Twenty-FourAll eyes turned. But the theater stage was empty.
One by one the realization came that the crash had come from further away in the wing. A dozen alarmed glances darted between those in the small group of frightened humans, not counting the facial contortions of Reverend Snow (in his own world), but nobody moved. Then Paul gulped and said, “I'll check it.” He reaffirmed his grip on Arthur's rifle and told Vance, “You better stay up front,” and started for the stage. As he passed Angela, Paul wasted his time telling her, “Stay here.”
“I've had all of that I can stand,” she replied shaking her head. “If you're going, I'm going. End of discussion.” Paul frowned but said nothing. Angela joined him.
One step at a time they made their way to the stage, on pins and needles, rifle bef
