Reversion by Paul B. Kohler

Reversion by Paul B. Kohler

Author:Paul B. Kohler [Kohler, Paul B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781940740195
Publisher: Global Endeavor Publishing
Published: 2018-04-26T04:00:00+00:00


Chapter 37

Daniels led the others up the steps and into the church. The building was historic, made of limestone, with a lobby featuring several stained glass depictions of Jesus, the Virgin Mary, the shepherds, and the Wise Men. Clay stared at one of the shepherds tending his flock. He felt such a kinship with him. To the dedication in the man’s eyes. Back then, surely, with wolves howling in the hills, highwaymen poised to murder you, death seemed just as imminent as it did now.

“It’s the safest place for us right now,” Daniels said. “Or the place where we can all kinda do our own thing. Plus, who wouldn’t want to live in a church for a little while. Gang, look who’s here!”

Clay saw scattered people in the pews—not in any order and keeping a healthy distance from one another. Brandon’s head poked up from between the pews. His hair was long and straggly, and his crooked smile lit up his face. He leaped from the pew toward Clay, who was surprised at the maturity he’d found in just a few weeks. His muscles were firmer, his cheeks were gaunter, his eyes were older.

Clay hugged him tight, slapping on his back. “Good to see you, kid,” Clay said sincerely. “I bet she wouldn’t recognize you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Brandon laughed. “I haven’t changed that much.”

“You’d be surprised how much,” Clay said.

Clay found Marcia, then Jacobs with relief. They’d made it this far. He nodded at them both. Lane wrapped Marcia up, crying and laughing at once, kissing her on the cheek.

Brandon shook hands with Sherman, Quintin, Hank, and Walt. When he reached Maia, he stopped, his eyes dancing.

“Well, well, well. Where the hell did you come from!” he asked, raking his curly, wild hair with his fingers.

Maia giggled like the teenage girl she was. She adopted a flirtatious pose, youthful and vital. Behind her, Alex’s eyes burned with anger and confusion.

“Brandon! What the heck?” she exclaimed.

But Clay’s eyes were drawn across the pews, toward the corner of the church. There, seated alone, was a woman he hadn’t seen in months. A woman he’d worked alongside for years, ever since he’d first taken the sheriff’s position in Carterville. A woman he’d trusted, confided in, and followed blindly, even as it seemed she’d moved their town ever closer to the ends of the Earth.

“Lois Washington,” Clay’s voice echoed.

The mayor of Carterville—or ex-mayor—Lois, got up as quickly as her sixty years would allow. Her jet-black hair—dyed, surely, made her look almost demonic. Her eyebrows were dark lines that gave her a perpetual frown. As she got closer, Clay realized with a start, that while he knew his people’s stories, and he knew Daniels’ situation generally, he couldn’t begin to comprehend Lois’.



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