“And you will not ‘get’ any more of them!” A voice boomed from beside them. An elderly Amish man was shuffling towards them, wearing plain trousers and a light blue shirt. His face was silhouetted by a greying beard and a straw hat. Though he was old and slow, he walked with a dutiful purpose. His face was beset by anger, though his next words made it difficult to tell exactly what he was upset the most about. Torsten or the dead woman on the ground. “Your English ways are not our ways,” he huffed.

Torsten shot a glance at Allison, motioning for her to back away from the dead woman. [i]”Het spijt me,[/i]” He replied in Pennsylvania Dutch. He opened the breach to his rifle, removing the paper cartridge in order to make it inert. Though he did not like it, it was their community. Their rules. Granted, it wasn’t like he was going to let them know that his pistols were loaded. “I was worried they’d come after someone else next,” he tried to explain.

The Amish man held a shaking, wrinkled hand up to his face. He blinked away tears, turning his head away from the corpse. “That is not your place to decide. Vengeance is God’s. Not our’s..” He paused for a moment. A low sigh escaped his lips, “I wish these men had not been here. I wish you had not done this Torsten, but this is as God has commanded. It is our lot to understand it. Stay… stay here. I’ll get women to bring her to the church.”

Neither Allison or Torsten would be able to touch the body. The Finn stepped towards her, cradling the rifle in his arms. “Swartzentruber Amish. That was Samuel Stolfutz. Their elder. They won’t raise a finger to defend themselves or others. Don’t correct them about it, either. They don’t like that. Don’t look at the young men. Don’t try to talk to the women; their husbands won’t like that. … Granted, I think Samuel is the only one who actually likes me.” His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

A small group of women came following behind Samuel. Tears streamed down their faces, as a horse and cart were fetched from one of the barns. The body was loaded upon the cart and brought trundling along to the white church not far off. Samuel wrung his hands nervously, talking to a small group of men who were of his senior, before they walked away shaking heads. More than one angry glance was directed towards the tall Finn.

Samuel finally strolled back towards the two, “It has been a bad morning. Why are you here with this woman, Herr Torsten?”

‘This woman.’ The Finn glanced towards Allison. That wouldn’t go over well. “Power is out everywhere. Cars do not run. Where is.. where is the county deputy?” Torsten asked. A county deputy was usually on patrol around the community. The deputy kept the kids from messing with the Amish – or worse. 

Samuel glowered, “Deputy Moreno was here. His car broke down outside the church. He had breakfast with my family, before he was supposed to go back to his policemen to see what was happening. That’s when those men showed up. They are prisoners, [i]ja?[/i] Deputy Moreno told them to stop. He tried to use his gun. It didn’t work. They killed him. Mary… Mary came out to plead for them to stop.”