Damned and Cursed (Book 6): Broken Home by Glenn Bullion

Jesus Christ adorned the wall.   Perhaps she could break the glass frame and use it, although she'd probably cut herself as well.
    "What are you doing, Mom?" Sarah asked.
    "I'll need the key to those cuffs.   I'm going to go get it."
    She searched the desk, and an old wooden cross sat in the top drawer.   Gripping it tight, she practiced a few downward thrusts.   It was better than nothing.
    "Mommy," Elizabeth said, her voice breaking.
    Janet looked down to see her youngest bawling.   She didn't have much time, but she leaned down and hugged her.
    "Awww, baby.   Don't worry.   It will be okay.   I'll be back in just a few minutes."
    "I love you, Mommy."
    She squeezed tighter.   "I love you, too."   She hugged Sarah as well and put a hand on Mark's shoulder.   "You take care of each other.   Okay?   I'll be right back."
    Something dawned on Janet as she approached the door leading back to the hall.
    It was quiet.
    There was still noise.   She could hear movement, and what sounded liked quiet chanting.   But the screams were gone.
    Opening the door, she wasn't ready for what lay before her.   It was the stuff of nightmares.
    The walls of the church were caked with crimson and gore.   A motionless body lay near her feet.   She recognized Derek, from the steel mill.   He apparently thought he'd find refuge in the office, but didn't make it.   He lay on his back, looking up at Janet with lifeless eyes.  
    Dead bodies were in various positions throughout the church.   One was folded in half on top of a pew.   Another was slumped upside down against the wall.   There were more dead than alive, with several people writhing on the floor in agony.   Catherine, from the pharmacy, moaned in the center aisle as her left eye hung from its socket.
    Byron had someone pinned on one of the pews.   His hands were wrapped around the man's throat, and it wasn't witnessing the act of murder that terrified Janet so much.   It was the expression on Byron's face.
    He was so calm.
    Janet saw movement to her right.   Throughout the horror, the carnage, Ed still sat on his knees near the front.   The goat was dead, its throat slit.   Byron's cup was full of blood.   She thought he would grab it and suddenly take a drink, but he only continued to pray over it.
    She stepped forward, and her foot found a puddle of blood.   It pulled at her shoe, and it took a bit of effort to take another step.   Glancing down the first pew, she looked for Frank.   Most everyone still wore their robe, making identifying the sheriff difficult.   Finally, about halfway through the hall, she saw a man lying motionless on his side, holding a gun.   She recognized Frank's bald head.
    Carefully, she made her way down the pew.   Byron continued strangling his victim.   From her angle, Janet could only see the victim's hands, grasping at Byron's shoulders.   He didn't stop, didn't show any mercy.
    She leaned down as far as she could as she hovered over Frank.   It was a struggle to push his robe out of the way.   Frank still wore his police uniform.   Janet was horrified at the thought of Frank doing his job, protecting town, and then arriving at the church immediately after to participate in the debauchery around them.
    The sheriff had a belt with several pouches, along with several pockets in his trousers.   Where would he keep the key to his handcuffs?  
    Her hand was nearly to the first pouch when the sheriff spun.   He looked up at her with panic in his eyes.   His nose was broken, and he was missing a tooth.   But he was very much alive.
    "S-Sheriff—"
    Frank reached out and grabbed her wrist.   He pulled hard, throwing her off balance, and jumped to his feet.   Janet tried to run, but he slammed the grip of his gun into the back of her neck.   The world was moving for a moment, as dizziness attacked her.   Frank locked her left arm behind her and shoved the gun to her head.   Janet froze in place when she felt the cold