I reached behind my back, my left hand rested on the revolver that was tucked into my belt. I looked up at the gray morning sky that shown through the leaves of the various trees that made up this small patch of woods on the outskirts of suburbia. Concentrating intensely, I counted silently in my head. I got to four. I reached into my pocket and pulled out four bullets. Then, I unholstered my weapon and popped open the revolving cylinder. Sure enough, four of the chambers were empty. With only a slight shake to my hand, I loaded my weapon to its capacity. Then I walked down to the small stream.

The cold water on my face was reviving and I began to feel more alert. I stripped off my jeans and set them on the ground. I set the revolver down next to them, then waded out to the middle of the stream. The water at midstream was just below my knees and I could feel a slight current pulling at me. As I washed myself, I was aware of my brain working on my problem, trying to find a solution. But solutions were not easy to come by and it didn't take long to realize that I would need the help of someone more powerful.

I stepped out of the stream dripping. A breeze blew through the woods chilling my wet skin, but it also helped me to dry. I pulled my jeans back on and only a few drops of water soaked through the bleached denim. I fastened the button then tucked the revolver back into place. I felt refreshed, it was time to seek assistance.

I knelt down on the packed earth and dead leaves. Closing my eyes, I held my hands up into the air. I was quiet for a few moments. Setting up communication with God was sometimes tricky. I cleared my thoughts and waited to feel his presence. It was always the same, a feather tickling the edge of my consciousness. And then he was there. He rarely said anything, often he just listened. But that was all I really needed. No one else listened.

I began to speak.

Lord, it has been three days since the zealot entered the neighborhood. Lord, we know that you have taught us in your Word that we are to destroy the philistines that inhabit our land and Lord, I have tried to do your will. But I need your help. The zealot is strong. My bullets do nothing more than cause his shields to shimmer. I need your power to overcome this monstrous demon from the pits of hell.

Please Lord, if it be your will, give me the strength to destroy this creature. And know Lord that it is not my will, but your will.

Power and glory to your name.

Amen

"Follow me"

The words from the fourth book of Matthew had an instantaneous effect on me. Just as Peter and Andrew, fishermen of old, had thrown away their nets to do whatever their Lord asked of them, so I was ready to do whatever God asked of me, even if it meant giving my life for him.

I continued to kneel with my hands in the air, silently awaiting further instructions. Five minutes passed and then the soft voice returned.

"I meant that literally dumbass, follow me"

Startled, I opened my eyes. A squirrel stood about ten yards in front of me. It stared expectantly at me for a few moments. Then, chattering wildly, it turned and scampered through the trees.

Without hesitation, I leapt to my feet and ran after the squirrel. But it ran fast and even though I sprinted quickly, I soon lost him. I felt slightly winded and a stinging sensation informed me that a bramble had ripped another opening on my bare chest. I was gasping for air so I stopped to catch my breath. As I stood bent over with my hands on my knees, I could hear the sounds of the stream through the trees. It was a peaceful sound as the water bubbled and splashed over the stones contained within its bed. Then I heard another sound. It was a low, gravelly sound. I listened carefully and realized that the sound was actually an intelligent melody. Subconsciously I began to sing along. "Row, row, row your boat..."

Then sudden realization. That voice! I knew that voice!

I slowly crept through the trees. My hand reached around to my back and pulled the revolver free. The stream came into view and I quickly stepped behind a large oak with a thick trunk. Cautiously I leaned my head out for a look. I noticed that some large rocks had been stacked across the stream, creating a dam that formed a shallow pool. In the middle of the pool, standing in water up to his chest, stood the zealot. The zealot's back was turned to me and I could clearly hear him humming his merry little tune.

I looked up to the sky giving silent thanks to God. Then I moved quickly around the tree. I assumed the firing stance that had been taught to me by my instructor at the firing range and levelled my weapon with the zealot's head. As I did so, I realized that the zealot looked different somehow. The shimmer that usually surrounded the zealot as he moved wasn't there. The water! The zealot's shield couldn't be activated while he was in the water! The excitement of this realization made my hands shake. I knew that I might never have an opportunity like this again. I took a deep breath to calm myself.

The zealot had reached "merrily merrily" in his tune so I chimed in with "row, row, row your boat" making it a round. This calmed my nerves and as the zealot turned to see who had joined him I pulled the trigger.

Of course I couldn't see the bullet, it was moving too fast. But I knew I had missed because there was no visible reaction from the zealot. However, he was now facing me and seeing me standing there, revolver in hand, he growled with dismay. He charged forward faster than I would have imagined possible for a zealot chest deep in water. I realized that once he was out of the water he would be able to activate his shield and then my bullets would no longer have any effect.

I fired off two more rounds quickly. The first one missed, but the second one hit home. The zealot screamed with rage and grasped at his shoulder. He stumbled a bit and I thought he would fall. But he regained his footing and charged at me once more. He was not more than fifteen feet away from me in knee deep water when I fired my last round at him. It hit him squarely in the chest and he gasped. Gripping his chest with both hands, he fell back and hit the water with a giant splash.

With a triumphant howl I charged into the stream and jumped upon him. I looked at his chest and saw that the bullet had made a sizable dent in his armor, but it hadn't penetrated. However, he was still stunned and I was able to roll him face down into the stream. I straddled his back and put my left forearm on the back of his neck while pushing down on his head with my right hand.

The water bubbled and the zealot began to thrash his legs. I held on with every ounce of strength in my body, but the sheer power of the zealot made me realize that I couldn't hold on forever.

"God, give me strength!" I cried aloud.

As I did so, the zealot rolled with the current throwing me off his back. I hit the water with a splash and landed in the stream bed ten feet away. I got to my feet quickly and turned towards the zealot. He was gasping for air and so I charged again putting my shoulder into his chest. I felt the impact throughout my entire body and for a moment, I thought I would bounce off him, much like the bullet had earlier, however, as if in slow motion, he tipped over again and we both landed in the river making another huge splash.

Once again I was on top and this was to my advantage because we were still at a depth where I could hold the zealot beneath the water while I remained above the water.

But the zealot was fully alert now and his arms were not pinned. As he moved nimbly under the water I began to realize just how strong he was. My hands were wrapped around his neck holding his head under the water. He gripped my wrists with his powerful hands and drew them apart with ease. Then he grabbed me around the neck with one hand and placed the other hand on my stomach. He benched me into the air and my life passed before me as I stared into the zealot's unearthly eyes from my precarious perch.

"Lord, save me!" I cried, "a thousand shall fall at thy side and ten thou-"

I didn't get the chance to finish. The zealot grunted, lowered me just a bit so that his elbows bent to 90 degree angles, then heaved.

I flew out of the stream, over dry land, and into the oak tree that I had been hiding behind only moments before. The abrupt stop caused by the tree shook my entire body and for a moment everything went black and a loud ringing filled my ears.

My hearing came first and I was aware of a loud chattering. It was an annoying sound and I opened my eyes. On the other side of the stream a squirrel was chattering loudly and jumping up and down. The zealot reached down and patted the squirrel on the head. He shook his own head and then lifted the squirrel up onto his shoulder. Then in that gravelly voice he said, "crazy humans."

I heard the static sound of the zealot's shield and the blue shimmer returned to his body surrounding himself and his squirrel.

"Don't worry Sammy," the zealot said, "They're not all this crazy."

The chattering continued as the zealot disappeared into the trees on the other side of the stream.

Epilogue:

"Welcome back to Channel 6 News," she said brightly, "The integration of veteran zealots from the Great War into suburban neighborhoods is right on schedule. There have been few problems reported from the seven planets participating in this project. Canaan XII, a planet on the outer rim whose majority consists of Christian Fundamentalists was expected to have the most trouble and we asked the leader of their planetary council about their progress."

The camera's light went out while the council leader's sound bite played. The anchor woman listened carefully while following the script on her screen.

"Some of the more devout believers on this planet have organized protests in some of the bigger cities," the council leader said, "and there are some sporadic reports of attempted violence in the suburbs. But these zealots are a tough breed. They've faced thousands of ravenous zerglings, so I'm sure they should be able to handle a few crazy humans."

He chuckled at his little joke and then continued.

"Overall, I would say that we're quite pleased with the way the zealots are adapting to life in our domestic and peaceful society."

The red light on the camera came back on and the anchor turned to the weather man as directed by her script.

"It sure is nice to see those zealots finding new homes," she said in her best cheery voice.

The weather man smiled broadly and nodded his head emphatically, "Uh huh," he said.

The anchor woman faltered for a moment and then turned back to the camera smiling brightly. "And that's our report for this evening. Thanks for tuning in to channel six, your number one source for news on this planet and the galaxy."

The upbeat music played and then the light on the camera went out.

"We're clear!" yelled the producer.

The anchor woman turned furiously to the weather man. "Uh huh? UH HUH?" she yelled, her face turning bright red.

The weather man blushed furiously, "It was what the script said." He shrugged his shoulders.

She stood up to her full height, and stomped backstage screaming, "I wanna know who wrote this goddam script!"

The weather man looked at the producer and shrugged, "She's crazy."

The producer smiled, "Uh huh."