Richard Clay casts his eyes down at the shroud being wrapped up in front of him before sighing somberly. With a final shake of his head, Clay bids the recently deceased Perkins farewell as the rest of the deputies load the corpse into a SUV.

"I'll talk to the Flock, arrange some extra rations for Perkins' wife and family. Not going to be easy carrying on without a man in the house." Clay says to the deputies surrounding him, "Its the least I can do for them."

"We'll catch those bastards that did Perkins in." one of the deputies growls, "You can count on us Sheriff."

"I know son." Clay claps the shoulder of the deputy in a comradely manner, his face looking grim but determined, "We've been through thick and thin together, haven't we?"

"Sure have, Sheriff." the deputy pipes up, "We couldn't have made it without you. Not this far."

"No. You're being too kind." Clay blinks, forcing a few crocodile tears out, "Anyone would have done the same thing."

And then one of the deputies hugs Clay tightly, taking him by surprise.

"No homo." Clay laughs awkwardly.

"None at all Sheriff." the deputy smiles back, "Seriously, we couldn't have survived without you, with the virus and well y'know ..."

Clay turns in the direction the deputy is looking at and bears witness to the procession of Xir's slaves looping around a clearing. The young initiates stagger along, led by the slaves in the bizarre ritual. Danny sticks out like a sore thumb, towering over the other children but he gamely minces along in his evening gown, legs wobbling thanks to a pair of high heels.

"If there was a way out of this ..." Clay probes cautiously, already knowing the answer. He had not spent all this time building goodwill for nothing after all.

"We would take it obviously." a female deputy answers, observing the Xirite procession with a mixture of awe and loathing, "Nobody can live like this. Its no better than hell."

"Its a nice dream to have." Clay murmurs softly and to his delight a ripple of assent rumbles through the assembled deputies.

"Perkins seemed to be OK with Xir though." the deputy hugging Clay releases his hold and walks toward the driver's side of the car.

"And Perkins was a suck up." the woman answers, "He was angling to become a priest too, wasn't he? Turned down because of his age."

And now Perkins was just a bag of meat ready to be buried. Killing the moron wasn't difficult for Clay. But the stress of keeping so many secrets was wearing away at him. Clay just needed more time. Archie told him that it was just a matter of waiting for the virus infiltrating the town to reach critical mass. And once everyone realizes that Xir couldn't protect them ...

They would just have to look for someone who could deliver, wouldn't they?

Clay clenches his fist unconsciously. Things had already reached this stage. It was all going to be worth it. It had to be. Clay would accept nothing else.

"Get back to town." Clay finally rouses himself as he instructs the deputies, "I still need to report in to the Flock about what happened."

And with that, Clay marches toward the procession with the sound of cars driving off against his back. The procession weaves itself into a circle and the slaves gently urge each of the initiates to sit on the grass. Danny sways unevenly on his feet as he dumbly complies with the instructions being whispered into his ear by Kinslee. Clay nods in resigned satisfaction. The young man wasn't hurt, at least not yet. There was still time to contact Archie and work out how to navigate this crisis.

"Sheriff." a raspy voice croaks as a slave emerges from the crowd, "What do you have to tell me?"

The slave's face is obscured by the bird beak mask worn by the Xirite priesthood, but Clay immediately recognizes the voice. Its the First Priest. The one who arrived in Maine with Xir. Steadying his nerves, Clay girds himself for battle.

"My deputies couldn't find the girl and her accomplice." Clay says regretfully, "Once the light gets better tomorrow morning, we'll search again."

"Let us assist, Sheriff." the First Priest responds in a surprisingly affable tone, "The ceremony may be underway, but I can spare a few members of the flock and the dogs. We should strike while the metal is hot."

"Thank you." Clay's voice is even, but he barely suppresses a scream of frustration. The Flock joining the chase would take matters out of his hands. And Clay had no way of sabotaging the search if the Xirites decided to get directly involved.

Clay needed a way to derail the investigation, at least until he and Archie arranged things properly. But as Clay wracks his mind seeking the means out of this conundrum, the First Priest speaks up again.

"I'm curious about something though, Sheriff." the First Priest says, "I was aware that there were two troublemakers. A brother and sister."

"Yeah." Clay nods, his stomach doing backflips.

"The brother has joined our happy family." the First Priest points to Danny as the initiates begin to meditate, "But there's still another accomplice? A mystery third person?"

"Looks that way." Clay affirms neutrally. There's no way to prove otherwise. The First Priest might suspect, but its impossible for him to truly know, isn't there?

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Tell me something." the First Priest goes back to observing the initiates at their meditation, "What can change the nature of a man?"

"Whuh?" Clay mumbles stupidly, taken by surprise by the unexpected question.

"What can change the nature of a man?" the First Priest patiently repeats, "Its a question that has befuddled even immortals, so take your time."

"Great Xir." Clay answers without hesitation.

"Is that your answer Sheriff," the First Priest rumbles disapprovingly, "or the answer you think I want to hear?"

"I truly believe in that answer." Clay replies with utmost sincerity, "I've seen Great Xir's power for myself."

"You see, but you don't understand." the First Priest shakes his head sadly, "And Great Xir prizes understanding most of all."

"Help me understand then." Clay shrugs evenly, "I'm always ready to learn something new."

"What can change the nature of a man?" the First Priest asks rhetorically, "The man himself of course. Great Xir merely shows the truth of our world to the initiate. It is the initiate that must take the final step."

"Sure." Clay agrees, mainly for the sake of avoiding an argument.

"Now, now. The lesson isn't over yet, Sheriff." the First Priest points at Charlotte's son sitting cross legged among the other initiates, "That child was born a boy from his mother's womb."

"That's obvious." Clay rolls his eyes.

"Just wait." the First Priest's hand reaches toward Clay's crotch, hovering slightly above his pants. Clay takes a step back, his expression unreadable.

The minutes pass, and Charlotte's son staggers to his feet like a drunkard, groping at his body. A young boy's voice breaks the silence.

"I always knew ... always ... ever since the day I was born ... that I was actually a girl!"

"The child now identifies as a girl." the First Priest explains, "And as Great Xir reveals more secrets to her, she will identify to her true, fundamental nature. Neither man nor woman, perfection incarnate."

Charlotte's son then begins striding the breadth of the circle with exaggerated swings of his hips. The boy sashays about in his summer dress, a crude facsimile of a supermodel on the catwalk. The Xirites around him clap and cheer, urging the newly born girl onward.

"That's not a girl." Clay instinctively rebuts and immediately regrets it.

"What is a name but a cloak of words?" the First Priest laughs, "The child identifies as a girl, and so a girl she is. For all you've seen Sheriff, you are certainly slow on the uptake."

"Mysticism was never really by thing." Clay quirks his mouth in barely concealed disgust, "Though I think I get it now."

"Metaphysics actually." the First Priest wags a finger, "Ah, but there's something else ..."

A group of Xirites emerge from the woods, carrying a corpse with them. The corpse is laid down in the middle of the circle and Charlotte's son settles back down in his place among the initiates.

"Not burying your faithful just yet?" Clay asks the First Priest, recognizing the corpse as the man he had strangled to death earlier.

"Why bury xe?" the First Priest chuckles, using the official name of a full member of the Xirite priesthood, "Xe still identifies as alive."

"No way." Clay snaps in disbelief but to his horror, the Xirite's corpse begins to twitch spastically on the ground. With a long, sensuous moan, the Xirite begins to climb to his feet, rubbing his neck gingerly.

"THE PERFECTION OF ENDLESS TIME." the First Priest booms, "THE ULTIMATE REWARD FOR UNDERSTANDING THE TRUTH OF THE UNIVERSE."

"GREAT XIR! GREAT XIR! GREAT XIR!" the slaves chant in rapture. Even the initiates shrink backward in awkward kowtows, taken aback by this display of true power. The power that can even defeat death itself.

"Now do you understand?" the First Priest hisses venomously, his hand clamping on Clay's balls like an iron vice, "Do you truly understand?"

"Yes! I understand!" Clay shrieks loudly, driven by pain and fear.

The revived Xirite walks up to Clay and the First Priest, his nondescript face rapidly regaining its color. As the First Priest twists Clay's balls hard, the Xirite stops in front of them and the bullet lodged in his head is squeezed out with a pop by the reforming flesh.

"Who attacked you?" the First Priest demands, casting a critical eye on the Xirite.

"Dunno. Got me from behind. Didn't see a face." the Xirite scratches his cheek embarrassedly.

"Useless." the First Priest curses and turns back to Clay, crushing the man's penis all the while, "So what say you Sheriff? Should I believe you?"

"Yes. PLEASE!" Clay begs. Anything to make the pain stop.

"Oh? And the reason for that being?" the First Priest smirks behind his mask.

"I'm too scared to die!" Clay screeches as his balls protest against the abuse. Anymore and they just might pop like pimples.

"Good enough." the First Priest grunts and releases Clay, letting the Sheriff sink to his knees, "Reflect on your shortcomings. I need to prepare the dogs for the hunt."

Clay curls up into a fetal position, stewing in his anger and shame. Let the slaves see him humiliated, that's fine. There will be a time to collect everything he's been owed.

And Richard Clay always collects with interest.