Directly ahead was the black structure of the church, calling them to its steps.
The potent floral smell filling the air almost caused Jason to gag. He hesitated before going through the tunnel of bodies, but Crane gave him a shove from behind to help him along.
The last of the practitioners had gone inside by the time the procession reached the steps leading to the entrance.
They could see the glow from the candles in the narthex. Flickering shadows danced over the walls of its interior, creating the illusion that the murals were coming to life and moving around.
The low, sombre hymn whispering from the nave beckoned them closer. Tonally, the song had a funeral feel to it.
As they entered, the entirely adult throng remained seated, facing straight ahead to the empty stage.
The twelve disciples guided the prisoners into the same cage they had been held in for the previous ceremony. Something about this service seemed different though.
The time of night, the lack of children, and the hundreds of candles surrounding them like a midnight mass. There was a palpable tension in the air.
Raine and the others could feel it just as keenly.
Crane crossed the stage and ventured into the vestry. He returned shortly after to escort Edwards to his pulpit and Ethan to the far edge of the stage not far from where his friends were held.
He looked them over to try and establish if they had been harmed.
Foster smiled and opened one of her hands to him, and he forced a smile in response.
‘If he stays that close, grab him as soon as you get a chance,’ Raine whispered.
‘Thank you all for gathering this evening and for putting the little ones to bed slightly earlier than they perhaps normally would. I know they secretly will not be thanking me for that,’ Edwards said, smiling as he addressed his loyal worshippers.
The priest was already sweating and pulled a handkerchief from his robes to mop his pallid skin.
‘I know you gave up your time willingly tonight because you appreciate the work our disciples do for God and our community… Please.’ Edwards beckoned the twelve robed men to the middle of the stage, and they duly obliged, walking across to stand side by side, facing the audience.
‘These subjects have defended this community with unwavering courage and travelled hundreds of miles to bring The Shepherd to us at great personal cost. Lives were lost, but they did not die in vain. Their sacrifice will be our salvation. It has provided us with the means to defeat the enemies of our Lord.’
Many of the followers muttered, ‘Amen,’ under their breath, and some clasped their hands together and gazed up to the high ceiling.
‘On a happier note, you will all be pleased to know that God has decided young Owen belongs in the realms of the living, and once he has made a full recovery, he will be joining the disciples.’
The crowd let out a collective sigh of relief and satisfaction.
‘We need to replenish our ranks more than ever because a great battle is on the horizon. Once we have removed the threat of Gideon and his satanic cult, nothing will stand in the way of God’s will.’
Edwards raised his arms aloft.
‘Put on the whole armour of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. Amen.’
‘Amen!’ his audience called back sternly.
‘Tonight is for these brave souls. Tonight, we give thanks to them.’ Edwards stepped away from his lectern and joined the disciples standing at the front of the stage. He moved next to Anthony and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘These men pay a heavy price for their servitude, and they must indulge in what biblical scholars refer to as necessary evil. It is sometimes hard to comprehend when we serve the light, but our Lord has set aside a purpose for all things, and his soldiers must have restoration to do what they must.’
Ethan gazed down to the faces in the crowd. They glanced uncomfortably at one another, and there was a visible increase in shuffling on the pews. More than that, Ethan could sense their rising fear as if it were a scent carried on the air.
‘I too wish it did not have to be this way, but I only follow. I do not question. You must do the same. To assist you in your resilience, please remember his words: “I form light and create darkness, I make well-being and create calamity, I am the Lord, who does all these things”.’
Edwards leaned forwards to look across the line of disciples and gave a single nod.
The four closest to the left side of the stage responded by filing away.
He then walked over to the holding cage and got close enough to the bars that the prisoners could reach out and grab him if they wanted to.
However, Crane and another disciple shadowed their leader, observing each one of them.
Edwards was immediately drawn to Raine. She didn’t flinch from his advances and instead pulled herself closer to the bars.
He stared deep into her eyes, regarding her like the precious find she was.
‘I questioned God that this day would ever come,’ he said softly.
‘I’ve thought about you a lot—the decision I made,’ Raine said.
‘So have I, my dear.’
‘I never questioned if I made the right call that day, but it didn’t stop me from feeling guilty. Thank you for removing that. I already had enough to spare.’
‘You are very welcome,’ Edwards said. ‘Seeing as you are such a proponent of making sacrifices for the greater good, I think you are going to appreciate this moment.’
He looked over her shoulder to O.B., who stood a little farther back, assessing how he might tackle the two guards if he could escape and how quickly he could get to Ethan before the other disciples descended upon him.
‘Oswald, I hardly recognised you,’ Edwards said, referring to his shaven head and hardened expression. ‘Time has not been kind to you, young man. The weight lies heavy.’
‘I could say the same about you,’ O.B. said.
The priest’s murky eyes flickered, sweat oozing from his pale skin.
‘Do not lose heart. Your friend did not die in vain. I remember how you tried to help me afterwards but were prevented from doing so. If I thought you would ever abandon your group to join our community, I would set you free from this. While I understand that your loyalties lie elsewhere, I am afraid our Lord will not be as accommodating.’
Edwards took a couple steps until he was face to face with Foster.
‘Where is your beloved science now? It is not going to come to your rescue this time. I think if you are brutally honest with yourself, it never really did,’ he said.
‘At least it explains what we’re all doing here,’ Foster said. ‘Why don’t you explain to your followers that God had nothing to do with it? As the last surviving member of the Lazarus Project, I’d be happy to take responsibility in order to expose you for the fraud you are.’
Edwards’s expression sullied, and he lifted his hand towards the two disciples.
‘Her,’ he instructed.
Crane and his colleague sprang into action, unlocking the crate and reaching in for the doctor. As soon as Ethan saw what was happening, he tried to make a run for them but was held back by his guardians.
‘Edwards, no!’ he shouted.
Although Ethan was prevented from interfering, O.B. grabbed Foster around her waist and threw his other arm into the chest of the oncoming disciple, winding him.
Crane reacted quickly, ghosting between them to place his knife against O.B.’s throat.
Raine and Jason were poised to attack but knew they could risk losing O.B. if they did.
Ethan was forced to his knees to try and stop him from struggling, and he saw the henchman O.B. had winded recover to snatch Foster in his arms.
‘Edwards, whatever you’re going to do, not her. Please, I beg you. I’ll do anything you want. Anything.’
‘No matter what you say, you are going to serve God’s will,’ Edward
s said defiantly.
‘If you do this, I won’t do what you ask. I swear, you’ll have to kill me,’ Ethan responded through gritted teeth.
His conviction gave Edwards a moment’s pause. He looked back into the crate and held up his hand to signal to his disciple. The man stopped trying to pull Foster out, and she retreated farther inside with the others.
Raine and Jason were still focussed on Crane and the knife he had pressed to O.B.’s neck.
Through the gaps in the bars, Edwards noticed Jason brush his fingertips across the skin of Raine’s palm and he smiled. He beckoned another disciple over from the centre of the stage to help out and pointed directly at Jason.
As the third man entered to get to the back of the crate, Crane made sure he applied a little more pressure on the blade, breaking O.B.’s skin.
O.B. never flinched and glared into Crane’s eyes the whole time.
When the two men laid their hands on Jason, Raine instinctively squared up to them, but Jason shoved her in the chest to stop her going any further.
‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘It’s OK.’ His eyes glazed over, he managed to force a smile for her as they hauled him out of the crate.
Foster spat at them, helpless to intervene.
Once they’d escorted Jason to the stage, Crane gradually withdrew his blade and backed away from O.B., locking the cage behind him.
Everyone’s attention moved to the disciples who had previously left the stage. Two of them returned carrying a porcelain bowl. It was wide, likely to have been used inside the church font during baptisms. They placed it on the floor near the centre and went back to the wings.
The prisoners, particularly Jason, stared at the bowl, half expecting something to crawl out of it.
The disciples set about Jason, quickly stripping his shirt from him, then his jeans and his boots until he was naked and shivering, save for his underwear and socks.
The squeak and rumble of wheels on the hardwood soon caused the crowd to turn their heads to the left side of the stage.
This time, all four disciples returned pushing a large contraption. The portable stand housed an X-shaped frame fixed about halfway up the pole. It was attached to a pivot point that would allow the frame to rotate 360 degrees.
Jason’s eyes bulged when he saw the device, and he shuffled back as much as his captors would allow. His mind raced with all the nightmarish possibilities for its existence.
Ethan had no more idea what was about to happen than anyone else in his group, but he knew it would certainly have grave consequences for Jason. He appealed to Edwards again.
‘Please, don’t do this. I’ve already sworn to you that I’ll do what you want.’
Edwards turned to him and nodded.
‘I believe you, but it is important that you understand what will happen to the others if you do not play your part. Besides, my disciples need this in order to carry out their part, and so do you.’
Jason was dragged to the contraption. He tried to dig his heels in, but his feet just slipped on the polished floor.
Ethan continued to struggle but was held down.
The other three pushed themselves against the bars of their cell so they could see what was happening.
Jason managed to turn his head far enough to make eye contact with Raine.
‘Get them out, Miller. Get them out,’ he said.
The disciples placed a wooden box on either side of the device, and it took four men to lift Jason up to the X-shaped frame. Once they pushed him flush to it, two of them climbed onto the boxes and each one grabbed an arm, lining it up to the frame.
They held belt straps, which they pulled tight around Jason’s wrists to secure him, and two other disciples did the same to his legs.
The rate of his breathing accelerated, and he began to tremble like a frightened animal.
‘As with all things in God’s world, death must give birth to life, and so with the demise of every creature comes the sustenance of another,’ Edwards said.
Crane pulled hard on the structure and it rotated. The disciples halted its revolution once Jason was upside down, the baptism bowl positioned directly beneath him.
In this new position, he called out, disoriented and unable to see the others inside the cage. His only view was of the congregation, as if they were suspended from the ceiling on their pews.
Their grim anticipation of things to come was written all over their faces.
‘In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace. Amen,’ Edwards said.
‘Amen,’ the crowd called back reluctantly.
‘Edwards, please don’t do this,’ Ethan said.
The four disciples drew their daggers and held them aloft.
‘Through the power of Christ, he has imbued this man with his blood so we can use it to deliver his holy word to those who would try to thwart our mission,’ Edwards said.
One glance to his faithful servants was all it took.
The first two disciples on either side of Jason plunged their blades at least two inches into his thighs, slicing his femoral arteries.
Jason screamed, and as soon as they removed the knives, the deep red began to pump from the severed flesh, painting his torso with gore.
Foster snatched herself away from the bars and stooped in the corner, cupping her mouth as she retched and cried at the same time.
Ethan gave up his fight, planting his head onto the floor and pushing hard against it, as if he were trying to bury himself into the stage.
The second pair of men stepped up, this time making vertical incisions along the inside of Jason’s arms from elbow joint to wrist. The blood gushed from the four wounds and collected in the bowl.
Jason’s vision started to blur, but his sight was soon obscured altogether because the blood pouring from the wounds in his legs completely covered his face, drenching his beard. His screaming subsided, his body shaking, descending into shock. He could feel every last beat of his heart as his life ebbed away in front of a largely disturbed audience.
Many churchgoers could no longer watch the bloodletting unfold and averted their eyes to the intricate Christian symbolism of the murals scribed onto the building’s interior.
In the crate, O.B. watched Jason bleed to death in horror. He’d beaten himself numb to a lot of things since he’d lost Darla, trained his mind to shut down his emotions when they tried to rise up to make him feel the pain he wanted to bury for good. However much he wanted to, he could not bury this. It had opened him up again as fatally as their tormentors had opened Jason’s arteries.
Raine hadn’t taken her eyes from the torture either. She’d never flinched at the cuts or the screaming. There was no way she would abstain. She wanted to witness every second of it, to memorise every line and curve of the faces of the men who carried out Edwards’s command.
Finally their leader nodded to Crane, who drew his blade to the ceiling and then swiftly sliced across Jason’s throat.
Jason let out one last gargled breath, and what was left of his blood drained into the already overflowing bowl.
‘Then Jesus said to them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you”,’ Edwards said.
The disciples followed his sermon by passing around several silver goblets. They each approached the bowl beneath Jason’s exsanguinated corpse and submerged their cups in the thick river of claret.
With an insatiable thirst, they poured the liquid down their throats, trying to drink so fast that some escaped and dribbled from their chins.
The congregation remained silent, observing in fearful awe of the consumption ritual.
Once Crane had taken his fill, he dipped his goblet in the bowl again and then handed it to Edwards.
He took a large gulp and savoured its taste and texture as it slid down his gullet. Satisfied and r
estored, he walked over to Ethan. The disciple guarding him lifted him from the floor, forcing him to face the deranged preacher. Edwards held out the cup to him.
‘You are no different to us in this respect. Do not feel ashamed, and take what you need,’ he said.
Reluctantly, Ethan gazed into the cup, and the primal thirst he’d developed since his infection rose within every fibre of his body. Whether from withdrawal or because the virus had taken a firmer hold, the urge to drink had never been stronger.
He gazed over the rim of the goblet towards the ravaged corpse of his dead friend, displayed like hanging meat in an abattoir.
Ethan lashed out, striking the cup from Edwards’s hand. It hit the floor, and the remaining blood inside spilled across the stage, almost reaching the crate where Raine still stood, glaring through the bars.
Edwards shared a look with her. He didn’t show it outwardly, but the intention behind her eyes burned him to the bone. Shaking off the feeling, he turned back to Ethan and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
‘Fight it if you must, but sooner or later you won’t be able to resist what’s now as natural as breathing.’
Episode Seven
Reawakening
1
Salty and his new group entered North Dakota on the 94 with a battered station wagon they managed to jump-start on the border of the Blackfeet Indian Reservation some six hundred miles back.
Unfortunately for them, their gas supplies ran out shortly afterwards, and they were forced to continue the rest of the way on foot.
Even more unfortunate was the fact that they had broken down in the Badlands in the western region of the state. The green landscape faded away. Now they were surrounded by canyons and loose rock formations.
The strange landforms were barren, waterless, and stretched on for miles.
They felt like astronauts who had landed on an uncharted planet, staring up at large formations that had formed millions of years ago, shaped by weathering and erosion.
Tall pillars of sedimentary rock enveloped them like hoodoos to ward off foolhardy travellers who had ventured a little too far for their own good.
The repetitive squealing call of a golden eagle bounced from the hard mud, shale, and limestone until it was impossible to pinpoint its location. The sounds were everywhere and nowhere.
Everything Dies | Season 3 Page 18