Creed (9 page)

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Joseph finally replied. “I didn’t do it, and I want out of this town as much as you. Probably more.”

I exchanged glances with Mike, wondering if he’d buy Joseph’s explanation. I doubted he would.

“There’s no way we’re following you into some shed,” Luke said. “There is not a single person in this town, you destroyed our car, and don’t even get me started on the weird shit we found in your house.”

Rather than answer, Joseph tilted his head to the right, as if seeking out a sound that no one but him could hear. The stalks on our left swayed. Luke saw it too and we both swung our heads around, hoping to God we weren’t surrounded.

In front of us was the town and God-knows-who. Behind us was the messed-up house I had no intention of ever setting foot in again. Whoever was parting those stalks to our left was also rapidly approaching from the right. And Joseph stood dead in front of us. None of our options looked good, and we didn’t have the time for a debate. Whatever was coming out of those fields would be on top of us in seconds.

“Where’s the shed?” I blurted out. I didn’t want to go there any more than Luke did, but right then it seemed like the safest place to be.

“There.” Joseph pointed, already running toward it. The small rectangular structure was half a field away; half a field for whatever was stalking us to speed up and catch us out in the open.

TWELVE

Since it consisted of little more than a roof over what app-eared to be a gigantic motor and a mess of pipes, I couldn’t imagine this was the shed Joseph was referring to. A few posts held the A-frame roof above the tangle of run-down equipment. With only one wall at the back, it looked more like a stall than anything else. I didn’t see any space for a body to fit, never mind four.

Luke stood at the edge of the massive motor, his lips pressed into a thin, tight line. “What is that?”

I peered around him, inhaling sharply as a second shed came into view. The water pump and irrigation equipment had completely eclipsed my view of the even-smaller structure behind it.

This shed was about half the size of the shoebox dorm room Luke complained about having to live in next year. And with no idea who or what was waiting on the inside, I seriously considered taking my chances with whatever was out there in those fields.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I heard the panic in my own voice and glanced behind me, searching the fields for a sign that whatever had been lurking there was gone. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to go in there.”

Luke advanced on Joseph, his eyes filled with a protective anger. “I’m going to trust you because right now I don’t have any other choice. But if you hurt her, if you so much as look at her funny, I’ll kill you with my bare hands. You got that?”

“And I’m more than happy to help him,” Mike added.

Joseph yanked back the heavy wooden door, his voice shaking, his hands trembling as he spoke. “I’m not looking for a fight. I just want to get inside the shed.”

I stood completely immobile, staring at those hands. Big and calloused, they looked like they’d never seen a drop of lotion. The fingernails were short but jagged, and a variety of scars—some fresh, some healed over—blanketed his skin.

“What’s in that shed that’s so important to you?” I asked.

“Safety.” Joseph paused before taking his first tentative step inside. He disappeared into the darkness and I leaned forward, straining to see or hear something … anything.

I heard the strike of a match seconds before I saw the flash of light, and my nose burned with the unmistakable smell of sulfur. Joseph’s shape came into view, the light intensifying as he placed the glass globe onto the lantern and adjusted the wick. In that brief, unguarded second, I saw the defeat weighing him down. I didn’t know if he was nuts or brave or stupid, but the one thing I could tell was that he was desperate.

“Nobody will come in here. We’re safe,” Joseph said, coaxing us in. “But if it makes you feel better, there’s a board over there in the corner you can wedge underneath the handle.”

Mike eyed the board but made no move to retrieve it. I knew what he was thinking. That piece of wood could trap us in as easily as it could keep somebody out. I was with him; I wanted a quick escape should things go wrong.

Luke grabbed my hand and inched us backward out of Joseph’s reach. “Hey,” he whispered as he tried to gentle the death-grip I had on his hand. “Don’t worry. Like Mike said, there are three of us and one of him.”

“Sure,” I mumbled. Spending an entire night in a stranger’s house was messed up enough. Expecting me to walk into a dimly lit room with a kid we knew nothing about was too much.

“Is there any other light?” I asked.

“Nope, this is all I could get my hands on,” Joseph said as he turned a knob on the base of the lantern, sending the flame flaring a bit higher. I could see the entire shed now. Mike was standing guard by the door, Joseph was sitting on the floor in the corner, and Luke was plastered to my side.

“We just left a neighborhood full of empty houses. Why didn’t you grab a flashlight or another lantern?” Luke asked as he let go of my hand and took up a spot on the floor opposite Joseph.

“There’s no way I could take anything without being noticed. He catalogs everything.
Everything
.”

My mind flashed back to last night. Had we eaten anything? Taken anything by accident? Left anything behind? I’d done the dishes, and I was quite sure we’d left the six copies of that disgusting book somewhere in that living room, along with our tire iron and flashlight.
Crap.

Instinctively, I put my hand down and brushed the floor before sitting. Except for a thin layer of dirt and a few nails poking up from the floorboards, it was bare. There were no windows, no sources of light other than the lantern, and, from what I could see, the shed was completely empty—no tools, no equipment, not even a freaking chair to sit on.

For as small and empty as this shed was, it felt huge, each corner vibrating with a terrifying energy. “Why aren’t there any tools in here?”

“Because it’s not really a shed,” Joseph replied.

“Then what the hell is it?” Luke asked as he picked up the lantern and raised it over his head. “Holy hell, what is that for?”

I looked up, my breath catching in my throat as my own reflection stared down at me. “What’s with all the mirrors?”

I gestured for Luke to lift the lantern again and inspected the ceiling once more. The mirror ran the entire length of the shed from edge to edge, no seams. Nothing to break the reflection.

“Damn,” Mike said as he stepped away from the door. He looked up, turning a full circle with a stupid smirk on his face. “Done right, this room could have some serious potential.”

Joseph cocked his head, wondering what Mike was talking about. Luke grumbled for him to knock it off, and I kicked him. Mike swore, but he got the message and returned to his post by the door.

“My father calls this place ‘The Livor.’ A place for reflection.” Joseph’s voice changed, went softer as he recited something from memory. “ ‘Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity.’ ”

I stared at him, my mind running through the few Sunday masses the Hoopers had talked me into attending. I didn’t remember that verse. What I did remember was first-year Latin. I hadn’t retained much of that dead language, but I knew for a fact that the term “livor” had absolutely nothing to do with reflection.

“Livor means punishment, not reflection,” I said.

Joseph shrugged, as if he didn’t understand the difference. “That mirror is for penance. To find yourself. This is where you go, where he sends you, when you’re lost.”

“Lost?” I asked, not following what he was saying.

“When you stray from the teachings,” Joseph explained.

“That’s … messed up,” I said.

Luke wrapped his arm around my back as Mike cracked open the door. He peered out briefly before closing it, then turned his attention back to us. “All quiet,” he said.

Joseph straightened up and moved over to where Luke was sitting. “Hold the lantern up again, toward the wall.”

I followed the light’s path. Hundreds of jagged scratches marred the walls, as if a wild animal had been turned loose in this tiny, confined space. I traced one with my index finger, drawing back suddenly as a sharp splinter of wood jabbed me.

“My father has a theory,” Joseph started. “Before you can rebuild a man in God’s image, you must break him down, strip him of his earthly sins so the blood of his soul can run pure. No one ever gets out until they’re broken and reborn. It could take days, but without food or water, nobody lasts long.”

He paused for a minute, his eyes glossing over. I didn’t want to know where he’d gone or what memory he was reliving. With a visible shake, he brought himself back and continued. “There’s no sound, no food, nothing to distract you. Only the image of yourself staring back at you. Eventually, you give in and tell him whatever he wants to hear, become whoever he wants you to be, just to get out.”

Joseph took the lantern form Luke’s hand and lowered it back to the floor. “Nobody ever comes here willingly. Trust me, this is the last place he’d think to look for us.”

I turned my attention back to the ragged scratches, my mind filling with images of tiny kids screaming as they tried to get out. “Those marks are from people, aren’t they? Like someone trying to claw their way out?”

Joseph wrung his hands tightly in front of him. “I’ve spent six full days in here, heard nothing but the irrigation motor, saw nothing my own reflection. Trust me, I came out saying whatever, doing whatever, and believing whatever I was told to.”

Mike leaned into the light of the lantern, his face twisting in disbelief. “Are you for real?” He made eye contact with Luke, then me. “God, don’t tell me you guys are buying any of this crap, because—”

Luke held up his hand, cutting Mike off. “It doesn’t matter what he’s selling, Mike. My only concern is how we’re going to get out of here.”

“Wait,” I said waving both of them off. “You can’t keep kids holed up in here for days. There are laws against that. I mean, I know there are … ” I trailed off, not wanting to admit how I knew.

“According to my father, there’s no law outside of his law … outside of God’s law.”

I clutched my stomach, afraid the nausea that was building was going to force me out of the shed and back into the open. I had to swallow twice to get my next words out. “I don’t understand. If this is some kind of freaky solitary confinement, then why is it all the way out here where the adults can’t see it?”

“It’s safer out here. You know, in case an outsider passes through town. No one would hear or see anything. What happens here in Purity Springs stays here. Plus, the noise of the irrigation pumps drowns out the screams, and—”

“Wait,” Luke interrupted. “People pass through?”

Joseph smiled, amused, it seemed, at the simplicity of Luke’s revelation. “Yup. People stop here for gas all the time. They fill up and grab something to eat or drink, then move on. We need the money to keep the town running, and my father doesn’t mind people passing through, as long as they pay for whatever they buy and keep going.”

“Great,” Mike drawled. “So what makes us so special? We’d be happy to pay for our gas and keep going. I’ll slip him an extra fifty if that would help.”

“He doesn’t want your money, and he won’t let you go. He thinks you’re with me. He thinks you’re the ones who tried to help my mom get out. That you’re helping me now.”

“But we’re not. We weren’t,” I argued.

Joseph shuffled his feet, his eyes trained on the ground. “I know that, but you don’t get it. Like I said, the only truth that matters in Purity Springs is his.”

THIRTEEN

I finally grasped what this tiny, dark room actually was: a twisted way of sending a naughty child into the corner, complete with locks and sensory deprivation. What I didn’t get was why Joseph hadn’t left this place years ago.

“Why are you still here? You said you were hiding from him, and that your mom was trying to get out. Why haven’t you run away?”

“It’s not that easy. I grew up here. It’s who I am,” he answered.

I wasn’t buying that. It took me twelve years to get out from under my dad’s control, but I finally did. And I wasn’t planning on stopping with the Hoopers. I was going to put as much distance between myself and my past as I could. I had college to look forward to … a place to start over with Luke.

“We don’t have phones,” he said. “And up until three days ago, I had no idea what was past these fields. In fact, I’d been told—no,
warned
—not to go looking.”

“I’m not following,” I said, and from the look on Luke’s face, he wasn’t either.

“Everybody here can trace their roots back to one of ten original families. Nobody new moves in, and nobody born here ever leaves. That’s how we keep our town pure, free of the evil that lives beyond.”

“Ah, sorry, don’t mean to interrupt your history lesson,” Mike cut in. “But help me out here, because I’m a little hung up on that whole ‘lives beyond’ comment.
We
are what lives beyond. Us and about five billion other people who don’t give a rat’s ass about your little town.”