What a scene!
Questions flooded Sandy’s head in a mad rush. What the hell was that all about? The Savior had said he’d been hired by the late great Dr. Fielding to protect him from the cult, but who was the woman he’d tried to pull out of there just now? His girlfriend? And when she’d put that pistol to her throat—what a moment! Sandy could tell from her voice she’d been serious about pulling the trigger. And then when all seven of her fellow cultists had spoken at once…wow. His spine had turned to ice.
No one was ever going to believe this. He wished to God he’d brought a video camera.
The cultists were all back in their seats now with rejoined hands, and Sandy was about to move away from the window so he could go find the Savior, when the front door burst open. And again it was the Savior, gun in hand, but this time he didn’t stop, didn’t say anything. Moving like a giant raptor he swooped in, grabbed the blonde, and pulled her from the seat, then he threw her over his shoulder and dashed out the door.
Sandy stood frozen, gaping through the window, as shocked—and as mute—as the seven remaining cultists. A few heartbeats ago the blonde had been there, now she was gone. All that remained were her screams, trailing away in the night.
Aren’t they going to do anything? He spotted the little Semmerling sitting on the coffee table where the blonde had placed it. Was one of them going to pick it up and go after them?
No. They just stood there in their broken circle. And then, unaccountably, they all began to smile. Sandy watched the Rottweiler woman pull out a cell phone and punch in a number, heard her say, “Dover Township Police? I want to report a kidnapping.”
The Savior was going to be in deep shit now! Should he warn him?