Pastor Bryan Sullivan took nearly two minutes getting his keycard to work in the door. It was another in a series of inauspicious events on this trip. For a man of less-Christian superstitions, they could have been considered omens, when taking into account the bizarre assignment that had sent him halfway across the country. But Pastor Bryan saw the creator’s warnings instead. The conclusion was the same: trouble brewing.
He was a man of God, young and full of vigor, but also a low man on the totem pole within the central administration of his denomination. So when so many of its flock in this part of the country began reporting strange things, the higher-ups had to send someone to investigate before issuing any official opinion on the subject. Pastor Bryan represented their due diligence.
As he laid his case on the king-size hotel bed, he couldn’t help but think about how in the movies, the catholic priests were always sent to large suburban homes to look into reports of demonic possession. But Pastor Bryan had to go interview trailer park denizens and far-flung homesteaders about strange lights in the desert.
He sighed and took off his shoes, and began thinking about what he might do for dinner.
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