Page 65 of Silent Prayer

"This way," Sheila said, plunging into the forest with Finn close behind.

Sheila moved as quickly as she dared through the dark woods, guided only by her flashlight and the intermittent sounds. Branches whipped at her face, and roots threatened to trip her at every step.

Suddenly, the trees thinned, and she found herself at the edge of a road. In the distance, Sheila could make out two figures illuminated by a car's headlights.

"There!" she said.

As they sprinted toward the scene, Sheila saw a man—Dr. Reeves, she presumed—lunge at a long-haired figure, presumably Megan. Without breaking stride, Sheila raised her gun.

"Drop the weapon!" she shouted, her voice ringing out in the night. "Police! Dr. Reeves, put your hands where I can see them!"

Reeves whirled around, surprise evident on his face. But it quickly morphed into an eerily calm smile. "Ah, the police. I should have known you'd find us eventually. You're just in time to witness the cleansing."

"The only thing you'll be witnessing is the inside of a jail cell," Sheila said, her gun trained on Reeves. "Now drop the weapon and step away from Ms. Philips."

"Do it!" Finn said.

For a moment, it seemed like Reeves might comply. He lowered the candlestick slightly, his eyes darting between Sheila and his captive. Then, with startling speed, he lunged at Megan.

Sheila fired, but Reeves was faster than she'd anticipated. The bullet grazed his arm, but it didn't stop him. He grabbed Megan, pulling her close and holding the candlestick across her throat with both hands.

"Drop your weapons," he said, his voice unnervingly calm. "Or I'll crush Miss Megan's larynx."

Sheila's mouth went dry. She couldn't risk Megan's life, but if she gave up her gun...

"Okay," she said slowly, crouching to place her gun on the ground.

"What are you doing?" Finn whispered.

"We have no choice," she whispered back. Then she turned her attention to Dr. Reeves again. "Let's talk about this, Dr. Reeves. You don't want to hurt Megan. That's not who you are."

Reeves laughed, a chilling sound. "You have no idea who I am, Deputy. I am an instrument of cosmic justice. The stars themselves guide my hand!"

"The stars didn't guide your hand when you killed Laura, or Sophie, or Rachel, or Emily," Sheila said, straightening up slowly. "That was all you, Calvin. You made those choices."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Reeves' face. "No, you don't understand. They rejected the truth. They had to be cleansed."

"Cleansed?" Sheila took a cautious step forward. "Or punished? They rejected you, didn't they? Just like your wife did." It was a shot in the dark, but perhaps it would land.

Reeves' grip on Megan tightened, causing her to whimper. "Helen didn't reject me. She was taken. The lightning...it was a sign."

"A sign of what?" Sheila pressed, taking another small step. "That you should become a killer? That you should destroy lives instead of helping people like you used to?"

"Iamhelping people!" Reeves shouted, his calm facade cracking. "I'm saving their souls!"

"You're not saving anyone, Calvin," Sheila said softly. "You're just a man who couldn't handle loss. Who couldn't accept that sometimes, terrible things happen for no reason."

Reeves shook his head violently. "No, no, you're wrong. The cosmic plan…the divine justice..."

While Reeves was distracted, Megan suddenly drove her elbow back into his stomach. He doubled over, loosening his grip. Megan tore free, running toward Sheila.

Reeves recovered quickly, rage contorting his features. He raised the candlestick, charging at them both.

Sheila pushed Megan behind her, dropping into a defensive stance. As Reeves swung the candlestick, she ducked under his arm, driving her fist into his solar plexus. Reeves stumbled back, gasping for air.

But he wasn't done. With a roar of fury, he attacked again. Reeves swung the candlestick in a wide arc, the metal glinting in the car's headlights. Sheila ducked, feeling the rush of air as the makeshift weapon passed inches from her head. She spun, using her momentum to drive an elbow into Reeves' ribs.

He grunted but didn't slow down. His free hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of Sheila's jacket. She twisted, breaking his grip, and countered with a quick jab to his solar plexus. Reeves stumbled back, wheezing, but his eyes blazed with manic intensity.

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