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congregationpresent, and hardly noticed how sweltering hot it was inside the sanctuary tonight. Sweat flowed freely down their gaunt cheeks, their greasy hair hanging limp over their weary eyes. Uncomfortable as they surely must have been, none of the three gave their disheveled appearance a thought, their undivided attention solely focused on the candlelit altar and the man standing upon it.
    Joshua Miller was an impressive sight to behold, larger than most of the villagers by nearly a foot and even Angus Tucker by several inches. He’d never lifted weights a day in his life but was big boned and blessed with heavy natural muscle. With his long dark hair and blue eyes some of the women in the Grove had teased that his parents should have named him Samson, and more than a few of the bolder ones secretly dreamed of one day becoming his Delilah and being taken into the reverend’s powerful arms. Even now, dressed in a filthy brown robe over well-worn beige pants and sweating as much if not more than his followers, Joshua was still a handsome man. His rapid descent into madness had taken his soul but never stolen his good looks. Only his eyes had changed, blazing with a wild religious fervor that might have been admirable if it wasn’t so obvious to anyone who looked that he’d completely lost his mind.
    “Desecration,” Joshua shouted, shaking his fists in anger, spittle flying from his mouth. “After a’ our hard work, people from the Grove have defiled our church…crept in the middle of the night and painted blasphemous words on our house of worship.”
    It was true. A group of rash teenagers had filled plastic bags with red paint and hurled them at the side of the church like water balloons, splattering the pristine white walls with what looked eerily like bucket loads of blood.They’d also moved in closer and written the words JOSHUA IS OUR JUDAS and GOD NO LONGER LIVES HERE in big bold letters above the entranceway.
    “We cannae let them get away with it. Those responsible…and also those who hide and protect them. We’ll root the heathens out. Drag the cowardly bastards out of their beds and make them pay for what they’ve done. The Bible talks about an eye for an eye as punishment, but to hell with that! That’s not enough. I say we take their whole bodies and tear them limb from bloody—”
    A fist-size stone crashed through a window on Joshua’s left and smashed into the far wall, having just barely missed striking the enraged reverend in the shoulder. Before he or any of his startled followers comprehended what was happening, several more windows were breaking and they were forced to dive for cover to avoid the shattered glass and flying rocks. Joshua was no fool and quickly realized what was happening. He leaped back to his feet, and stood up just in time to see the sanctuary doors burst open and in walk Angus Tucker surrounded by several of the village elders. Fearless and more than ready to defend himself, Reverend Miller started walking toward his adversary, his huge hands clenched into fists, but before he’d taken two strides a two-foot-long length of heavy steel pipe flew in through a previously broken window, spinning on a deadly path toward the side of his head. Joshua saw it coming at the last minute and tried to duck out of the way, but he was too late. The pipe connected solidly on his right temple, the thud of the impact sickeningly loud inside the room, dropping the outnumbered reverend in his tracks, knocking him unconscious with a blow that would have surely killed a lesser man.
    Angus Tucker watched the spinning pipe strike Reverend Miller, relieved to see his eyes roll back and their onetime leader crumple to the ground and lie still. It was a lucky shot at best, and Angus muttered a quick thanks to the Lord for guiding whoever’s hand had thrown it. Joshua was a huge, powerful man, even before his recent descent into evil darkness, and would have been incredibly difficult to subdue