I am able to stand and hop up the altar before the pew I was in catches fire. Legs bound, I trip and knock Cas and the others over. I feel the inferno building behind me; we don’t have time for this shit.
“What the hell is going on?” Jacob asks straining against his bonds.
There is a tearing noise and Teller stands with dagger in hand. She breaks Jacob and Cas free before making her way over to me. By the time I get up the whole front of the church is ablaze. I help the others bring Patricia down off the cross. We all run for the door, Jacob stops me.
“Get the journals, Solace!”
“No, they aren’t important.” Even as the building burns around them Cas and Jacob look at me like I’m an alien, Patricia stirs a bit as well. “Fine, go I’ll catch up.”
Running back into the main room the heat singes my hair, I can feel sweat steam off me. Next to the burning crosses I find the journals, I rip off the smoldering cover to one and run back through the door just as the roof collapses. Following the already open doors I make my way outside to the others… and a small army of the thief’s men waiting.
“Goddamn it, motherfucking shit.” I scream at the hoard “why is there always an obstacle, another fucking fight. You stupid fuck, Byron. This is bad writing and the reader gets board of the same old scenes.
A few of the Goons make motions to attack but I hold up a stern middle finger to them. “No, fuck no we are not doing this again, you hear me. I don’t want to have to kill you all but goddamn it I will, so please save me the trouble and just die.”
The ground rumbles, it hums with a power beyond my understanding. A silent wind stirs their clothing and the Grass beneath them. I can see them struggle to stand; a few of them fall to their knees and clutch at their ears. One by one they bleed from their eyes and drop motionless to the ground. When none are left I turn to face the others.
“What in the hell was that?” Cas asks.
“Is solace Ogbunabali?” Teller drops to the ground in confusion and exhaustion.
“Sorry we didn’t come sooner.” Andy’s voice calls out from behind me. He, Allan and Edgar walk out from around the still burning church holding what look like wands. “Like my miniature version of Cas’ gun?”
“Patricia your alive!” Edgar runs to her and hugs her.
“Just barely, do you have water?”
While the others tend to her a figure standing up the road we came down from catches my eye. It lifts its hand and waves goodbye at me. We’ll meet again Byron, I promise.