In the Lone and Level Sands by David Lovato Page A

to attack others. Someone called an ambulance,
but most of the guests fled.
    Beverly sat still, her eyes wide. Tears
started to form. She wanted to rush up there and help her husband,
but fear had stricken her like rigor mortis; she was unable to take
orders from her racing mind. She began to weep, terrified
utterances rising up from her throat as Tylor’s screams entered her
ears.
    Phil, Angela, and Jesse gathered around
Martha to make sure she was okay. Billy pulled on Patterson’s
torso, trying to pry him off of a very bloody Tylor. Beverly’s
husband screamed in agony; he had large wounds on his neck, torso,
and arm. Billy was able to get the reverend off and throw him down.
Reverend Patterson scrambled a little on the grass near Charlie’s
casket.
    “Oh my God,” Jesse said, looking away. He
nearly gagged, seeing all of Tylor’s blood.
    “What the hell is going on?” Angela asked.
Phil put an arm around her to comfort her.
    “I don’t know!” Billy said. “But I don’t
think he’s just gonna stay on the ground for long!”
    Billy went for a nearby fold-up chair and
picked it up. He closed it and walked back over to Patterson.
    “No, don’t kill him!” Emily said. “I’m sure
there’s something they can do for him!”
    “I’m just gonna knock him out!”
    Beverly was on her knees, pulling Tylor
close to her, hugging him, his blood and her tears soaking her
dress.
    “Tylor! Oh my God, what the hell is
happening?” She cried after that, looking down at Tylor, who was
having trouble staying conscious.
    “It’s okay, Bev. Don’t cry.” Tylor coughed,
blood spilled over his lips. “I love you, and help’s coming,
right?”
    “Yes, soon.” Beverly nodded.
    “Then everything will be good. That’s
enough.” He smiled. Beverly tried to smile through the tears, but
it was hard.
    “Come on. Smile, Bev.” She did, and then
hugged him tightly. She froze for a moment when she felt his arms
loosen. They fell to the side, and she felt the life leave him. She
hugged him tighter and sobbed deeply, as Martha and the others
tried to hold together.
    Billy hit Patterson once over the head. It
didn’t help much, so he went for another blow. Nothing. Once again,
harder, and Patterson collapsed. Blood poured over the freshly cut
grass, and Patterson stopped moving.
    “You killed him!” Emily said.
    Billy was panicking. “Wh-what else was I
supposed to do? Let him hurt someone else?”
    People farther off screamed, and a few
wandered aimlessly, moaning, acting much like the reverend had.
When a gunshot rang out, Billy suddenly felt a lot less guilty,
though it was little comfort compared to the fear and confusion
that quickly set in.
    “What the fuck,” Billy said. “What is
this?”
    No one responded, as no one knew.
    Emily noticed her mother standing before the
casket, ignoring the nearby lifeless body of the reverend. “Mother,
are you all right?” She hugged Martha, who was looking at Charlie
in his casket.
    “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Martha said.
    “I know this isn’t going to sound easy, but
I think we need to leave.”
    “We have to take him with us.” Emily didn’t
know what to say to that. She knew that they couldn’t carry a
casket with them, let alone load it into the car. She searched for
a way to tell her mother they’d have to leave Charlie behind.
    A man jogged down the grassy hill, avoiding
gravestones, carrying his gun carefully. He wore a swamp-green
button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up and it was buttoned up
to the collar, the fabric revealing a white shirt underneath. A
patch on the breast pocket read “Alan’s Armory”. The shirt was
tucked into a worn pair of blue jeans.
    He wanted to help, and settled on Martha’s
group, as they were the only ones not fleeing.
    “Are you all—?” the man said. He was cut
short upon seeing Martha. She held Charlie’s hand, slowly drew it
to her face. She kissed it as tears ran down her cheeks. She
reminded him of his