Pulling up the driveway leading up to the Tabernacle, Sam saw a handful of vehicles parked and emptied. Any people around were nowhere to be seen.
Dad never locked the door to the sanctuary. That's gotta be where they went.
He parked the truck around the back, where the parsonage was. He wanted to try to get an idea of how many people were inside, what they were planning, and if they were armed. Easing up to the back entrance, he slipped inside unnoticed.
Sam glanced around the nooks and crannies of the fellowship hall.
“All clear,” he whispered to himself, his heart racing, “That only leaves the sanctuary.”
He turned his attention down the hall, where he heard... something.
That something sounded like voices. Voices that were scared, panicked. Voices that sounded a lot like lost souls without hope in the world. Then, he began to make out conversations amid the chaos.
“What did you say the angel's name was? Maybe we have to call him by name, specifically?” came one voice.
“I-I told you, I don't know! He said he was a pilgrim passing through!”
That second voice was very familiar... Could it have been... The woman Sam had saved from the muggers?
As Sam listened, it sounded like this group had come here with the intention to meet the 'angel' who had appeared, and pray that they would be spared for the sins of Lumen City. They began chanting for 'Pilgrim' the angel to appear. Without a name, it appeared that they gave him one.
That's pretty fitting, actually.
Eventually, Sam was going to have to intervene, or risk the group turning on one another.
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He took a deep breath, and opened the door that led from the fellowship hall to the sanctuary.
“Hello, can I help you?”
The room fell silent. All eyes turned on him.
The group had been a little larger than he had anticipated, around 30 individuals in total. The woman who Sam had saved approached him.
“Are... are you Pilgrim? Do you remember me?”
Sam looked into her eyes. They were scared, but had more determination than before.
Not wishing to lie, he tried to divert the conversation.
“Pilgrim? My name is Sam Sander. I live in the parsonage around back.”
“Oh... you must be the survivor from the church shooting. We are very sorry for your loss.”
The room took a very somber tone, but the woman continued questioning.
“Pilgrim, the angel. He had blue glowy wings, and a spear. We tho—I thought maybe he lived here? Or visits the church... Where else would an angel go?” The woman sounded desperate, and the group with her looked that way as well.
“Why are you looking for him?” Sam finally thought to ask.
“Well. He needed to be properly thanked for saving me. And... well, we thought he might be here to punish the wicked. Sent from a wrathful God who is going to send us to hell.”
He looked around the pews, and everyone seemed to be in agreement. A few folks chimed in to show as much.
“I don't think that's why an angel would stop to help you. And, God has been known to have a wrathful side, but its not his Will that he should any should perish. God just wants people to see the sin they are in, and choose His gift of salvation.”
The room didn't really know how to respond to that. Finally, one of the outspoken men in the group questioned Sam.
“How would you know that? God doesn't care about this city. He abandoned us long ago.”
Sam walked up to the pulpit in the front of the room. He looked down and saw Eli's Bible, still sitting where it was left from that fateful night.
“Well. How about I tell you all about it?”
And so, with no hesitation, Sam found himself preaching.