by L E Fraser
They waited in tense silence and then Sylvia whispered, “He’s coming. He’s close now. I feel him. We can’t stay here.”
“I’m so scared.” Mandy grasped her hand. “Why did we do this? We shouldn’t have done this.” Hysteria laced her voice and she was gasping for breath.
“We’re going to be okay,” Sylvia promised. “The road is at the top of the escarpment.” She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and it was sticky with bloody mucus. She was thankful that the darkness camouflaged her injuries. She was not okay and knew she didn’t have much time left.
She removed the tie to her robe and shivered when cold air rippled against her naked flesh. She made a slipknot at each end of the rope, gliding one circle over her injured hand. The rough hemp caught the torn nail and ripped it free from her finger. The intensity of the pain made her cry out.
“Sylvia?” Mandy whimpered, with a pitiful hitch in her young voice.
Fumbling to find Mandy’s hand, Sylvia secured the other slipknot around her wrist and squeezed the girl’s hand. Now the rope connected them for better or for worse. As the clouds parted and the half moon looked down on them, they ran.
* * *
JB WATCHED MUSSANI light a cigarette, and the misshapen flame from the lighter bobbed in the wind. The moonlight turned his dark eyes into mirrors that reflected the cigarette ember. A reddish orange dot glowed in the middle of the pools of darkness in his face. JB turned away, alarmed by what he glimpsed in the disembodied eyes.
“Whatcha wanna do?”
Mussani took a deep drag from the cigarette, and the red ember shone again in his eyes. JB shuddered and dropped his gaze to the ground.
Father Mussani nonchalantly leaned against the front grill of the Jeep. His tone was calm and melodic when he said, “We wait.”
Toeing the gravel at the side of the road, JB tried to emulate his companion’s casual stance but his brow broke out in perspiration, and the pits of his chambray work shirt were sticky with sweat. Unable to endure the darkness and silence, he asked, “What if th-th-they don’t c-c-come this way?”
Mussani flicked the burning cigarette into the woods. “They’ll come.”
“Could head s-s-south,” JB suggested.
“To the lake?”
He felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “C-c-could have a b-b-boat,” he stuttered, ashamed of the difficulty he had in spitting out the four miserable words.
Father Mussani ignored the stuttering, and gratitude washed over JB. Father never commented on the speech impediment or suggested the stutter meant he was stupid.
Mussani pulled a flask from the inside pocket of his ceremonial robe, unscrewed the top, and put the bottle to his lips. The smell of whisky tainted the wind. He didn’t offer the flask, and JB didn’t expect him to.
The road was north, the lake was south, the valley was east, and the woods were west. The sanctuary farmland ran between, with its buildings along the east border beside the valley. As usual, Mussani was right. The sisters would walk north to civilization, but they’d have to travel through the acres of woods that hugged the road. There were no paths through the thick brush and mature trees, and they’d need to climb a steep escarpment to reach the road. JB didn’t think they could negotiate the trek without light. It had been raining for a week, and the forest ground was slick and treacherous. At least one of the sisters had a serious injury. A shiver of shame scurried along JB’s spine.
“W-w-what should we do when they g-g-get here?” he asked.
“She has lost the vision. If possible, she will transcend. That’s the only way to achieve self-realization.”
“She’s my friend.” JB pulled at the crotch of his pants, a nervous habit his father had beat him for when he was a kid. He’d tried to stop but he couldn’t. One of the reasons he’d joined Bueton Sanctuary was because people didn’t laugh at him over his bad habit, his stutter, or the birthmark that scarred his right temple.
“She’s a sister and has broken the oath. Are you questioning the Creed?” Mussani asked.
The clouds broke apart, and the silver crest of the half moon winked. For just a moment, the moonlight illuminated Mussani’s face. What JB saw in those dark eyes made him look to the ground and exhale a single puff of fear.
With his head lowered submissively and his hands clasped tightly against his chest, he said, “I’d never disobey the Creed.” Although shamed by his quivering voice, he was proud that his passion had empowered him to speak the words without stumbling over the first syllable. Feeling doubt and confusion, JB gazed up at the heavens to hunt for a star to wish upon, but there were none.
* * *
SYLVIA HAD MANAGED to lead Mandy north along the irrigation tracks, so crossing the acres of fields was easy. The orchard had been tricky. When they hit the woods that crested the land, they were both confused about what direction they were going. If they fell off course, and Mussani sent out the dogs, the animals would tear them apart. The road was their only hope.
Mandy had stopped crying, a small mercy for which Sylvia was grateful. The trouble she was having breathing, the unsecured robe, and the freezing temperature had forced her to slow to a shuffling trudge, but the gentle tug on the rope indicated that Mandy was still moving behind her.
As she towed the terrified adolescent, Sylvia accepted she’d made a terrible mistake. What she was putting the girl through was worse than the initiation ceremony would have been. Her decision to take Mandy and run, without a plan to ensure they escaped, was stupid. If he caught them, he’d kill her and, although he probably wouldn’t kill his pet, Mandy would pay a high price. There was no turning back. She had to get the girl to safety.
The half moon’s light in the cloudy sky was now stingy, and the frigid wind was merciless. Their feet were bare, and the escarpment was becoming harder to climb. In places, they had to crawl in single file. At a spot where they could walk upright, she shoved aside jagged branches and held her arms behind her to try to keep the sharp twigs from slapping Mandy’s face. Each time she stumbled, Mandy grasped the loose fabric of her open robe and pushed on her back to steady her. Under the indifferent eye of the moon, they slowly ascended the steep hill.
She turned to glance over her shoulder, slipped in a puddle of mud, and lost her balance. She grasped at the trees in an effort not to fall back down the hill. With a startled cry, Mandy’s hands pawed and pushed at her back to try to balance her. Sylvia swayed for a moment and then pitched backwards, rolling over Mandy and sliding downhill. Dragged by the tethering rope, Mandy tumbled after her and crushed Sylvia’s face into the moist, decaying leaves.
A rainbow of light exploded in front of Sylvia’s closed eyes. She could feel the warmth of her blood streaming down her chin, and her mouth filled with the coppery taste. Every time she tried to breathe, there was a crackling sound in her chest. She felt like she was drowning, and the night air tasted metallic. She was certain one of her broken ribs had punctured her lung. If she died in the woods, Mandy wouldn’t make it out. They had to get to the road. She fought against the pain and focused on Mandy’s hysterical yelps.
“Get off,” she whispered, forcing the two words from her bruised lips.
The girl pathetically whimpered, and her breath was hot and wet against Sylvia’s neck.
“Get off,” she grunted.
Mandy rolled over and the tethering rope stretched taut across Sylvia’s back. They lay together on the cold ground. Above them, the moon slithered beneath a cloud. The darkness was a black velvet blindfold. In that moment, Sylvia knew God had finally turned His back. He was showing them their destiny, and it was hell.
* * *
JB TRIED TO keep track of time by the number of cigarettes Father Mussani smoked. Ten minutes was the average time to smoke one, and Father had puffed on five. He figured there were about thirty minutes between butts, so that meant they had waited at the side of the road for nearly three hours.
JB wished he had the sense to leav
e. He had nowhere to go. He wished he had the courage to save Sylvia. He knew he did not. He sensed Mussani coming into his space and took a small, involuntary step back.
“Problem, JB?” The voice came from his immediate right.
“I was wondering b-b-bout the ceremony.”
“Why?”
He struggled to stay immobile, hoping Mussani couldn’t smell his fear. “H-h-how can she be initiated?”
“She’ll be initiated here.”
“What about the w-w-witnesses?”
“Two, Brother, we only need two,” remarked Mussani.
JB asked the question that had nagged at him ever since Mussani’s second cigarette. “Who will g-g-guide Sylvia?”
Father didn’t answer. His silence spoke volumes to JB.
“I c-c-can’t. Sh-sh-she’s my friend.”
Several moments elapsed before Mussani spoke in a slow, even pitch. “You’ve been initiated, Brother, and cleansed to guide the metamorphosing of the worthy. Sister Sylvia is a traitor.”
JB remained still and silent at the side of his Messiah.
“Are you questioning the Creed and the ordinances, which you swore had saved your miserable soul? Don’t you believe that the doctrines of our existence are absolute loyalty, confidentiality, and—”
“And obedience,” JB interrupted, anxious to redeem himself in the eyes of his mentor. He felt sweat trickle to the loose waist of his sackcloth pants.
“And obedience,” Mussani agreed. His voice filled with enthusiasm, “Look, Brother, a shooting star!”
* * *
“SYLVIA, LOOK A shooting star!” Mandy’s voice sounded so young and innocent. “Wishes come true on shooting stars. Make a wish, quick before the tail fades.”
Sylvia tried to focus on the star blurring and flashing before her eyes. She wished for Mandy to make it to safety. Her eyes rolled, and she opened her mouth to let the bloody saliva run from the corner of her swollen lips. She placed her palms on the ground and pushed her broken body to its knees. Agony exploded in her chest, forcing her to bite hard on her lip to keep from screaming. She tucked one foot underneath her and stood.
“Come on, Mandy. Road, over the hill.”
“Did you make a wish?” Mandy asked as she stood up and followed along behind.
“I made a wish,” Sylvia agreed and closed her eyes against the tears.
* * *
FROM THE DARKNESS, JB heard them. He knew they were very close, but he couldn’t see them. Sister Sylvia was advising Mandy to stay in the ditch, and her voice was thick and wet sounding. He heard her pain, and it made the hair rise on his neck.
Mussani ignored them and continued to lean against the front bumper of the Jeep. He was merely waiting, like a lion carefully stalking its prey. After several motionless moments, he reached into the Jeep and switched on the headlights.
In response, JB heard Mandy cry out, “Sylvia, I see a car!”
They watched in silence as she crawled up the ditch, standing at the top to wave her arms. A frayed piece of braided hemp circled her right wrist.
Mussani slid through the darkness to the girl. “Find the other one.”
JB reluctantly jumped into the ditch, walking ten metres before his boot hit something solid. He carefully slung Sylvia across his shoulder and trudged up the steep slope to the road where Mussani waited.
“Move her by the tree and wake her.”
JB lowered his friend to the ground, and, from the corner of his eye, he saw Mussani take Mandy’s hand. She blinked and shaded her eyes from the glare of the car’s lights but stood silent and still. Her eyes widened with horror when she looked from Mussani to Sylvia, who was now visible in the harsh light.
JB propped Sylvia against the thick trunk of an elm tree and groped for her hand. She tensed at his touch but didn’t open her eyes. He pinched her arm and wept.
His pinch drew her back to consciousness, and she struggled to stand before giving up and slumping weakly against the tree trunk.
He studied her in the harsh light from the Jeep. Her lower teeth and gums were visible through a gaping tear in her lip. Pink foam coated her lips and dark blood stained her chin. It had flowed down her neck to pool in the hollows of her collarbones. Her left eye was black and swollen closed. Blood covered the hand he held, and one of her fingernails was missing.
Her head slowly turned toward him, and recognition flickered in her eyes. They’d been friends and lovers, and he could tell she believed he’d betrayed her.
JB grasped her hand hard and tears dripped down his cheeks. “I d-d-didn’t t-t-tell. He knew.”
“It wasn’t her fault,” she whispered. “Swear you’ll protect her.” She gasped for breath. “Swear you’ll get her home to her sister.”
He turned away from her and stared at the dismal scene in front of the Jeep. Mandy was sprawled on her back against the gravel, with her robe around her neck in concertina folds. Her young, lustrous skin was translucent in the cruel white light from the Jeep. Mussani knelt before the girl, anointing her trembling flesh with the initiation oil, pinching her nipples and forcing her legs apart. He grabbed her hips, thrusting himself inside her. Mandy’s screams cut JB’s heart. He covered his ears to block out the terrifying cries. After a few minutes, Mussani violently turned her to her stomach, grabbed her around the waist and pushed himself inside her from behind, pressing her naked body against the sharp stones on the road. She was no longer screaming, and JB prayed she was unconscious. He dropped his hands from his ears and held tightly to Sylvia’s hand, averting his eyes from the brutality he’d vowed to witness.
Sylvia raised her head to the heavens. “Lord, we are still your children. Why have you abandoned us?” The light faded from her eyes. Her broken body drooped to the ground.
A bolt of lightning lit the sky, and a single star, lonely in solitude, twinkled in the darkness. JB watched the star blink once and twice, and then it vanished like an angel’s tear.
When Mussani completed the initiation ceremony, JB stood and went to the Jeep. He felt sick to his stomach, and his skin was crawling with goosebumps. Mussani tightened the gold, braided rope around his thick waist, lit a cigarette, and smiled.
“What about h-h-h-her?” JB nodded toward the dead woman sprawled at the base of the giant elm. He swallowed the sour saliva gathering in his mouth and wiped the back of his hand against the clammy sweat on his forehead.
Mussani unscrewed his flask of whisky. He took a long drink and shrugged.
JB swallowed hard and let grief wash over him. Sylvia had never teased or rejected him. For the first time since joining the life at Bueton, he felt doubt.
As if aware of his disloyal thoughts, Mussani laid his arm across his shoulders. They stood together in the artificial light from the Jeep’s headlights.
“It’s sad,” Mussani said, and his expression showed deep sympathy. “Her death was an accident, Brother. The woods are dangerous and off limits.”
“There w-w-was blood on her l-l-lips.”
“Sylvia was a traitor. Brother, hold tight to your faith and remember that not everyone is worthy of rising to the next level.”
Mussani flicked the cigarette toward the Jeep, and the smoldering filter fell on Mandy’s grubby robe. She crawled across the road toward her Messiah, guttural whimpers tearing from her throat. She reached for him.
He grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. “My poor child, look at how betrayed you were by Sister Sylvia. Come, it’s time for you to go home.” He was smiling, but JB saw no kindness in the expression.
JB turned his back and went around the front of the Jeep to the passenger door. “I swear,” he whispered to the wind.
With a final glance at his lover’s dead body slouching against the giant elm tree, JB climbed into the Jeep and closed his eyes.
Amazon – Simon Says, Perdition Games
Kobo – Simon Says, Perdition Games
Barnes and Noble – Simon Says, Perdition Games
iBooks – Simon Says, Perdition Games
Don't miss out!
Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever L.E. Fraser publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.
https://books2read.com/r/B-A-XDTB-LNYJ
Connecting independent readers to independent writers.