by Riley Flynn
“You weren’t wandering, Alex. You move with a purpose, even if you don’t know it. God brought you here, his invisible hand guiding you. There’s always a reason.”
“God had nothing to do with it.” Alex didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help himself from speaking. It was the way Levine grinned. A disarming smile, banishing any worry or concern. It compelled people to speak, even when they knew they should keep quiet.
“I’m sure he did,” Levine said. “Why else would he have brought you to such a paradise? To Athena? To Eden on Earth? He’s led you to salvation, Alex.”
It was all Alex could do not to laugh.
“Ahh…” Levine circled around Alex, titling his head slightly. “Maybe I know why. You’re not new here. You know this town.”
“I’ve never been here before,” Alex lied. The less information Levine had about him, the better.
Levine circled around again and stopped in front of Alex, scrutinizing his face.
He knows I lied. He can tell.
“No,” Levine spoke slowly, “I don’t think so.”
“I was heading to Florida.” Alex decided to dive head first into the lie. “For the winter.”
“Then you certainly have no idea of what has been happening in Florida. No, my son, you are returning to this town.”
Alex felt a tickle in the back of his throat. A prickle of fear. Worry. Levine could tell he was lying. Time to find a different approach.
“I’ve never lived in Athena.” That much was true. “Used to know someone who did. I was checking in.”
“We watched your car, Alex. I must say, since you’re not a native, you have a remarkable knowledge of the streets. You went straight to that house. Not the center of the town. Not to us. Not to the church. But straight to a certain house.”
Christ, Alex thought to himself. He’s been watching. Levine knew all this. But how much did he know? People must have been watching ever since the car pulled into the outskirts of Athena.
He’s testing me. Trying to find out how much I’ll tell him. How much I’ll lie.
“Honestly,” Alex smiled back, fighting fire with fire. “I’ve never lived here. I knew someone, once. She’s gone now.”
“There seems to me something more.” Levine tapped one of the nails against his chin. Rusty and sharp, Alex saw. It could easily be a weapon. “Something you’re not telling me.”
Nothing was working. Alex tried silence. He kept his mouth shut.
“There’s something more. Perhaps you’re not from here. Near here? You haven’t travelled far. You have no supplies. No food. There’s local plates on your car, it’s been taken from nearby. There’s very little dust on the wheels. It hasn’t driven far. Neither have you.”
Alex stayed silent.
“There’s nothing that can be hidden from God, you know.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide.” Alex couldn’t help himself. Instantly, he regretted the words. A sinking feeling was beginning to envelop him, so suddenly finding himself comprehensively out of his depth. This wasn’t just running and punching and trying to escape. This was deeper than that.
Levine was operating on a spiritual plane and Alex was struggling to keep up. Should never have left the farm, Alex thought. Should have listened to Joan and Timmy and Cam. Even Krol. Christ, I need to get out of here.
Levine was examining him, turning his head this way and that. With a nail in his hand, he pushed it against Alex’s chin, twisting his head to catch the light coming in through the stable door.
“What if I were to say the name ‘Krol’ to you?”
Alex didn’t react. It took all the effort in the world to keep his muscles from twitching, to keep his face as flat as possible. Too flat, he realized. No reaction can be the most telling sign of all. Levine smiled.
“Ah, so there we have it. One of Krol’s minions.”
“No.” Alex spoke forcefully. He didn’t need to lie. “I’m not.”
“Yes, one of his lackeys. I can see it now.”
“I don’t associate with Krol. Not ever.”
“Has he sent you here to spy on us?”
Levine was only a few inches from Alex, the nail still pushing into the flesh of the chin. Any harder and it would burst through and draw blood.
“Did he send you here to watch us? Do you work for him?”
“I’m here for myself. I don’t work for anyone.”
The smile had fallen from Levine’s face.
“The Lord works in mysterious ways, Alex.”
“Krol doesn’t.”
The pressure behind the nail lessened. Levine actually laughed.
“Ah, so do I detect a note of distrust? Perhaps you are aware of his true nature. The man is a menace, Alex.”
“You know him?” It seemed easy to state the obvious. But some words had to be said.
“Alex, my son. I am intimately familiar with Mr. Krol.”
“How?”
“Now that, Alex, would be telling. And after you have hidden so much from me.”
“But you know Krol?” Levine wanted to talk, Alex could sense it. This was all a game to him.
“There are so few souls left in the world, such a terrible man would never be able to escape my attention. Yes, Alex. I know this man.”
Levine and Krol. Alex could not imagine the two of them talking, meeting, or even occupying the same space. But here he was, stuck in the middle of two rocks and wishing for a hard place.
“Tell me, Alex.” Levine almost skipped around the stables now. “How is Mr. Krol these days?”
“If you knew him at all, you’d know he won’t change. Ever.”
Levine laughed, almost a giggle. The glee on his face was clear. With a free hand, the pastor began to rub a thumb up and down on his gold crucifix.
“Yes, yes! Now I am sure you know him. Now this is so incredibly interesting. I am delighted that Mr. Krol remains his obstinate, wretched self, even in these interesting times.”
Quietly, Alex noticed the phrase. Interesting times. He catalogued it, made sure to remember it later.
“How did you know him?”
With Levine seemingly so happy, Alex felt confident that he could get the man to talk. He was almost begging to be asked about Krol.
“Oh my. Oh my, yes. I have spent a great deal of time with him. But I had no idea that he was attracting new followers. I would never have thought him capable. I can’t begin to imagine how he does it.”
“I’m not a follower.”
“Was it his dashing good looks?” Levine approached Alex, his smile broad and thin. “His charming personality? Are you alone among Krol’s people?”
“Krol has his people, I have mine.”
Even as the words escaped his mouth, Alex knew he had misspoke. Levine’s demeanor stayed the same. His smile widened.
“Ah, so you have people of your own.”
Lying didn’t work. But stories about Krol seemed to keep the pastor in good spirits. Alex tried to steer the conversation back to more comfortable waters.
“I have friends. Not people. I don’t know about Krol.”
“I would be so very interested in meeting them, Alex. Your friends. We are a very broad church, here.”
“I don’t think we need your help. Thank you.”
“And yet you seem to be shacked up with Krol.”
“I never said we were –”
“But where else would you be? Out there on that farm. How lonely.”
“That’s not true.” The lie was more for Alex’s benefit than Levine’s.
“We have comforts here, Alex. Plenty of them. Food. Medicine. Men. Women. Supplies enough to see you through the season. Everything a growing boy needs.”
Alex remembered walking through the compound. The people had looked well fed. They’d smiled. They certainly seemed to enjoy life with Pastor Dan. Maybe living here wouldn’t be so bad? Better than Krol, perhaps.
But what about his friends? Alex felt a surge of l
onging, climbing up from the bottom of his belly. He just wanted to see them again. He needed to apologize. He’d been so incredibly stupid.
The idea didn’t last more than half a second. There was no way Alex could leave his home – his own home – to come and live with Levine.
“Thank you for the offer,” he began, “but I couldn’t leave my friends–”
“Bring them.” Levine almost snapped the words.
“–I can’t tell them–”
“I can tell them.”
Levine’s eyes were burning. A fierce intensity, staring directly into Alex’s soul. Where Krol’s eyes were deep, passive abysses, the Pastor’s glare glowered and scorched like the sun.
“I can pass along the offer.”
Alex tried to move for the stable door. It was open. It was time to leave. Levine stepped in front of him, smiling.
“Yes. Alex, you must. Invite them. We welcome anyone and everyone here.”
With the light behind him, Levine’s face darkened. He hunched, leaning over Alex, his breath warm and close.
“Alex, my friend. This is a beautiful day. The latest in a long line of beautiful days. The Lord has truly blessed us. If you ever want to make your life easier, if you ever want to bask in the beauty of God, then all you have to do is ask. Bring your friends. Heck, you can even bring Krol. I’m sure he would be happy to see me again.”
All Alex could do was nod.
And then, Levine stepped back. He moved away from Alex, toward the door of the stables. With the sun outside, the man’s figure was silhouetted. Just as he was about to disappear, he paused. He turned.
“One more thing, Alex. If you do insist on living out on that cold, horrid farm with Krol, simply ask him one question: what happened to the people who came before him?”
“Who?” Alex felt his curiosity pulling hard at his thoughts. Did Levine mean Eames? Other people on the farm? “There were people on the farm before him?”
“Just the one person, as far as I am aware. One too many, it seems. Just a thought.”
Alex felt guilty. He’d hardly thought about Eames since returning to Virginia. So much had been happening, he hadn’t had time to spare a thought for his old friend. In the back of his mind, he’d assumed the man had fled after the outbreak or had been caught up in it all the same. It had been too painful to talk to the man in the ten years since his parents’ deaths, even solving the mystery of the man’s whereabouts was a raw and unwelcome prospect.
He thought about Eames in the past tense, Alex realized. He’d never thought about why.
Levine was leaving. The door was open. No one was trapping Alex.
“Wait,” Alex called out. “I can just leave?”
That same old Levine chuckle, so charming.
“Why, of course, Alex. What did you think, that we were going to kidnap you?” The laugh was almost infectious. “You thought that… I cannot imagine what you must think of me. How embarrassing.”
Alex shuffled on his feet, looking for the exit. He certainly hadn’t felt free to leave at any time.
“I’ll tell you what, Alex. How about a peace offering? A little token of my hospitality? An apology, even.”
Leaning out of the stable door, Levine called for Steve. The sound of footsteps grew louder.
“Stephen, my good man. Would you please show our friend here to the store? Alex, why don’t you take something for your friends? Or yourself. Anything. My treat. We have so much and you – I assume – have so little.”
Before waiting for an answer, Levine left the stable, vanishing into the burning light of the late afternoon sun, leaving behind his gilded words and a sense of unease.
Face full of cheer, Steve walked Alex through the compound. They ventured around a different way this time, passing the town hall. The windows had been boarded up and the doors sealed, much like every other building which intruded through the fence.
The store was a long, metal shed. Levine was right. The Instruments of the Passion, as they called themselves, were well prepared for winter. Their store room was full, packed with everything a person might need. Not just the essentials, but luxuries, too.
“Help yourself, friend. Anything you can carry.”
Alex walked down past the shelves. The church people must have taken all of this from every shop and house in Athena. He saw candy and soda cans. Dog food and toilet paper. He had too much choice. Anything he wanted.
He looked around. What should he take? He could take food. Medicine. Alex knew he wouldn’t be able to carry that much. Perhaps he should take something back for other people. They’re going to be annoyed, he thought. Maybe a peace offering is important. Something to say he’d chosen the farm over Levine’s compound.
But there were too many choices. Shiny wrappers. Familiar brands. All screaming at him. Choose me. Choose me. Choose me.
It was almost too much. But then, Alex smiled. He saw it. He knew.
Alex picked up the pack of diapers. Decent ones, too. They looked expensive. Right next to a rattle, a real one.
“I’ll take these.” He took them all, as well as pocketing a pacifier still in the packaging.
“Oh yeah?” The smile never left Steve’s face. “For a friend?”
“Something like that.”
“Great choices. Great choices.”
They began to leave. Alex, his hands filled with rattling loot, stopped.
“Wait.” He juggled the diapers into one hand. “This too.”
Alex picked up the candy bar. A snickers.
“Great choice. Great choice.”
Then, they left. Alex didn’t want to ask any more questions. He had hundreds. The pillars of smoke. The church. Levine. But he didn’t want to ask Steve. Something about the man made his skin crawl.
They arrived back at the entrance. The guard post. Alex recognized the man he’d taken the pistol from, the man who’d kicked the bruises into his arm. Rather than fury and scorn, the man smiled and waved. All the guards did.
Right outside the gate, Alex found his car. Kate jumped out of the driver’s side, jingling the keys.
“Hello, friend!” she cooed. “We topped it off for you! Plenty of gas.”
“Err… thanks?” Alex took the keys and put the diapers on the front seat. He started the engine.
“Don’t be a stranger!” Kate waved and smiled. Everyone smiled. Alex drove away, watching them wave in his rear-view mirror, wondering why they’d let him get away so easily. He got the hell out of town, as quick as the car would carry him, before they changed their minds.
17
It didn’t take long to drive out of Athena and back to the farm. Alex had buckled the diapers into the passenger’s seat and chewed on the snickers bar with his wrist balanced on top of the wheel. He had too many questions in his head.
Levine. Krol. Eames. Athena. All of the strands tangled together in some terrible knot. Alex picked at the frayed edges, trying to make sense of it all. With such a long list of regrets, he was still finding space for more. He’d gotten a present for Joan – a peace offering – but he had nothing for the others. Perhaps the baby’s silence would be enough for them, providing the pacifier did its job.
As he arrived back at the farm, the sun had almost set. He drove all the way up the track, ditching the car just before the courtyard. There was no one there. He’d expected to be stopped. No welcoming party, waiting to greet him. Just silence instead.
Alex knew what he had to do. It meant moving fast.
The door clattered as Alex threw it open. He went straight for the stairs. The first room was empty, as was the hallway. They were all sitting in the kitchen, eating. Timmy stood up, called something.
Blustering through, Alex ignored the conversation. Reni and Nelson scrambled around for their masks. Jenna dived out of his way.
Alex made straight for the stairs.
He took them two at a time. When he arrived in the hallway at the top of the stairs, he stopped and knocked three
times. Behind him, he knew the others were gathering into a crowd. He knew Timmy would be elbowing his way to the front. But it didn’t matter right now.
“Come in.” Joan’s voice. She sounded tired. Already, Alex could hear the baby crying.
Turning the door handle, Alex trailed the diapers behind him as he walked in. Joan was propped up in bed, her baby clutched to her chest.
Alex didn’t wait. He laid the diapers on the end of the bed, fished out the rattle and the pacifier and placed them next to the mother and her child.
“Alex! What? Where did you get these? What happened–”
“I told you I’d find a pacifier, Joan. The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
Without another word, he turned and left the room.
Alex headed straight for the stairs again. As he skipped down the steps, the gathered crowd split ahead of him like the Red Sea before Moses. No one wanted to come near him. Not without a disinfectant bath. Not without a word from Krol first.
Again, no time to stop and answer questions. Keep them guessing. Keep them interested.
Alex went straight to Krol’s study. The small pantry. People trailed out behind him. They couldn’t stop watching. Time to give them a bit of spectacle.
The sound of the knuckles knocking against the wood echoed through the house. Alex didn’t wait this time. He walked straight in.
The room was dark, lit by the dying thread of a thin candle in the corner. Krol was kneeling beside his desk. He was praying, Alex thought to himself.
Krol rose up to his full height. Rather than scrabbling to stand up, he seemed to unfold, the shadows from the candle light throwing monstrous shapes on the pantry wall.
Alex didn’t want to get distracted. He had the momentum. He had the energy. He had to make it pay.
“We need to talk.”
Krol just nodded, lowering himself into the uncomfortable chair at the desk. Alex stayed on his feet.
“Now. We’re going to talk right now.”
Two tiny black eyes. So hard to read. Alex pressed on, determined.
“I don’t trust you.” Keep the facts simple. “I don’t trust you at all, Krol.”
“I know.” Cold words which came from a thousand miles away. Krol hardly moved.