The Wicked (The Righteous)

by Michael Wallace

  When he emerged, Madeline kicked at his face, while he tried to fend her off with one arm. His other, Eliza now saw, dangled uselessly by his side. The elbow bent at a bad angle. He should be lying on the ground, in shock, but something propelled him forward. She had no doubt that he’d find a way to make good on his threats if they let him escape from the hole.

  There was garbage all around her, so much that she tripped over it. She bent and groped, and her hands found something hard. It was a ripped shred of a tire and she wrenched it free from the dirt and other garbage around it. She swung from the shoulder, caught him across the side of the head.

  Christopher snarled, a feral, animal sound. “Oh, you just made a big mistake.” He hooked his good arm over the top of the ladder and began to lever himself out of the pit.

  But she wasn’t done. She beat him again and again on the face, until she forced him to let go and try to protect himself. “Get the ladder!” she cried.

  Madeline grabbed the edge of the ladder and shook it, while Eliza kept beating. For a moment, it looked like he’d get out and Eliza braced herself to grab Madeline and make a run for it, but then he started to slip. She redoubled her attack. Her arm ached. He tried to regain his grip.

  Eliza dropped the piece of tire and rushed him. She shoved her hands into his face and threw her body into the ladder. It flopped back against the other side of the narrow opening. Christopher fell with a cry.

  “Get the ladder.”

  The two women pulled it up. Even now, he didn’t give up. He’d caught a foot or arm on the bottom rung of the ladder. They shook it back and forth and finally wrenched it free. Moments later, they had it out of the pit and dragged it away from the opening. Christopher found his voice, and started in again on his shouts and threats. But he was at the bottom of the pit now. There was nothing he could do.

  Eliza couldn’t help herself. She bent over and said, “Hope you like lettuce, jerk. And you can think about how two naked girls gave you a beating.” She turned to Madeline. “Get the fridge.”

  The fridge was easier to move from above and they shortly had it maneuvered back over the hole. It muted Christopher’s rants. Soon, they died altogether, leaving only the sound of the breeze flowing over the desert.

  Eliza doubled over, panting. When she caught her breath, she said, “Looks like he’s ready to purify himself, see how he likes it. Or is that only for women?”

  “Uhm. . .Eliza?”

  Eliza followed Madeline’s gaze. She turned to find a dozen others standing a few feet away in a half circle around them. One young woman held a lantern. Their faces were grim.

  #

  David drew Jacob and Miriam aside, into the shadows behind the house, where the fire had never taken hold. The sharp smell of burning paint and gasoline filled his nostrils. He had the boy by the hand and could feel him trembling. Miriam put a hand on the child’s shoulder and whispered encouraging words.

  “What are you doing?” Jacob asked. “We should help put out the fire.”

  “We can’t do anything about the shed,” David said, “and they’ve got the house fire under control. I don’t want the old man to hear this.”

  “What, exactly, don’t you want him to hear?” Jacob asked. His tone had changed and David could tell his brother shared his suspicions about Abraham Christianson.

  “I don’t know what this is all about, you coming down here and giving me a blessing, Miriam and her drugs.”

  “I’m so sorry, David,” she said. “It was the only way, and—”

  “It doesn’t matter, not right now. I don’t trust my father, and neither should you. If you listen to me about anything, trust me on that.”

  “I don’t trust him,” she said. “Not a bit. It’s just that—”

  “Please, I’m serious. You don’t have to explain anything. Later, maybe, but not now. We don’t have time. I know who the arsonist is.”

  “It’s got to be a Lost Boy,” Jacob said. “Who else would try to burn down the prophet’s house? And who else would know Blister Creek well enough to come in at night?”

  “Yes, but not just a Lost Boy. Look how skinny this boy is, the rags.”

  Jacob was a smart man, and it only took him a second to put the pieces together. First, the light of understanding, then a look of horror. “Oh, no. Eliza.” He reached for his phone, started dialing. A moment later, he said, “Dammit, no answer.”

  David thought about the reference to the Book of Revelation on the side of the produce truck, and his mind filled in the rest. And the name of the star is called Wormwood. “I don’t think we have a lot of time.”

  “Could someone please fill me in,” Miriam said.

  “The thing about millenialist cults is they can sit around doing nothing for a long time,” Jacob said as he dialed again. “The instant they start killing people you know they’re serious. That’s when they think the world really is coming to an end.” He stopped, said into the phone. “Liz, if you get this, call me right away. Immediately, it can’t wait.” He hung up, let out his breath.

  David squatted until he was eye-to-eye with the boy, while Jacob dialed again. “Can you tell me your name?”

  No answer.

  “Who brought you here? You know they’re not your friends, right? Whoever put you in that shed was going to burn you alive. You don’t have to protect them.”

  The boy shook his head. David didn’t know what that meant, that he did have to protect them? That he wasn’t trying to protect them? That he didn’t understand any of it?

  “Can you tell me anything about what happened?”

  Another shake of the head.

  “It’s no use,” Jacob said as he hung up his phone again. “He’s too traumatized to help and we’re wasting valuable time.”

  “But you know something,” Miriam said to David. “Any idea how to find these people?”

  David nodded. “It’d be easier if this kid would help, but I think so. Or I could find it with a little mental effort. They came in off the desert behind my subdivision. Problem is, the arsonist has a head start on us, and maybe they’re already drinking their Kool-Aid, or whatever they’re planning.”

  “Fire, I think,” Jacob said. “Based on the evidence.”

  “Fire sounds right,” Miriam said. “The problem is, we’ll get there too late. Maybe the best thing is to call the Las Vegas police.”

  “I don’t think that will work,” David said. “We don’t have much evidence and we’d have to make it an anonymous call. And I don’t have an exact location to send them, anyway. They’ll spend about five minutes driving around, and then they’ll go back to their speed traps and prostitution stings.”

  Jacob turned to Miriam. “What about your FBI buddies?”

  “They’re hardly my buddies anymore, not after I left in such an. . .awkward way. Krantz is a good guy, he’d probably help, but I haven’t talked to him in months and he might even be in Central Asia somewhere. They offered him a position at a legal attaché overseas, but I don’t know if he took it. Fayer, maybe? She’s never quite forgiven me for what happened at the Zarahemla compound. I don’t know if it’s the religious thing or the abuse she suffered, but I think that somehow, she blames me for what happened. But she is a professional, and I think she’ll believe me. I’d still have to get a hold of her, which might not be easy.”

  “Whatever we do, we’re not waiting here,” Jacob said. “Not while Eliza is facing heaven knows what.” He pressed his hands to his temples. “I never should have let her go. What was I thinking?”

  Miriam put a hand on his shoulder. “You were thinking she is a strong, intelligent woman who can take care of herself. Whatever else is happening out there, none of that has changed. Now let’s get out of here before we get sucked into another one of Abraham Christianson’s schemes.”

  “And the boy?” David asked.

  Jacob said, “We’ll leave the child with one of Father’s wives. It’s too dangerous out there.”

&n
bsp; #

  Eliza stood naked in front of the half-circle of men and women closing in on them. The light from a pair of lanterns cast their faces in ghostly hues. She forced a confidence into her voice that she didn’t feel. “This is all wrong and every one of you knows it. Look at you, starving, abused. Some of you raped. Where are your families? What about school and jobs and college? You gave all that up for this?”

  “We didn’t give up anything, we left the Lone and Dreary World,” one young man said. His head had been shaved to a stubble and a beard sprouted in tufts from his chin. He couldn’t have been more than nineteen. It was Kirk, the boy who’d sprang to his feet when she’d fled from the trailer door. “Who needs that? We’ve got the Word of God to show us, now.”

  “The Lone and Dreary World?” She felt the ground under her feet solidify. It was fundamentalist Mormon speak; she’d heard it before. And there was no sign of the Disciple. These others had been bullied for so long that maybe they couldn’t move without their two leaders. “And the world is less dreary living in the dump, eating garbage? Less dreary, how, exactly?” She spotted Benita, who held one of the lanterns. Eliza grabbed the girl’s arm, turned it over to reveal the scars. “This stuff can heal. What they do to you in the desert doesn’t scab over so easily.”

  Benita pulled away. Madeline seemed to wake up as she came to Eliza’s side. “Nita, it’s okay. It’s over. We can get out of here. Listen to Eliza, she makes so much sense.”

  “Why, because she’s whispering the words of the devil in your ear?” Kirk asked. A few of the others murmured. “If you listen to the devil long enough, of course he starts to make sense. We’re the Chosen Ones, and we only listen to God.”

  “It’s not God who starves people in pits and rapes them while twisting scriptures to make it sound holy and righteous,” Eliza said. “It’s not God who tells people to find helpless strangers and beat them half to death. You think that’s God?” They weren’t listening, she could see their faces hardening, but they no longer looked like they were going to attack Eliza and Madeline, either. “Now listen to me. Madeline and I are leaving tonight. Anyone who wants can come with us.”

  “You won’t get far,” Kirk said. “The world is ending tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Madeline said, her voice tight and strangled.

  Benita nodded. “The Disciple left several hours ago to prepare the way. He’ll be back soon. It will happen just before dawn, Wormwood will fall from the sky and burn the wicked from the face of the earth.”

  “But. . .tonight?” Madeline repeated.

  “The world isn’t ending,” Eliza said, more for Madeline’s benefit than anyone else’s. “Morning will come and the sun will rise like it does every day. And either the Disciple isn’t bothering to come back—having taken everything he wanted—or he’ll come back with some excuse as to why the world didn’t actually end at dawn. There was some slight miscalculation or the Lord said it would be another year or two so you could finish the work.”

  “You’re wrong,” Kirk said.

  “Fine, if I’m wrong, I’ll be burned up when Wormwood falls. If I’m right, will you admit it? Will you say, ‘I was wrong, the world isn’t coming to an end’?”

  Eliza didn’t just say this last part with confidence, she felt it. In the past, she might have suffered a twinge of superstitious worry. Not tonight. She’d seen nothing to indicate that the Disciple was anything more than a fraud or insane or some combination of the two.

  Kirk had no answer, and she could see doubt on his face. In spite of giving up everything, surrendering everything they had to wait for Wormwood to fall from the sky and burn up the wicked, a tiny seed of doubt remained. And a little doubt was all she needed to get herself and Madeline—as well as anyone else who would come—out of there.

  Nevertheless, there was a flaw in her plan, she could now see. If the Disciple had taken the truck, they’d have to walk out of the desert. Even if she could get clothing and water, there was no way she could walk out by dawn. And what if she came down the road and the Disciple came back from the other direction? Meanwhile, as soon as she left, they’d no doubt fish Christopher out of the hole. She couldn’t let that happen. Eliza thought she could handle the Disciple alone, maybe with some help from Madeline, and possibly Benita and a couple of the others. Christopher scared her. And he would scare the others, too.

  “Can someone bring us some clothes? I’m getting tired of standing here naked.”

  “Come inside,” Benita said. “I’ve got a couple of things that should fit.”

  Eliza eyed Kirk. “If it’s all the same, I’ll stay right here.” She sat down on the edge of the fridge. The pit below her was quiet, but she wasn’t fooled. There was a monster down there and he would be plotting. She’d left him the same tools she’d used to get herself out. Would he figure it out? Would his injured arm allow him to make a try?

  Madeline came to sit by her while Benita went for the clothes. “Are we leaving?” she asked Eliza in a low voice.

  “We can’t leave until morning, it’s too dangerous.”

  “It’s dangerous here, too.”

  “I know, but we can’t make it out on foot, not after starving in the pit. We have to hold out until morning, see if the world comes to an end. And no, I don’t think it will. I think the Disciple will come back with some lame story, and we can work that to our advantage. We’ll take his truck.”

  “It would help if some of these people didn’t want to toss us back into the pit. And this time we’d have company.”

  “Give me a few minutes,” Eliza said. “I’ll work on that.”

  When Benita came out with the clothes, she exchanged a glance with Madeline that Eliza tried to decipher. Some of the others returned to the trailers. A few, including Kirk, kept their distance but watched the two women as they dressed. The clothes were torn, dirty shirts and pants with missing buttons. No underwear. Still, a huge improvement to being naked. Benita watched them dress, then turned to leave.

  “Stay here for a moment,” Eliza said. “We want to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  “We want you to come with us,” Madeline said.

  Benita shifted the lamp from one hand to the other, glanced back at Kirk, who now turned back toward the trailer. “I don’t know, I. . .I just don’t know.”

  “They can’t hurt you if you leave,” Eliza said.

  “Maybe not, but other things can.”

  “Of course, you’re right, but there are people who can help, too. Do you have family? I know people who can help if you don’t.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Explain it to me,” Eliza urged. “I want to help, that’s why I came here. For Madeline, but for you, too. If I can help, it will all be worth it, but you have to talk to me.”

  “I-I just can’t.”

  Madeline wrapped her arm around Benita’s shoulder and sat the woman between herself and Eliza atop the overturned fridge. “You can talk to her, she’s like us. She understands.”

  “No, not now. I really can’t. It’s. . .too much.”

  Eliza tried to keep her voice reassuring. “It’s okay. There will be plenty of time for that later. Just come out with us, get away from the Disciple and the Chosen Ones for a few days and see how you feel.” She smiled. “Unless the world ends tonight, of course. Then I’ll admit I’m wrong and join up, if it’s not too late.”

  Benita tensed and Eliza thought she would pull away, but then she nodded. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

  Eliza felt things turning her way. She thought about the prepaid cell phone. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in a minute.” She took Benita’s lamp and left the two women in the darkness.

  But when she walked around the back of the trailers, she had a shock. They’d moved more tires, spreading them in piles on the back side of the compound until they overran and buried the sofa where she’d hidden the phone. Maybe she could have found it in daylight, but it was too dark t
o see more than shadows and deeper shadows. She walked through the tires, bending and holding out the lamp, but it was no use. Everything was overturned, buried, or moved and she couldn’t remember exactly where she’d put it.

  Eliza fought down her worry as she made her way back to the others. Even without the phone, she was in better shape than she had been a few minutes earlier. She and Madeline had escaped, put Christopher in the pit where he couldn’t hurt anyone, and the Disciple was out of the picture. She could figure this out.

  “What was that about?” Madeline asked when she came back.

  “Nothing,” she lied, “just clearing my head so I can think of a way out of here.”

  “Do you have a plan?”

  Eliza considered. She didn’t need all of them, and she didn’t need full cooperation. Kirk still worried her and she couldn’t stop imagining Christopher in the pit below them, plotting. She handed Benita the lamp. “I’m going to talk to Kirk. Don’t either of you get off the fridge, whatever you do. If he figures out how we got out, he might try it, too.”

  Eliza made her way to the trailer where Kirk and a few of the others had disappeared. What was the best way to approach him? With all the abuse of women she’d witnessed, she had to remind herself that these men suffered, too. Not all of them could be monsters like Christopher. And yet they had assaulted strangers, so there was something dark in every one of them.

  Voices raised as she climbed the cinder blocks that served as stairs. “Let him out!” a woman shouted. “The Disciple left him in charge!” A man—Kirk?—told her to keep it down. They should wait to see what God meant to happen. It might be a test.

  Eliza was tempted to eavesdrop, see who stood where, but it was a dangerous moment and she needed to be part of the conversation. She stepped inside and the conversation died as all eyes turned in her direction. They squatted around the edge of the room.