Maelstrom

by Susanna Strom

  “Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  Should I have felt something? Grief? Horror? Guilt?

  “You may kiss your bride.”

  Those words pierced my apathy.

  Bill’s tongue darted out, moistening his lips. My stomach clenched at the prospect of those pink, glistening lips touching mine, and my ears began to buzz.

  Smiling exultantly, Bill seized my shoulders. His fingers dug possessively into my skin as he began to lean forward.

  I braced myself and swallowed the acid rising in my gorge. The buzzing in my ears grew louder.

  Wait. I tilted my head. The sound wasn’t coming from inside my skull.

  Pastor Bill heard it, too. Frowning, he looked toward the entrance to the chapel. I followed suit. Everybody in the church had twisted around in their pews and was staring at the wide open double doors.

  The noise gained strength, a familiar deep, thrumming rumble—not Ripper’s Shovelhead—but the unmistakable sound of Harley pipes.

  Who was riding a Harley inside the camp?

  A green motorcycle burst through the doorway and barreled up the aisle, skittering to a stop a dozen feet from the altar. In one smooth movement, the rider cut the engine, toed down the kickstand, and swung off the bike.

  I staggered and would have fallen if Pastor Bill hadn’t been holding me up.

  Ripper. Larger than life and exuding menace.

  I screwed my eyes shut, then opened them again. Not a mirage, not a trick of my imagination. The man I loved and thought I’d lost stood before me.

  I fought to wrench away from Bill’s grip, but the pastor spun me around and pinned my back to his chest.

  Ripper’s gaze flitted over my face before his eyes locked onto the pastor. Ripper’s countenance was blank, devoid of expression, as pitiless as a raptor.

  He’d warned me that he was a killer and had asked if I could live with that knowledge. I’d told him that I could, but it was jarring to finally see the ruthless face he wore when he dealt his own particular form of justice to his enemies.

  “Ripper,” I whispered, wishing for a softening of the stern lines, a small flicker of emotion when he glanced at me.

  He ignored me.

  Over Ripper’s shoulder, I saw Kyle, Sahdev, and Levi—the face in the woods—standing in the back of the church, weapons in their hands. Two of the pastor’s armed guards ran into the church, stumbling in their haste. My friends disarmed the stunned guards, and Levi secured their hands and feet with zip ties.

  Pastor Bill slapped his hand over my mouth and raised a knife to my throat. He must have pulled it from his pocket after he grabbed me.

  “I’m going to slice her throat from ear to ear and make you watch the bitch bleed out.”

  Ripper didn’t twitch.

  Slice my throat from ear to ear. The phrase triggered a memory from months ago, back in Portland, when Ripper had made good on his promise to teach me how to fight.

  He’d stood behind me and held a rubber training knife to my throat.

  “In movies, they make it look easy to sneak up behind somebody and slit their throat. It isn’t. If you put a hand over their mouth, your intended victim might bite you. Any clothes, especially a collar, might divert the blade. A superficial cut won’t do the job. The carotid arteries are buried underneath layers of muscle. If you need to sneak up behind somebody with a knife, go for the kidneys, Mac, not the throat.”

  He’d touched the tip of the rubber knife to one side of my lower back.

  Pastor Bill would have benefited from Ripper’s lessons. The tall, pleated collar on my wedding dress might get in the way of the knife, or at least make the slash less lethal. And the fool had his hand pressed firmly against my mouth.

  Ripper’s eyes flicked to mine, and I gave a slight nod. I sank my teeth into the base of the pastor’s thumb, biting down as hard as I could. With both hands, I seized the wrist holding the knife and jerked it down and away from my body. Twisting sideways, I dropped my head and shoulders out of the way.

  It was all the opening Ripper needed.

  He fired two shots, blasting a hole in Pastor Bill’s chest. As he collapsed, the pastor’s body carried me down onto the floor.

  I wriggled out from under him, blood splattered across my hideous wedding dress.

  Rebecca shrieked and flung herself on top of the pastor’s body. She actually cared about the man?

  I was so shocked that at first I didn’t notice Deacon Morris draw a gun from a shoulder holster.

  Ripper did. He dropped the deacon before the man could raise his weapon. Morris toppled over, and his gun clattered to the floor at Justine’s feet.

  Deacon Gary stood frozen in place, an open Bible clutched in his hands. He carefully set the holy book on the altar, then raised his hands and shuffled backwards.

  “You.” Ripper stalked forward, his voice heavy with menace.

  “I surrender.” Deacon Gary’s voice quivered. “I’m unarmed.”

  “Yeah?” Ripper’s voice rose to fill every corner of the chapel. “Did you think about all the unarmed people who died when you blew up The Dalles Dam?”

  The congregation gasped.

  “I...I was just following orders.”

  As if that mattered, as if history wasn’t full of scumbags who trotted out the line just following orders to justify their heinous deeds.

  “Just following orders, huh.” Ripper dropped his chin. “Tell me, did you think about all the unarmed folk who died when you just followed orders and burned Portland to the ground? Seattle, too? God knows what Pastor Bill had planned for The Hanford Nuclear site, but I bet you would’ve hopped to and just followed orders there, as well.”

  Shocked murmurs rippled through the congregation.

  “And how about Tyler?” Ripper pressed his point. “Were you just following orders when you knocked him out and left him to die in the cabin before you blew it up?”

  Justine fell to her knees and clawed for the gun that Deacon Morris had dropped. Without hesitation, she pointed the weapon at Gary and fired. The bullet struck him in the neck. A fountain of blood erupted, and the deacon crumpled to the floor.

  In less than sixty seconds three men were dead.

  I gaped open-mouthed at the bloodbath. I was smack-dab in the middle of a Shakespearean tragedy, where everybody on stage died at the end.

  “Tyler.” Justine wailed, her body racked with sobs.

  Good lord. The only word I’d heard the timid girl speak, and it conveyed a world of meaning. She loved Tyler, and somehow Pastor Bill had forced her to become his second Eve. I wished I’d recognized that something was wrong and had reached out to the girl, instead of simply assuming that she was Rebecca’s willing minion.

  She hiccuped, drew in a breath, and raised the gun, pressing the barrel beneath her chin.

  “No,” I cried.

  Ripper lunged and wrested the gun away from the girl.

  She broke down entirely then, swaying back and forth as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  I crawled over to Justine, dragging my wedding dress through the blood, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, hugging her close while she cried.

  Ripper squatted next to us. When I lifted my gaze to his, his mask finally cracked, revealing a hint of the man I loved beneath the brutal facade. His eyes softened, and he brushed his knuckles over my cheek.

  “Ripper.” I whispered his name. I couldn’t abandon the hysterical Justine and throw myself at him, however much I wanted to.

  He nodded, his eyes brimming with promise.

  Commotion at the doorway compelled us to turn our heads and look away from each other. Ripper stood.

  Pastor Derek limped up the aisle, holding onto Nicole’s shoulder for support. Bruises and abrasions circled his wrists from wearing handcuffs 24/7, and he held himself stiffly. Being chained to a wall and sleeping on a cold cement floor would do that to a man. And clearly, whatever his captors gave him to eat
was inadequate for a man of his size. I recognized the buff, athletic man from the photos on the office wall, but two weeks of incarceration had changed him, hollowed out his cheeks, and left his gray henley swimming on his tall frame.

  He stopped halfway up the aisle and slowly turned around, surveying the congregation and the bloody carnage at the altar.

  “What in God’s name happened here?” His body might be weak, but his voice was strong.

  “Who are you?” Ripper demanded.

  “Pastor Derek Heywood. This was my church’s summer camp. When I came to check on it two weeks ago, Bill and his deacons locked me in the basement of the camp offices.” His gaze swept up and down Ripper, his keen eyes taking in every detail. “Who are you?”

  “Ripper Solis. My friends and I were passing through and tangled with Bill and his men. He sent us on a wild goose chase, then told us that the flu killed Mac. Told her we died in an explosion. All because he wanted her for one of his harem.”

  Ripper tilted his head at me, sitting on the floor in my blood-stained white dress, hugging the inconsolable Justine.

  “You’re Kenzie’s friends?” Derek stared at the bloody altar. “Kenzie and I got to know each other when we were locked up. I heard the devil’s bargain she made with Pastor Bill, offering to marry him if he’d leave the teenage girl alone.” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “‘Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.’ I suspect that Bill and his deacons are accounting for their sins right about now.”

  “They got more than enough sins to go around. Bill ordered his men to blow up The Dalles Dam and to burn Portland and Seattle to the ground. And, oh yeah,” Ripper continued. “He had one of his deacons murder the young man who was in love with the pastor’s wife number two.”

  Nicole gasped and rushed forward, dropping to her knees by my side. “Justine. Sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

  Justine opened her eyes and hurled herself into Nicole’s arms.

  I rose unsteadily to my feet. Ripper pivoted to face me. Mere feet apart, we stood stock-still, as if rooted in place by some unseen force.

  Over the eons, how many despairing people had bargained with fate, begged for the impossible, only to be denied? For the rest of my life, I’d never ask the universe for another favor. Destiny had dealt me an incredible hand. In one fell swoop, I’d been blessed with a lifetime’s worth of good luck. I almost choked on my gratitude.

  The spell lifted, and I stumbled toward Ripper. He caught me in his arms. Home. My exile in the wilderness was over, and I was back home. I nuzzled his throat and inhaled his familiar scent, that heady combination of leather and man that was uniquely his own. Sighing with pleasure, I tasted his skin, then shaped my lips into a circle and sucked hard. Yep. I gave the man a hickey and marked him as my own.

  Ripper caught my face in his hands and tilted it up to meet his. “I love you, Mackenzie Dunwitty. You’re mine and I’m yours, and I swear to God that nothing this fucked-up world throws at us will ever keep us apart again.”

  And Ripper always keeps his promises. I heard my dead cousin’s voice in my head and could almost sense him smiling at us from the great beyond.

  I nodded, too overcome to speak.

  What was that Bible verse that Pastor Derek had quoted? Weeping may endure for the night, but joy cometh in the morning.

  Not exactly in my case. My morning—spent preparing for a wedding to a man I despised—had absolutely sucked. I couldn’t have imagined then that my future held any prospect for joy. Yet despite the bloody mayhem of the past few minutes, safe in the arms of the outlaw biker who’d just told me that he loved me, happiness once again took root in my heart.

  Joy comes in the late afternoon. It didn’t have quite the ring of the Bible verse, but it would do.

  Ripper kept his arms around my waist when I turned around to look at Kyle, Sahdev, and Levi. I smiled at them, my heart brimming over with that once-elusive joy.

  “I’m glad to see you in the land of the living, Kenz.” Kyle grinned.

  I nodded. “Me, too. I missed you all so much. Where’s Hector?”

  “He’s with Hannah,” Sahdev said. “It’s good to see you, Kenzie.”

  “What happens now?” Ripper asked Pastor Derek.

  “Now we pick up the pieces and help these people heal from the damage caused by Bill and his henchmen.”

  Pastor Derek turned to face the congregation.

  “In the book of Matthew, we’re told, ‘Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits.’”

  He glanced pointedly over his shoulder at the bodies of Bill, Morris, and Gary. “You were deceived by a false prophet, a man who perverted God’s word to manipulate you and achieve his own ends. And just what did he achieve? What were the fruits of his labors? Fire and flood. The deaths of countless innocent people.”

  “We didn’t know.” Ruth rose to her feet. “We had no idea about the bombs or the fires. We didn’t know you were being held prisoner in the basement. He didn’t tell us anything about that.”

  Pastor Derek nodded. “Maybe not, but you all saw him parade his Eves through the camp. You all saw a petty tyrant indulge his carnal desires at the expense of unwilling young women. Did you honestly think those were the actions of a godly man?”

  “He told us we were building a new Eden, and that we had to repopulate the world with righteous people,” Ruth argued. “We didn’t know they were unwilling.”

  Around her, people bobbed their heads in agreement.

  “Maybe you had blinders on. Maybe you chose not to see. Whatever the reason, now that the blinders are off and Pastor Bill’s been exposed as a murderer and false prophet, we all have to ask ourselves what Ripper just asked me. What happens now?”

  “We’ve all lost people,” Nicole spoke up. “I was desperate to believe that there was a reason for it all. That God had a plan that would make the suffering worthwhile. Pastor Bill seemed so certain... It was easy to get swept up and to look the other way when things didn’t jibe with what I knew was right.”

  “I understand,” Pastor Derek said. “But the question remains: What happens now?”

  Rebecca stood and wiped Bill’s blood on her skirt. “Let me tell you what happens now. I don’t want to have anything to do with this place without Bill. I’m out of here.”

  Nobody said a word as the former first Eve made her way toward the chapel door.

  “I want to stay here,” Ruth said.

  “Me, too,” a man called.

  “I don’t want to be alone again,” Nicole said. “I think we can rebuild on what we have here, but do it right this time.”

  “Looks like we can leave them to work out the details,” Ripper whispered in my ear. “I wanna put this place behind us.”

  “Yes, please.”

  Ripper strode up to Pastor Derek and extended his hand. “We’re gonna be on our way. Best of luck to you. I hope you can turn the place around.”

  “With God’s help, we will. If you’re ever in these parts again, I hope you’ll stop by and see how we’re doing.”

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk when we were locked up.” I offered the pastor my hand. “It helped.”

  His teeth flashed white when he smiled and squeezed my hand. “I’m glad things worked out for you.”

  “You told me to have faith, but I never saw my happy ending coming. I’m so lucky.” I glanced at Justine, who was still rocking back and forth in Nicole’s arms. “You’ll take care of Justine, won’t you? I mean, she shot Gary, but under the circumstances...”

  “I can’t imagine that Justine poses a threat to anybody else. Nicole and I will keep an eye on her.”

  “Good.”

  Nicole extricated herself from Justine’s arms and hurried up to us.

  “I lost myself for a while.” Tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at her dead husban
d’s friend. “I’m sorry, Ripper.”

  “Hey.” He touched her cheek. “You’re only human. Maybe you got lost, but you found your way back. If you hadn’t helped Hannah escape, I wouldn’t have known to stop the wedding. We’re good, sweetheart.”

  She threw herself into his arms, and he hugged her tight. “Thanks, Ripper.”

  “Would you like to come with us?” I asked. Kyle was the last link to my past. It might be good for both Ripper and Nicole to keep alive a connection to their old lives, a bond with a friend who remembered who they were before the pandemic.

  “No.” She wiped at her eyes, then glanced at Derek. “I think I can make a place for myself here. Do some good.”

  Ripper kissed her forehead. “All right. We might just stop by and check on you all someday.”

  “I’d like that...oh...and Ripper, since I’ll be staying at the camp, if there’s anything you want at the cabin, take it. In fact, take my car. I don’t think I’ll ever want to drive the car I used to carry my boys around in.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. Thanks. Hannah and Levi will need a vehicle.”

  I took both her hands in mine.

  “Bye, Nicole. When it counted, you saved the day. I hope you remember that.”

  Nicole looked alive again, her eyes bright and alert, and her cheeks touched with color.

  “Bye, Kenzie. Be happy.”

  I ran toward the door and threw my arms around Kyle.

  “Never again.” He hugged me back and whispered in my ear “My heart can’t take it, Kenz.”

  “Mine, either.”

  I turned toward Sahdev, uncertain whether I should offer him a hug. He smiled, opened his arms, and I stepped in.

  “Were you hurt?” He pulled back to scan my neck.

  “Nope. This ugly collar was good for something.”

  Over Sahdev’s shoulder, I met the eyes of the grinning teenage boy who had captured Hannah’s heart.

  “Hey, Kenzie. Thanks for helping my girl.”

  He shoved his shaggy, light brown hair back from his forehead, revealing heavy brows over deep-set blue eyes. Not a traditional pretty boy—not like Kyle—Levi had a square jaw, a wide mouth, and a lanky frame. Right now, he was adorable. By the time he was in his late twenties, he’d be devastating.