Act of Suspicion (Part 2!)

     The four marched on, towards the northern border, waving occasionally to scattered patrols of the Knights of Saint Philip, as they called themselves. They took their patron from the church that had become their makeshift base, at least for the moment.

     The northern end of the city was mostly wooded, and it had been some time since it was properly secured. The trio of knights broke off from the priest, righting fallen crosses and staking in new ones where others were simply gone. None were ordained, but faith mattered now, not clergical politics. Andrea began to pray first, joined soon after by the deeper voices of Virgil and her brother.

     "Hail Mary."
Father Corwin took a step towards the forest.
     "Full of Grace."
He passed the first line of crosses, trembling.
     "The Lord is with thee."
He passed the second line, their backs were still turned.
     "And blessed are thou."
Third line, the crosses here were stained red with the blood of the Lord.
     "Amongst women."
Father Corwin didn't notice, trying very hard to be silent, but Andrea had a hand on the butt of a gun, tucked into her waistband.
     "And blessed are the fruit.."
Corwin was clear, passing the fourth and final row of crosses marking the borders of the Province of Saint Phillip.
     "Of thy womb, Jesus."
Andrea raised her pistol calmly, firing twice. The bullets struck Corwin solidly in the back. One went on through, flying heedlessly into the forest, the other hit a rib and bounced, trapped in the traitor-priest's torso.
     "Holy Mary."
Andrea slipped the gun away.
     "Mother of God."
Corwin coughed blood.
     "Pray for us sinners.."
He staggered forward, dropping to one knee.
     "Now, and at the hour of our death."
Corwin fell, dead before he hit the ground.
     "Amen."

     Andrea and Austin chose to return to church and explain Father Corwin's unfortunate circumstances. They would tell the others that he died bravely, destroying others in the name of God. A few would understand that an aging, unarmed priest would not even risk the danger of joining the knights on patrol. They would say nothing, however.

     Virgil wandered till the sun began to set, finally finding a liquor store near the edge of the churches influence, kicking the door down. He dumped half a bottle of vodka on the pavement, for Father Corwin, drank half of what was left, and tucked the rest into his pack, along with a second bottle.

***

     The moon was rising. Chad sighed, checking his his gun for possibly the hundredth time tonight. It was all quiet on the outskirts, despite being past the church's influence and wards. "Hey, Mike. You need to stop volunteering us for this boring shit, man." Mike opened his mouth to respond, but only gurgled wetly, a knife blade protruding from his throat. The rest of the outskirts patrol, nicknamed "Sixth Commandment" turned and opened fire. The shots echoed through the night.

***

     It was just past nine when the screams started. Virgil woke with a start, asleep against the side of the liquor store. He pulled the whistle from around his throat, blowing into it in three short bursts, a call for help, then took off running to the source of the screams.