/* /*]] */ Axler, James - Deathlands 32 - Circle Thrice Krysty tugged gently .

 

The bell tolled immediately, its booming note echoing across the morning's stillness.

 

"Leave it," Ryan snapped. "Want to rouse the whole bastard country against us?"

 

He noticed something lying on top of the altar. It was a multi-thonged whip, with tiny metal barbs knotted into each lash. All of them were stiff and stained black with what looked like old, dried blood. A sense of threatening danger became much stronger.

 

"Come on," he called. "Something's not right about this place. It's not a proper church. Let's get out before someone comes and brings trouble."

 

Neither of them heard the door whisper open, but they both recognized the audible click of the twin hammers being drawn back on a scattergun.

 

"Welcome, pilgrims," said a rich, jolly voice.