Nest stared at him, openmouthed.
“Sure, that’s what really matters. Because we might all be here to see it happen, you know. There’s every reason to think so. Just take a look around you. What do you see? The seeds of destruction, that’s what.” A comfortable smile creased his bland features. “But you know something? The destruction of the world isn’t going to happen in the way people think. Nope. It isn’t going to happen in a flood or a fire. It isn’t going to happen all at once, brought about by some unexpected catastrophe. It won’t be any one thing you can point to. That’s not how it works. The Bible had it wrong. It will happen because of a lot of little things, an accumulation of seemingly insignificant events. Like dominoes tipped over, one against the other- that’s how it will happen. One thing here, another there, next thing you know it all comes tumbling down.” He paused. “Of course, someone has to topple that first domino. It all has to start with someone, doesn’t it? Tell me. Does any of this sound familiar to you?”
Nest stood speechless before him, her mind screaming at her to run, her body paralyzed.
“Sure it does,” he continued, inclining his head conspiratorially. His strange eyes narrowed, burning with a fire she could not bear to look upon. “Tell you something else. The destruction of the world depends on the willingness of the people in it to harm each other in any way necessary to achieve their own ends and to further their own causes. And we got that part down pat, don’t we? We know how to hurt each other and how to think up whatever excuses we need to justify it. We’re victims and executioners both. We’re just like those dominoes I mentioned, arranged in a line, ready to tip. All of us. Even you.”
“No,” she whispered.
His smile had turned chilly. “You think you know yourself pretty well, don’t you? But you don’t. Not yet.”
She took a step backward, trying to gauge whether or not she could reach the door before he grabbed her. As she did so, the door swung inward, and Mrs. Browning pushed through.
“Oh, hello, Nest,” she greeted. “How are you, dear?” She seemed surprised to see the man standing there, but she smiled at him cheerfully and moved to pick up another tray of brownies.
As she did so, the man said to Nest, “No, I’m afraid you don’t know yourself at all.”
He gestured swiftly toward Mrs. Browning, who gasped as if she had been struck by a fist. She dropped the tray of brownies and clutched at her chest, sinking toward the floor.
Her eyes went wide in horror, and her mouth gaped open. Nest cried out and started toward her, but the man with the strange eyes intervened, moving swiftly to block her way. Nest cringed from him, riddled with fear. He held her gaze, making sure she understood how helpless she was.
Mrs. Browning was on her knees, her head lowered, her face white, her throat working rapidly as she tried to swallow. Blood spurted from her nose and mouth. Nest’s scream froze in her throat, locked away by the man’s hard eyes.
Then Mrs. Browning slid forward onto her face and lay still, her eyes open and staring.
The man turned to Nest and cocked one eyebrow quizzically. “You see what I mean? There wasn’t a thing you could do, was there?” Then he laughed. “Maybe I won’t stay for the fellowship after all. Like I said, church isn’t what it used to be. Ministers are all just voices in the wind, and congregations are just marking time.” He walked to the back door, stopped with his hand on the knob, and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Be good.”
He opened the door and closed it softly behind him. Nest stood alone in the kitchen, looking down at Mrs. Browning, waiting for the shaking to stop.
CHAPTER 18
When she could make herself do so, Nest left the kitchen and walked back through the reception room. She was still shaking, the image of Mrs. Browning’s final moments burned into her mind. She found one of the ushers and told him to call for an ambulance right away. Then she continued on. She found John Ross standing in the deserted narthex outside the sanctuary. She drew him down the long corridor to where they could not be seen or heard and related what had happened. Was it the demon? He nodded solemnly, asked if she was all right, and did not look or sound nearly as surprised as she thought he should. After all, if the demon had come looking for him, and that was what had drawn all those feeders into the church, what was it doing talking to her, threatening her, and making an object lesson of poor Mrs. Browning? Why was it talking to her about people destroying themselves, parroting in part, at least, much of what she had heard from Two Bears? What in the world was going on?