God’s Chosen Contd.
Reaching the doors for the church he glanced back over his shoulder. A crowd had formed behind him, a shambling assembly of the undead, wearing the faces of the people he had preached to during his tenure. Features twisted into caricatures of hate tinged with an unholy need.
Mr. Feely who ran the stable, a gruff old man who sat quietly through his sermons in the aisle seat of the last pew. As if he wanted to escape his weekly duty as soon as possible. Sally Umstad was there as well as the Plimpton girl. He’d never learned her name and for that he was ashamed. His job was to provide comfort, and he couldn’t even take the time to learn a little about her beyond the reason she had come to see him. Most of the rest of the townspeople were present as well. The widow Barnes stood next to Carl Bisby who ran the saloon. Among the familiar faces was a scattering of those he had met beyond the walls of the church. These people did not attend his weekly services, but he knew them none the less as that was his job.
All of them wore the same slack expression, their eyes glowing with an eerie light as he backed into the church and they followed him. Down the center aisle he moved carefully so as not to trip and fall. Surprisingly as the crowd entered the church they filled in the rows of pews, each taking a seat on its hard surface. Those who were not familiar with attending church wandered aimlessly until the others pointed out what they must do. In time they were all sitting, watching him with silvery eyes, the church filled with an expectant hush.
Reverend Wickes opened the bible to a random page, surprised to find he had come to Ephesians chapter two. Clearing his throat he began to read, his voice clear in the silent church. “And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sin; Wherein in times past ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience:” He paused, aware that other forces were at now at play as those present grew restless with his silence.
He turned back to the bible and continued reading, his voice loud as the world around him became still. It seemed even the birds in the trees beyond the church settled into an eerie silence as he continued.
A tickle at the back of his throat warned him about a coming cough and he paused long enough to clear his throat before diving back in. He noticed in that brief moment of silence that those listening became agitated when he stopped reading.
Is my voice calming them? He wondered and decided upon a small test.
He stopped reading and closed the bible. The members of his congregation turned to one another as a restless wave washed across them. In the back he noted that several had pushed themselves to their feet and were even then making their way down the center aisle towards him.
Stepping back up to the pulpit he opened the bible to the beginning and started reading aloud once more. Those who had been approaching turned back to their seats and settled in as he continued.
What will I do when I get tired? Thirst? Hungry?
To be continued!
Read the entire story up to this point: God’s Chosen
Richard Schiver 
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