dialogue interrupted by loud crackles of static, and she realized that there was a storm somewhere between Randall and Flagstaff. The thought made her aware of how isolated she really was from everything. She considered calling Ginny, but then decided against it. She didn't really have anything to say; she would just be calling to assuage her fears, to feign companionship.
Wasn't that reason enough?
No. She forced herself to watch the snowy television. Besides, Gordon would be home soon.
There was a knock at the door. Marina jumped from her chair and ran to the front. She peeked through the curtains of the living room window and saw a strange man in a gray business suit standing on her doorstep.
She gave a short, sharp cry and the man's sharp eyes veered instantly to her window. She let the curtain fall, backing into the room. She banged against a chair and reached behind her, grabbing it for support.
There was another knock at the door. This one firmer, less hesitant, more insistent. The man wanted in!
'Go away!' Marina yelled.
'I have come to speak with you and your husband,' the man called through the closed door. His voice was loud, carrying with it the controlled authority of a public speaker.
'My husband's not home! Come back later!'
'I will talk with you, then.'
Marina licked her lips, but her tongue was dry as well. She could feel her arms trembling with fear. Slowly, she crept forward until she was again at the window. She thought for a moment, then moved to another vantage point--the window on the other side of the door. She pulled the curtain slowly back and peeked out. The man's gaze was still fixed on the other window. 'I would like to speak with you,' he said.
'I can hear you fine!' Marina yelled. 'Tell me what you want to tell me, then leave! Or I'm going to call the sheriff!'
His gaze swung immediately to her, and she blanched at the intensity of his expression. She noticed for the first time that he carried with him a Bible, tucked under his right arm.
'Who are you?' she demanded.
'I am Brother Elias. I have come to save you from your peril and to deliver you from the brink of the pit upon which you stand.'
'Go away!'
Brother Elias took out his Bible and opened it to a previously marked page. ''Children, it is thethe last hour; and as you have heard that antichrist is coming, so now many antichrists have come; therefore we know that it is the last hour. They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us; but they went out, that it might be plain that they all are not of us.'' He closed the Bible and looked at her, his eyes holding hers.
Is this how these people keep their followers? Is this how Jim Jones got his disciples? She could not look away. It was as if he had her hypnotized.
'So it is written in The First Letter of John, chapter two, verses eighteen and nineteen. The antichrist is not coming, the antichrists are here!' His voice took on the rolling oratorical delivery of a fundamentalist minister. 'We must fight this evil where it dwells! We must bring it out into the open sunshine of the Lord's divine light where it can be dissipated according to the Holy Word of God!' He opened up the Bible again, looking away, and Marina quickly let the curtain drop, retreating back into the room.
She could hear his voice, above the television, as she made her way to the telephone.
''And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world--he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.''
Marina, her fingers fumbling, found the number of the sheriff written on the emergency pad next to the phone. She quickly dialed. The line was busy, and she dialed again.
''And when the dragon saw that he had been thrown down to the earth, he pursued the woman who had borne the male child--''
'Shut up!' Marina yelled. 'Shut up!' She was gratified to hear the loud voice stop for a moment. She picked up the phone again. 'I'm calling the sheriff!' she announced. 'I'm going to have you arrested!'
'I am here to save you from the darkness that threatens, from the evil within. I am here to put you on the path of righteousness and--'
'Get the fuck out of here!'
Marina was aware that her voice sounded panicked, that she was becoming hysterical, but she was terrified. She saw in her mind the bloody kitchen, gray and red portions ofVlad scattered over the tile floor and the Formica countertops. She dialed the sheriff's number again, and this time the phone rang. Someone on the other end picked it up.
'This is Marina Lewis,' she said breathlessly into the receiver.
'There's someone at my house. He's outside my front door, trying to get in--'
'We'll have someone there immediately,' the receptionist told her.
'Don't let him in. Do you have any firearms in the house?'
'No.'
'Then I'd suggest grabbing a baseball bat or a knife or any sort of weapon you do have. Just in case.' There was a click, and the receptionist's voice became muffled as she put out the call. 'Deputy Chmuraand Deputy Weiss will be there in a moment,' she said, reconnecting into the line. 'Don't panic.'
'I'm not.' Marina looked up, putting the receiver down. The voice outside had stopped. She listened for a moment, then ran over and turned down the TV. Nothing. Gathering up her courage, she pulled open the curtains and looked outside.
Brother Elias was gone.
Marina returned to the phone. 'He left,' she said. 'Thank you.' She didn't wait for the receptionist's reply but hung up the phone. She again moved to the front of the room and looked out the window, trying to spot any sign of movement in the darkness, listening for the sound of a starting car.
A moment later, she heard the sound of a siren, growing louder, coming closer. The trees lining the narrow dirt road soon glowed with the blue and red of the sheriff's flashing lights. Behind the sheriff's car, thankfully, unbelievably, was the Jeep.
Marina opened the front door and ran outside.
Only then did she realize that she was crying.
Father Andrews milled around after the prayer meeting, shaking hands and talking with parishioners. The meeting had gone much better than he'd expected. He had never conducted a prayer meeting before, and though he knew theoretically what was required of him, he was sure that the actual practice would be quite different. He wasn't sure he'd be able to do it. But Father Selway's congregation had been kind to him on Sunday, and the parishioners at the prayer meeting had been just as nice. They'd guided him through the meeting, letting him know how Father Selway had done things, but letting him know that if he wanted to make changes that was fine, too.
He grabbed a Dixie cup filled with red punch. An elderly woman next to him, wearing a large hat and too much makeup, reached for a cookie. She smiled up at him. 'My name's Betty Murphy,' she said.
He shook the woman's offered hand. 'I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Murphy, and I'm glad that you could make it to our meeting.'
She giggled. 'Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world. I come here every week. Been coming ever since Jim died.' She straightened her flowered hat. 'I wanted to ask you what you think of that new preacher who's been preaching around town.'
'New preacher?'
'Yes. I'm not sure exactly who he is, but I've seen him twice already this week. The first time, he was preaching in the parking lot in front of the old bowling alley. The second time, he was on top of a car parked near the post office, yelling at the people who walked by.
It was real hellfire and damnation stuff, how we are all going to burn if we don't repent.' She wrinkled her nose distastefully. 'I never did go in for that sort of preaching.' She put her hand familiarly on his arm. 'That's why I became an Episcopalian.' 'I couldn't help overhearing you.' A thin middle-aged man, wearing a gaudy new western
