Cruel World(89)

It was almost here.

The pain was going to be immense. Beyond anything he’d ever felt before. How long after the flames reached him would it take to pass out? Seconds? Minutes? He shuddered and a sob escaped him. The cries of the mob rose as Archer emptied the last of the can and tossed it away. The minister accepted a long, black candle from a woman in the crowd and turned back to him.

“You came to destroy our home, our world, our faith. You have been defeated, demon, cast out by the righteous hand of God and now destroyed by his eternal servants of salvation.” Archer moved forward, the candle flame licking at the air.

Quinn tipped his head back, found the stars above.

They’ll be waiting when it’s over. I’ll be home again.

He tried to keep his focus upward and away from everything around him, but his eyes flitted down to Archer as he stopped at the edge of the pyre.

Archer winked and lowered the candle.

There was a buzzing sound and then a wet thock as Archer’s throat exploded in a spray of blood and bone.

Archer’s mouth dropped open, and he let the candle fall to the ground. It fluttered and went out as it hit the gravel. There was a silence, fathoms deep, and then a woman screamed.

Archer’s knees gave and he fell, his head tipping back to expose the open wound at his throat. It was wide and gushing blood. He brought a hand up as if to stanch it, but let it fall away. His eyes found Quinn’s, such disbelief there, and then he flopped forward onto his stomach.

Gunshots popped from the far side of the fence, and a guard near the gate fell clutching his shoulder. The congregation became a stampede of yelling people. Most ran toward the church, their cries trailing behind them as they left the circle of light. Candles fell and winked out. There was more gunfire, and Quinn squinted, trying to make out the shooter. A man with a shotgun pumped round after round into the darkness as he walked calmly toward the fence, his barrel spitting three feet of flame. He fired his last shot and waited, shoulders back, stance ready.

A muzzle flash came from twenty feet away, and his head snapped to the side, a chunk of skull spinning away like a hair-covered Frisbee. A black figure raced out of the darkness, an AR-15 swinging back and forth. There was something familiar about how the person moved.

One of the smaller fires flared, and Alice’s white face turned in his direction.

“Oh my God,” Quinn said as she neared. She wore black cargo pants, a black long-sleeve t-shirt, and black hiking boots. Alice swung her rifle around the yard once more and then leapt over the gas-soaked bramble.

“Hey. You look surprised to see me,” she said, moving past him to the back of the post. He felt a tug on the rope binding him as she began to work at the knot.

“I…I can’t…” Quinn said.

“You can’t go anywhere with this f*cking pole on your back; that’s what you can’t do,” Alice replied, yanking harder. Quinn looked up, scanning the area for anyone, but it was only them and the men Alice had shot. As he watched, a bright ember floated away from the nearest fire and flew toward them. Instead of winking out, it glowed brighter and descended toward the base of the pyre.

“Shit. Alice, hurry,” he said leaning forward against the rope.

“I’m trying.”

The ember settled to the ground and out of sight.

He held his breath.

Nothing.

“Thank you,” Quinn said, all the strength going out of his body.

Fire leapt into the darkness, flowing like it was being poured into existence. It licked up through the dry tinder, tongues of flame rising higher and higher. The pressure on the ropes stopped. Quinn jerked his head to the side.

Alice was backing away, her rifle hanging from a sling around her shoulders. Her eyes were blank, hands up in a warding off gesture.

“What are you doing? Help me!”

She glanced up at him, but the glaze upon her eyes was a mile thick. She was gone.

“Alice, get the rope off me!”

The fire rose like a wave around him, the heat growing from warm to uncomfortable to searing in less than a heartbeat.

“ALICE!”

His scream was like a physical blow. She jerked and glanced around, the fire bringing her terrified features into sharp definition. Her jaw clenched, and she rushed forward, disappearing out of his line of sight. A blade of flame lanced up from his feet, and the rope across his chest began to burn. There was the immensity of the pain, a thousand needles piercing his skin, then the rope fell away and her hand was in his.