Obsession (15 page)

Miriam lifted her chin. “We’ll see about that. Open the door.”

Wide-eyed, Sister Anne pulled back the deadbolts with shaking hands and followed Miriam into the dimly lit chamber. A din of high-pitched voices assaulted her ears. Enough was enough. She gripped the Disciplinarian until her hand hurt. She had to get control. Right now. She kicked the door shut. “Shut up.”

Sister Anne translated in Spanish, her voice a pale imitation of Miriam’s.

The jabbering ceased, and the unruly youngsters tightened their cluster. Twelve pairs of wary brown eyes stared at Miriam. She scrutinized the room for the useless eunuch.

“Where’s Brother John?”

A muffled voice moaned, “Over here.”

Brother John dragged himself out from under a bed. Bloody scratch marks stood out on his pallid skin, and the beginning of bruises mingled with his blue tattoo.

“It was horrible. They attacked me
en masse
. I had to hide.” He rolled his eyes and shuddered. “They were going to
kill
me.”

“Grow a spine. The Lord helps them who help themselves. Watch and learn.”

Miriam scanned the group of girls for the root of evil and spotted her in the back of the crowd.

“Mina.” She locked gazes with the girl and crooked her finger. “Come here.”

Mina lifted chin and shook her head.

Miriam wasn’t without compassion. She’d been young and foolish once, too. She’d give Mina the chance to repent. She waved her over and repeated the command.

Mina flipped her the bird.

Miriam gasped, and her pulse kicked up a notch. “Where did she learn that disgusting gesture?”

Sister Anne mumbled something about movies and tourists.

“It was a
rhetorical
question, you idiot.” Her last thread of patience snapped, and Miriam’s pulse thundered in her ears.

Mina would pay a heavy price for her defiance. Dressed in white flannel nightgowns, the girls parted like foam on the Red Sea when she pushed her way through them. She dug her fingers into the soft part of Mina’s upper arm and laughed at the look of surprise on the brat’s face.

“I’m a lot stronger than I look.” She dragged the whimpering adolescent to the door and pushed her face into the wood.

“This is for your insolence.” Air whistled through the holes of the wooden paddle, and the girl shrieked when the Disciplinarian struck the back of her thighs. “Do I have your attention now?” Miriam slammed the paddle down a second time, this time on the young woman’s round rump.

Mina screamed and cried out in Spanish.

Sister Anne shouted, “She’s begging for mercy, please stop.”

“Mercy? All she had to do was come forward when I gave her the opportunity. She chose the hard way. She’s going to learn who’s in charge here.”

The air whistled, and the crack of the Disciplinarian rang out again and again. The girls behind her wailed. She slammed Mina’s back with a staccato series of strikes until, at last, the little bitch slid to the floor in a sobbing heap.

Miriam turned and faced the weeping horde. “Anyone else want to cause trouble?”

Sister Anne translated through sobs, tears streaming down her face.

The teenagers cowered and shook their heads. “Nonononononono.”

She waved the Disciplinarian at the huddled girls. “The next one of you who gives Brother John a hard time will be beaten even harder than Mina.”

Sister Anne could barely get the words out.

Good. Now maybe she’d get some respect.

“Sister Anne, bring me that little one in front.”

The other woman stepped over to the group of shuddering, whimpering girls and led a wide-eyed teenager over to Miriam. “What’s her name?”

“Chita.”

“Lovely name for a girl.” Miriam took her small brown hand into her large work worn one. “Come Chita, it’s time for you to meet Father.”

****

Zeke Edmonds slid into the warm water, rested his head back on the edge of the clawed bathtub, and closed his weary eyes. If only he could rest, maybe the visions and visitations from the Lord would be less frequent. Once he’d welcomed his spells, embraced his visions. But that was before they’d taken over more and more of his life. He loved the Lord, but—

The smell of sulphur filled his nostrils..

Oh, no. Not again.
He pressed his fingers to his temple, closed his eyes, and took a few deep cleansing breaths. The odor disappeared.
Was it possible? Had he staved off another attack?

The red fog filled his vision and his ears buzzed with white noise. At last the Lord spoke unto Zeke as clearly as if He stood next to him, his voice a roar of rage.

“Why have you not done as I’ve commanded? Where are the Mothers of the Twenty-Four? Why haven’t you begun spreading your seed as I commanded?”

“I have limits to my abilities. I need to rest.”

“You will rest when I tell you to rest. End times are coming soon and you haven’t prepared the way for the progeny who will follow the Chosen One. I am displeased. If you fail to follow my commands, another will rise up among your congregation and take your place.”

“Who, Lord? Who is this traitor?”

“Do as you’re told and all will be well. Fail me and you will lose everything you’ve worked for.”

Just as quickly as the Lord had descended, he was gone. Zeke looked around the room, half-afraid the traitor would be standing at the side of the tub with a gun in his hand. He’d been warned. He gripped the side of the tub, dragged his bone-tired body to the bedroom, and collapsed on his bed.

****

“Father? Are you not well? Father?”

Zeke blinked his eyes and looked up into Miriam’s worried face. “What?”

“I’ve been trying to wake you for five minutes.” Her brow furrowed. “Should I send for the doctor?”

“I had another vision. The Lord was displeased. If I don’t start on Progeny soon, He said he’d—”

“What?”

“Replace me.”

Miriam stumbled back as if struck. “Replace you? That’s impossible. You’re the Prophet, the Leader.”

“There is someone among us who would rise up and take my place.”

His wife’s eyes and lips narrowed. “A Judas in our midst.”

He nodded. “We must be vigilant, Miriam, or the Chosen One will be taken away from us, and we’ll lose all we’ve worked for.”

Fury twisted her face. “He belongs to us. I will
never
let anyone take the child away from me.”

“Oh, woman of valor, I’m so blessed to have you at my side.”

Tears filled her blue eyes. “No one will ever love you the way I do. I would do anything for you.” Her voice grew gutteral. “I’d kill to protect you and the Chosen One.”

Zeke recalled the time when she’d come upon him and Janice. She’d screamed at the girl to get off her husband. Shovel in hand, Miriam’s vengeance had been swift, and she’d shown no mercy. He’d been terrified she’d kill him next. Instead, she pulled him to his feet and hugged him. They’d buried the body together.

“I know, Miriam. I know.”

She brushed a tear off her cheek and gave him a wobbly smile. “I have a surprise for you. I’ve selected one of the Mothers of the Twenty-Four for your bed tonight.” She began to turn.

“Wait.” He called her back. “Where is she now?”

“I left her playing with the Chosen One so she could see the importance of her role in the world to come. I think you’ll be very happy with her. Now close your eyes.” She left the room.

“Are you ready, Father?”

He grinned. “Very ready.”

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

A troll with a wart-covered nose, huge yellow teeth, one bulging black eye, and three pairs of tits stood before him, reeking of dead fish. He gagged and leaped up on the bed. “Woman, what kind of trickery is this?”

Miriam frowned and glanced at the cyclopean troll, then back at him. “I thought you’d like this young woman.”

He backed into the bed frame and grasped the wooden pole. “Can’t you see? It’s a monster.”

“Father, you’re upsetting her.”

He shouted, “Stupid woman, get that—that
thing
out of here, now.”

“Calm down.”

Zeke jumped down to the floor and circled the monster, keeping an arm’s length away from it and his wife.

“Miriam,” he called. “Where did you find this hobgoblin?”

“What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

The Lord warned him. Told him “another would rise.” A plot to discredit him. That’s what it was. First Ellen. Then
Chita
. The only logical explanation was someone was drugging him. But with what? LSD? No.
Peyote. Aaron had told him some of the natives used it in their religious rituals.

Aaron.
The ever present, hard-working man at his side. The engineer who planned and built all of Edmondsville. It
had
to be Aaron. Was he collecting evidence against Zeke to discredit him? A hidden camera. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Where was it? He ran his fingers across the rough walls, searching for holes, nooks, crannies, anyplace a tiny lens could rest. Nothing.

“What’s going on?”

Somewhere in this room a technological termite was eating its way through the foundation of his life. He looked up and saw a hole in the ceiling. That had to be it. He pointed upward.

“They’re watching us.”

Miriam pushed the troll out of the room. “What are you talking about?”

He whispered in her ear. “The Lord warned me, told me we had a traitor in our midst. Someone is putting peyote in my water.”

Her eyes widened, and she sucked her breath through her teeth.

“I think it’s Aaron.”

“Judas.”

He led her out of the room, into the dimly lit hallway. “Trust no one.”

Miriam’s gaze searched his face. “What should I do now?”

“Take the girl back to the Crèche.”

His wife nodded. “Yes, Father.”

She entered the baby’s room and emerged holding a lovely young woman’s hand. Aaron would pay for his treachery. But first Zeke had to expose him to all of Edmondsville as a traitor.

Chapter Eleven

Angie shaded her eyes against the red glare of the late afternoon sun, chambered a round in the 300 Win mag, raised the Remington 700, and adjusted the butt on her shoulder. She was happy to see that it had a muzzlebreak to lessen the recoil.
Big bullet. Big kick.
It would not be fun. She peered through the scope and focused on the line of beer cans in the distance. Finger resting alongside the trigger guard, she sighted the weapon, readjusted her position, and felt the tickle of Tio’s breath on the back of her neck. Someone had garlic for lunch. And
something
was bumping against her butt and it
wasn’t
a banana.
Blech.
Enough of this crap. She stepped back and stomped on his foot.

The big man yelped in surprise.

“I’m
so
sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know your foot was there.”
And that his hands were hovering over her hips. And that his groin was bumping up against her ass. Horny bastard.

He licked his lips. “Sure you don’t want help, you know, setting up your stance?”

So subtle. He’d been drooling over her ever since she’d climbed onto the ATV
.
The moron really shouldn’t mess with a woman holding a weapon, much less a high powered rifle that could hit a target at a thousand yards. Bullets trumped muscle every time.

“Tio, did I ever tell you I grew up on a chicken farm on the eastern shore of Maryland? Smack dab in the middle of God and gun country. My father began my shooting lessons when I was five. Used eggs for target practice. I could barely lift the rifle. He forced me to lay down in the chicken shit and learn how to hit a dozen eggs in a row. My job was to keep guard over the chickens, watch out for foxes. Said it was good training.” She glanced up at her overeager instructor. “Little did he know I’d be using it to plan his demise twenty-six years later.”

Tio shook his bald head and took three steps back. “Man, that’s screwed up.”

She laughed. “Not as screwed up as he is, I assure you.” Good. Now maybe he’d leave her alone. Angie bent her head back to the task. Beer can in the scope.
Check.
Feet shoulder width apart.
Check.
Deep breath.
Check.
Gentle squeeze of the trigger.
Check.
Beer can transformed into shrapnel.
Priceless.

“Holy shit, woman,” Tio whooped. “You can back me up anytime. Wait till I tell Pepe. He won’t believe it.”

She lowered the weapon and grinned. “Your turn.”

He shook his head and guffawed. “No way. I’m just gonna look bad after you.”

“Handguns, then?” She slid the pistol out of its carrying case and snapped the magazine filled with .40 caliber Winchesters into the butt of the semiautomatic. She admired the simplicity and dependability of the high capacity Glock. “Well, hello there, gorgeous gun of my dreams. Where have you been all my life?”

Tio cocked his head to one side. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d be worried you were an undercover
federale
.”

“Ha. As if any undercover agent would get past Isabel and you guys.” She shook her head. “He or she would be dead meat.”

“Well,
chica,
you sure know your way around guns. Never would’ve taken you for a gun lover.”

“Looks can be deceiving. I was raised by a lunatic. My father believes you have to be prepared for End Days. Lawlessness. Chaos. The fall of governments.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Every cult leader’s wet dream.”

Tio blushed. “You’re bad.”

“To the bone.” Angie turned, aimed, and fired the semi-automatic. Beer cans, rocks, and dust flew in every direction. “Whoo-hoo! Got any rocket-launchers? I think I’m ready to take down a fortress.”