Master of Plagues by D. B. Reynolds (reading rainbow books .TXT) 📕

the fire was already out by the time they arrived over here on Santa Monica. Lieutenant Franklin, I think you’d hear the story of your life after listening to the preacher. The man might be too far gone with religion.”
“Find out anything else?”
“His name is the Reverend Wesley David Warren from Knoxville, Tennessee. CNN, ABC, CBS, NBC and Sixty Minutes, they all did stories about him being a fiery-tempered preacher who leads anti-gay demonstrations all over the country. He and some of his followers are the ones who set the nightclub on fire.”
“Yeah, the bouncer told me. Did he travel all the way from Knoxville to Los Angeles?”
Lieutenant Franklin had his own suspicions about the flying sharks.
“Using both of those white buses, he and his church members drove halfway around the country. They’d heard about the upcoming celebration for the overturn of Proposition Ten.”
“It’s obvious that they knew thousands of gay people would be in attendance at this particular nightclub.”
“Someone might’ve tipped them off.”
“The world’s getting crazier by the day.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Weird stories are popping up everywhere,” Lieutenant Franklin substantiated, combing through his thick mustache with his fingers. “It wasn’t too long ago that a group of sicko perverts claim that a whole lotta man-sized rats attacked them inside a condominium in New York City.”
“Weren’t they the guys who were going to gang-rape that ten year old Russian immigrant girl?”
“I see you read the report on the national criminal database. Then, a group of rednecks right outside of Dallas claim that a buncha fire ants the size of Dallas Cowboys Football players attacked them.”
“The ones who were going to hang the black man?”
“Right again, Lieutenant Sellers. The insaneness doesn’t stop there. These gang members in Miami claim that they were attacked by a giant swarm of killer bees that were the size of Miami Dolphins football players.”
“The ones who were going to rob the blind man?”
“Once again, you’re correct, Lieutenant Sellers. Now, we’ve got a homosexual-hating Southern preacher who claims that him and his religious fanatics were attacked by giant flying sharks. What’s extreme about all this, is how all of them claim that the rats and ants and bees and sharks could speak English just as good as any person. How can sharks fly and live outside of water? I know that that is beyond me.”
“Beyond the both of us.”
“I’ll have a word with this reverend before they carry him away in the ambulance.”
Lieutenant Franklin took a strong swallow as he stepped to the back of the ambulance due to carry away Reverend Warren. “Sir, are you the Reverend Wesley David Warren?”
“That I am,” Reverend Warren screeched, still feeling pain from the shark attacks. “Who might you be?”
“Sir, I’m Lieutenant Theodore Franklin from the West Hollywood Sheriff’s Station. Is it true that you and your followers tried to burn down Club Sidelines?”
“Sure as I’m laid out on this stretcher,” Reverend Warren honestly admitted. “Those gay-homosexual sinners in there should’ve burned here on Earth, and then burned again in the eternal fires of hell.”
“But you can’t take the law into your own hands.”
“God’s law or man’s law?”
“Neither, sir.”
“I’m exercising my rights.”
Well, how tough Reverend Warren talked while he felt the pain from his own transgressions.
When did God turn over the power to kill another human being to him?
“You don’t have the right to try and burn up a lot of innocent people. Whether they’re gay or straight, they’re black or white, be they rich or poor, religious or non-religious, foreign or domestic, you don’t have the right to kill people just because of their sexual-orientation.”
“Like hell I don’t!”
“Reverend Warren, you’re facing multiple counts of voluntary manslaughter. Had any of those people got burned up, you and your followers would’ve been facing capital punishment.”
“Those homosexuals should’ve burned to a crisp. Their corpses should’ve turned to ashes like Lot’s wife in The Bible.”
“Why are you so mean-spirited?”
“Because all homosexuals should be wiped off the face of the Earth. They have brought down the wrath of God, and the United States will be judged, and this country will be punished by natural disasters and incureable diseases.”
“Reverend, how’d you find out about the celebration of Proposition Ten here at Club Sidelines?”
“Saw it on a cable television station.”
“And you drove all the way from Knoxville?”
“Sure in hell’s did.”
Lieutenant Franklin looked up in the dark skies and shook his head. “Reverend, were you and your church people attacked by flying sharks?”
“Just as sure as I’m laying here talking to you.”
“The sharks, what exactly did they do to you all?”
“My God, it’s what they did to that building and then did to us. These sharks shot gallons and gallons of water all around the building until the fire was gone. One of them in particular, it had a bright blue glow all around its body. That’s the one that flew down and scraped me with those butcher knife sharp teeth. Next thing I knew, the shark was talking to me.”
“What did it say?”
“How it was sent by its master to plague me and my people.”
“Did the shark say who its master was?”
“Wouldn’t tell me that much.”
“Why would the shark’s master be sent to plague you and your people?”
“Can’t tell you that, Lieutenant.”
The EMTs had done their job at the scene. Reverend Warren and his followers were now headed to a local hospital for further medical care. Lieutenant Franklin couldn’t wait to relay the story he’d been told to the District Attorney’s Office.


CHAPTER—26

LIGHTS! CAMERAS! ACCIDENTS ON THE SET!

How proud it must’ve been for the parents of Taylor Warrwick after he received his graduate diploma from NYU’s prestigious Tisch School of the Arts in filmmaking. His master of fine arts degree paved the way for a very lucrative film career. Taylor packed up his bags and left New York for Los Angeles, the moviemaking capital of the world. He’d left behind old dreams and conjured up new ones after he got to the “City of Angels”.
On the set of his first low budget film, “Fallen Blue Warrior”, he met a young beautiful actress who’d been given the stage name Laurie Lockhart. Laurie was born with moviestar good looks. She had a full head of wavy brunette hair and café ole skin which gained her favor in casting circles. With Taylor rising among the ranks of award-winning directors, he used his Tinsel Town power to draw Laurie closer within his own circle.
After a six month courtship, he asked her to marry him when the couple vacationed in Hawaii. Knowing that Taylor had a bright future as a movie director, she conservatively accepted his proposal. Six years after marriage, they became the proud parents of two daughters, Brittney and Barbara Warrwick. Being the force behind two Hollywood blockbusters, he was now ready to take on the biggest challenge of his filmmaking career.
The new movie he’d embarked upon was entitled: “Five Iron Men”. It was a crime thriller set in the middle nineteen nineties. The story was based on five mobsters from the four Midwestern cities of Chicago, Cleveland, Kansas City, and Milwaukee who were determined to rebuild a criminal dynasty. Taylor read the runaway New York Times Bestseller and just fell in love with it. The author collaborated with a scriptwriter, and in one year flat, the studios greenlighted the project. Taylor loved gangster stories and felt honored to be hired as the director.
Halfway through shooting the movie, they’d come to a scene which involved the car bombing of a mischevious real estate mogul. The location was in a gated neighborhood of Beverly Hills. The film crew were in place with their equipment. The hairdresser and make-up artists were busy creating the look Taylor wanted for his actors. The costume designer and her assistant worked tiredly to fit the garments on large and small people. The cinematographer, director of photography, and camera operators waited for instructions from Taylor.
He pointed in every direction around an exclusive Beverly Hills mansion to show his director of photography how the scene was to be shot. “Here’s how we should approach this scene. What I want is the perfect aperture, filter, and lighting when the car explodes. Can you picture it that way?”
“We should get the desired effect once the car explodes,” the D.O.P. relayed to his boss.
“I agree.”
The second camera operator listened to Taylor’s concise directions. “I want this scene captured in the most meticulous way. Have your cameras set for every angle of the explosion.”
“Every angle should come in with a perfect focus.”
The most important people involved with this particular scene were the pyrotechnics team. They were set to place all the needed materials inside the polished black Mercedes-Benz.
Taylor stood by the Mercedes with the head of the pyrotechnics team. “Is our stuntman prepared for the car explosion?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Dressed with the proper clothing to protect him from any burns?”
“Proper as can be.”
“Have the glass windows been replaced with the candy glass?”
“Replaced and ready for the scene.”
“Engine removed and replaced with explosives?”
“Already in place.”
“Fireball mixture ready to go?”
“Ready to go.”
The pyrotechnics leader fed Taylor all the information he wanted to hear. The time had come to shoot the actual car bombing. The actor hired to play the real estate mogul was instructed to walk out of the house.
“Action!” Taylor shouted through a small megaphone.
The actor came out of the house and walked