The creature was vast, its eyes ablaze. Great teeth snapped in the air, and claws like the blades of a combine harvester whipped back and forth inches from Zeke’s face. “Back, demon!” he cried, whipping the discreet ministerial cross he wore out from the neck of his shirt, breaking the chain so he could hold it out at arm’s length. “Back, foul shade! Return to the depths of hell from whence thou issued forth, and trouble no more the realms of the living. Begone!”
The terrible face exploded like a ripe puffball mushroom. Gideon, crouched in a heap with Lee, Jack and Anna, ducked as the shockwave hit, bizarrely accompanied by a chuckle. “Bloody hell, Zeke! What was that?”
Ezekiel swung around in triumph. “I don’t know,” he declared, “but don’t be afraid, any of you. It’s gone now.”
Gideon stared at him in amazement. “You’ve been bloody dying to say all that, haven’t you?”
Zeke smiled. He blew gently on the cross, polished it on his sleeve, and tucked it away into the breast pocket of his shirt. He strode over to Lee and his brother, holding out his hands to help them up. “As a matter of fact, I have.”