Not a single face turned to look as the blaze swelled. They were intent on the interlopers. Their prey.

Reverend Atkins wept plaintively as his house burned to the ground.

"I'm real sorry, Marty," Sinjin said, rising the steps.

Martin jerked away as Sinjin reached for his arm. Marcus grabbed Sheila by the shoulders. She struggled. He was stronger, held her firmly in place.

She chopped his forearms—a move she learned in a self-defense class—and simultaneously brought a knee up into his groin.

Marcus doubled over, grasping his balls, the breath knocked out of him.

Sheila ran, dashing down the stairs and darting across the lawn, away from the maddened crowd.

"You bitch!" Marcus groaned.

Martin hauled back and punched Sinjin in the jaw. The blow felt weak even before it connected, like punching someone in a dream.

The big man shook his head, clenched his teeth and struck Martin in the temple so hard stars filled his vision. He staggered back against the door, struggling to remain conscious.

"Why are you helping them?" he said when his vision cleared. "They killed your daughter!"

Sinjin rubbed his fist. "This is the best little island in the world, Marty. And we mean to keep it that way, whatever it takes."

Out on the lawn, Double-D and a man from the crowd had cornered Sheila. She scurried back and forth between them like a pinball in a machine, but she was outnumbered and outmatched and it looked like she knew it.

"Stop this nonsense!"

Everyone froze, turning toward the rectory lawn. The reverend stood shakily. His nightgown was soiled where his knees had ground into the damp lawn. Mavis watched him with a sly grin.

The sirens stopped suddenly, as if responding to his plea. A queer hush fell over the crowd.

"Can't you see what we've become? What would God think of us if He looked down upon our community now? My children, this is insanity!"

For a moment the words seemed to connect. People in the crowd blinked and looked around at each other as if waking from a dream.

Then a man shouted, "We're not your children!" Several people agreed to this, their heads bobbing up and down. "We belong to the Mother!"

"That's right," Mavis said, smiling beatifically. "And Mother says it's time for Martin and his whore to leave this place, whether they like it or not. It may once have been his home, but he no longer belongs here."

"Then let us go!" Sheila cried, caught between Darla and her husband in matching plaid pajamas. "We tried to leave, but you won't let us. First the ferry crash, then the boat rental and now this. We just want to go home!"

"The woman fibs!" Ethel said. "All she does is talk and talk, running that smart mouth of hers. If not for her meddling, the little St. John girl would be alive today."

"That's bullshit and you know it! That girl was alive. I heard her cry!"