Stolen Souls

57

THE MAN WHO had once been Edwin Paynter watched from the top of the stairs. He had flattened himself against the kitchen wall, become part of the darkness, when the big man broke the window and entered. He had remained there unseen until the big man left the room.

Back when he was Edwin Paynter, he had worked hard on not being seen. He had often enjoyed following people, observing them from only a few feet away, while they were oblivious to his interest in them. Particularly women. He had taken tremendous pleasure in stalking young mothers as they toured the aisles of supermarkets, unaware that he followed their every move. Now and then the woman would pause, bring her fingers to the back of her neck, as if trying to brush away some irritant, and he would have to suppress a giggle.

Once, he had tailed a woman in a business suit from the first aisle, all the way through the store, to the checkout, and out to her car. It had been one of those new Volkswagen Beetles. Many things crossed his mind when he realized she and he were alone in that corner of the car park. A dozen impulses fought for release as he watched her pack away her shopping, none stronger than the urge to save her, show her the way of the Lord. But his higher mind, the part that concerned itself with his own preservation, reminded him that if he acted in such a rash manner, all would be lost.

That woman had no idea how thin a wall stood between her and the beast he held caged in his heart. Had he not been so strong, she would have felt the blessing of its rage.

These people, he thought later that night, these aimless animals, they don’t know what watches them from the dark corners of their world. They only live because I, and the Lord I serve, allow it.

He had taken three by that time, but they had been messy, risky enterprises. The second had been better than the first, and the third better yet, but the spell in prison had taught him to restrain himself until he could carry out his work with the skill it demanded. Then the Lord had guided him to this city, and to this house, and he knew then that he could begin his journey.

But that was all over now.

The big man was no burglar. He had not chosen this house at random. And if the big man had sought this place out, then there would be others.

In the time it took for a window to shatter, Billy Crawford ceased to be. Edwin Paynter was reborn. And Edwin Paynter had prepared for a time such as this. A time when he would have to run.

But first, the big man.

And the girl.

He switched the screwdriver from his left hand to his right and raised his fingertips to the light switch.