by Mark Tilbury
‘How does that feel?’ Marcus asked him.
Like a bloody gorilla’s hugging me, Ben thought. ‘I can’t breathe.’
‘You’ll be fine once we get rolling,’ Ebb promised. ‘I’ll open the window.’
Marcus slammed the door shut and went around to Maddie’s side. Ben listened in disbelief as Maddie told Marcus that she couldn’t wait to get going.
Ebb started the engine. ‘Is everyone set?’
The balaclava muffled Maddie’s voice. ‘Yes, Father.’
Marcus jumped in the passenger seat and closed the door.
Ebb asked Ben if he was ready for “the journey”.
Ben struggled for breath. He wanted to rip the balaclava off his head and run away as fast as his knackered knee would allow him.
‘Answer the Father,’ Marcus said.
Ben gasped for air. Why the hell hadn’t they cut out a hole for the mouth?
To help you learn to keep your big mouth shut.
‘Brother Benjamin?’ Ebb prompted.
‘Yes. Father. I’m fine.’
Chapter twelve
The journey lasted almost an hour. It seemed like a week to Ben. Every muscle in his body ached and his head pounded.
Ebb switched off the engine. ‘Okay, folks, you can take the balaclavas off now.’
Ben ripped the thing from his head and threw it on the floor. He screwed up his face as bright sunlight invaded his eyes.
Ebb turned around. ‘Home sweet home.’
Ben looked at the floor. Perhaps if he didn’t look up, all this might just go away.
After a while, Maddie reached out and touched his arm. ‘Are you okay?’
Ben resisted an urge to reply with sarcasm. He was so far from okay, he didn’t know what “okay” was anymore. ‘I guess.’
Marcus held the door open for Maddie and helped her out of the Land Rover.
Ben climbed out onto the parched earth of what looked like a farm courtyard. He stamped his feet to encourage life into his legs. A stone outbuilding and two derelict barns surrounded the courtyard. There was a tall thin guy wearing bright yellow overalls working in one of the barns.
Ebb paraded up and down in front of Ben and Maddie like a sergeant major greeting raw recruits. ‘Welcome to The Sons and Daughters of Salvation. First things first; I’d like to introduce you to one or two house rules.’
Maddie looked about her. ‘Wow. A farm.’
Marcus walked up to her. ‘Please refrain from speaking unless the Father addresses you.’
Maddie plucked a strand of hair out of her eyes. ‘Sorry.’
Ebb strutted about like a peacock. ‘Sorry is not a word I accept, Madeline. Sorry implies that you have disobeyed me. However, on this occasion, I will let it go because you are still new. A little excited, perhaps?’
Maddie nodded.
Ebb smiled.
A smile cooked in oil, Ben thought.
‘The Sons and Daughters of Salvation are dedicated to serving the Lord Jesus Christ. We like to think that it offers all our members a level of depth and meaning that cannot be found in the outside world.’
Ben looked around the courtyard. Was his father being held captive in one of the barns?
He’s dead. Dead and buried and rotting away in the cold earth.
Ben tried to shut out the thought. Focus on what Ebb was saying. His life might depend on it.
Ebb brushed something from the front of his shirt. ‘As Brother Marcus has already said, you are only permitted to speak when I address you. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Father,’ Maddie said.
Ebb looked at Ben with coal black eyes. ‘Benjamin?’
My name’s Ben, not fucking Benjamin. ‘Yes, Father.’
Maddie pointed to a brick-built tower standing over fifty feet above the courtyard. ‘What’s that?’
‘For the last time, stop speaking out of turn, Madeline,’ Ebb said. ‘If you have questions, Brother Tweezer will be more than happy to answer them later.’
Ben looked up at the tower. There appeared to be someone standing at the top. A distant blob decked in bright yellow.
‘May I speak, Father?’ Maddie said.
Ebb pursed his lips. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Who’s Brother Tweezer?’
‘He is my right-hand man. Now, listen up, because this is important: every member of The Sons and Daughters of Salvation is considered an equal. We wear the same clothes. We eat the same food. We speak the same language: the language of God. Anyone who gets any ideas above their station will be punished. Is that clear?’
‘Yes,’ Maddie said.
Ben nodded.
Ebb drew himself up to his full height of just over five and a half feet. ‘It is not sufficient to nod your head like one of those pathetic toy dogs found in the back windows of cars belonging to the lost and the lame.’
‘Sorry.’
Sweat trickled down Ebb’s face and glistened on his top lip. ‘You’ll learn, Benjamin. You’ll learn soon enough.’
To Ben’s disgust, Ebb licked the sweat from his top lip.
‘It’s still early days. We’re bound to encounter a few teething problems. As long as you understand the chain of command. Myself, then Brother Tweezer, then Brother Marcus and Sister Alice. You may go to any of the aforementioned with grievances, and they will bring those grievances to me. Do you understand?’
Ben and Maddie answered in unison. ‘Yes, Father.’
‘But positive people don’t carry grievances. Positive people get on with the job in hand. Positive people serve the Lord without fear or favour.’
Ben tried to conjure positivity. It was like trying to coax prayer from an atheist.
Ebb paced back and forth like a caged animal. ‘I want you to both empty your pockets and place all the contents down on the ground in front of you.’
Ben suddenly remembered the pay-as-you-go phone he’d bought from Tesco the night before. Pastor Tom had told him to hide it somewhere safe in case of emergencies. What was he supposed to do now? Pretend he didn’t have it? Hurl it into the bushes surrounding the courtyard?
‘Have you got a problem, Benjamin?’ Ebb asked after a few moments’ inactivity.
Ben shook his head.
Ebb stood in front of him and put his hands on his hips. ‘I don’t hear you, my friend. I asked if you’ve got a problem?’
Ben’s head was alive with the damned things. ‘No, Father.’
‘Then why are you standing there as if you’ve been struck dumb? I asked you to empty your pockets.’
Ben looked at the baked earth. The baked earth offered no solutions. He took the phone from his pocket and laid it on the ground, along with some loose change, a Snickers wrapper and the locket his mother had given him.
Ebb smiled. ‘Do you have a sweet tooth, Benjamin?’
‘Sometimes. When I need energy.’
‘Address the Father properly,’ Marcus shouted.
Ben bowed his head. ‘Sorry. Father.’
‘The Lord shall give you all the energy you need, Benjamin. He shall shine his light upon you and fill you with His energy.’
‘Yes, Father.’
Ebb bent down and picked up the locket. ‘What’s this?’
‘It’s got some of my brother’s hair in it. He died when he was a baby.’
Ebb pursed his lips. ‘The Lord takes no account of age. I’m sure He has a higher purpose for him. I shall keep the locket in a safe place.’
Ben wanted to snatch back the locket. ‘Yes, Father.’
Ebb smiled. ‘I’m sure your brother is with you in spirit, Benjamin.’
Ben didn’t believe in spirits, but he was in no mood to contradict Ebb. He watched Maddie empty the front pouch of her dungarees. A pack of chewing gum. A comb. Some lipstick. A screwed up five pound-note. A keying with a Snoopy fob.
‘Thank you, Madeline. Now I’d like you both to strip down to your underwear.’
‘Here?’ Maddie moaned.
�
��It’s a warm day.’
‘But I burn in the sun.’
‘You won’t be in the sun long enough to burn,’ Ebb snapped. ‘Now please do as I ask.’
Whilst they stripped, Marcus scooped up their belongings and stuffed them into the pocket of his trench coat. He then walked over to the Land Rover.
Ben stood in his boxers. The sun beat down on his exposed body. The baked earth scorched his feet. Out of the corner of his right eye he could see Maddie looking at him. Ben stared ahead, flushed with embarrassment. He hated his body. He resembled a skeleton with a stoop.
Marcus returned with a large black refuse sack. He pulled out two pairs of bright yellow overalls and handed one each to Ben and Maddie. ‘Put these on.’
The overalls were baggy around the middle and two inches short on the legs. Ben was just relieved to be covered up.
Marcus put Ben and Maddie’s clothes in the bin liner and knotted it at the top.
Ebb mopped his brow. ‘Get Bubba to burn them. When he’s done that, tell him to come to the kitchen.’
Marcus walked towards the barn where the tall, thin guy was working. ‘Yes, Father.’
Ben watched Marcus walk away with his clothes and his phone. Now all he had left in the world was a hideous pair of bright yellow overalls and a thumping headache. This was going so much better than he could have imagined. All he needed now was Ebb’s dog to rip him to shreds and his day would be complete.
Ebb stood in front of Maddie. ‘Yours look made to measure, Madeline.’
‘Thank you, Father.’
Ebb inclined his head and moved in front of Ben. ‘Yours seem to have come up short, Benjamin.’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘Brother Gerald was about your height. I’ll see if I can find a pair of his for you later on.’
Ben wondered where Brother Gerald was now. Dead? Murdered? Buried in a field?
‘I trust you don’t mind hand-me-downs?’
Ben saw something flash in those coal black eyes. Something akin to a shadow in a window watching you. ‘No, Father.’
Ebb smiled. ‘Perhaps some of his enthusiasm might rub off on you. They say energy can be stored within material objects.’
Marcus returned from the barn. ‘All good, Father.’
Ebb rubbed his hands together. ‘Let’s get inside and meet the others.’
Maddie and Ben followed the two men out of the courtyard and along a narrow path overgrown with weeds and moss. Brambles and tall hedgerows flanked the path.
Ben trod on a stone and then stubbed his toe on the path. ‘Can’t I have my trainers back?’
‘Be quiet,’ Marcus warned.
‘We don’t wear shoes,’ Ebb said.
Ben looked at Ebb’s sandals. What the hell was that on his feet? Illusions?
‘Shoes inhibit direction,’ Ebb added. ‘We must be in direct contact with Mother Earth at all times.’
Ben wondered what happened in winter. Did everyone have to walk around barefoot and end up with frostbite?
They walked up to a large detached farmhouse with dirty, cream-coloured rendering and rotted window frames. There was a brass wolf’s-head knocker fixed to the front door. Ebb banged it three times, pausing a few seconds between each one. ‘The place needs a bit of work, but the Lord is our main priority.’
It needs demolishing, Ben thought.
A short, middle-aged woman with grey spiky hair answered the door. She was dressed in the obligatory yellow overalls. She wore a pair of half-rim spectacles with gold chains dangling from the arms.
‘Good afternoon, Sister Alice.’
‘Good afternoon, Father.’
‘I’d like you to meet Benjamin and Madeline. They’ll be joining us on our journey.’
‘Pleased to meet you both.’
Maddie bowed slightly. ‘Hello.’
Ben didn’t like the look of Alice any better than he liked the look of Ebb and Marcus. It was as if they all wore masks over their true identity. Beneath the masks, Ben imagined maggots crawling amongst rotting flesh.
Alice stood aside to allow them passage into a hallway with yellow walls and a bare oak floor. ‘I trust you are well, Father?’
Ebb closed the door. ‘Very well, Sister Alice. Very well indeed.’
Alice led them along the hallway and into a massive kitchen. One end of the kitchen was given to functionality, with a large ceramic sink and a range of dark-oak cupboards and base units. Ben thought it made his local fried-chicken outlet look obsessed with hygiene. A huge pine farmhouse table, that looked capable of hosting the Last Supper, dominated the centre of the room.
Alice fetched a teapot from the worktop next to the sink and plonked it down on the table. ‘I’ve just made it.’
Ebb told Ben and Maddie to sit at the table. He then turned to Marcus. ‘After you’ve changed, relieve Brother Tweezer up the tower. I’d like him to come down and meet Madeline and Benjamin.’
Marcus stood up. He was still dressed in the huge trench coat he’d been wearing in Oxford. He inclined his head like a butler in service and then walked out of the room. Ben noticed a strange look in Marcus’s eyes. A blank look that suggested he wasn’t in control of his own mind.
Alice poured tea for everyone. Ben didn’t want tea. Especially black tea without sugar. To make matters worse, he burnt his top lip when he took a sip of the scalding liquid. The pain made his eyes water. It was all he could do to stop himself cursing out loud.
Ebb grinned. A greasy grin that smeared oil on his chops. ‘I’m sorry if it’s not to your usual taste, but I’m afraid we don’t use artificial flavourings.’
Dinner will be a riot, Ben thought.
Ebb’s smile evaporated like steam from a window. ‘But you’ll soon acclimatise to it. In fact, I can guarantee that as your taste buds return to their natural state, you will come to hate all artificial flavours.’
Ben doubted it. Salt and ketchup had got him through some of his mother’s worst culinary disasters. He stared at his mug of tea and wondered how the hell Ebb considered milk to be artificial.
Ebb pursed his lips. ‘Most of the allergies and illnesses in the western world are caused by poor diet and a tendency towards gluttony.’
Ben tried to marry up Ebb’s words with the man’s waistline. Ebb seemed unaware of the contradictions.
‘Here at The Sons and Daughters of Salvation, we only take what we need, and need what we take.’
Alice bowed her head. ‘Amen.’
‘Indulgence is a sin.’
Alice agreed. The glasses perched on the end of her nose made her look like an old school mistress.
Ebb blew steam from his mug and took a sip of his tea. ‘The indulgences of the free world are banned here. Your system will soon learn to dismiss vulgarity.’
Alice crossed herself. ‘Praise Jesus.’
Ebb turned his attention to Ben. ‘What’s your poison, Benjamin?’
Ben tried to rein in the thoughts galloping wild in his head. ‘Huh?’
‘Stand up, Benjamin.’
Ben stood up. His knee begged for an ice pack. One–nil to the tormentors of dear old Stutter-buck.
Ebb studied Ben for a few seconds. And then: ‘Please refrain from such banal responses. “Huh” is not an answer.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Sorry, Father,’ Alice corrected.
Ebb put his mug down on the table. ‘What’s your indulgence, Benjamin? Alcohol? Cream? Pork?’
‘I like sugar,’ Ben blurted.
Ebb regarded him as if he’d just admitted to liking murder. ‘Sugar is the Devil’s dust.’
‘Amen,’ Alice agreed.
‘The Devil sprinkles it like fairy dust. But what are his motives?’
Sweat trickled down Ben’s back. The coarse material of the overalls rubbed against his skin. He wanted to tell Ebb that he suffered from eczema. That his mother had to rub cream into his back sometimes. That the itching drove him mad when it flared up. But Ebb would probably a
ttribute the eczema to his western indulgences and tell him that a radical change of diet would clear up his skin.
Ebb continued: ‘His motives are simple. He wants to weigh us down. He wants to turn us into slugs, slithering in the slime of our own excesses.’
Alice bowed her head. ‘We shall not succumb.’
Ebb banged the table. The loose flesh around his chin rippled. ‘We must resist temptation.’
‘I can do without sugar,’ Ben said, afraid that he was about to be carted away and flogged to within an inch of his waistline for daring to like two sugars in his tea.
Ebb held up a hand. ‘The Devil stands behind the counter of every single outlet in every single town and city. It is our duty to stand against him.’
Alice crossed herself. ‘We shall not be tempted, Father.’
‘From the bakery to the burger bar, he peddles his filth.’
‘But we see him, Father.’
Ebb nodded. ‘Oh, yes; we see him and we smell him, Sister Alice. He is mustard gas on a succulent beef sandwich.’
Alice pushed her glasses up her nose and sniffed. She didn’t seem to have a response to Ebb’s somewhat cryptic statement.
Ebb continued on less confusing ground. ‘But we will flush him out. Flush him out and send him to burn in the pits of Hell for all eternity.’
Alice seemed more comfortable with this. ‘Amen.’
Ebb dabbed his face with a sodden handkerchief. ‘Sit back down, Benjamin.’
As Ben sat down, his knee cracked and almost spilled him to the floor.
Ebb studied him. ‘Are you all right, Pixie-pea?’
Ben looked at Maddie.
Maddie shrugged. A tiny, barely discernible movement of her shoulders.
‘Yes, Father,’ Ben lied. ‘I’m fine.’
Ebb turned to Alice. ‘Gather the troops. It’s time to introduce everyone.’
Alice stood up and bowed.
‘Brother Bubba’s in the barn. I told Brother Marcus to tell him to come in, but Brother Marcus can be inclined to grow moss on his brain. Give him a nudge.’
‘Yes, Father. Right away.’
Chapter thirteen
Dressed in bright yellow overalls, The Sons and Daughters of Salvation filed into the kitchen one at a time and sat at the huge pine table. Ben looked at the two women sitting either side of Sister Alice. Neither bore any resemblance to the photograph of Emily Hunt.