By the light of the moon

on the weapon became more tenuous.
    Resolving her dilemma, the gunman's tether snapped, or the piton
pulled out of the wall, unable to support both his weight and
hers.
    Falling, he let go of the gun.
    'Jillian!'
    Falling, Jilly folded.
    * * *
    The words astonishment and amazement both describe
the momentary overwhelming of the mind by something beyond
expectation, although astonishment more specifically affects the
emotions, while amazement especially affects the intellect. The
less-used word awe expresses a more intense and profound
– and rare – experience, in which the mind is
overwhelmed by something almost inexpressibly grand in character or
formidable in power.
    Awe-stricken, Dylan watched from atop the west scaffold as Jilly
raced full-tilt along the east-scaffold platform, slammed violently
into the gunman, plunged over the brink, hung from the assault
rifle, and performed a credible audition for a job with the Flying
Wallendas of circus fame.
    'Wow,' said Shepherd as the tether snapped with a sound like the
crack of a giant whip, dropping Jilly and the killer toward the
church floor.
    Penned in by the pews, the squealing wedding guests tried to
scatter and duck.
    Jilly and the gun vanished about four feet short of impact, but
the hapless villain fell all the way. He struck the back of a pew
with his throat, broke his neck, somersaulted into the next row,
and in a tangle of limbs, he crashed to a stop, big-time dead,
between a distinguished gray-haired gentleman in a navy-blue
pinstripe suit and a matronly woman wearing an expensive beige knit
suit and a lovely feathered hat with a wide brim.
    When Jilly appeared at Shep's side, the dead man was already
dead but still flopping and thudding into the final dramatic pose
in which the police photographer would want to immortalize him. She
put down the assault rifle and said, 'I'm pissed.'
    'I could tell,' Dylan said.
    'Wow,' said Shepherd. 'Wow.'
    * * *
    Cries flew up from the wedding guests when the gunman caromed
off the back of one pew into the next row and stayed down dead, his
head askew and one arm akimbo. Then a man in a gray suit spotted
Jilly standing with Dylan and Shep atop the west-wall scaffold, and
pointed her out to the others. In a moment, the entire congregation
stood with heads tipped back, gazing up at her. Evidently because
they were in a state of shock, every one of them had fallen silent,
so the hush in the church grew as deep as the quiet in a tomb.
    When the silence held until it became eerie, Dylan explained to
Jilly: 'They're awe-stricken.'
    Jilly saw a young woman wearing a mantilla in the crowd below.
Perhaps the same woman in the desert vision.
    Before the crowd's shock could wear off and panic set in, Dylan
raised his voice to reassure them. 'Everything's okay. It's over
now. You're safe.' He pointed to the cadaver crumpled among the
pews. 'Two accomplices of that man are up here, out of commission,
but in need of medical attention. Someone should call
nine-one-one.'
    Only two in the crowd moved: The woman in the mantilla went to
the votive rack to light a candle and say a prayer, while a wedding
photographer began shooting pictures of Dylan, Jilly, and Shep.
    Looking down on these hundreds, sixty-seven of whom would have
been shot, forty of whom would have perished, if she and Dylan and
Shep hadn't gotten here in time, Jilly was overcome by emotions so
powerful, so exalting, and simultaneously so humbling, that no
matter how long she lived, she would never forget her feelings at
this incredible moment or be able to describe adequately the
intensity of them.
    From the platform at her feet, she picked up her purse, which
contained what little she still owned in this world: wallet,
compact, lipstick.... She wouldn't have sold these pathetic
possessions at any price, for they were the only tangible proof she
had that she'd once lived an ordinary existence, and they seemed
like talismans by which she might recover that lost life.
    'Shep,' she whispered, her voice tremulous with emotion, 'I
don't trust myself to fold three of us out of here. You'll have to
do it.'
    'Somewhere private,' Dylan warned, 'somewhere lonely.'
    While everyone around her still stood immobile, the bride moved
in the center aisle, weaving among her guests, stopping only when
she arrived directly before Jilly. She was a beautiful woman,
radiant, graceful in a stunning dress that would have been much
talked about at the reception if the guests hadn't had plenty