“He just looks so pale and sick,” Vi whispered.

“I know all of this trouble is disturbing, but does he honestly think he can pray it away?” Angie asked.

“I heard he visited the Youngs. Millie offered him some of her fried chicken and he told her he wouldn't’t eat until God set it right, and that was five days ago.”

“No wonder he looks like hell…”

“…and God shall punish the neglectful that turn from His grace. The vengeance of His mighty hand will destroy the nonbelievers.” The pastor slammed his Bible on the pulpit in fury, his eyes wide with a zealous glint. “The scripture tells us we must trust in the Lord and beg for forgiveness on abject knees, especially in these times. His flock must return to Him and ask for His benevolent mercy…”

“Ang, I just don’t know what to make of this. First, the streets flooded when some vandals broke the seal on the water tower. Then, thousands of rats poured into downtown, from who knows where. All of that nonsense just annoyed everyone, but now, with the crops dying and the livestock sick, it’s almost like a curse.”

"I know, Vi. Cam said that the police think someone poisoned the cattle and put something in the fertilizer to burn the crops."

“I urge this entire congregation to join me now in prayer,” the pastor concluded.

Drenched in sweat, despite the mild day, Pastor Marcus knelt at the altar. His black shirt clung to his damp back and his worn pants stuck to the back of his thighs. His chapped lips repeated, “The flock will come back to their shepherd. The flock will return, once they see the light.”

That night, the pastor read his Bible diligently. “They dismissed the signs, all of them,” he murmured to himself. “Now the hand of God will visit Tucker, Ohio, and it will never be the same.” A torn paper lay next to his Bible. In untidy handwriting, he listed the Plagues, five crossed off, and the sixth circled: Flood, fire, famine, rats, disease, and death, with the date the event occurred scrawled next to each. The Bible lay open to Exodus 11:4. A passage, circled numerous times in red ink, leapt from the page. “Moses then said to the King, ‘at midnight the angel of death will go through, and every first born son will die.’

He reread the passage, grabbed the sacramental knife, and slipped out into the darkness.