Free Out of the Shadows by Timothy Boyd Page B

probably because my voice hadn’t been emotionless, and because I hadn’t asked him to join my creepy community cult.
    “You must leave this church,” he commanded.
    I was shocked by his anger. “I’m sorry?”
    “You must leave before you lead the demons here!”
    “Sir, we weren’t followed. I promise we’ll be gone the minute—.”
    “The demons are everywhere . They’re walking the streets. They’re in the walls. They’re all around us!”
    Mary stirred awake from the sudden voice, loud and unconcerned that there had been a child sleeping on a pew.
    He continued, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “This has happened because of people like you! You are sinners and blasphemers! And God has allowed the demons to come here and punish you! Leave now before you lead them here!”
    Deb coughed, a small bit of blood escaping her lips. “Bear, let’s just go and—.”
    The reverend’s eyes widened at the sight of her injured arm. “Has she been bitten?!”
    I clutched my gun a little tighter now, holding up my other hand in an attempt to subdue his rising emotions. “Ok, calm down. We’re leaving.”
    “She’s been bitten!”
    Mary began to cry, and Deb put an arm around her for comfort. “Quit scarin’ the girl!”
    “ Demon! She has been possessed! You’ve brought the demons into my church! They must be exorcised!” The reverend pulled a handgun from the back of his waistband, pointing it directly at Deb.
    Both hands on my gun now, I aimed squarely at him. “Sir, take it easy!”
    “The demons must be expelled!”
    “I am a police officer!” I lied. “Put down your weapon!”
    Mary screamed, and Deb yelled, “Bear, just do it now! Shoot me!”
    “Demon!”
    “I said drop it!”
    “Shoot me, Bear!”
    “Demon!”
    “Shoot me!”
    “Drop the damn gun, now!”

Barren

VII
     
     
    Milliseconds ticked past ever so slowly, my eyes darting from the hysterical reverend to the sobbing girl to the pleading woman. My senses were hyperaware of the passage of time. Time, which prevents all things from taking place at once. It felt as though hours passed in mere seconds, my brain overloading with well-thought arguments for each action I could take.
    If I listened to Deb, if I were to be the one to end her life, then little Mary would be horrified and not likely to voluntarily follow me to safety. If I ended the immediate threat by shooting the reverend, then I would be killing a frightened but innocent man. And being afraid was no crime.
    From Mama to the reverend, my gun’s aim danced forcefully, a passionate tango of indecision waiting to hold on its finishing pose. Deb, reverend, Deb, reverend, Deb…
    I raised the gun into the air and fired a shot into the wooden rafters above, hoping to command the attention of everyone in the room for an attempt at reasoning with all involved. The blast echoed in the cavernous sanctuary, briefly deafening the group, my eardrums ringing loudly in my head.
    For a few seconds, all was calm and quiet. The lingering echo of my shot vanished into the night when I noticed the reverend’s eyes grow huge with shock. He dropped his gun and slowly shuffled backward. “I… I… oh, dear… I didn’t mean to…” he stammered. He pointed a finger at me, tripping backward over his own feet, trying desperately to flee. “Your shot… it scared me, and my gun… Oh, no… no, no, no…”
    “Bear!” Mama desperately cried out, commanding my attention as I turned to make sure she was all right.
    It has been said that history repeats itself, first as tragedy and then as farce. The muses were surely watching over us now, boisterously laughing at the turn of events as I saw the abundance of blood draining from the gunshot wound in Mary’s chest, the front of her pink hoodie now stained crimson.
    I froze, images of my daughter Annie sweeping through my brain in great gusts, a storm of emotion taking over my body. My newfound strength was unraveling now, the knotted