Word of the day: Church
Tanner had more presence of mind than Marty, who had fallen into full panic mode. He ran out the front door, collapsed in the yard, and felt the rush of oxygen back into his lungs. Tanner coughed and gasped while Marty kneeled next to him. Marty placed a trembling hand on Tanner’s back and kept it there until breathing was relatively normal.
“What the hell happened?” Marty’s voice quivered and barely rose above a desperate whistle.
Tanner rested on his knees and gathered his wits.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with that chair, but it’s evil. You need to get rid of it.” He stood and faced the house. “Any chance you could go in and get my gear? I don’t wanna go back in there.”
“My wife loves that chair,” Marty said.
“Whoever or whatever is possessing that chair didn’t not want me messing with it.” Tanner took a deep cleansing breath that seem to be what he needed to have normal breathing restored. “Seriously, if you’ll set my stuff on the porch, I can load it.”
“What do I do? I’m afraid of that damn thing. And my wife isn’t buying into any of this.”
Marty followed as Tanner walked to his van and retrieved a business card from the console. He handed the card to Marty. It was plain with only a name and a place printed on it:
Buck Prince, Pastor
The Way Church
“What is this?” Marty asked.
“A guy I know. Call him.”