“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about the alien theory?” Bruce asked Sarge.
“Yes and no. We’re dealing with something from outer space,” Sarge said. “I may need to fine-tune my idea about green aliens.”
“Why’s that? We haven’t seen any lifeforms appear yet. They still could be green.”
“True, but I can’t imagine little green men in that spaceship. I sense power, real power.”
Wiley found a sofa chair and positioned a cushion behind his back. He looked over at Sarge and Bruce. “I’ve come to see we’re as bigoted as the Christians were. We didn’t like their strong unreasonable beliefs and opinions, and they didn’t like our strong unreasonable beliefs and opinions. At the end of the day, it all came down to what God believes. Many turned their back on God because of their own bigoted beliefs—I think pride was a huge stumbling block. We like doing things our way. We struggle being told what to do. To be obedient. To come off our own thrones.”
“That’s deep, Wiley. You been hanging around Christians too much?” Sarge said.
“I have, but it didn’t make much difference because I’m still here. As you can see.”
Sarge moved around on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. “Why Jesus? Why Christians?”
“That question was the reason I joined the society. The arrogance and intolerance of those in claiming Jesus is the only way to God.” Bruce shook his fist. “I can feel the anger building just thinking about them.”
“I asked the same question, and their arrogance towards others also led me to the society,” Wiley said. “But I’ve been trying to understand lately, as I was surrounded by those who truly believe the Lord is the only way.”
“And …?” Sarge leaned forward with his hands open.
“I think it boils down to whether you see Jesus as a man or as God.” Wiley swallowed and rubbed his throat. “If you see Jesus as God, then that places a different perspective on things. You want to be on his right side. If Jesus was a man, well, you can still do your own thing. God has nothing over you.”
“Good points, Wiley,” Bruce said. “But it’s all just religion, isn’t it? I find all religions the same, anyway.”
Wiley let out a sigh and nodded. “My dad says Christians believe Jesus is God. Other religions believe He was just a good, noble man.”
“Well, can’t those religions ask their god for forgiveness or whatever, like the Christians do?” Bruce asked.
“I’ve asked that question. Jesus says He’s the only way to God. He’s fixing the problem caused by Adam. Other religions don’t have the Adam problem, the sin problem. If you don’t believe you need a saviour, you don’t need Jesus. They can believe in their gods and still sin. I think that’s what society sees … saw. People being religious and continuing to sin, even so-called Christians.” Wiley shrugged.
“Anyway, we’re all atheists. Our creed stated there is no credible scientific or factually reliable evidence for the existence of a god or the supernatural …” Bruce paused. “I’m confused.” He pointed to the sky and shook his head. “They must be aliens.”
Sarge’s tone was edgy. “God or aliens. Not good choices for atheists when there is factual evidence of the supernatural floating above the earth.”
“Anyway …” Bruce was clearly frustrated. “What do we do now?”
“I have no idea what’s coming next.” Wiley took a quick glance towards the back yard. Was that movement out there? Or shadows? “I think we’ve made our choice, and that was to not believe in God. Now we face the consequences.”
“So we decided our opinion was more important than God’s opinion. We told the so-called creator of all things that we know best.” Sarge pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I think the alien option is better.”
“This is all too deep.” Bruce rubbed his chin. “What could I add?”
They waited for some response.
“You know I don’t consider myself a bad person. I mean, I haven’t killed anyone.” Bruce’s eyes watering up. “Society seems generally good.”
“So we’re staying on the God path?” Sarge asked.
“I think it’s more about what goes on behind closed doors—domestic violence, drug use and the like. We were victims and maybe perpetrators,” Wiley said. “We don’t see behind the walls, and I think it’s a lot worse than we realise. The church is full of those who have suffered. Suicide rates off the charts. We know, don’t we? Look at the amber people we encountered and how many of them were from broken families. Look at ourselves. If we’re willing to look, we can see how screwed up society is. And we took advantage of that to feed our own screwiness.”
Bruce looked hard at Wiley. “You’re right, Wiley. You seemed to have changed.” He sniffled. “But it’s a bit late to change our philosophy on life now.”
What had held them back? Why hadn’t he followed the same path as Sheila and his dad? Stubborn ’til the end. He was about to speak but sensed something. A chill in the air. An unusual chill. A different vibe. He looked around. Had someone or something entered their space? A heavy atmosphere pressing down. Sarge and Bruce were looking strange. They’d noticed the heaviness as well.
“What is it?” Sarge asked.
Darkness had encroached. Evil. Dad had warned him about this. Where there is no light, there is darkness. The light had gone. Darkness had come.
Bruce was on his feet, the pistol in his hand. He was crying and put the pistol to the side of his head. Wiley jumped at him, and they crashed onto the deck.
Bang.
Ears ringing, Wiley pushed himself up and looked for the pistol. It had fallen out of Bruce’s hand and was out of reach. Bruce lay on his back, blood trickling near his head. Wiley leaned over to see what damage had been done.
Bruce opened his eyes and gave him a nod. “I’m okay.” He placed his hand on the side of his head and checked it for blood. “Just a graze.”
There was a sharp unpleasant smell. Gunpowder? He covered his nose and looked around to find something to put on the wound. Sarge threw him a small towel. He raised Bruce’s head and placed the towel underneath. It was a deep surface cut.
“What was that all about?” Wiley helped him sit up. The smell no longer overwhelmed him.
“Uh … could I have a drink?” Bruce said. “Uh … uh … I don’t know what that was about. Something took control of me.” The pistol was near his foot. He kicked it away, and it tipped over the deck and fell to the shrubbery below. He rubbed his ear. “Pretty loud, hey?”
Wiley helped him up while holding the towel against his head. “Yep.” His ears were still ringing. Sarge passed him some water. They all looked at each other, atmosphere heavy as the smell retreated into the sea breeze.
Wiley let out a sigh. “We best look out for each other. I think darkness is rolling in like we’ve never seen it before.”
47 - The audience
