Kindred Spirit - Noah Harris Page 0,61

Lou to get them all when it was all said and done, but there would be no one left to mourn or celebrate it.

“I really hope I get to see you on the other side, Lou,” Levi said softly.

Levi, no…

“And we will purge the wicked,” the leader began again.

“I’m sorry, Lou. I’m sorry, Jacob,” he whispered.

Jacob’s eyes widened. “Uh...Levi?”

Levi turned his head in the direction Jacob was staring, past the leader who was raising his arms above his head. The man was offering some sort of sermon, but the words were lost as Levi gaped at the group of people approaching from the rear. Not more members of 2218, or even feds.

Just people. Some still in their nightgowns and pajamas, others dressed for the day, and there were even a few people in sundresses, like they were ready for a Sunday picnic. It was the people of Gilcreek, marching resolutely toward them, and every single one of them, from the dress-wearing Mrs. Reed who owned the bakery, to the town drunk Mitch, were armed.

And at the front, armed with a formidable looking rifle was, “Mr. James?”

Levi had seen very little of the older man, even while he’d spent the past week working on the man’s porch. The rainy season that marked the spring wasn’t kind to his arthritis. And while it had been clear for the past couple of weeks, the old farmer had stayed mostly in the house, if only because his wife had insisted on it.

Behind.

Levi glanced over his shoulder, a small choking noise escaping him. There, behind the other group of 2218, was another collection of the townsfolk. They were all armed to the teeth as well, and leading them was Laura.

“You were supposed to be laying low!” Levi barked at her.

She hefted her rifle up, aiming it at the fanatics. “And since when do I take orders from you?”

Mr. James hefted his rifle up as well, and the rest of the townsfolk followed suit. Levi watched him, taken aback by the difference. Arthritis typically left the old man stiff and hunched. Instead, he stood tall and held his gun without the slightest waver.

“Now,” Mr. James called in a clear, booming voice. “I’ve been hearing a whole lot outta you lot while coming down here. But what I ain’t hearin’, is any legal right to be here, shootin’ at these boys.”

The leader of 2218 had frozen, not even glancing around. Levi suspected the man had been even more taken off-guard by the sudden development than he was. Lowering his arms, the man turned to face Mr. James, chin held high.

“Matter of fact,” Mr. James continued. “I’m hearin’ a whole lot of talkin’ about doin’ God’s work. Don’t know about you, but I read the Good Book, and I gotta tell you, there was a lot more in there than all that. And nothin’ that means Levi should be shot like an animal in the street.”

“Not on my watch!” Laura called.

The leader took a deep breath, clasping his hands before him. “Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.”

Mr. James snorted. “Same book tells ya not to judge lest ye be judged.”

“Or throwin’ the first stone,” Laura added.

“Different book,” Jacob muttered.

“I think what the young lady is trying to say is,” Mr. James said, motioning stiffly with the rifle. “If you lot start throwin’ stones, we’ll be happy to oblige with a few rounds of our own.”

The crowd murmured their assent, and Levi felt the atmosphere grow thicker. He couldn’t see the leader’s face anymore, but he could practically smell his indecision. It had been one thing to be willing to face down one of their personal demons and die in the attempt. But if the townspeople were genuine in their action, none of 2218 would so much as twitch before being shot from every direction. For every member of the fanatical group, there were two, maybe three townspeople, all of them poised and ready.

The leader took a deep breath and then spun. Levi’s eyes widened, and he yelped as he was pushed to the side. A shot rang out, and Levi curled against Jacob, praying that the man hadn’t once again found himself injured. There was a long silence, and while Jacob remained taut above him, he never hissed, weakened, or faltered.

Instead, the leader toppled forward to his knees. Levi peered out from between Jacob’s arms as the leader wavered, one arm lifting feebly, and then pitched forward.