“What?” I ask.
“Look,” she says. “Between your legs.”
My hand instinctively dives down between, and a bittersweet smile spreads on my lips. “I feel a head.” A panicky, neurotic laugh escapes my mouth. “Hair!”
A contraction hits me out of nowhere, and it’s so painful that I close my eyes and roar out loud like a lioness. The burn is excruciating as the baby turns inside me.
“Just a little more!” my mother says. “It’s almost there!”
I feel the baby coming out, the head first, then the shoulders, and pop! It slips out of me, right into my hands. In complete and utter shock, I pull the baby up to my belly and wrap my arms around its body.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I mutter.
I can’t believe I actually did it. I birthed a baby, and it’s alive.
My mom was right … I could do it.
I could do it all along. I just had to believe in myself.
My mother’s hand sneaks along the side and gently raises the baby’s legs. “Oh! It’s a girl!”
A smile spreads on her face, and I can’t help but cry tears of joy. When her little mouth opens and a tiny cry slips out, my heart flows over with love. So much love … that it makes me forget all the pain and suffering I’ve had to endure to bring her into this world.
Just this little girl … she was worth it all.
Chapter 26
Noah
I’ve been waiting for what feels like hours before the door opens again. It’s Holly, and she looks both cheerful and melancholic at the same time, which unnerves me. “And?”
“Natalie and the baby are safe,” she says, holding her own hands close to her. “But you have to know it was very hard on her, especially given the circumstances.”
I nod but push past her anyway. I have to see her.
She’s lying in bed, and the moment I step inside, all eyes land on me, including hers.
But all I can look at is that beautiful bundle of joy cradled in her arms.
My heart skips a beat.
“It’s a girl,” Natalie says, a smile forming on her lips.
Tears spring into my eyes, and I step closer to look at the little girl in her arms. She’s so beautiful, calmly resting in a tiny blanket hand-woven by one of the other Matriarchs.
“We’ll leave you to rest now,” Abigail says, and she gets up from the bed. “C’mon, ladies. Time to go.”
The ladies nod and exit the room. Marsha’s the last.
“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Marsha says. “I mean it.”
“I’ll be careful,” I reply.
She nods and then leaves, closing the door behind her.
I know I won’t have a lot of time alone with her as I’m sure the guards will come and pick me up once the president realizes his grandchild has been born, but I will make the most of the time we have together right now.
I climb up onto the bed with her and lie beside her, hugging her and our baby tight. “She’s so beautiful, just like her mother.”
“I did it,” she whispers, looking up at me. “I birthed our baby.”
“You did well.” I press a kiss to her forehead.
She sighs out loud and then yawns. “I can’t believe I did all of this …”
I touch her hand, but she’s cold to the touch. “You’re freezing,” I say, and I grab her blanket and pull it over her.
“Put her in the bassinet,” she says, and she gives the little girl to me.
I’m stunned for a second that she’d trust me with her baby, but then again … she’s mine too. My little girl. And the moment that little girl briefly looks into my eyes, only to yawn and smack her lips a second later, I instantly fall in love.
I stare into her eyes and press a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’ll protect you, little one.” And then I place her in the bassinet that’s right beside the bed, made by hand by the people in the community. She’ll be loved by all, I just know it.
I go back to the bed close to Natalie, letting her snuggle up against me. “How do you feel?” I ask.
“Tired,” she says, yawning again. Both the birth and Emmy’s death took an enormous toll on her body.
“Rest a little then,” I say, caressing her hair.
“But what about the people down there? And … Emmy?” She gulps, tears staining her eyes.
“The other patriarchs will take care of it. They always have,” I say. “Don’t think about it … Focus on healing for now.”
I want her to forget about it even though I know what’s really going on downstairs.
While she gave birth, I heard the commotion in the auditorium. People were yelling, angered at the hanging that took place. A girl was killed just to show how powerful the president is, but it won’t be enough to subdue the crowd. Not anymore.
Whatever Natalie did in that dining hut, it changed people. It moved them to fight for something more, and a hanging won’t stop the rage from spreading. It’s only a matter of time.
But I won’t tell her that. I won’t burden her with it. She’s already too tired as is.
When I look down, she’s already closed her eyes. She was deadbeat tired. No wonder.
I press a soft kiss to her forehead before closing my eyes too. After getting caught trying to help my wife, almost getting hanged, and then having a child on top of that, I’m completely beat. And even though I know I’ll be dragged away from her soon and probably put into confinement, at least I can enjoy this moment together with her … for now.
* * *
Natalie
When I wake up, the setting sun breaks through the windows, blinding my view. I get up from the bed, my knees weak and unsteady, but I hold myself together as I walk to the crib to check on the baby.
But as I peer over the edge, my eyes widen, and a visceral scream follows.
“My baby!”
She’s gone.
“Where is she?” I scream, and I look around, but she’s nowhere. And Noah’s gone too. “Noah?!”
With whatever strength I have left in my body, I stumble out of the room and call for help. “Agatha! Someone! Please, help!” I yell.
But no one comes. It’s as if the place has been abandoned. I don’t hear a single sound.
Where is everyone? What’s going on?
“Noah!” I yell, but there’s no response, so I continue walking despite the pain. I push open all the doors to all the rooms, but there’s no one there. Even the patriarchal rooms are empty, and so are the matriarch rooms. What the hell is happening?
Suddenly, a loud thud emanates from one of the other rooms, and I rush to it. There’s a patriarch on the floor … foaming at the mouth. He looks up at me with terror in his eyes, and I gasp in shock.
The hemlock. They must’ve gotten it from their wives.
Shit. Noah!
I spin on my heels and run as fast as I can past all the rooms until I hear someone yelling not too far ahead in Noah’s father’s room.
“Give her to me, now!”
It’s Noah.
I rush to the room and slam the door open, but the scene in front of me makes me come to a screeching halt. His father is holding my baby … and has a crossbow pointed right at Noah.
My eyes widen. “That’s my baby!”
“Natalie,” Noah mumbles in shock. “Stay there.”
“No, give me back my baby,” I yell at his father.
“Don’t get any closer!” the man growls.
“Why?” I mutter.
“You two can’t be trusted,” he says, his hand shaking as he clenches the crossbow tight. “I know about your plans. I know all of it.”
Fear ripples through me, and my heart beats in my throat.
“Please don’t hurt her,” I beg. “Please.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you decided to murder the other patriarchs.”
Panic takes over.
“We didn’t do that,” Noah says. “Their wives did.”
&
nbsp; “Bullshit!” he growls. “Tricia’s not a wife.”
“She’s a daughter, and she hated her father,” I say, trying to reason with him.
“Then what happened to Patrick, huh?” he asks. “Are you going to pretend he didn’t just disappear?”
I swallow hard. “He fell.” I grind my teeth. “Now give me back my baby, or I swear to God—”
“Or you’ll what?” he interjects. “Go to the president? He’s not on your side any longer. In fact, guards will be flooding this place soon as we speak. The whole temple is going on lockdown.”
Noah’s visibly concerned. “What?”
“Like you don’t know. You started this coup,” he spits. “Now get out and close the door behind you.”
“Please, she has nothing to do with this,” I beg. “If you give her back, we’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
“Stupid girl, you think I’m going to let you fools raise my only grandchild?” he barks. “I’ll raise her myself … after I get rid of the two of you.”
He points the crossbow at Noah and pushes off the safety. I squeal in terror as Noah quickly ducks away. I can’t look.
BANG!
What if he’s dead?
Oh God, oh God.
I force myself to open my eyes.
Noah’s wrestling his father, who is trying to grasp a new arrow from the table, and my baby is being held in just one arm.
“No!” I yell, and I quickly rush to them, ignoring the sharp pains in my belly. I punch his father in the back as hard as I can.
Noah grabs ahold of her and quickly shoves her into my arms. “Run!”
I don’t think twice before spinning on my heels and bolting out the door. For just a second, I glance over my shoulder to see Noah and his father fighting over the crossbow, and then I’m gone.
I can’t see what’s happening, but I know they’re fighting to the death and only one of them will win. All I can do is hope and pray it’ll be Noah and not his father because if that man survives, he’ll come after my baby.
I can’t let it happen.
Chapter 27
Natalie
As fast as I can, I rush down the stairs, past a pair of guards lying passed out on the floor, foaming at the mouth. The other matriarchs didn’t just poison their own husbands.
Then I spot Agatha with a cleaver in her hand and a bloodied guard right in front of her on the kitchen floor.
Our eyes connect for a mere second of mutual terror. She smiles … at me.
And she wipes her hands on her apron while tucking a vial of hemlock into her pocket. Then she turns around, as though she’s thinking of coming toward me.
I run.
She can’t be trusted. Not now, when I have my lifeline in my arms. My whole world, snatched away in mere seconds.
I almost lost her.
Just like I lost Emmy.
Tears fill my eyes, but I blink hard. No time to waste on crying. I have to save us both. She won’t survive if I don’t, so I have to keep going, no matter the cost. For Emmy.
Adrenaline fills my veins as I run through the hallway toward the auditorium. There are five bodies lying around the room, and blood spilled everywhere.
What the … hell?
I continue running while trying to ignore the stench. There’s only one other place I know I’ll be safe; Holly’s hut. So I rush to the doors and push the handle. I’m amazed it opens and that it wasn’t locked. Does that mean the temple is compromised? Did someone sneak out a key?
And where the hell are the president and my mother?
One foot outside, and I’m already stunned. People are fighting each other everywhere, men and women, going at each other with knives, pans, axes, anything they can find. Everyone seems to have lost their minds. It’s one giant massacre.
This isn’t what I wanted, what I told them to do … yet their own hatred and rage made them do it anyway.
I swallow away the lump in my throat and start running, trying to ignore the rabid fighting going on around me. I slip through unnoticed, hiding my baby in my robe in the hopes that no one will see her. I take the easy paths, avoiding the brawls as much as I can until I get to Holly’s hut.
I knock. No response. I knock a few more times, but no one opens up, so I push the door handle. It isn’t locked at all, and when I push it open, the entire hut looks to have been raided.
“Holly?” I mutter.
She isn’t there. In fact, no one’s here at all.
I turn around and look at all the other huts, wondering where I should go or who I can ask for help. Everyone’s too busy with themselves, and the entire community has turned into a sparring ground. There’s nowhere left that’s safe.
Except … maybe … the hut where we stayed when we were still all initiates.
Without thinking it over, I run to the hut. I came there so many times before, and I know the route by heart, so I bolt there as fast as I can. No knocking this time. I smash into the door and then come to a full halt.
Holly’s huddled in the corner near the beds with maybe a dozen, no more, children bundled closely together. She looks up in fear, her eyes widening when she sees it’s me.
Then a man appears from the kitchen area.
I hold up my hand, instinct telling me I can’t trust him, and I grab for the first thing in my grasp. A pair of scissors lying on the table next to the door.
“Wait! Don’t,” Holly says. “Please.”
I look at him and then her. He’s holding up his hands, backing away slowly.
“I’m just her husband,” the guy says.
“You can trust him,” Holly adds.
“Why?” I hiss. “Give me one good reason.”
“Because I love him!” she says.
My lips part as I look at her in surprise.
She loves him?
“He’s a good man. Please, he’s not like the others …” she says, rubbing her lips together as she looks at the children, and a pang of guilt strikes me hard.
I’m here looking for safety, and then I’m threatening a guy I don’t know … all because men in this community have taught me they can’t be trusted. This place has done something to me that I don’t like. I don’t want to fear every walking man. I want to believe there are good ones left.
So I lower the scissors and place them back onto the table.
The man visibly eases up and so do I.
“I won’t do anything,” he says. “I won’t harm you.” He glances at my robes. “Or your baby.”
I instinctively wrap myself up more, shielding her.
“You’re different from the others?” I ask, unsure if I can believe it.
“He never hurt me. Not once,” Holly says. “He’s a good guy. I swear.”
“Do you want to come in?” he asks.
I narrow my eyes and take a deep breath. “I just need a place to stay … for now.”
He beckons me. “C’mon. I’ve made tea. The kids were thirsty.”
I close the door behind me and look at all the kids who are gaping at me as if I’m the epitome of danger.
“Their parents are fighting, so I took them in,” Holly says. “I didn’t know where else to go. There were too many. Only this hut was big enough.”
I nod. “It’s my fault.”
She licks her lips. “I guess … it had to happen someday.”
“Will my mommy and daddy survive?” one of the kids asks as they look at her.
I approach them, and they all seem to cower in fear.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you, I promise,” I say.
“But you’re that lady, the one who made all the adults get angry,” one of the other older kids says, and it stings so badly it makes me want to smash my fist into the wall.
This is one thing I didn’t foresee, one thing I never took into account when my mother and I decided to start a revolution. No coup is without those who suffer.
And these kids won’t know if their parents survive until it�
��s too late.
I started this revolt with the best in mind … but did I make the right choice?
* * *
Noah
In one fell swoop, I punch my father in the nose so hard his face tilts back, and I twist his arm, causing it to snap. He growls in pain as I steal away the crossbow he just put an arrow in and I shoot.
BAM!
Right in the leg.
He howls out loud. “You son of a bitch! You shot me!”
I quickly reach for the last remaining arrow lying on the table and tuck it into the crossbow. Then I point it straight at his heart. “No one touches my kid!”
“You idiot! You think you can handle that bitch? That she’d listen to you? Bullshit! She’s just like your mother, an insufferable witch that doesn’t listen to her husband’s commands!” he growls. “I’m the only one who can ever take care of this family!”
My nostrils flare. “I should’ve done this a long time ago.”
BAM!
One more shot to put him out of his misery.
The arrow enters his chest, and he sinks down onto the floor like a bag of rotten potatoes. I feel nothing. No sadness, no happiness. Just a vapid sense of victory, whatever the fuck that means.
My father killed my mother, and now I killed him too.
That makes me a murderer, just like him.
But she didn’t deserve to die … he did.
There’s a sudden scream, and I turn around.
That sounded like … Marsha.
I throw down the crossbow and rush out the door, ignoring the painful sprain in my leg that I endured at my father’s hands. I focus on the sound of her screams and peer over the balustrade. Then I see her, running out of the women’s room, heading straight for the auditorium.
The president appears from the kitchen and in his hand a thick butcher’s knife.
Fuck.
I run downstairs as quickly as I can.
“Marsha? Where are you?” he growls out loud, trailing the hallways. “I know you’re in here somewhere, you treacherous snake!”
When he moves into the study, I quickly pass the door and run underneath the stairs, into the auditorium.
I’m met by a chair being held up against my face. Marsha’s panicky eyes home in on me, and as I turn my face, she breathes out loud. “Fuck.”
Beyond His Control Page 19