Fall of Adam

by Rusty Ellis

  Chase returned to the living room and found Megan sitting on the end of the sofa. He went into the hall closet and grabbed a blanket and laid it over her. She pulled the corners up tight around her neck and tucked her legs and feet under her on the cushions. Chase sat on the opposite side of the sofa and faced her.

  “Sometimes Adam takes the girls with him to the Enlightenment Circle,” she said matter-of-fact.

  Chase listened and waited for her to continue.

  “Now that I’m gone, he’s back to eleven girls. He has to have twelve, it’s his thing. The only way to do that is to draft another girl from the Enlightenment Circle when he finishes his sermon.”

  “So his focus will be on finding a replacement for you, not so much putting on a performance for the other eleven,” Chase said.

  “That makes sense. That means they would leave Haley and the other girls at the Garden for about an hour.”

  “That’s my window, then. Popov will be with Adam at the circle. He’ll leave someone else to guard the cabin and the girls.”

  “Don’t you think they’ll have more men at the Garden, in case you come back?” Megan looked up, a concerned look in her eye.

  “No. They don’t have any reason to believe I’m coming back. Like you said, Adam should be focusing on finding another girlfriend. To get back to his twisted version of business-as-usual.”

  “Chase?”

  Chase looked up to meet Megan’s eyes.

  “You gotta get my little girl back…”

  “James to Popov.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Coming in.”

  “Roger, that,” Popov said and watched the edge of the clearing for James to appear.

  James stepped out of the woods, another file folder in his hand, followed by Martin and Thomas. He looked at each man, their rifles strapped to their chests and in the low-ready position, and pointed toward opposite sides of the Garden. The men split up and disappeared around opposite corners of the cabin. James stepped up onto the porch and took his previous seat next to Viktor.

  “What did you find?” Viktor said as James handed him the file.

  The tab on the file read: “Andersen, Haley”.

  “Harper’s niece. Megan’s daughter,” James said without emotion.

  Viktor flipped open the file and skimmed the pages. A color copy of a driver’s license was near the top. He looked at the picture and recognized the girl. One of the Twelve, but more importantly, one of the two.

  Viktor kept up with the most basic of Adam’s little traditions. Adam attached the word “Holy” and “Celebration” to anything above and beyond. Another way for him to elevate even the most mundane, or to blur his twisted and perverse actions. Just add the words to the front and it was like saying abracadabra before pulling off your trick; a good trick and the right words always wowed the Community.

  Adam always held out two girls to coincide with major religious celebrations. With “celebrations” being defined by Adam. Adam used the two events to build up a weird momentum, a religious gift to himself. Viktor gave up making sense of the twisted road map long ago. His only concerns were the simple instructions from Adam regarding the hierarchy of the girls and their positions in the house—and their safety. He was simply keeping track of the pieces on the chessboard. Each piece had their own, specialized use and movement.

  “Isn’t she one of the two?” James asked.

  “Yeah, something like that,” Viktor answered and continued to look through the file.

  Notes on the girl showed she came to the Community with a boyfriend. The boyfriend skipped out two days after Adam chose her.

  A true believer, Viktor mused at the boyfriend’s quick departure.

  A note was written in pencil just below her name on the file tab, “Lammas Day - The Feast of the First Fruits. Aug 1 - Sep 1.”

  Adam had the girl earmarked for between August 1st and September 1st. The month-long reference gave Adam the convenience of filling any gaps he may encounter with the other girls. It was like a shelf-life for dairy goods in your refrigerator—best if used by…

  And gauging from her expiration date, she hadn’t been called upon yet.

  “So he’ll be coming back for her,” James said. “And I doubt he’ll wait very long, especially with her mother in his ear.”

  Viktor grinned and added, “Agreed. So, we need to make sure and welcome him properly this time. After all, it’s officially his first full-day of employment with us.”

  61

  The glowing sun chased away the prior night’s shadows. The temperature began to climb as Chase made his way toward the eastern corner of the property once again. With no need to play the sensor spoofing game, he maneuvered as close to the cabin as he could without initially triggering the sensors. He wore his work uniform—black polo, black pants, black boots. Though the solid colors worked as a magnet to the sun’s rays and the rising heat, the uniform had its benefits. If staff spotted him, they may not immediately register it was him. And he would take any extra moments of hesitation and non-action he could get.

  Chase looked through his field binoculars at the cabin—no movement. He studied the tree line for staff members, taking a hard look near the route he and Martin had taken the day before—nothing.

  Chase held the binoculars in front of his face and peeked down at his watch—8:50 a.m. If everything was operating on schedule, Adam would leave any minute to head down to the Enlightenment Circle to preach his sermon and find another girl to complete his stable, or harem, or whatever else it qualified as.

  He looked back through his binoculars and saw movement. The front door opened and Chase could see a security staff member step onto the porch. Chase focused the optics a touch more… Popov. Chase waited as Popov moved to the side, giving room for another man to step out… Adam.

  The day’s schedule appeared to be in normal flow. Popov would accompany Adam to the circle and stay while Adam preached his sermon and selected his new girl. Popov would then accompany them both back to the Garden. Simple.

  Chase watched as Adam stepped to the side and two girls stepped out onto the porch next to him. Adam hugged each one of them. An excited stream of girls then exited the doorway to stand on the porch, surrounding Adam in a semi-circle. Popov led the way and walked down the porch steps. Adam followed Popov and the group of giddy girls scampered down the stairs to the clearing and surrounded Adam.

  “No, no, no… come on,” Chase gritted his teeth at the sight of the girls in tow, following Adam.

  He watched through his binoculars as Adam emerged from the center of the group. He turned and faced them and raised his hands, waving them back toward the Garden. The cluster of girls reluctantly backed away toward the cabin, looks of disappointment on several faces as he turned them away, as if they were told they couldn’t go to the movies last minute, or go to a concert of some sort.

  Chase looked for Popov and found the man standing on the edge of the clearing next to the trail leading to the circle. As Adam approached, Chase could see Popov reach up and speak into his radio mic before following Adam onto the trail and out of sight.

  Chase turned back to the girls. They followed Adam’s direction and filed back into the cabin to await his return.

  Chase looked at his watch again—8:56 a.m. If Adam took his normal time, he would return right about 10:00 a.m. He spent a billable hour with his followers, just enough time to make a speech and choose a girl; a 50-minute affair.

  A tingling sensation ran up Chase’s legs from sitting too long in the same position. First sunlight had been at 5:40 a.m., which meant had been in position and watching the cabin about 15-minutes before that. He had used the time to observe any movement at or near the cabin. The second shift was still on patrol until 7:00 a.m. Since his arrival at 5:25 a.m., he was able to spot a solitary patrol appearing about every 12 to 17 minutes in the brush just beyond the clearing.

  He felt an anxious twitch, his actionable window shrinking with ev
ery passing minute he sat there. Chase watched and waited, needing the patrol to pass one more time to create his opening.

  A dark-clad figure surfaced along the perimeter of the clearing—9:08 a.m. Chase mentally marked the time on his watch, determined to give the man six minutes to clear the area. Based on a 12-minute tour, the man would be furthest away at the six-minute mark.

  Adam’s ego was paying off, his need to be the sole and primary contact with the twelve kept the security detail at bay—to a degree.

  Chase made his way to his feet, shaking the tingling feeling from his thighs and calves. He took one last look through his binoculars and tucked them into the oversized pocket on his leg pouch. He glanced one last time at his watch—9:14 a.m.—and rocked back on his heels before bursting forward at a steady sprint toward the cabin.

  Tree branches struck his sides and thighs and clawed at his face. He blocked the larger branches with his forearms and palms, ignoring the sting of the branches as he ran. His only thought was reaching Haley. He was willing to do whatever was necessary to leave with her—either in tow or over his shoulder. He preferred in tow, but was prepared to carry her, unconscious if necessary.

  Either way, you’re coming home.

  Adam walked about 20-feet down the path before turning to face Popov.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  “Follow me,” Viktor said and stepped off the path and into the woods.

  Adam followed as Viktor led them in an eastern direction, along the south edge of the Garden. Viktor smirked at the irony of reaching the path Harper had taken the night before when he tried to avoid them. Instead, Viktor had not only tracked him, but shot the annoying old man pestering them the past several years—an added bonus. Viktor would now use Harper’s own path to avoid him.

  Viktor was pleased with the turn of events. It resulted from good work and a shot of good luck.

  Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good.

  Viktor preferred to rely on both. Luck wasn’t handed out. It didn’t fall from the sky. It was created, proactively. Being committed to his job and working hard, he created his own luck. He was good, and luck followed.

  Viktor turned back to see Adam struggling through the woods and brush. From his outward appearance, Adam looked like he belonged on his own mountain man television series, but looks were deceiving. Adam was the definition of a glamper—a word taught to Viktor by one of his staff. A glamorous camper. A person who camps in luxury. Adam.

  Just as a tattoo didn’t make you tough or a good fighter. A beard and scraggly hair didn’t make Adam a mountain man or a survivalist.

  “Doing okay?” Viktor felt obligated to ask.

  “Could you slow down just a little?”

  “Sure,” Viktor said and kept the same pace.

  The detour took them about 15-minutes to loop back to the Garden.

  “Popov to Thomas,” Viktor spoke into his mic.

  “Thomas here.”

  “Approaching plus-one from south of the Garden.”

  “Roger, that.”

  Viktor slipped by Thomas, who was hunkered down on one knee, three-feet deep in the brush off the southwest corner of the cabin.

  He stepped onto the bedroom porch and walked to the unlocked door. He waited for Adam to catch up before the two of them entered the bedroom and Viktor shut the door behind them.

  62

  Chase’s feet landed on top of the sensor’s barrier, sending a strange jolt coursing through his body at the thought, as if the sensors somehow could emit a charge.

  The north side of the cabin came into view, sitting canted, facing slightly northwest. Drawing his Glock from the mid of his back, he gripped the handle with his right hand and overlapped the fingers of his left hand into the familiar grooves of his right, firm and responsive, controlled and adaptive. Raising his shoulders into a shrug and lowering his head, he pointed his weapon like a compass in front of him, pulling him toward his next target. He slowed his sprint to a tactical heel-to-toe rush toward the windowless wall. He reached the wall and stopped to listen. No sign or sound of security. He slid his left shoulder along its logged surface as he steadily stepped toward the end of the wall.

  Stopping at edge where the cabin met the porch, he paused and listened again. Silence. The front sight of his gun followed his gaze as he scanned the front of the cabin from left to right, then back again. No movement. No sound. Eerily quiet—too quiet.

  He slipped under the rail on the porch and crept to the corner of the picture window. A quick peek verified the girls were inside, milling about, as if attending an eternal slumber party, oblivious to Chase’s pending intrusion. He performed a cursory scan of the room for security staff—none present. He scanned the faces of the girls for Haley, one, two, three... four… five, six… seven… wait, seven! Chase looked closer at the side profile of the smiling young girl, attempting to match her face against his memory and their last face-to-face.

  Too long ago.

  Time had matured her, enough to push her more toward a younger version of her mother, with longer brown wavy hair. It was Haley. She was wearing a pair of jeans, dark tennis shoes, and a cream-white top that flowed downward just short of her wrists.

  Chase took one last look around the clearing surrounding the cabin before slipping his gun back into its holster and standing upright. His entrance into the cabin needed to be unassuming, natural, or as natural as security personnel would act around the Twelve; currently Eleven.

  Chase walked confidently across the front of the window to the front door of the cabin, a security guard performing his normal duties, in his normal uniform, checking on Adam’s girls. He reached down and turned the handle and pushed the front door open.

  “Operator to Popov.”

  “Popov, go ahead.”

  “We have a breach, just northeast of the Garden.”

  “Roger that, Operator.”

  Viktor turned to look at Adam, “I need you to stay in here until I come for you. Understand?”

  “But I can help. The Twelve need me right now. I will not hide in my room,” Adam said.

  Viktor didn’t have time for Adam’s spurt of chivalry. When it came down to it, he would replace any losses incurred at the next Enlightenment Circle. Adam’s followers were disposable, even to him. There was a slow, steady stream flowing into the Community, and that was without any aggressive recruiting at the local college campuses. The sheer number of followers was inconsequential. The quality was the key, and by quality, meaning the financial solvency of the potential followers. And for now, the “quality” was adequate to their needs.

  Viktor tippy-toed around Adam’s offer, not offending, doing his best to keep him out of the way more than anything. The easiest way to deal with Adam was to play to his ego.

  “You hired me to protect you, right?” Viktor asked.

  Adam nodded.

  “If I put you in harm’s way, I wouldn’t be doing my job,” Viktor reasoned.

  Another nod from Adam.

  “If anything happened to you, what would happen to your followers? The Community would be a ship at sea without a rudder.”

  Viktor couldn’t believe he’d just used one of Adam’s go-to lines. He may not be drinking the Kool-aid, but he was definitely swimming in it.

  “Thank you, Viktor. You’re right. For the sake of my children. That was selfish of me.”

  “So you’re going to wait here, right?” Viktor verified.

  “Yes, I will wait here.”

  “Good.”

  Viktor walked back to the door leading to the porch and opened it, “I’ll let you know when things are clear.”

  He stood in the doorway and pushed the button on his mic, “Popov to Team. One exiting the Holy Garden. Hold your positions.”

  Viktor stepped onto the porch and shut the door behind him. Griping the M400 on his chest, he stepped off the porch and turned right to make his way to the front of the cabin to intercept Harper.

  Chas
e stepped inside and shut the door behind him. A brief silence coursed like a small wave across the room. The girls took notice of him standing there, black polo, black BDU pants, black boots—security staff—and returned to their slumber party. Chase moved away from the picture window and stayed along the wall leading to where he’d last seen Haley. The girls took little notice, though an occasional curious eye met his movements and quickly dismissed him, their conversations more important than the presence of security.

  Chase found Haley sitting on the arm of the sofa, engaged in an animated discussion with two other girls. He stopped and stared in her direction, trying to catch her eye and minimize the pending storm of disruption he was prepared to unleash.

  You really do look like your mother.

  One of the girls Haley was talking to took notice of Chase’s stare and tapped Haley on the shoulder and nodded in his direction. Haley looked at the girl, then at Chase. Her eyes met his and her brow furrowed. Chase could see the clear “don’t I know you” look on her face, her brain racing to place him.

  Chase gave her a grin and watched as her eyes widened, the images in her mind coming to grips with the confusion of his face in contrast to the uniform.

  “Uncle Chase?” Haley said hesitantly and stood.

  He nodded and waited. She took a step toward him then paused. One by one, the other girls in the room felt the rift and quieted. They craned their necks to find out where the disruption was coming from, ten sets of eyes migrating toward Chase’s location on the wall.

  Chase focused on Haley, watching her reaction, waiting for her next move.

  “Uncle Chase,” she said again, as if trying to convince herself he wasn’t a ghost or apparition of some sort.