All he had to do was slip in during a song and take a seat in a pew at the back. He didn’t want to hear the sermon or the hymns, but he needed some time, even just a few moments, to get used to breathing the same air as Jordan again. At least he wouldn’t be showing up right in the middle of the sermon. The hymns probably sounded warm and inviting to the congregation, but like the church itself, they had quite the opposite effect on him. As he ascended the stone steps to the giant wooden doors, the music from inside raised the hairs on his neck. Then he started up the path toward the church. After five long years, he’d made it this far, and he wasn’t turning back until he had those answers. Well, Darius hadn’t expected to feel welcome. Something told him All didn’t include long lost skeletons from the good vicar’s closet. The only letters that made it from his eyes to his brain made his fists clench inside the long sleeves of his coat. None of that registered in Darius’s mind. Anything else a church felt the need to broadcast on a yellowing sign.

Some piece of scripture meant to inspire love or fear or whatever it was the church wanted from people these days.

Maybe a notice about an upcoming wedding or a baptism. It probably had all the usual pertinent details-the church’s name and denomination. Normally, he’d have no business in a place like that, and even today’s biting autumn wind wouldn’t be enough to drive him inside.īut this church had taken something from him, and he was here not necessarily to reclaim it, but to ask why.ĭarius’s gaze slid toward the sign on the wrought iron gate. It seemed less like a house of worship and more like a barrier meant to keep out enemies and evil while nestling the flock safely inside.Īny other day, Darius would’ve walked right by without giving the building a second look. It was huge and imposing, looming above the modern street with high walls built from stacks of cold gray stone like a fortress.

Just Drive by L.A. Witt