He pushed past her and stopped at the day care door. He heard two of his soldiers rushing up behind him.
“Stay back unless I call you,” Edilio said. He shouldered through the doorway and swung the barrel of the gun left and right.
Nothing. Empty.
Mary had seen a ghost. Or more likely she was losing it, just like Astrid had said. Too much stress, too many problems, no relief.
Losing it.
Edilio let go of a shaky breath. He lowered the weapon. His finger was trembling on the trigger. Carefully he unclenched and rested his finger against the trigger guard.
Then he saw the plastic sheet, sliced straight down the middle.
“Mary,” Nerezza said. “Terrible things will happen here, and soon.”
Mary stared past her. Eyes searching the crowd. She saw Edilio emerge from the day care. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“The demon is coming,” Nerezza said insistently. “All will burn. All will be destroyed. You must take the children to safety!”
Mary shook her head helplessly. “I only have…I’m almost out of time.”
Nerezza put a hand on her shoulder. “Mary. You will soon be free. You will be in the loving arms of your mother.”
“Please,” Mary pleaded.
“But you have one last great service left to perform. Mary: you must not leave the children behind to the madness that is coming!”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Lead them now to the Prophetess. She waits in her place. Take the children there. To the cliff above the beach.”
Mary hesitated. “But…I have no food for them there. I won’t have diapers…I won’t…”
“Everything you need will be there. Trust the Prophetess, Mary. Believe in her.”
Mary heard a
terrible scream. A wailing sound of terror that shifted to agony. From the far side of the plaza, out of view.
Children were running. Panicked.
“The FAYZ for humans!” Zil shouted.
A gun went off. Mary could see the littles cowering, terrified.
“Children!” Mary commanded. “Come with me. Follow me!”
Children who had lost parents and grandparents, who had lost friends and school and church. Who had been abandoned, neglected, starved, and terrorized had learned to trust only one voice: Mother Mary.
“Come with me, children!”
The children rushed to her. And Mary, a stumbling shepherd, led them away from the plaza toward the beach.
Brittney had come to the plaza, drawn there not by the smell of food, or by the crowd, but by a force she didn’t understand.
Now she saw children running and screaming.
“Is it the demon?” she asked her angel brother.