And so they did. Elliot sat between two women, with a young boy in front of him and next to Evajean, and watched as all of Nahom’s citizens bowed their heads and, except for the ones holding the torches and candles, clasped their hands, and he waited as the tense feeling in his stomach returned far worse then before. Uncle Jeffry was up to something–all these people were up to something–and Elliot didn’t know what it was but he had the undeniable feeling that it was bad and that he and Evajean should have run when they’d had the chance.

The people prayed, whispering to themselves. Elliot realized with growing concern that the language they were speaking wasn’t English and he knew–terror mounting even more–that it was the same language the people in the cave had been speaking, the same language as the crazies. Not babbling, not gibbering, but a language foreign to his experience until just a day ago. He turned to Evajean and could see she’d noticed it too. He reached out and pulled her to him and she huddled against his chest as the chanting grew louder.

“What is that?” Evajean said, her mouth turned up to his ear.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s–”

“It’s the crazies’ talk,” she said. “It’s not safe. Elliot, we need–”

And then the chanting stopped. They watched as Uncle Jeffry, kneeling in the center of the cave, slowly pushed himself from the ground and stood up. His eyes were closed, pressed so tight that the skin of his face wrinkled, like a child squinting dramatically in the sun. He stumbled two steps forward then caught himself and forced his body fully erect. The people around Elliot sighed, a long release of breath, and then Uncle Jeffry raised his arms and in each hand he held one of the odd stones like Elliot had seen the treasure hunters put in the hat.

Up until this point, Elliot had been on board with the theory that the plague was a virus of some kind that infected people, broke down their mental state, and drove them mad before killing them. That’s what the news had said–and the scientists and physicians the reporters interviewed reiterated the message. The plague was natural. And of course it was because what else could it be?

But now, as he watched what happened next, he had to set that theory aside entirely. The events of the last several months, circumstances that had destroyed his life has he’d known it, taken his wife and child, and then thrust him into this bizarre adventure with the lady who lived across the street, had fit the theory. This, however, what Uncle Jeffry was doing–or what was being done to him, Elliot didn’t know which–couldn’t be fit in to what he’d been told and what he’d thought. For a moment, he thought he was just going mad, that this was the end of his sanity. But then he saw that Evajean was watching it too and he knew, suddenly and terribly, that the world was a very different place than he’d ever believed.

The rocks Uncle Jeffry held burst to fiery life. The one on the left, a green stone the size of a baseball, cut through by black and silver veins, pulsed outwards in a clean, white glow, like the fuzzy aura around the full moon. A woman near Elliot gasped and fell over sideways, hands around her throat, kicking out with her feet. The others ignored her, however, totally consumed by what was happening to Jeffry. As the glow from the first rock expanded, the second, yellow and red in tight crystal swirls, arced amber light towards its companion. The beam moved at an impossibly slow pace, sliding along a path over Jeffry’s head until it reached the green stone. As the lights combined, Jeffry screamed, face turned up to the ceiling of the cave. Fat tubers of illumination crawled from the now nearly blinding glow and swarmed around Jeffry like loosed snakes.

Evajean ducked her head against Elliot and he held her close. Jeffry turned his face toward his congregation, pivoting around until he’d inspected them all.. “Pray!” he shouted, his voice fractured by static. “Pray that the righteous will win the day, that the blasphemers are punished by the Lord our God. Pray, I tell you and do not stop until those who would do us harm are are banished from this plane back to the horrible realm from which they come.”

“Return,” the people of Nahom called in unison.

“Pray!” Jeffry went on. “For centuries we have fought their menace, battled against the evil they would do. God has given us this mission through his prophet, Joseph Smith. He has pledged us in the battle against this evil. So I call upon all of you, men, women, and precious children, to pray until we have overcome the horrors that pound at our gates.”

The light had consumed him now, covering his features in a thick blanket of illumination. Elliot pulled Evajean into himself, pressed her cheek against his shirt, and he could hear her calling out without words, overcome by the light and the mad oration of Uncle Jeffry.

“The scriptures speak on the coming of the one mighty and strong,” Jeffry continued. “They tell us that he will lead us to salvation, forging forward on the path the prophet began. We do not know who the mighty and strong is, but I say to all of you that he has returned in this, the worst of times, and he will give us the power needed to overcome the evil that has overcome this wretched world. We need only hold out long enough to recognize him. We need only have faith in the words of the prophet, Joseph Smith, and we shall defeat the plague the devil has brought down upon us.” He raised his arms up, his hands flat, holding the two stones, and the light spiked. Elliot had to turn his face away. “These are the end times, my children. And we shall prevail!”