“The same. And that is not all.”
“It’s not? By all means, tell me everything.”
“I am the One Mighty and Strong.”
Jacob grew wary. The story, already ludicrous, had taken a dangerous turn.
“You don’t believe me,” she said.
“Of course not. But whether I believe you or not isn’t the problem. It doesn’t take much in Blister Creek for people to line up behind self-proclaimed prophets. Even a woman. Maybe
especially
a woman, the way things have gone around here.”
“I already told you I was a prophetess, when you visited me at Yellow Flats. You weren’t alarmed then. More like amused.”
“Yes, but now you have an angle. The founder of Blister Creek, returned after all this time. And the other claimants are weak, like
me. Or evil, like Taylor Junior. There are plenty of strong, cynical women around—maybe you’ll convince a few of them.”
“You can walk away from Blister Creek at any time,” she said. “You’ve said more than once that you’ll leave as soon as someone better comes along.” A smile played at her lips. “Now is your chance. Take your family and move back to civilization. They’ll still need doctors after the crash.”
“And that’s what you want? You want me to abandon Blister Creek?”
“No, I don’t want you to leave. I want your blessing, that’s all.”
“I can’t give you my blessing,” Jacob said. “I don’t believe you, for a start.”
“Your father did.”
“He did? No, I don’t think so.”
“Why do you think he helped me track down Taylor Junior?” Rebecca asked.
“I have no idea. But he didn’t seem to like you much.”
“Abraham Christianson didn’t like to share power, not even with his favorite granny.”
Jacob grew exasperated. “Come on, really? You’re Rebecca Cowley reincarnated?”
“Not reincarnated,” she said. “Multiple mortal probations. There is a difference. After I lost the struggle with my husband, I withdrew into a shell. I let injustices pass. I grew old and died. The Lord has given me a second chance to make my calling and election sure. Give me your support, Jacob. Be a better man than Hyrum, Joseph, Abraham, and the rest of the men who have led Blister Creek.”
“I don’t know you,” Jacob said. “And I don’t know what you want, except for power. A lot of people want power. Just because you’re a woman and you claim to speak for your fellow women, that doesn’t mean I’m going to give it to you.”
“Then I’ll take it for myself.”
“And how will you do that?”
“You are not your father. You are not your father’s uncle Heber. You are not Hyrum Cowley or Jedediah Kimball. In short, you’re not ruthless enough to stop me.”
“I don’t have to be ruthless. I have other tools.”
“Oh, so you’ll lift your right arm to the square and condemn me? Lie about the spirit, like you always do, while inside you are consumed with doubt? That might work against the weak-willed and the corrupt. It won’t stop me. I know what you are and what you are not.”
“It won’t come to that. You have no followers, and once I talk to Eliza, Miriam, Fernie—tell them what I think—you won’t find any. I may even take your advice about a women’s quorum but leave you out of it, at least until you publicly denounce this ridiculous prophetess business. And if you can’t convince the women to follow you, how do you think you’ll manage with men like Stephen Paul Young or Garrett Johnson? They’ll eat you alive. Next thing you know, you’ll be some octogenarian’s eleventh wife. Is that what you want?”
“Are you threatening me?” Rebecca glared at him. Shadows cast by the lantern danced across her face, making her look dark and brooding. And then, unexpectedly, she let out her breath and the hostility drained from her features. She clutched Grandma
Cowley’s diary to her breast, and then slowly, as if it cost her effort, she handed it back.
“I’ll keep reading,” he said, tucking the diary into his jacket pocket, “but I don’t care what Grandma Cowley thought or what she says. It doesn’t make her—or you—a prophetess.”
“You say that now, but there’s one key piece you’re still missing.”
“How it all plays out with the men?”
“No. You’ve guessed at that already. It ends badly. It’s about the evil spirit. You need to know more if you hope to defeat it.”
“Come on, Rebecca. I told you already. You can’t tell me these outrageous stories and expect me to accept them with no evidence.”
“No, I suppose I can’t.” She sighed. “I come on too strong. I always have, even before. You read the diary. You see how I was, how I couldn’t keep my mouth shut even when I knew it was the wrong time to speak out. That’s why your father and I butted heads too. We were too much alike. Too proud, too certain of our own position. But I am sorry. You’re a good man at heart, the best man to ever lead Blister Creek.”
“I’ll accept that compliment,” Jacob said, “but only because I follow a long line of tyrants and dictators. It’s not hard to be better than that. Truce?” He held out his hand, and she took it. He chose his words carefully. “I was wrong too. I shouldn’t have said that about being some old guy’s eleventh wife. I’d never do that to you. Third wife, no worse.”
Rebecca laughed.
“In all seriousness, so long as I’m in charge, no woman will ever get married against her will, whether she’s the first wife or the fiftieth.”
“Thank you for that. Not that you could have forced me, but I’m glad to hear you say it. So we’re not enemies?”
“Not enemies,” he said. “What now?”
“Don’t close your mind. Can you give me that?”
“Doubt is my default position. So if you want me to believe the Lord has chosen you as a prophetess, make your case. It won’t be easy. And act in good faith. No sneaking around, undermining this community. We can’t afford it. Our position is too precarious.”
“Fair enough.” She nodded. “Okay, in good faith, here’s something you can use to fight Taylor Junior.”
He leaned forward. “I’m listening.”
“There’s another way into Blister Creek. You’ve left it unguarded.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you remember my employee you saw that day in Dark Canyon?”
“The guy with the tank top and the muscles, yeah. Who was he, anyway?”
“A hired gun from Las Vegas, same man who worked for me when your father and I were trying to lure Taylor Junior out to Caleb Kimball’s cult. Abraham and I had been working together for years, but your father was a suspicious man. He wouldn’t give me any resources. Oh, he was happy enough to use me for his dirty work, like when we scared off Senator McKay when the attorney general’s office was harassing you at the hospital.”
“That was you who threatened the senator with a gun?” Jacob said. “My father never said that. What the devil were you—no, never mind. We don’t have time. Go on, I need to hear about this secret way into the valley.”
“It’s a mile, mile and a half east of here. Hundreds or maybe thousands of years ago, part of the escarpment broke loose and collapsed into the valley. It left a steep but passable way for someone to get down on foot.”
“And nobody else has discovered this thing in more than a century? I find that hard to believe.”
“Nobody was looking,” she said. “And it’s not easy to find, in any event. About a year ago, my guy was tracking Aaron Young when suddenly Aaron disappeared. If it had been Taylor Junior, we probably wouldn’t have seen the spot at all, but not all of his followers were so careful. Even knowing where it was, it’s not immediately obvious from above that you can get down to the valley that way.”
“Then how did Taylor Junior find it?”
“He’s a cunning SOB, and he’s got an eye for uncovering secrets. He found the Anasazi ruins in Dark Canyon, didn’t he? Nobody else had ever seen them. And then he stole a crate of chemical munitions from Dugway Proving Ground. Lost for decades, but he found it. Where is he now? Hiding somewhere with twenty or thirty other people, and nobody can find them.”
“Krantz, Eliza, and Miriam found their hideout. It’s an abandoned missile base. A secret Cold War thing that didn’t appear on the regular maps.”
“Which Taylor Junior sniffed out somehow.”
“True. But still, you can’t spot this passage from the valley floor?”
“Not easily. The pass drops out where Witch’s Warts abuts the Ghost Cliffs. It’s the deepest, least accessible part of the entire labyrinth. You stand at the bottom and you see a crack in the cliffs, that’s all.”
“I’m skeptical.”
“Because of the messenger?” she asked.
“Yes, in part. I wish you’d told me this earlier, when it wasn’t life and death.”
“You knew he had a way, though. Put it together with the sinkhole where he hid out.”
“You know about that?” Jacob asked.
“I’ve heard rumors.”
Jacob had to admit that it formed a complete picture. Suppose Taylor Junior had waited out his pursuers over the course of several weeks, and then, guessing correctly that the first place Jacob and the FBI would relax their vigil would be the outer perimeter of the valley, had escaped up the cliffs.
“You see?” she said. “It all makes sense.”
“Could someone climb it in the dark?”
“Maybe. It’s a steep, treacherous path.”
“Without a flashlight?” he asked. “So Taylor Junior couldn’t be spotted by someone in the town?”
“He’d be taking his life into his own hands.”
“That never stopped him before,” Jacob said. “You’ve seen it where it comes down? Could you tell me how to find where it emerges into Witch’s Warts?”
“How well do you know the labyrinth?”
“Better than most. Not as well as our enemy apparently.” While it was true that Jacob had never seen the secret path, he
had
explored the area where Witch’s Warts met the escarpment. One of the few who had, he guessed.
“Then I can tell you how to find it.”
Rebecca explained. He would find a sawlike scar across the cliff, marked at the base with scattered boulders and loose, crumbling
schist. Two Joshua trees with their branches almost entwined. The scar wouldn’t look passable, but that was the path down. Jacob listened and repeated everything to keep it fixed in his head.
Moments after she finished, his radio crackled. He started at the sudden noise, then groped to answer.
“Our girls called from the road.” It was Stephen Paul, his voice buzzing with excitement. “A military Humvee sped past their position a few seconds ago, heading this way. Mounted gun on the back and everything, like Krantz said.”
Jacob’s stomach lurched. “How long have we got?”
“Thirty minutes, tops.”
“Call reinforcements. I want the road covered from all sides. Let’s finish this thing.” He hung up and turned to Rebecca. “Looks like that won’t be necessary. For once, we guessed right.”
“Not necessarily.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about last time. Taylor Junior divided his forces to attack both the hospital and Blister Creek.” She unpacked the box of ammunition for her assault rifle, which suddenly looked like a welcome addition to the coming fight.
“Krantz said there were only four men.”
“Only four men last time too.”
“But we’re ready this time. With any luck, they have no idea
how
ready, but they’ve got to know we’re a hardened target from last time. We’ve run a continual patrol since last summer—they must know that. Even without the ambush, they’d be sure to run into someone, and then there’d be a fight. You know how to shoot that thing?” he added as she shoved a clip into her gun.
“I do. If you can get a clean shot, undetected, and take down that .50-cal, I’ll lay down suppressing fire until your reinforcements arrive.”
But Jacob was thinking about the security footage from the temple. Taylor Junior had infiltrated through Witch’s Warts, walked past the temple, and then returned to the labyrinth using the same path. At the time, the seeming purposelessness of that gesture had bothered Jacob, but now he thought he understood.
“It was a dry run,” he said.
“What?”
“Taylor Junior came into town a few weeks ago. We caught him on camera. He came in via Witch’s Warts. It was a test.” He turned to her and blinked. “You heard the motorcycle? I thought it was Henry Johnson’s ATV, but I think I was wrong. I think that was Taylor Junior on a motorcycle. He must have split off from the others, driven around the far side of the reservoir, and taken his secret path to Witch’s Warts.”
“Then he’s already on his way down,” she said. “While he sent his men forward with the Humvee and the machine gun.”
“And what is he trying to do?”
“The same things he always wants. Kill you and kidnap Eliza.”
“I know that, but how on earth does this help him do it? One guy on foot, while the whole valley is in an uproar. He has no way to find me or my sister. And even if he can get to my house…” He stopped, more confused than ever. “We’re ready for him. He knows that. What is he thinking?”
“He’s thinking he has help. He’s not alone. And I’m not talking about the guys in the Humvee.”
Jacob’s hand went to his scalp and felt the sore spot where he’d bashed his head in the fall. “The evil spirit? You think he’s insane?”
“Of course he’s insane. But I also believe that thing is real. And what I believe doesn’t matter. What you believe doesn’t matter. What matters is what Taylor Junior believes.”
He understood now. “He thinks an angel will protect him, he thinks he cannot be killed.” Jacob rose to his feet. “Stop the Humvee. They can’t get to Blister Creek. I don’t care what it takes, you have to stop them here.”
“Where are you going?”
He grabbed his rifle. “To find Taylor Junior.”
Jacob crossed the road and found David crouching in the darkness. The two boys lay still in their sleeping bags a few feet away. Jacob explained where he was going and said he didn’t want to leave Daniel behind.
His brother frowned. “What are you planning to do, take him with you into Witch’s Warts? Back where he had a psychotic break a few hours ago? That’s insane.”
“Of course not. I’ll drop him off at the house with Fernie and the others. They could use another gun. Even if there’s a boy holding it.”
“We can use another gun here too,” David said. “Besides, it’s not going to be any safer at the house. Not if that woman is right and Taylor Junior is already climbing down the cliff. What if Taylor Junior gets past you? Where’s the first place he’ll go?”