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.