Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

THE KINGDOM :: 235
“Okay, that was a big one,” Susan said warily, waiting for
an aftershock. Everyone held their breath, but nothing happened.
Slowly, they returned to their meal.
Terry placed his elbows on the table. “Friends,” he said
evenly, “Let’s do what we can for Mikael tonight, and sleep
on what further action to take. We’ve had a hell of a day, and
right now may not be the right time to decide.”
“Thet sounds like the fuckin’ voice o’ Wisdom,” Dylan
pronounced.
“Dylan, why don’t you get together what you need to do
the soul retrieval?” Richard suggested. “Give it your best
shot.”
“After dessert, you mean.”
“Ah...yes, after dessert. Terry, you and I can clean up and
say evening prayer. Sound good?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dylan agreed, relieved to be off the
hook. He looked around for Tobias to give him his scraps.
“Anybody see Toby?” He asked.
No one did. “He was just here a minute ago,” Susan
noted. “He just ran into the living room.” She rose and left
the room in pursuit. “He’s not here,” she called back.
With more alacrity than anyone would have expected of
him, Dylan leaped to his feet and ran to join Susan in her
hunt.
Richard rose quickly and went to the back door off the
kitchen. He scanned the back yard. “Toby!” he called. Just
then he spied one of their neighbors, Myra Koss, peering
over their shared fence.
Richard ran out the door, down the steps and across the
yard to where she stood, her hair in rollers, dressed in a
stained muumuu.
“You boys seen my Mimi?” she asked, working at her cigarette
in a state of near panic. “She’s never run away before!
She loves me! Tell me you’ve seen her!”