Sam carefully picked up the cups Wilder and Nydia had used and tossed them into the garbage.
With the lights blazing in the front and back of the house, Sam turned off the lights in the living room—after carefully locking the door and windows—and he and Jane Ann slipped back into bed.
'Do men really lust after young girls?' she asked. 'I mean—as much as Wilder implied?'
'Many of them do, yes.' He cupped a breast in his big hand. 'But with women like you around, I can't possibly imagine why.' He felt the nipple grow in his hand.
'For a minister,' she smiled in the darkness, 'you're insatiable!'
'Horny, too,' he laughed, kissing her.
She touched him, held him for a moment, and they were as one, and 'Solomon's Song' made them content.
The touch of the sun woke them, and although they did not speak of it, both were grateful for the light.
She rose from the bed, pulling away from his arms. She stood by the bed, naked. Sam reached out to caress her thighs. A loving touch with his fingertips.
'You'd better put some clothes on, you shameless hussy,' he grinned at her. 'You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to tempt a minister.'
She struck a lewd pose, hands cupping her breasts. 'I did a pretty good job of it, you'll have to admit that.'
He jerked her back into bed.
shameless hussy,' he grinned at her. 'You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to tempt a minister.'
She struck a lewd pose, hands cupping her breasts. 'I did a pretty good job of it, you'll have to admit that.'
He jerked her back into bed.
By noon they had packed up all they felt they would need and secured it in the bed of the truck, carefully wrapped in heavy tarps and tied down. Both of them knew they were being watched from all sides, but the street was deserted. Not a cat or a dog could be seen.
'It's eerie,' Jane Ann said, watching Sam work, enjoying the way his powerful muscles rippled under his T- shirt.
'It's like a boil,' Sam replied. 'It'll pop soon.'
Together, they made a last walk-through of the parsonage. 'She was a very, very good actress,' Sam said of Michelle. 'It was her suggestion, her insistence, really, to come out here. Now I know why.'
'Do you think she felt she would finally win you over to them?'
'At first, perhaps. But I believe toward the end she gave up. I think she was going to kill me.'
The ringing of the phone startled them both. 'We still have local service,' Sam observed with a touch of sarcasm, picking up the receiver.
'Sam?' Wade yelled in his ear. 'It's the church! It's on fire!'
No one came to fight the flames. The fire trucks sat idle in the deserted fire stations. Sam, Jane Ann, and their few friends stood in silence and watched the House of God consumed by the licking flames. Anita put her face in her hands and wept.
'It's just wood and glass and brick,' Sam said, 'It can be rebuilt. Saving our lives and our souls is more important right now.'
A group of men and women had gathered across the street, watching the fire. They were drinking heavily, passing a bottle among them. An attorney, once a member of Sam's church, called out to the minister.
'Did you get some pussy last night, preacher? Janey suck your cock for you?'
The group howled with dirty laughter. One man opened the fly of his trousers and urinated in the street. 'Hey, Faye?' he called. 'You wanna come hold my fire hose?'
Chester balled his fists, taking a step in their direction. Sam's strong arm restrained him. 'Take it easy, Ches. We'll just leave them. They're beyond help. But we'll deal with them later—I promise you that.'
'I'm looking forward to it,' the man spoke through gritted teeth.
Jimmy pulled up, his tires sliding black on the street. 'The Catholic Church is on fire,' he told them. 'People are just standing around, watching it burn.'
'I wanted to stay over there,' Peter spoke from the passenger side of the pickup. 'But Jimmy wouldn't let me.'
'Wise decision,' Sam said. 'Come on, let's all go over to Chester's. We've got to plan where we're heading when this thing breaks open.'
'If we can get out of town.' Wade added.
'We'll get out,' Sam promised.
'Why don't we leave now?' Jimmy asked.
'Two reasons,' Sam said. 'They won't let us, and it's not part of the rules.'
'Rules?' Peter was astonished. 'This . . . thing has rules!?'
'Yes,' the minister said. 'Like it or not, it does.' He looked across the street at the knot of profane men. 'And we're playing on their court—for now.'
'What happens when we get on our court?' Wade asked.
'We start killing!' the minister said flatly.
The afternoon wore on slowly. Shaky nerves became more evident among the Believers. Sam made all the women go to bed for a nap.
Over their protestations, he said, 'It's going to be a very long night—and a very dangerous one. I want everyone as rested as possible. So go to sleep for an hour or so.'
When the women had gone, Tony held up a bottle of pills for all to see.
'What are those?' Miles asked.
'Benzedrine. We may need them before this is over.
The men sat cleaning rifles, shotguns, pistols, and for Chester and Sam, automatic weapons.
'How many extra barrels you have for that Greaser, Ches?' Sam asked.
'Three,' the man replied, not looking up from his cleaning. 'One warps, just screw another on and keep on firing.'
'Sam?' Miles asked. 'You know, you never said, but exactly what are we going to do when—it starts?'
'Kill everyone who isn't one of us,' Sam said it quickly and bluntly.
The cleaning of weapons ceased. Only Chester did not appear shocked. He said, 'What did you people think we were going to do? Send them roses?'
'I've known some of those people out there all my life,' Wade said softly. 'All my life.'
Sam quickly corrected that. 'Not those people, . Those people out there, now, have sold their souls to Hell— and most of them did it willingly. Mind implantation, or not, we resisted it, and they could have, too. If their faith had been strong enough. They are not your friends.'
'Two hundred to one, approximately,' Jimmy said.
'What's that mean?' Peter asked.
'Our odds.'
Jane Ann was the first one up from the napping. 'I'm going to make some sandwiches. A lot of them. Wrap them up for tonight and tomorrow. I don't think we'll have much time for cooking.'
'Sam?' Peter said. 'I don't understand something. What are They waiting for? Why don't they just attack us now—or try to, that is?'
Sam shook his head. '1 can't really answer that, Pete. I've told you all about the rules Nydia and Wilder spoke of. I like to think that God is giving—has given—us a week to prepare for what lies ahead. That's the best I can do. Seven days,' he mused. 'The roads will be closed for seven days.'
'It took God seven days, Sam,' Chester said.
