Two days later on a Sunday afternoon dozens of cars pull into my brother's dooryard.  Fifty or sixty men pour out, and storm the house.  A truck pulls up.  They drag out the sheriff, his deputies, and the judge.  They brought out my brother, his wife, my sister and her husband.  They lined them up in the yard, put a shotgun to their faces and blew them away, right there in front of everyone! They took my brother and sister's kids, packed them in the truck and took off. Nobody's seen them since. There's rumors they're now with The Spir.   Then they left a video on the porch.  It had been taken right in my brother's damned house!  It showed him and everybody else plotting the murders.  It showed the sheriff carrying them out.  They must've had four or five cameras hidden in that damned house! We screamed like hell!  But all the local Spiritists were accounted for.  They were all right in plain sight when the murders took place!  Whoever did it was from out of town.  They couldn't do anything, couldn't touch them, so I tried to throw a bomb into their church.  
    I never got in the dooryard!  They gave me twenty friggin' years because I tried to avenge my brother.  The damned Spir won't play by the rules.  They make their own god damned rules.  You kill one of ours and the courts don't do anything about it, WE will.  Well, I'll do something about it tomorrow!  I'll do a LOT about it!  I'm not alone this time!"
    "Amen!"  somebody said, "and it was repeated around the circle.
    "Hey Parks!"  the major spoke up, "Your family didn't even kill anybody, did they?"
    The other lieutenant shook his head.  "Really don't like to talk about it," he insisted.  "Still hurts too much."  
    "Oh, come on!"  the major insisted.  "Share it with the rest of us.  Encourage us for tomorrow!"
    The man looked hesitant again, took another sip of his drink, and finally nodded.  

 

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