Okay… So I lied. This won't be the longest chapter in the story. Because I decided to break it up into separate chapters like I did with the chronicles of Anna. Either way, I think most everyone will agree that this was well worth the wait.

Chapter 51: Hero of the Broken

Mary pushed the great oak doors of the church open and slipped inside. "Carter?" She called out as she put her weight against the door to shut back out the wind and rain. The crossbeam normally used to lock the ancient church's entrance was propped up against the frame. Carter obviously couldn't move it in his condition, so but a moment's hesitation, she put it up into place.

"Mary? Is that you?" she heard Carter's voice from one of the front pews. It wasn't easy to hear him over the din of the storm. Inside the stone church, the pounding of the rain and the screaming wind echoed violently in angry protest of the structure. It was far more peaceful outside than in.

Mary walked down the middle of the church to him, her footsteps quickly muting as she stepped onto the crimson carpet that lay the aisle. "Carter! It's terrible."

"What is it dear?"

His head appeared over the back of the front row pew bench, propping himself up better to see her. Mary walked around the front and he collapsed back down into a laying position. Wrapped up into a blanket, and rubbing his eyes, it was obvious to Mary that she had just awakened him, though how he was managing to sleep during this storm was beyond her.

"Jack," she paused, "He killed everyone. He killed my mom." Mary cried.

Carter reached up and pulled Mary close to him, letting her cry on his shoulder. "Are you sure Mary, how did you find out?"

Her voice was oddly slow and calm, despite her wracking sobs, "I watched him leave Lillia's house, where my mother was being held under arrest." She coughed and continued. "His scythe, was covered in blood. His clothes were soaked too."

Carter mind was racing, "Does he know you saw him?" He wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of one hand.

Mary kept talking in the same robotic fashion, "Yes, we stood and stared at one another. And then I ran. Ran. Ran fast. Anywhere. And found myself here."

Carter struggled to follow all this. That would mean Jack was on his way here now. He'd try to kill them. They had to leave now.

"Mary, please listen to me." He stroked her head more firmly, trying to reassure her and get her back thinking coherently as fast as he could. "Jack, he probably followed you. We have to go, now. Jack is stronger than us. We can't overpower him. He will kill us if he finds us here."

"I don't care..."

"What?"

"I love him..."

It took all of Carter's priestly patience not to slap Mary hard. She needed to wake up now, and start thinking straight.

There came a loud banging on the church doors.

Carter knew their time was running out. "Mary, that's Jack. Please, you need to snap out of it. Bring me my wheelchair, hurry!" He pointed Mary frantically in the direction of his wheelchair.

There was a dazed look in Mary's eyes, "That's Jack at the door, isn't it?"

Carter screamed out in frustration. "Listen to me! Listen to me now. Bring me my wheelchair."

"That's Jack. My husband. Who killed my mom. He's here for me now."

Thunder crashed loudly above them, and the banging at the door stopped.

Carter pulled himself off of the bench. He couldn't get through to her. Mary had lost it. Scraping his elbows painfully against the cold stone floor, he dragged himself forward to his wheelchair and pulled himself up into it. "Mary, I'm not going to leave you."

"Jack won't leave me. We'll be together forever."

Carter wrenched his wheelchair forward angrily. "Remember," he told to himself, "she's not herself. Getting angry at her won't solve anything. If I can't get through to her, I'll just have to do something else."

He positioned his wheelchair behind where she was standing, staring at nothing. He reached up and tapped her lower back. "Sit down," he commanded. Without thinking, Mary obliged, sitting down onto his lap. Carter groaned. Mary was a lot heavier than she was when she used to sit on his lap as a child.

"Alright Mary, hold on. We are just going for a little ride," he slowly backed away from the pews, being careful not to tip over with his top-heavy load. "Harvest Goddess, I pray to you, let us get out of this safely."

Agonizingly slow, Carter wheeled them towards the back door of the church. Mary was not making this very easy, "Dear Harvest Goddess, what has this child been eating? Bricks?" At the very least, he was very grateful when his wheels didn't get caught in the aisle's rug.

He tried, unsuccessfully, to reach to doorknob on the back door around Mary. With a sigh, he ordered her mumbling form, "Turn the doorknob!"

Mary obliged, her thoughts and her quiet words refusing to leave Jack. Carter back spun his wheelchair, pulling the door open into the church.

A great flash of lightning silhouetted the form standing just outside the doorway. With a voice filled with pure elation and unequivocal fear, Mary cried as she reached with outstretched arms towards her most beloved and most hated husband, "Jack!"