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Chapel at Ender's Ridge

Page 85

by Beckett Krane

Laurie’s hand crept into his own and he held his breath in the tomb-like silence.

Dust sifted from the carved ceiling.

Footsteps stopped at the last pew.

Decker’s nerves coiled under his skin as he waited for the scrape of wood.

One, two,three—

Another heartbeat.

Weak, urgent, familiar.

Another pair of footsteps at the door. Then a voice, faint but ringing strong through the church.

“Devil take you.”