt ready for a second child but had still not gotten married. It had occurred to him that it might be more his mother’s idea in an attempt to secure the affection of his father whom she feared had developed wandering eyes. Either way, they were behaving like pubescent teens and Jeremy was not amused.

But he was use to avoiding them, or his father at least. Brad (my-buddies-call-me-Boss) Slone was like a tripwire; hi strung and extremely dangerous. If he felt you had looked at him in a disrespectful way, he would leave his response all over your body in black and blue. Many times, Jeremy had to hide the bruises and silently tolerate the aches during school hours. This is why he chose to escape as often as possible, either into his books or his dreams.

At the intersection some students passed them on bicycles and some on scooters. There were an unlucky few whose parents still insisted on picking them up in the afternoon. They tried their best not to be noticed in the back seats of beaten-up Fords and Toyotas.

Jeremy pulled a skinny hand through his greasy black hair and sighed. What are your plans?

As far as I know we are going to visit my uncle on his farm, Bruce said, unable to prevent a broad smile from fixing itself on his face. That’s why I’m glad football practice was cancelled today. We’re leaving early in the morning.

Bruce wiped his brow with the back of his hand and adjusted the baseball cap on his shaved head. He was a bit shorter than Jeremy and nearly twice as stocky. His mother attributed this to her deceased husband’s genes.

Must be a nice place, you seem excited, said Jeremy, brushing his fringe back again.

Hey, why don’t you come with? Bruce stopped walking and put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder so he would pause as well.

I don’t know about that.

Oh, come on, it would be great. You could sleep over at my house tonight.

I have to check with my dad, Jeremy said as they started walking again. He had only known Bruce since the year before and regarded him more of an acquaintance than a friend. Thus, he felt a bit uncomfortable at the suggestion. He didn’t regard himself as a people person and usually felt like a babbling buffoon when in an unfamiliar environment. This perception of himself had made him decline just about all of the few invitations he had ever gotten to social events. Of course, there was also the fact that his father hardly ever allowed him to attend any of these mindless activities. But maybe this time might be different.

They walked in silence for a while and then turned the corner into Blackmore Avenue, the road in which they lived. Both were a bit relieved as they made their way around the last bend in the road. The breeze had died down completely and the almost unbearable heat made the walk feel longer than it was. Jeremy yearned for the coolness of his bedroom while Bruce couldn’t wait to get into the swimming pool for a few minutes. They reached Jeremy’s house and stopped at the crooked little gate. Beyond it was a broken concrete path nearly overgrown with grass that led to the faded wooden front door.

The Slone residence was bigger than the house Bruce stayed in but not very well looked after. The only double story house on the block seemed neglected, almost abandoned. All the bed rooms - four in total - were upstairs while the living area, dining room (which was never used) and kitchen were down stairs. There was no swimming pool in the back because Brad insisted that it would only be one more white elephant that he would have to maintain. Overall, the house looked like the unhappy home that it was. Some would even call it ominous. Especially because there were hardly ever lights on in the evenings. Another one of Brad’s many pet hates was wasting electricity.

Let me know if you’ll be coming over. We have supper at 7 o’clock, said Bruce and started towards his house which was a bit further down.

After closing the gate behind him, Jeremy made his way up the path and to the front door. With a heavy sigh he unlocked the door and stopped for a moment before opening it. He could hear the commotion coming from his parent’s bedroom window already.

I am definitely going to Bruce’s tonight, I can’t deal with this, he mumbled to himself before stepping through the doorway. After slamming the door shut so hard that dust rose out of the wooden frame he paused again and listened until he heard the bedroom noises stop and then went to the kitchen. A minute later his mother walked into the kitchen.

Lilly Adams was wearing jogging shorts and a yellow T-shirt which was inside out and wet with perspiration. Her short blond hair was a mess and there was no sign of make up on her face. Still, she was an attractive woman with an athletic physique.

Jeremy knew that both his parents only worked half day on Fridays but looking at the sight of his mother he had to wonder if they had even gotten out of bed at all that morning.

Hey there handsome, how was school? she asked and tried not to sound out of breath. After a quick kiss on his forehead, she went to the fridge and took out a jug of milk.

Okay, I guess, he paused to take a deep breath. I am going to sleep over at Bruce’s house tonight. Jeremy made a point of it being an informative statement rather than a question. We’re going to his uncle’s farm in the morning.

Okay, just be sure to run it past your father, his mother said before taking a couple of huge gulps from the milk jug, some spilled over her chin but she did not bother wiping it away. After placing the milk back in the fridge, she took a blister of painkillers out of the drawer, popped two tablets out and placed them in her mouth.

What are you taking those for? Jeremy asked but already knew the answer.

Don’t worry honey; it’s just a mild headache.

Really? You have…

Is that boy running his mouth again? Brad Boss Slone’s voice boomed from the top of the stairs, cutting short Jeremy’s sentence.

That man has ears like a bat, she whispered and winked at Jeremy before going back up the stairs and pulling Brad into the room. They slammed the door shut behind them and the giggling and grunting started again. Jeremy went to his room and switched on the radio to drown out what he considered to be the most annoying sound in the world