Revival 6

Aaron remained in the shadows until the last of the congregation had left for home. This was his chance to get a closer look at the sacrificial altar and discover exactly what was butchered on it. He could hear voices coming from behind the red curtain shielding the rear of the sanctuary from view. He was certain the booming baritone voice belonged to the bishop. Aaron carefully peeked around the curtain to see what was going on. The four disciples sat around a table sipping a clear liquid that looked like moonshine.

Their chief topic of conversation was devising one more magic trick that would baffle the congregation and allow them to vanish from the community without a trace. A defunct cartel’s warehouse full of opioids they had accidentally stumbled upon was almost empty. Drugs were the only currency with any value in that village since the global shift. Once their supply of narcotics disappeared, control over the congregation would vanish as well. The only other person who knew about the drug warehouse was Jane. She was a loose end that needed to be cleaned up so they could disappear in a blaze of glory.

Aaron listened intently as the fake disciples devised a magic trick that would be their grand finale. This time, instead of slaughtering a small animal disguised as a baby, they would set Jane ablaze as a tribute to Satan and then disappear into the flames as well. Of course, their vanishing act would be just that, an act. Aaron used all of his self-control to keep from bursting in on the men and slashing each one's throat, but the longer he listened, a plan formed in his mind. It was time for Satan to pay them a visit, but first, he needed some supplies to create a little magic of his own.

The community was a former mining town, so finding chemicals and various explosives was as simple as visiting the defunct coal mine. His training in Delta gave him all the knowledge necessary to create a fireworks show worthy of Satan’s return to Earth. While the villagers went about their daily drug-infused routines, Aaron quietly worked, rigging their town, the drug warehouse, and, especially the cathedral, with explosives of varying intensities. Even now, he had never discovered where they were keeping Jane.

It was Friday the 13th, at least that’s what the disciples told their flock. Most of them were so stoned they would believe whatever date they were told. The congregation was abuzz with anticipation, sensing that something momentous was about to happen. Each disciple peeked out from behind the curtain, waiting for the deacons to force the chaotic congregation into submission. Using intimidation and brute force when necessary, the deacons soon had everyone in their proper place. It was time for the show to begin.

Traditionally, one disciple would emerge from behind the curtain at a time, but not tonight. All four disciples emerged together, carrying large, unlit torches. They walked solemnly to one of the oil-fueled lanterns used to illuminate the cathedral and set their torches alight. Breaking with tradition, the bishop was the first to step forward and address the congregation.

“My fellow devotees, future generations will remember tonight as the most sacred in the history of mankind, for tonight, our beloved Satan will return to us. The sacrifice that we have chosen for Him is properly prepared and ready to be offered. Behold!”

On cue, the other disciples grabbed the curtain and yanked it to the ground, revealing an inverted cross suspended over an unlit rick of wood. Strapped to the cross was Jane, naked and gagged. A cumulative gasp emanated from the congregation as the realization of what was about to happen registered in their drug-fogged brains. The bishop smiled as he signaled to his associates to start the show. It was time for Aaron to start a show of his own.

The Mullah strode toward the woodpile, his torch poised to set it ablaze when a flaming arrow streaked in from the choir loft and embedded itself in his face. Before anyone had time to react, a series of explosions of varying intensities shook the ground. A second arrow shot from the elevated pulpit this time and found its mark deep in the minister's chest. Pandemonium took hold of the congregation and there was a mad scramble for the exit. It was then that an explosion blew open the door, freezing everyone in their tracks.

Aaron, dressed in his long-hooded coat and devil's mask, leaped to the top of the pulpit and, in a commanding voice, demanded everyone halt.

“These men have been playing you for suckers. Everything that you’ve witnessed in here had nothing to do with the devil. They were simply magic tricks designed to con you out of your food and what few possessions you may have left. In return, they gave you drugs and false beliefs. The drugs have now run out, and this show was designed to cover their escape. They will murder one of your people to save themselves. Is this how you want to live?”

“No,” shouted several people in the crowd.

Three of the deacons made a move on Aaron, but members of the congregation quickly stopped them. The church members quickly devolved into an angry mob and charged the altar, seizing the bishop and the rabbi. They pulled down the inverted cross and set Jane free. One person gave her a robe to wear. Aaron tossed aside his devil's mask and walked over to Jane.

He made sure she was all right, at least as okay as anyone surviving such an ordeal could be.

“I’ll be leaving in the morning, Jane. You’re welcome to come with me if you feel up to traveling.”

She didn’t speak, but simply shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. The next morning, Aaron stood alone at the edge of town, enjoying the fresh air and morning sunshine. He heard footsteps behind him, turned, and saw Jane. He reached out his hand, and she took it in hers. Together, they walked off to explore more of the newly minted world.