by Jan Coffey
“So they were both murdered?” Ian asked.
Bill nodded. “Like I said, Somers and his people wanted Kelly up here. So whatever had to be done was done. When Frank wanted Kelly to move with her new husband off to the other side of the world, he had to die and so did the husband.” Bill thought about that for a moment. “Rose wasn’t herself once she realized what they did to Frank.
Ian checked his watch. Reaching into the robe for his gun, he moved to the window. Everything looked to be the same outside. He saw no sign of Blade.
“They’re running everything ahead of schedule,” Bill said. “This is a last minute change.”
“Unfortunately, Dan’s people don’t know that.”
The old man sat down on one of the boxes, still too rattled by the news. “I asked Dan to come and check things out. None of us coming over from the inn last night knew that this was the final call. That we weren’t going back. Or at least, I wasn’t told,” he corrected himself. He looked over at Ian. “The security guys are big on guns here. If Dan wasn’t shot, then I can only think of one person who would’ve done it that way…with a knife, I mean.”
“Wilson Blade?” Ian asked.
Bill nodded. “He was the watchdog at Tranquility Inn. He was Kelly’s own personal pit bull, though she never knew it.”
The door opened without a knock, and Bill leaped to his feet. Ian slid behind the door before the intruder spotted him.
“What do you want?” Bill asked without a trace of friendliness.
“Watch your fucking tone, you old goat,” Wilson Blade said, stepping in. “And just what do you think you’re doing in here? Who was the other g—”
As the cook cleared the door, Ian drove his good shoulder into Blade’s chest, slamming him into the corner and knocking him to his knees. Even as the pain in his shoulder exploded across his chest and into his head, Ian realized that Bill was shutting the door behind him. Trying to remain steady on his feet, he pulled out Dan’s .45.
Blade shot to his feet, red-faced and pulling out a wicked looking hunting knife. “What the fuck?”
His eyes widened as he realized it was Ian. Brandishing the knife, Blade lunged at him. As he came, Ian sidestepped and smashed the barrel of the pistol across Blade’s temple, staggering him momentarily. Stepping in, Ian put his knee into the man’s face, lifting him up. He was not about to lose his advantage. He swung the pistol again, hammering the butt of the handle square on the center of the cook’s forehead.
Blade dropped the knife and crumpled.
Ian staggered back, clutching his shoulder. He could feel the blood coming through the robe.
“What the hell?” Bill said, looking at Ian’s shoulder. He glanced down at the unconscious man at their feet and again at Ian. “When did this happen?”
“This morning. Like Dan, I was in the way. They had to take care of me when they came to take Kelly.”
He looked around the small room, trying to decide what they could do with Blade. There wasn’t much. And he didn’t think at this point that it really mattered. The man was out cold.
“You’re bleeding pretty bad.”
“I’ll live.” He glanced at his watch again. “Is there any way you can access a phone. To call out.”
Bill shook his head. “Only one line out, as far as I know. In the administration office. There’s an extension in the infirmary, but they’re both guarded closer than Ty Somers’s bank balance. There’s no way.”
“I have a plan. I don’t know if it’ll work, or if the authorities can get here in time. I was hoping we could stop a standoff and a mass suicide.”
“Somers wants to go and take this group along with him. I think he’ll make Waco look like school recess if he has to.” Bill warned. “I heard two of the security fellas telling Caleb about that truck being rigged to blow up on the road. Sounded to me like if the thing blows, then Father Ty was planning to use the noise to get everyone to come up for their final drink.”
Ian felt suddenly ill.
“He doesn’t give a damn about the moon and stars and all that shit,” Bill continued. “He wants to die and take a lot of folks with him.”
“Get me to Kelly,” Ian said urgently.
~~~~
The number of people walking with her was increasing by the minute. Speaking all the time she walked, Kelly lengthened the path they were going, coming farther down the sides of the benches before going back. The distraction was working.
Somers’s hold on the audience began to waver the moment Kelly extended a hand toward Craig, Ryan’s brother, motioning for the boy to come to her. Without a moment’s hesitation, the teenager left the bench and deserted his parents, joining Kelly and the others in their walk. Then she motioned to a child, to another teenager, to a young woman, and so on. Some came even without an invitation.
Kelly heard whispers behind her and from the back benches as she passed. From the bits and pieces of conversation, she knew her objection to Somers’s plan was being discussed.
Let the word spread, she told herself.
Somers moved to his seat on the stage, taking a break from his sermon. Kelly watched as several of his inner circle whispered to the older man. His gaze shifted, fixing finally on what Kelly was doing in the back.
It was only a matter of minutes before she saw Caleb leave the stage and start toward her. Kelly had to hold on to whatever shred of authority she could wield. She did not waver in her path as he approached, nor did she stop inviting others to join her.
When she turned around at the far end, she realized that Caleb had placed himself directly in her path. She wasn’t going to step around him. She wasn’t going to give any hint to this congregation that she was anything but a person of vast superiority to any of the ministers in attendance. She continued toward the man.
“You wish to speak to me, Caleb,” she called out loud to him, “then you will walk with me.”
Caleb’s face did not hide his annoyance as the group approached. At the last moment, he stepped to the side and fell in step with her. It was a good thing he did, for she had every intention of barreling right into him, if she necessary.
“Father Ty requests your presence on the stage,” he said.
The time had come. Kelly glanced over her shoulder at the group she’d collected. Roughly thirty people. She wasn’t alone.
“Follow me,” she told them, going around the last row of seats and heading directly for the stage.
“These people have to take their seats,” Caleb told her as they walked. “No one is allowed to stand with Father Ty and you on the platform.”
Kelly stopped and faced him. “You are allowed to stand on the platform, aren’t you? What gives you that right, other than the fact that you carry guns under your robe? What do you have that they don’t?”
Her comment was loud enough that a hush fell over those walking with her and those in the seats nearest them. Kelly looked back at Cassy and noticed a look of disgust on her face as the young woman stared at Caleb.
She continued toward the stage. The other ministers seemed concerned. Kelly saw Somers motion to Joshua Sharpe, and the heavyset man rose immediately to his feet. So did Shawn Hobart. The two moved to block her before she reached the five steps leading to the platform.
“Welcome, Luna-K, daughter of the Prophet,” Joshua Sharpe said in greeting.
Kelly nodded dismissively.
“May I?” he asked, reaching for Jade.
“No!” she barked. “She stays with me. And all of these good people—and whoever else might care to join me—I invite to come forward and sit on the steps and on the edge of the platform. I want all of them to be close to my heart and body and soul. It was the same way that the Prophet Michael kept his disciples close to him.”
Despite the continuing keyboard music, her voice carried above it. There was an unusually loud ‘Amen’ from her group and from a few people near the front row.
She reached out and motioned for Sharpe and Hob
art to step aside and open a path for her. Both men looked back at their leader for his approval. The music stopped and there was suddenly dead silence in the open-air chapel.
Too many people were watching the power struggle. Somers nodded, and the two men stepped aside to make way for her.
Kelly refused to accept either of their proffered hands and climbed the stairs on her own. She turned around and supervised as her group was blocked by the steps. Going along the front of the stage, she encouraged some of her followers to sit on the edge of the platform. She was happy to see a few more had joined them at the last moment.
She saw Somers rise to his feet. Looking somewhat impatient, he motioned for her to take the chair that had been set up near the font. Kelly saw two large bottles of red liquid at the far end of the stage. She ignored her picture sitting on an easel by the font. Instead of following the older man’s direction, she headed for the microphone. He realized her intention and reached it first.
“My brothers and sisters, Luna-K has returned,” he announced. “Let us welcome her.”
He started to clap, and the congregation joined him, cheering loudly. He took his hand off the microphone, gesturing for her to speak, but then extended both of his arms to take Jade.
Kelly’s blood ran cold in her veins. All the courage and confidence she’d built up came dangerously close to dissipating.
“Come to me, Jade,” he said in a calm voice.
Kelly felt her child go limp in her arms.
“No,” she said sharply. Her voice rang into the microphone and the crowds quieted. All eyes were on the two of them.
“I am the Prophet’s daughter. And Jade is his granddaughter. It is vital that the Chosen Ones to see us together at this important time. It is essential that Michael look down and see his offspring together.”
Anger brought color into the old man’s pale face. He nodded grimly.
“Luna-K, you have my permission to hold onto your child…for now,” he said menacingly. “But it’s time for you and your daughter to take your seat, as I am ready to lead our people in the next phase of our devotions.”
“Devotions,” she said, pulling the microphone from the stand. “That’s one of the things I’d like to address with all of you here. I will speak for a moment, Brother Ty.”
She stared at Somers, who glared at her for a second or two before backing away. She turned to the congregation.
“Some of you may be wondering about the reason for my pacing back and forth along those walkways at the back of our fine chapel here in the woods.”
A few smiled knowingly. Others nodded their heads, curious. Kelly switched the microphone to the other hand, shifting Jade away from Somers.
“The Prophet Michael,” she said powerfully into the microphone as Somers took a step toward her. “How many of you were fortunate enough to meet that holy man in person?”
She walked away from Somers. More hands went up than she would have expected.
“How many of you remember how he used to march and pace the Mission chapel, smiling and acknowledging everyone before any of his sermons?”
The same hands went up. The faces were bright with remembrance. Kelly saw Somers coming toward her.
“That is exactly what I was doing,” she announced into the microphone. “I was following my father’s instructions.”
There was a murmur as she moved to the front of the stage.
“And he had instructions for you, as well, when he appeared to me last night during my moments of private devotion,” she said, shooting a threatening look at Somers. “My saintly father was concerned about the lack of love, the lack of compassion, the lack of unity that he sees among his people. He’s concerned that his words have been forgotten. That his divinely ordained purpose is no longer observed here.”
The small group sitting on the steps and at the edge of the stage responded with words of concern. She walked past them to stay away from Somers. She saw the older man motion to his assistants to close in on her.
“The Prophet told me that the Chosen Ones…you, my friends…want the rewards of the work you have not labored at. My father rejects the idea that you could join him without an invitation, without being worthy.”
Cries of “No…no!” rang out from the benches.
“He told me that you have been deceived by the words of a self-appointed leader who is not recognized by the Prophet Michael or by the heavenly hosts above. This man is that deceiver.”
She pointed the microphone at Somers, only to have it torn from her hand by Shawn Hobart. She ignored him, continuing to address the shocked congregation in a loud voice.
“This man was cast out of the Mission before the final day. Tyler Somers is a coward and a thief. He is a dying man who wants a flock to lead to Hell, as that is the only place where he’ll be spending etern—”
The explosion across the lake turned everyone’s head at that direction.
The silence in the camp lasted for only a moment as Somers snatched the microphone from Hobart’s hand.
“This is our moment,” he shouted. “Our enemies are upon us.”
He reached for her with one hand, but she ducked away.
“Do you hear them? It is just as I foretold,” Somers continued. “The gates have burst in, and the unbelievers are among us. Now is our time. We must leave this wasteland behind us. We must rise through the Eternal Door.”
The ministers on the stage had leaped into action the moment Somers began to speak. Caleb and Sharpe were pouring a bottle of the red liquid into the font, and Hobart was carrying the other bottle to them from the side of the stage.
Kelly moved to the front and called out to the people gathered beneath her. “What this imposter is telling you is not true. This is not the time and he is not the guide!”
“Do not listen to her,” Somers shouted into the mike. “She is the imposter! Someone silence her blasphemies!”
“My father told me—”
Kelly stopped dead as she felt a man’s hand wrap tightly around her ankle. She looked down and her heart almost stopped at the sight of his face.
“Ian,” Kelly whispered, staring at him in shock. She crouched down. “You’re—”
“Come on. Come down,” he told her urgently as Tyler Somers continued to exhort the confused congregation.
“Stop him!” Somers yelled into the microphone, pointing at him. “I told you our enemies are against us. This is the agent of Satan, himself. This man is the Anti-Christ. Stop him before he taints us all.”
Kelly took his hand and jumped off the stage and onto the ground. Jade lifted her head off her mother’s shoulder as Ian started to pull Kelly toward the end of the benches.
“Ian!” the little girl called out happily.
Somers was still yelling into the microphone and the entire scene was one of chaos. Caleb and Hobart were rushing across the stage toward them, and two thugs appeared, cutting off any chance of escape, moving in to the end of the row, blocking their path.
The pistol appeared in Ian’s hand in an instant and screams and shouts came from the congregation. Somers was still shrieking, but Caleb and the others stopped at the sight of the gun. Kelly felt herself and Jade suddenly yanked against Ian’s body and the gun pressed to her forehead.
“You come one step closer,” Ian shouted, “and she dies!”
Kelly knew what he was doing. He was trying to buy them time.
“He’s lying. Stop him,” Somers yelled into the microphone to those in pursuit. He turned back to the rest of the congregation. “Join me, my brothers and sisters, come and take the cups.”
“I’ve been waiting twenty two years for this,” Ian said loudly. “My wife died at Butler’s Mission. She was killed the night of the suicide. I’ve been waiting a lifetime to avenge her death.”
“The cups. They’re here. Come and take them,” Somers motioned toward the row of drink-filled cups lining the very edge of the stage. He acted as if Ian and his taking of Kelly and Ja
de were nothing but a nuisance. Kelly saw Janice move quietly to the front of the stage.
Caleb jumped down and grabbed a woman off the first bench, shoving her toward the drinks.
“Hurry! Now!” He grabbed the next person and pushed her in the same direction, too.
“Not without Luna-K.” The woman shook her head and looked in confusion and fear toward Ian, still holding a gun to Kelly’s head. Other people backed up from the stage.
“My father, the Prophet Michael, does not support this act,” Kelly shouted to them. “This is all wrong. The time of Tribulation has not passed. All of this talk of the Rapture is Ty Somers’s deceit. It comes not from my father, but from a sick mind.”
The crowd shrank back more. Some of the people started to cry. Others huddled with each other in fear.
“Get them. Bring them to me,” Somers screamed.
Guns appeared from under the robes, revealing the true colors of those closest to Somers. Caleb continued to line people up by force, as Hobart pushed cups into their hands.
“Luna-K,” a woman screamed. “Luna-K, save us.”
“Luna-K will take the first drink. She will guide you,” Ty announced.
Kelly hadn’t realized until that moment that another gun was directed at them from the stage. This one was held by Joshua Sharpe, and it was pointing at Jade. She pressed her child’s head on her shoulder and shrank back against Ian. They were surrounded by armed men. They had nowhere to go.
Ty raised a hand. “I’ll let your daughter go with this man. They can leave the camp so long as you join us on our journey.” He paused, motioning toward Sharpe. “Or he will shoot and she’ll die, and then you’ll die, too, along with your lover. We’ll have you traveling the road with us one way or the other, Luna-K.”