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CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Let him go! Or I’ll shoot you all dead!” My heart stops. I know that voice.
The crowd is shrieking, no longer in rage but in terror. “It’s the devil himself! Those same eyes! The demons have come to murder us!”
I shake the bag off my head. It is Bud!I can’t believe it! “Bud!” I shout. New tears—of excitement, of desperation—spill from my eyes.
Bud points his automatic rifle straight up in the air and fires three rounds, lowers it and points it at the crowd. “All of you! Back! Now!”
He moves through the crowd aiming in the direction of everyone he passes. They shrink back, obviously too terrified to confront the armed Devil.
“You!” He gestures at the Reaper with the rifle. “Come down here!”
The Reaper hurries down the steps looking as terrified as the rest of the townspeople. Bud climbs the steps and comes over to me but keeps the rifle aimed at the frozen crowd.
“Bud!” I stammer. “I couldn’t remember the chant!”
“You couldn’t have chosen something a little more peaceful? I don’t know… like maybe the ’60s?” he asks sarcastically while he unties my hands.
“We will not allow this abomination!” Magistrate Howland suddenly roars, with a dark, shadowy look of death in his eyes. “The devil shall never hold power over our people!” He raises his arm and points at us. “In the name of Our Lord, attack!”
The crowd stampedes toward us. The men form a circle around the base of the platform pedestal and begin shaking and kicking them. The piercing screams of the women cheering them on fill my ears with anger, hate, fear. I feel the planks shaking. Moments later, the shaking makes me lose my footing. I almost fall off but manage to grab the rope, which is still dangling from the tree. I almost lose my grip. I can feel my hands blistering as I dangle in the air clutching at it and my grip slips from it. I dangle in the air, kicking frantically until I somehow manage to wedge one foot into loop. Then I use my other foot to help me swing my body from side to side like a pendulum until I reach a nearby branch. I wrap my arms around it so tightly that I’m afraid it’ll snap in half.
But where’s Bud? I crane around and see that he’s still firmly on his feet, pointing the rifle in every direction to keep the mob intimidated. But he doesn’t shoot.
“Bud!” I shout. “Shoot!”
“I can’t! You know the rules!”
“They’re going to kill us! We’ll die!”
A woman struggles through the front of the crowd, picks up a rock, and aims it at him.
“Watch out!” I scream.
He wheels around just in time but loses his balance and half-falls off the platform.
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THE PHOTO TRAVELER (THE PHOTO TRAVELER SERIES - BOOK 1)
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