The man in the suit edges closer. The barrel of The Tall Man’s gun digs deep into him. His blade slides slowly across the Rider’s throat. A thin line trails, just enough.
“Bless you, Father.” Peter smiles as he bows his head. The child below him grasps his finger in its deformed hand. He strokes its cheek. “Yes, the Lord has.”
“And you think killing a few will end the slaughter? Violence only begets violence.” “Someone has to try.” “But why you?” Jed asks, “Why you, John?” “Because I was chosen.”