Authors: Elisa Nader
Gabriel stared at me with unfocused eyes. “Stop.”
I tried to take a step toward him, but Thaddeus wouldn’t let me move an inch. “What?” I asked Gabriel. “Why?”
“Because it’s true,” Gabriel said. “I should have been punished. I wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t your—”
“Enough!” the Reverend said. “Thaddeus, take her to the side of the stage until I’m ready for her.”
Ready for her?
My limbs went numb. I stumbled back, dragged by Thaddeus, close to where Agatha stood. Her face hadn’t lost that snarling anger I’d seen before.
“What did you do?” she whispered to me. “How did you get into the pantry?”
Thaddeus was close enough to hear everything.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lied, doing a poor job of it.
“You’ve changed everything, do you know that?” she said in a seething whisper. “Now, it won’t be peaceful. It will be hell.”
My stomach dropped. What would be hell?
“Control yourself, Agatha,” Thaddeus said.
At the front of the stage, the Reverend folded his arms over his great bulk and glared down at the faces turned up to him in reverence and, what the Reverend considered essential, fear.
“Everyone, come to your feet,” he said.
As the Flock did, he motioned for the guards. They swarmed the pavilion, guns flung across their backs, and began moving the benches that had been so carefully aligned. With scrapes and screeches along the wood floor, they arranged the benches in a circle, surrounding the perimeter of the pavilion. Without the rows of benches, the area was a vast, yawning space.
The Flock stood in the center of the pavilion in confusion. Mama huddled the younger schoolchildren around her, a few silently weeping.
“Grizz,” the Reverend called down from the stage. “Take the children and Maria to the schoolhouse.”
Grizz, who’d just placed a bench down at the edge of the pavilion, seemed confused for a moment and looked to Thaddeus for confirmation. From the corner of my vision, I saw Thaddeus curtly nod once. Grizz lumbered over to the children and herded them out of the pavilion. Mama trailed behind, flashing a concerned glance at me over her shoulder. Max turned from the small pack of children and ran toward the stage, calling my name. Grizz swooped him up in one big arm and carried him off to the schoolhouse. Max didn’t utter a word. He reached out one small hand and waved to me.
I hoped it wasn’t a wave of goodbye.
What was about to happen that even the Reverend didn’t want the children to witness? They’d just witnessed the doctor, who’d treated them for sickness, who’d comforted them after vaccinations, killed brutally before their eyes. What was worse than that?
And what could I do to stop it?
The Reverend approached the end of the stage, picking his way over the trail of Doc Gladstone’s blood. He pointed to Sister, standing in the middle of the crowd, her gray hair escaping from her headscarf. Flanking her, Suzanne and Kori, the girls from the sewing cottage, held onto Sister’s arms. Her body wobbled and shook. She’d grown more and more feeble during the years I’d known her. I’d never noticed how feeble until that moment.
“Sister!” he called. “You’ve been here since Edenton was created. How does our accomplishment make you feel?”
Sister straightened with the help of the girls. “Well, Reverend, we’ve worked mighty hard to make Edenton what it is. And I know I feel like we’ve achieved something truly wonderful and unique.”
“Really?” The Reverend sounded skeptical. “What about you, Freddie?”
Freddie stood at the perimeter of the pavilion and snapped his head up. “Sir?”
“You’re new here in Edenton. Only been here a year. How do you feel about what we’ve created?”
Freddie glanced at Bridgette, whose attention was directed at the stage. He fidgeted with the strap of his gun. “It’s a great accomplishment, sir,” he said in such a way it almost sounded like a question. “We’re a self-sustaining community. Like no other in the world.”
“Like no other in the world,” the Reverend repeated.
The Flock mumbled in agreement, a few calling out, “It’s been God’s work,” and, “We’ve done what no other community has done before.”
“So, what you folks are telling me,” the Reverend said, “is that we’ve done something different here. Something special. Exceptional.” He glanced back at Agatha and dipped his chin to her.
Agatha heaved a sigh. “Know this is your fault,” she said to me and dashed down the stage steps.
I twisted to get a look at Thaddeus. He ignored me and kept his gaze fixed on the Flock.
“It seems,” the Reverend said, “you’ve taken an immense amount of pride in your work here in Edenton.”
At the word “pride,” a wave of dismay swayed the Flock. People glanced at each other, worried.
Agatha appeared again, coming around the stage wheeling a tall plastic box on one of the dollies we used for taking kitchen waste to the heap. She made her way to the center of the Flock and asked people to form a circle in front of the benches that had been pushed back. In the center of the pavilion, she placed the box on the ground with effort. No one helped or offered to help, which was very unlike anyone in Edenton. She ensured the lid was secure, not locked, but sitting firmly on top of the box before stepping away.
Thaddeus shoved me forward. The security guard holding Gabriel did the same, sliding our protesting feet through the blood congealing onstage. We met in the center, facing each other.
Gabriel’s eyes met mine. He looked thrown, as confused as I was. But I saw something beyond the confusion. A dark resignation.
“Well, now,” the Reverend bellowed. “It seems we can’t remain here in Edenton much longer. Doc Gladstone saw to that prior to his passing.”
He paced the stage before us, intermittently blocking our view of the Flock. From what I could see, they stood dumbstruck, staring up at him. The box sat ominously in the center of the circle.
“I understand how proud you feel of this place. I do. Truly. How can I punish you for creating this beautiful, loving place?”
“So you will show us mercy?” someone from the Flock asked. “You are a great leader, Reverend.”
The Reverend froze. “Mercy?” His voice was suddenly very small.
He looked back at Thaddeus with a look of doubt. I sensed Thaddeus shake his head at the Reverend.
The Reverend turned back to the Flock, cocked his head, and grinned. “No, children. No mercy. Please, Agatha, open the box and pass around the contents.”
As she did, I craned to see what she was handing out–difficult to do with Thaddeus holding me so tightly. I saw objects of different shapes and sizes, glinting in the morning sun.
“Children,” the Reverend said. “We cannot stay here any longer. People from the outside world will be here shortly to take over control of Edenton! They want to destroy how we live, our way of life! Therefore, I’m leaving Edenton to create a new paradise. A pure place, untouched by the traitors who have betrayed my trust and love. Where no sinners from the evil world outside can ever disturb our paradise.” He held his hands out to either side. “Today, I am Noah. Those who come to attack us, to take away what we’ve created, are our Flood. The Ark awaits. As Noah took the unblemished animals, the ones strong enough to resist the great wickedness and sin, I take the strongest of our Flock.” He swept out his hand in a grand gesture.
Thaddeus thrust a length of heavy chain into my hands.
Gabriel was already holding an aluminum bat.
I looked out at the Flock. Agatha was passing out weapons: crowbars, pointed wooden sticks, ropes with weighted metal balls. Bats, like Gabriel’s, chains, like mine.
“Let God decide!” the Reverend yelled, arms outstretched to the heavens. “Those of you with God on your side will come with me to the new Eden! The rest of you will die here in Hell.”
The Reverend wasn’t going to kill us as the network suspected. He was going to make us kill each other.
The Flock, laden with heavy weapons, stared at the Reverend in confusion and horror.
“What do you want us to do?” someone asked. It sounded like Angél.
“Fight,” the Reverend said, voice colored with anger. “Fight each other for the privilege of joining me on my pilgrimage to the new Edenton.”
Everyone continued to stare at him, baffled.
“You have thirty seconds to say a prayer for God’s blessing,” the Reverend said. “At my command, you will begin!”
Time ticked by. Tears welled in eyes, lips trembled, mouths mumbled in prayer. But no one questioned. No one challenged. All remained paralyzed in compliance, like lambs to the slaughter.
“You,” Thaddeus said in my ear, “are to fight Gabriel.”
He waved a hand at Gabriel, who was spinning the bat around like a top on the stage floor. He looked up then, eyes flicking to mine. He squinted at me, a look I couldn’t quite decipher. A calculating look, or perhaps sinister? Fear shot through my nerves.
The chain in my hands was heavy, cold. I wasn’t sure if I could entirely lift it, let alone swing it at an opponent.
Thaddeus shoved me forward. I tripped toward Gabriel. His gaze slid from mine, back down to the bat in his hands.
“Fifteen seconds!” the Reverend yelled.
The guard released Gabriel and stepped away, eyeing us warily. I glanced back. Thaddeus now stood some distance behind me.
I heard a fleshy thud. Even before the Reverend called time, the Flock began fighting. Already, a body was down, but I couldn’t see who it was or how badly the person was hurt.
The Reverend walked between us to his throne at the back of the stage and lowered himself into the seat. He banged the armrest with a meaty fist. “Everyone … fight!” he yelled.
I was close enough to Gabriel to hear his intake of breath. With the tips of his fingers, he lifted his bat in the air and twirled it at his side.
“Swing at me,” he whispered.
“What?”
“They were dumb enough to give us weapons, Ricci. Let’s use them for the greater good.”
A flash of fear tempered by determination. “On three?” I asked.
“No,” he said, tightening his grip. “Now!”
We swung at each other, but knew to bow away from the hurtling weapons. We pivoted. I lunged at Thaddeus, swinging the heavy chain at his head. All the muscles in my arms screamed in protest, but I levered back and used my weight to counterweigh the momentum of the chain. It winged through the air with a woosh, hurtling toward Thaddeus’s temple.
In a flash, he lifted his arm and the chain whirled around his wrist, wrapping it like a bracelet. He caught the end in his huge hand with an assured, quick grasp. With one tug, I fell on my knees in front of him. Pain exploded through my kneecaps, now sticky with Doc Gladstone’s blood. My palm, still caught in the chain, stung. I gasped as my fingers went numb.
He leaned down and through gritted teeth said, “Do you think you can fight me, little girl?”
He jerked me to my feet. Fury burned in his dark eyes. He tried to whip the chain from me, but I wouldn’t let go. Despite the dizzying stinging in my legs and hand I held on, tugging at it with as much strength as I could muster.
As if from a distance, I heard the Reverend cackle. “Can’t disarm a child, Thaddeus? Maybe you deserve to remain here in Hell when they come.”
They. The network. They were coming and the Reverend knew it.
Thaddeus threw the Reverend a frightening expression, eyes hard and mouth tense with anger. It stole the laugh from the Reverend’s throat. The Reverend sobered and fidgeted on his throne. He looked away.
Thaddeus lifted me to my feet with what seemed like a mere flex of his bicep. As the pain faded in my legs, sounds around me grew louder and sharper. Fighting. Hits, slaps, crashes, and thuds; cries for mercy and grunts of strength. The sounds of the Flock fighting each other for their lives.
But I couldn’t look away from Thaddeus. His face was so close to mine. The whites of his eyes were clear and unblemished. Like the purest marble. But his irises were fathomless, deep with loathing.
“You’ve caused enough trouble, Mia,” he said. “We should have taken care of you when we had the opportunity.”
“Oh?” I said and wondered when that opportunity happened. During Prayer Circle? Or sooner? White-hot anger welled inside my chest. I planted my feet firmly, one behind the other and let out a breath. I shot my knee up with enough force to connect with his groin. His eyes grew wide. He buckled over.
With strength in the midst of the pain, Thaddeus backhanded me across the face. I tasted coppery blood as I skidded backward along the stage floor with bruising force, my head hitting hard when I finally came to a halt. The chain chased across the stage after me, clinking frenetically until it crashed into a pile. I crumpled into a ball, gasping with shock and pain.
Thaddeus threw the Reverend a hard look, then glared down. He kicked out at me and his booted foot connected with my ribcage. I cried out as my left side twitched in agony.
“You’re not worth any more of my time,” he said, and waved someone over. “I have other things to attend to.”
I heard the chain again, this time a slow, neat jingle of straightening links. With effort, I glanced up to see Agatha coming toward me, a length of chain dangling from her veiny hand. I struggled to raise myself onto my elbows. The world swayed around me. With my blurred vision, I saw Agatha lunge, swinging the heavy chain at my head.
I rolled out of the way. The chain hit the floor with a wood-breaking thwack. I heaved myself to my feet and crouched low, dodging the wildly swinging chain.
“It could have been a peaceful sleep,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “The profound blackness of sleep. Nothing more. No pain, no violence. The rest would have been absolute and tranquil. There was only enough poison to take out a little over half the Flock. The ones that survived would have gone with us.”
“Us?” I asked, wiping blood from my lips.
She swung the chain again and I jumped out of her reach. “The important ones. The ones who make Edenton what it is,” she said. Her hair escaped her neat bun and madness swirled in her eyes. “The chosen ones.”