by L.C. Barlow
Chapter 22
RUPTURE
Two nights later, it was the same routine. I did exactly as Cyrus had asked. He brought both Alex and me to another religious leader's house, and though I will not describe what happened at Minister Sloan's in great detail here, I indeed committed the slaughter. I showed my loyalty and killed off - as Cyrus said - whatever was in me that was salvageable to that brilliant stranger. It was the most wicked procedure I ever endured at my own hand.
We went to the cafe again. Cyrus had his trinket - one of the little boy's toy cars - and he was inspecting the rubber wheels as we ate. He remarked upon the toy's fine quality and pushed it along the counter.
I sipped my coffee and noticed a few splotches of blood on the arm of my jacket.
"When do we kill the Minister?" I asked, referring to the husband and father of the first family that Cyrus had killed - the one I had resurrected.
"Soon," he replied.
"I think we should kill him at the church," I said.
"Why?" he asked, finally ignoring the toy car.
In reality, it was because I did not want him returning to the home and finding all of them peacefully alive and happy - that his arduous work had been undone.
"It makes a better statement," I replied, "to crack him in a place where one is not supposed to crack."
Cyrus nodded his head, smiling as though he was pleased. "I agree."
It was settled, and I was relieved.