DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by 
sexually explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading 
now. This material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes 
without the consent of the author.

Glen Wiseman
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2003

Chapter 20

In the dark, the cold sucked the warmth from Glen as he lay on the 
ground near the edge of the woods. The ground had begun to give 
up its heat at the end of September as nights cooled down. By the 
end of October, the ground was cold. Lying upon it, the ground felt 
like ice. The night air was chill, the faint breeze cut through his 
clothes making him even more miserable. He shivered, but did his 
best not to make noise.

The past two days had been more exhausting than a human being 
should have to experience. He had made the funeral arrangements 
for Cliff. Spaces for parking twenty cars behind Cliff's house had 
taken him hours to clear. He had taken care of the twins and CJ, 
none of whom wanted to leave his side. Last night, he had written 
an editorial for the next edition of the magazine that explained 
what happened when narrow minded people decided that you were 
evil. The hardest thing to deal with had been the press. Gathering 
in town like vultures circling a dead cow, they wouldn't leave him 
alone.

The funeral had lasted longer than expected and was very well 
attended. Even the twins were surprised by how many people knew 
Cliff and liked him. Oliver and his whole family had shown up. 
Just about every customer that he had ever helped in the store was 
there. After a request from the pastor of the church, they had 
decided to give people a chance to get up and tell a story about 
Cliff. The number of stories about how he had helped this person 
or that person was overwhelming. The twins cried through most of 
it; CJ was inconsolable. 

Glen's recollections of the funeral were interrupted when the radio 
ear-piece crackled. George announced, "A caravan of cars has just 
gone by our place. They'll be there soon."

A minute later another voice said, "The bastards just turned onto 
the road."

Glen pressed the button that would allow him to talk. He said, 
"Okay everyone, get comfortable and stay still. You won't be cold 
much longer. It's show time."

Glen took his own advice and shifted to where he would be more 
comfortable. The change in position was necessary. He could hear 
others shifting around him as a sudden need to piss flooded over 
him. Another crackle followed. Sue, their researcher, said, 
"They've stopped in front of the other house. Someone has gotten 
out and they are checking out the place."

Glen waited for the next update. He had placed people at key 
points along the road to make sure that they didn't end up with 
them coming through the woods behind them. He was glad that he 
had done that now. There were people in the woods around the 
Metchette home. He had been afraid that they would attack there 
thinking that the twins were in the house. To convince them 
otherwise, the door was still open from when he had kicked it in 
the other night.

Another crackle on the radio and then Sue announced, "The man 
went into the house. He didn't find anyone and is on his way back 
to the cars."

Glen smiled, happy that his ploy had worked. Everything was 
going exactly like he had planned. All of the people helping had 
park in the woods in the area he had cleared earlier. Their cars 
would not be visible unless someone went behind the house and 
followed the path there for a good distance. He had put it there for 
that reason and one other. Everyone that volunteered had to drive 
past the spot where Cliff had been staked and burned. It was a very 
visible reminder of the type of people with whom they were 
dealing. He didn't want anyone to feel guilty for their actions 
tonight and a reminder that they were dealing with a pack of 
murderers would help assure that.. He hoped that no one would 
feel bad for anything they did tonight.

The ear-piece crackled again. Oliver said, "They've stopped in 
front of the drive and are getting out. They are all armed."

Glen didn't say anything and wouldn't say anything until he gave 
the order to fire. In the darkness, he couldn't make out much other 
than a few human figures moving across the field. The moon, a 
little past full was hidden behind clouds. CJ said over the radio, 
"They are at quarter field. Get ready with the lights. Front and left 
only."

He glanced at the hunting stand in the corner of his property where 
CJ, with night vision glasses, watched the religious fanatics move 
towards his house. Her position allowed her to spot anyone trying 
to sneak around the edges of the woods. 

The fanatics moved directly toward the house, spreading out as 
they went. The lights in the house were on and a dummy was 
placed by the window. CJ said over the radio, "They are at 
midfield. Trio, your target is in the back. Your call now."

Glen took a deep breath before pressing the talk button. With a 
calmness that he didn't feel, he said, "Lights and Fire at will."

The lights of the house came on illuminating two dozen men 
spread out across the field. Most of the fanatics raised their rifles 
and fired blindly at the house. Glen had expected that. With the 
lights shining in the eyes of the fanatics and his people in the dark, 
they had a great advantage.

Glen looked through the sight of his rifle at Anderson and taking a 
deep breath let half of it out. Holding his breath, he put the 
crosshairs in the center of Anderson's chest and squeezed the 
trigger. He could hear the twins fire together a split second later. 
Anderson flew back at least six feet. The distance covered by 
Anderson when he was hit, suggested to Glen that the twins had 
aimed at him also. His was the first shot from the people in the 
woods, but it was immediately followed by a thunderous roar from 
each side of him. 

He worked the bolt on his gun to put another round in the chamber 
and took aim. He finally had a clear shot at the Reverend Jonathan 
Corwin. Rather than aiming at his chest, he lowered the scope until 
it was aimed at his stomach. He squeezed the trigger and watched 
the Reverend collapse to the ground holding his stomach. The 
Reverend stayed on his knees for a second and then fell forward. 

By now, the majority of the men that had been sneaking toward the 
cabin were on the ground. The others, realizing they were exposed 
and without cover turned to ran back towards their cars. Glen 
watched as they fell to the hail of bullets around them. He fired a 
round at one of the men and watched him drop. He put another 
round in the rifle by working the bolt and aimed at a fourth man. 
The man dropped before he had a chance to fire. He looked around 
for another target, but didn't find one.

A pair of men who had been well behind the rest actually made it 
to the road. Shotguns wielded by Oliver and his uncles sounded. In 
the field, no one was left standing. Without targets, everyone 
stopped shooting. The sudden silence was as deafening as the 
shooting had been.  

Glen remembered that one of the Special Forces guys had told him 
that most fire fights last for less than two minutes. He wondered 
how long this one had lasted. It felt like forever, but he only had 
enough time to get off four shots and had only fired three times. He 
imagined that less than two minutes had passed between the first 
and last shot.

He took a minute to scan the field for movement. There wasn't any. 
Glen stood up and touched the button on his radio. He spoke into 
the microphone, "Okay folks. It's time for most of you to go home. 
The Sheriff will be here in about thirty minutes and there's no need 
for him to know who was here. Follow the ropes back to your cars. 
Let Sue know that you have left. If anyone is hurt or missing, we 
don't want to find out to late to help them. I personally want to 
thank everyone that came tonight."

He could hear calls from along the woods as people shouted, 
"You're welcome."

Wanda and Sandra came over to Glen. They had their arms around 
each other, spiritually supporting one another. Leaning over to 
them, he kissed them both. Worried about their safety, he said, 
"You had better get in the house. CJ will join you there."

They looked towards the house and didn't move. Hugging them 
both, he said, "I love you so much. I just want to know you're 
safe."

They smiled at him and then walked over to the cabin while he 
watched them go. They stayed in the dark and approached the rear 
of the house. The door opened well before they reached the cabin 
as CJ entered it. He watched the field checking for any movement 
and checked their progress to make sure that they reached the door 
safely. The door opened, but he didn't move until they had entered 
the cabin. 

He turned and strode out into the field carrying his rifle at the 
ready. If he spotted any movement, he was going to fire. He was a 
solitary figure moving in the open space and looked small. His 
shadow stretched across the length of the field, a silhouette painted 
on the trees at the far end. He walked with a purposeful stride until 
he reached the first body. He knelt down and checked it for signs 
of life. There were none.

He went from body to body checking each one. He had not 
realized just how bad a bullet from a hunting rifle could tear 
someone up. Of course, almost everyone was using rifles that 
could bring down a charging Bull Moose. He came across 
Anderson's body. Three shots, all of them within an inch of each 
other were centered on the front of his chest. There was nothing 
left of his back where the bullets had exited.

Glen didn't feel remorse for the damage done to Anderson. 
Anderson had seen the evil that the Reverend Jonathan Corwin had 
spread before joining his group. He had seen Wanda battered and 
bruised by that cowardly attack. The fact that he had joined, 
signified to Glen that the man was basically evil. The attack on the 
Sheriff was a cowardly move. He had no pity to spare for a man 
that would utilize a man's medicine as a weapon against him.

Glen continued checking bodies, looking for any that may have 
survived. He found himself checking the same people twice and 
realized that he had been walking in circles. He needed some way 
of marking who he had checked so that he didn't walk over to them 
again.

He stopped his search when he reached the Reverend Jonathan 
Corwin. The man was still moving and groaning. Glen knelt down 
next to him after making sure there wasn't a gun within reach of 
the man. The Reverend Jonathan Corwin, voice weak from his 
injuries, said, "Demon, you've killed a lot of good Christians. I 
know your master in hell is happy."

Glen was quiet for a moment and then said, "We didn't hunt you 
down. We didn't threaten your people. We didn't jump your wives 
and beat the hell out of them. We didn't grab one of your people 
and burn them at the stake. You did all of that and yet you see us 
as evil?"

"You are a Satanist. You killed Christians working for the glory of 
God."

"All injuries your people received were delivered in self defense."

The Reverend was livid. His rage gave his voice strength as he 
said, "My people have fought witchcraft for centuries. My children 
shall continue the work of the Lord and see that you are sent to 
hell."

"Give it up already. The only ones you are sending to hell are your 
followers."

"Never. Evil must be stopped." The Reverend twisted on the 
ground from the pain in his abdomen. 

Glen answered, "Today, good triumphed over evil. I know you 
won't believe that, but it did."

Glen looked up as Oliver strolled over to him. He could tell that 
Oliver had been pushed almost to his limits. There was a tension in 
the way he moved that Glen had never seen in him before now. 
Oliver had gone from car to car along the street checking to make 
sure that no one was in them. They had not seen anyone stay with 
the cars, but he had to check. He had never been so scared in his 
life as when he went from car to car expecting to get shot at any 
second.

Oliver stopped and examined a couple of the bodies as he came 
driven by the fear that one of them would sit up and shoot him. 
Taking his time to reach Glen, he knelt down on the other side of 
Reverend Corwin. Looking at the man on the ground, he asked, 
"Are you the Reverend Jonathan Corwin?"

The Reverend's eyes grew large at the sight of the black man., 
convinced he was the master of lies come to gloat over his victory. 
He shouted, "Satan! Be gone!"

Oliver laughed at the comment with a chilling effect on the 
Reverend. Of course, it only made sense that Satan was a black 
man. The man's lack of imagination was staggering. There was no 
way that Oliver could convince the Reverend that he was a 
devoutly religious man. He had actually stopped by his church on 
the way here to get blessed by the preacher - asking that a prayer 
be said over him to protect him from evil. 

All goodness aside, he couldn't resist the temptation the Reverend 
presented. He looked up to heaven for forgiveness and said, "I 
came here to send your soul to hell. You were a most perfect vessel 
for evil, but failed your mission."

The Reverend screamed in terror as he believed the statement. 
With a weak gesture he pointed to Glen and shouted, "He's the evil 
one."

Resisting the temptation to look at Oliver, Glen said, "May God 
have mercy on your soul. You were corrupted by pride, that most 
insidious of mortal sins, and committed murder in your desire for 
power over your followers." 

The Reverend didn't appear to hear a word Glen stated. His eyes, 
wide with fright, were fixed on Oliver. His forehead broke out in a 
cold sweat, fed by fear. Oliver said, "He's a good man and is 
protected by God. He fought evil this night and won. You are the 
evil one here."

Glen almost laughed aloud at that, but kept control of himself. He 
could see the realization cross the Reverend's face as he considered 
his life. Over the last few minutes he had begun to see the evil that 
he had done in the Lord's name. The terror felt by the Reverend as 
he imagined the hell he was facing was plainly written across his 
face.

Oliver reached out for the Reverend. The Reverend let loose a loud 
scream of terror and died before Oliver had a chance to touch him. 
Checking for a pulse and not finding one, he stood up and said, 
"I'm probably going to go to hell for that, but I just couldn't resist. 
It wasn't right for him to die thinking he was the good guy."

Glen realized that the Reverend had died of fright. He didn't think 
it was possible, even though he had grown up his entire life 
hearing that phrase. He said, "I understand why you might feel 
guilt. However, you also gave him one last chance to repent before 
he died. That was something that his pride wouldn't have allowed 
him to admit unless faced with the devil himself."

"Perhaps you're right. Maybe it was for the good after all."

Glen stood up as the sound of a siren broke the quiet of the night.  
Saddened, he looked around at the scene of death arrayed on his 
beautiful front lawn. He knew that he would never be able to look 
upon it the same way as he had in the past. Aloud, he said, "They 
ruined this place of beauty for me."

Putting a hand on Glen's shoulder, Oliver said, "The seasons shall 
wash the land clean."

Glen looked down at himself and asked, "What can wash my soul 
clean?"

The sight of Glen standing there with filled with self-doubt hurt 
Oliver. He had seen how Glen had tried to protect Cliff and the 
twins. He said, "The only sin that I've seen here tonight was the 
misbegotten pride that those people had. They placed themselves 
above man, law, and country. They thought they were the right-
hand of God. What is that? Pride."

Glen sighed and said, "You're right. Still, I feel dirty."

"That's because you're a good man," replied Oliver. 

Glen led Oliver to the house to wait for the Sheriff. The sirens 
slowly moved closer, but were still quite distant. The Sheriff had 
promised to take his time responding to the call unless he had been 
told that all hell had broken loose. Since the call to the office had 
been a normal sounding emergency call, he took his time.

At the house, the twins, CJ, and, Harvey, the owner of the 
restaurant, were drinking coffee. Everyone's hands were shaking 
slightly as they held the cups. A danger induced Adrenaline rush 
had that effect on the body. Glen looked around the room and then 
examined the women more carefully, seeking any sign of harm. 
Everyone, despite the expected after effects of the excitement, 
looked calm. He didn't trust it. He asked, "Is everyone alright?"

Wanda answered, "No, but…"

"… it's better now…"

"… that we don't have…"

"… to be afraid." Sandra finished the sentence. Glen noticed that 
the more dangerous the situation, the more the twins thought and 
acted alike. Those kinds of situations seemed to make them fuse 
closer together. It would be hours before they stopped completing 
each other's sentences.

He said, "They are all gone. There's no one left to worry about."

The twins answered in one voice, "Thank God."

Glen turned to CJ and asked, "How are you doing?"

CJ frowned as she said, "I hate to say this, but that felt good and 
horrible both. I feel guilty about my actions, but satisfied knowing 
that they've paid for Cliff's death and that I was part of taking them 
down."

Glen put a hand on CJ's shoulder. He said, "What you are feeling is 
completely normal. I don't know what to tell you to make you feel 
better. Perhaps you might want to talk to Helena about what you 
are feeling. You are going to have mixed emotions about this for a 
long time. I still have nightmares about Amos Orvin and what I did 
to him. I've never regretted it, but I have a hard time accepting my 
role in his death at times."

Smiling up at him, grateful at the knowledge that what she was 
feeling was normal, CJ said, "Thanks. That helps."

He went back to the twins and joined them on the couch. The radio 
crackled in his voice as Sue reported, "everyone that came here has 
left. I'm on my way out now. Have a nice one folks."

Glen touched the radio button and said, "You too, Sue. Thanks a 
bunch."

Oliver went to CJ and hugged her. The two of them moved to the 
dining room and sat together at the table holding hands. Watching 
them, Glen was glad that Oliver was here for CJ as she needed 
someone for her and her alone. He knew that she always felt like 
the third wheel when Glen was with the twins. She needed comfort 
right now and the full attention of someone.

Harvey waited patiently out of the way, sipping his coffee from the 
cup held in trembling hands. Glen turned to him and stated, "You 
helped out significantly. I hope that none of their shots came close 
to you."

Harvey sat back in the recliner with eyes wide. He looked around 
for a second and then asked, "They shot at me?"

Glen pointed to the window behind him. "Check out the window."

The man looked at the glass and noticed the bullet holes for the 
first time. Somewhat ashamed of himself, he said, "I'll tell you the 
truth, I was so scared that I huddled up to the wall after I turned on 
the lights. I didn't notice anything until it got quiet."

"You did exactly what you were supposed to do. There wasn't a 
person here that wasn't scared enough to piss in their pants. That 
goes for me too. In fact, when I said that it was show time, I 
suddenly got this urge to go to the bathroom." 

Wanda and Sandra giggled at that. Wanda said, "We thought we 
were the only ones that felt that way."

Sandra shook her head and said, "We had a hard time staying still 
because of our bladders."

Harvey laughed, feeling reassured that he hadn't been the only one 
scared. He said, "Well, it's nice to know that I was in good 
company."

There was a knock on the door. Glen started in surprise but 
realized that it was probably safe since the front of the house was 
lit up with police lights. After checking that everyone was okay, 
Glen carefully opened the door. Dale stepped into the cabin and 
looked around. He said, "Let's see. I count six of you. So you six 
took care of all of those people out there?"

Glen answered, "Well, Harvey stayed in here and turned on the 
lights so that we could see them. He doesn't like guns."

The Sheriff nodded and said, "So the five of you did all that 
damage out there?"

Glen took a look at the others gathered there, and said, "I'll take 
full responsibility."

Dale said, "You know that there are wanted posters on half the 
men out there. You forget that some of them were escaped 
prisoners. Are you taking the credit and hence the reward?"

Glen looked at the Sheriff in surprise, but chose to continue as the 
sole focal point. Looking out the window, he said, "If there were 
such a set of rewards, then I would donate all of that money to the 
town. Perhaps to be used for an extension to the library or new 
uniforms for the high school band."

Dale, recognizing that Glen was willing to take all of the blame, 
motioned for him to come outside. Outside, Dale pointed to the 
front of the house. Glen turned and looked at it. The fanatics had 
been carrying semi-automatic weapons and now the whole front of 
his cabin was riddled with bullet holes. He stared at it in awe and 
said, "Shit! I had no idea."

Dale laughed and said, "You're lucky you didn't try to fight them 
from inside the cabin."

Glen said, "Thick wood walls. Not one bullet made it through. The 
windows are shot up, though."

"Come with me." Dale led Glen back out into the field. There were 
about twenty state troopers walking across the pasture. They were 
marking bodies with little flags as they found them. There were 
bodies spread all over the field. 

Glen almost tripped over one of the bodies and shouted, "There's 
one here."

One of the troopers came over and marked it with a flag. Glen 
looked at the gun lying next to the body and realized that it was a 
semi-automatic. For all he knew, it could have been converted to 
fully automatic. He asked the trooper, "How many guns like that 
have you guys found?"

The trooper looked down at the gun and said, "Everyone of them 
that I've seen was carrying one of those. It looks to me like it has 
been converted for auto fire. They came here meaning business."

Glen nodded as his suspicion that they would come ready to kill 
without compunction was proven correct. He was lucky they had 
found the backup. If it had only been the four of them, they would 
have surely died. The fact that the fanatics were surprised and 
wiped out before they could figure out where Glen and his people 
were hidden had been significant in determining who won and who 
lost. The lights blinding them had worked very much in his favor.

As the trooper went back to looking for bodies in the field, the 
Sheriff stated, "Your plan, whatever it was, worked well."

"I was lucky."

The Sheriff said, "Would you like to know something really 
funny?"

"Sure, I could use a good joke about now," replied Glen as he 
looked across the field.

"The guy wasn't born Jonathon Corwin, he changed his name to 
that about ten years ago. He isn't even related to Jonathon Corwin 
of the witch trials," said the Sheriff. Seeing the look of disbelief on 
Glen's face, he added, "The Reverend was a lousy historian. The 
actual Judge Jonathon Corwin disbelieved most of the charges of 
witchcraft."

Snorting, Glen said, "Our lives would have been a lot better if he 
had been a better historian."

The Sheriff replied, "I doubt it. He would have said that he was a 
descendant of the prosecutor or someone else."

Glen was about to answer when there was a shout from across the 
field. They went over to the excited trooper. He was kneeling over 
someone that was still moving. Glen squatted next to him and 
asked, "Who is he?"

The trooper answered, "He says his name is Kurt Carleton."

Glen looked carefully at the man and said, "He's the baby faced 
guy that attacked Wanda and put her in the hospital."

The Sheriff had noticed the same thing. This guy fit her description 
of the attacker exactly. He asked, "Have you arrested him?"

"Of course. I also read him his rights. You can ask away."

Glen didn't want to ask questions. Instead, he wanted to poke a 
finger in the man's wound and stir it around causing as much pain 
as possible. Restraining himself from his urge, he said, "Tell me 
about the burning."

Kurt spat out, "We burned that demon spawn and sent him back to 
hell like he belonged. We tied him up and doused him with 
gasoline. You should have heard him scream when we lit the fire."

Glen really wanted to his finger in the man's wound. He wished 
that he could cause as much pain as he could. With a snarl, he 
responded, "I heard him scream, you sick fuck."

"I would have danced to watch you burn."

Glen growled as he asked, "So, were you the one that tied him 
up?"

"No, I lit the fire."

Glen lurched forward intending to strangle the guy, but Dale held 
him back. It took him several minutes, but Glen finally calmed 
down. He said, "You're an evil bastard. There's nothing in your 
heart but hate."

"I'm a servant of God. You're the evil one that stood in the way of 
our work! That demon spawn committed heresy. He had to die for 
his sins. The harlots should have died for their sins tonight."

Glen frowned and looked away. This man was clearly sick. He 
asked, "What God do you serve? It clearly isn't the one that told us 
to Forgive Those Who Trespass Against Us, Let He Who Is 
Without Sin Cast The First Stone, and Judge Not Least Ye Be 
Judged."

The man spat, "You twist the words of the Lord so that you can get 
away with sinning. He detests demons like you."

Glen looked at the Sheriff as he said, "I've always wondered if 
truly evil people saw themselves as evil. I can't imagine someone 
good taking such pleasure in the misery of others. Yet, this guy is 
convinced he's not evil."

The man on the ground started raving about how he would have 
loved to watch the twins roast. He would have made Glen watch. 
Not much of what he said was even coherent. The words reminded 
him of Amos Orvin's last threats to Glen. Glen had killed Amos for 
those threats. Glen looked up at the Sheriff and asked, "I assume 
the EMS people will treat him."

Dale nodded and replied, "Of course."

"You should let him die."

Dale said, "You can't mean that."

"You didn't see Cliff burning. You have no idea the horror that was 
frozen on his face from the moment of his death. It sickens me that 
this man appears to have enjoyed that. He needs to die." Glen 
glared at the man on the ground with murder in his eyes.

Dale looked at Glen in horror, wondering if Glen had become such 
a cold hearted killer. He asked, "Why do you say that?"

"It's the only way the twins or I will be safe. He's never going to 
give up on killing us."

In a way, Dale understood the position Glen was taking. He 
wondered how he would feel knowing that someone out there was 
so dedicated to his death. He grabbed Glen and led him back 
towards the house. Just outside the cabin, he stopped and looked at 
Glen noticing the anger on his face. He shouted, "Snap out of it 
Glen. You got them all and he's going nowhere for a long time."

Saddened, Glen looked at the Sheriff and asked, "You think we got 
them all? No, we only got the heads of the family. There are kids 
out there that have been brainwashed to that same kind of thinking. 
Their wives have been beaten into submission and acceptance of 
that twisted world view. They will honestly believe that we are 
demons and should be killed for murdering their husbands and 
fathers. Do you really think we got them all?"

Dale sighed and asked, "Are you saying that you have to kill all of 
their families?"

Glen shook his head as he knew that he could never do anything 
like that. His shoulders slumped like a man defeated. He said, 
"There's no way I can do that. I'm not like them. We're not like 
them. It's just that we can't be stupid. We aren't safe and won't ever 
be safe again."

To say that he was worried about Glen's mental health would have 
been an understatement. He understood Glen's reasoning, but he 
couldn't accept that people would hold a grudge against them like 
that. Then he thought back to the ravings of that madman out in the 
field. He asked, "What were you thinking when Kurt was making 
those threats against you?"

"I was remembering Amos. He and Kurt talked exactly alike. They 
made the same kinds of threats. They were going to kill the twins 
and make me watch. Then I was going to die a horrible death."

Dale was quiet and looked back at the EMS personnel working on 
Kurt. Perhaps Glen was right. Amos had tried three times to kill 
the Metchettes. It was odd that the Metchettes had been targeted so 
many times. In a soft voice, the Sheriff asked, "Why do you think 
the Metchettes have been the targets so many times?"

Glen laughed and looked at the Sheriff as if he had asked if the sky 
was really blue. He said, "You and I are just normal people, with 
our individual passions. We are jaded. We've seen a lot of the 
ugliness of life and it has made us hard inside. The Metchettes saw 
ugliness and responded with fear rather than anger. In spite of 
everything that has happened to them and even after what they've 
done today, they are still innocents. Evil feeds on that."

"You don't think they've lost their innocence?"

Glen looked at the Sheriff and pointed at the twins in the house. 
They could watch them through the window. The twins were 
serving coffee to Harvey, treating him like a guest. He asked, "Do 
those two look like jaded people to you?"

The twins brought out some cake and sat there talking to Harvey, 
finding out more about him and his wife. CJ and Oliver had joined 
them in the living room. Despite the traces of fear and anger 
remaining on most faces, the twin's faces were shining, announcing 
an eagerness for life. Less than an hour after a major gun battle, 
they were already reaching out to other people with genuine 
interest. The Sheriff sighed as he said, "You're right."

Glen said, "The reason these madman threatened me with making 
me watch the Metchettes get tortured was that they wanted to crack 
that thick shell that I've built against the world. They wanted to 
drain the last bit of innocence from me. They wanted to suck that 
residue of marrow from my bones."

"What will you do now?"

Glen sighed and watched the twins move around in the cabin 
playing hostess. He finally answered, "I'm going to continue to 
protect them. They are a gift to the world and must be protected."

"What about you?"

"Me? I'm an old embittered man that has lost too much and seen 
too much evil. My role now in life is as guardian. I'll watch over 
them and make sure that no one harms them. I'll keep my thoughts 
to myself so that I don't hurt them. I'll love them the best that I can. 
In the grand scheme of things, I really don't matter much." Glen 
knew that by the morning, they would be ready to make love to 
him. They would snuggle up to him to enjoy the comfort of his 
arms and the safety he represented. It wasn't a bad future for a man 
like him.

Dale and Glen went to the pickup truck and lowered the tailgate. 
The cold metal chilled their asses when they sat on it. Dale asked, 
"Do you envy them?"

"No, I don't. You can't envy fire for giving off heat and light. You 
can't envy the twins for giving off love and delight of life."