The Salvation State

by Marcus Damanda

  The final stanza of “Washed in the Blood” ended, and the singing stopped. The procession stopped too. The Reverend’s voice carried without amplification. “Blessings of the Lord,” he intoned.

  His voice was rich, deep with serenity and command. But there was something … off about his face. It was difficult for Rebecca to pinpoint what it was, exactly—Mrs. Black was half in the way, from her angle—but it was something in the jawline. The mouth…

  No. It was the teeth. They were too big, and they stretched his lips in an unnatural way.

  “Blessings of the Lord,” the congregation repeated after him. Rebecca made sure her voice was heard among them. Thankfully so did Caroline. Rebecca could only hope, unable to see Daniel through the two lines of kids, that he was taking part as well.

  “Let us pray.”

  All heads bowed.

  “We thank you, Lord God, for the body and blood of your Son. By eating His body, we become members of His body. Help us to be the agents of your providence in a blind, ignorant world. By drinking His blood, we have taken on His life, which was not ended by the cross, nor smothered in the tomb, but lasts for evermore. We thank you for this, the medicine of immortality, the antidote to death. All this we pray in the most holy name of Jesus Christ, because He is alive, and He reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit. You are one God, now and forever, Amen.”

  “Amen,” the campers said, opening their eyes.

  And then, unexpectedly, Mrs. Black spoke. “May the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ keep you unto eternal life.”

  Rebecca’s mother never got to do that.

  Meanwhile, the first of the campers was in position. Rebecca watched as a girl on her side of the chapel knelt in front of Wendy Scruggs to receive the sacrament, her head upturned. Mrs. Black spoke the words as she received first the body, then the blood, from Wendy.

  “His body, given for you.”

  With hands at her side, she took the wafer on her tongue and crunched it down.

  “His blood, shed for you.”

  She accepted the small plastic cup of sheep’s blood. And just as Philis had suggested, she pinched her nose before drinking it. But she drank it all in a single gulp.

  “We do this in remembrance of our Lord and Savior,” Mrs. Black said.

  Wendy took a wad of white gauze from the altar and dipped it into the blood basin. She then smeared it in the shape of the cross on the girl’s forehead. The girl accepted it without objection, even as the blood dripped from the tip of her nose. She made no move to wipe it off as she stood to return to her place near the back of the chapel.

  And the line moved.

  One by one for more than two hours, the lines crept forward, with Barney and Wendy serving while the Reverend and Mrs. Black performed the short incantation for each camper in turn. It could have been her imagination, but Rebecca could have sworn that, before they were even halfway done, the whole place reeked of blood. Had anyone ever gotten sick doing this? Surely someone must have at one time or another.

  When the Threshers received communion, it was time for her and Caroline to join the line. And even though the sacrament had seemed to last ages, now it seemed to speed up far too quickly as she found herself watching Caroline kneel before Wendy and Mrs. Black with her head upturned and her eyes closed.

  If anyone would get sick, it would be Caroline.

  Have a little faith, she scolded herself. Are you her friend or not?

  Caroline made it through. If her gait seemed a little wobbly as she departed back to her seat, Rebecca could hardly blame her. It took no small effort on her own part just to kneel in front of Wendy, who was quite young. Rebecca intuitively doubted she held any sort of legitimate rank in the church, New America Unity or otherwise.

  But it could have been worse. Mrs. Black was at least standing off to the side, watching her like a half-starved cat might regard a plate of fresh tuna. Rebecca could have been made to kneel in front of her.

  “His body, given for you.”

  She kept her eyes open, receiving the body from Wendy’s reddened fingers, listening to Mrs. Black’s hateful voice and not reacting to it.

  “His blood, shed for you. Even you.”

  She pinched her nose, receiving the blood. But at Mrs. Black’s little spiritual ad lib, a small dribble escaped her lower lip. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Mrs. Black said. “You will do this right. Miss Scruggs—again.”

  Across from her, she could now see Daniel finish his first sacrament. His mouth hung open. His teeth were pink as Barney painted a blood cross on his forehead under the Reverend’s watchful, smiling stare.

  Rebecca forced down her second helping of sheep’s blood, this time without holding her nose, and saw the ritual to its finish.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Shepherds and Sheep

  Through the service that followed, no one cleaned the blood from their foreheads. Daniel didn’t ask when he’d be allowed to scrub it off, and he had no intention of being the first to do so. He’d watch. He’d imitate.

  As it dried, the blood made thin rivulets on either side of his nose. Looking around, some of the parishioners looked like Ash Wednesday adherents, the blood smears browned to a crust that retained the original cross shapes. Others might as well have been wearing war paint. Daniel expected he was one of these. And, goddamn, it itched like a royal bitch.

  Before the sermon itself began, there were announcements. Mrs. Black was in charge of those. Twelve new adoptions were coming over by boat tomorrow, and everyone was to do their best to make sure they felt welcome. Threshers were to be certain each received the correct work assignment, but all were to chip in with their instruction and be as helpful as possible.

  And us? Daniel wondered. What are our work assignments?

  Campers were reminded that all work was suspended for today, being Sunday, and that included both studying and field work. Campers were to remember the Sabbath and keep it holy. Violators would receive Intentional Disobedience tallies—and that was no way to begin a new week on the Absolution Board, now, was it?

  Daniel gazed across the aisle to where Rebecca and Caroline were again seated. Their blood-branded faces showed as much confusion as he felt. Weren’t they supposed to go over the rules today? Did that count as studying?

  Mrs. Black went on to announce that Tori White turned eighteen on Friday, and she’d be returning to her home in Mayfield, Delaware. The celebration would be this Thursday. To help get her ready for the readjustment, her Angel Island name, “Droll,” was no longer to be used.

  “And as you all know,” Mrs. Black said, once Tori had stood and curtseyed to the applause of the congregation. “We are just one week from our annual Ceremony of the Lamb.” Her eyes glittered, and a tear escaped. “Campers who wish to present our selected honoree with a token of their appreciation and respect may begin preparing those during free time any day next week, although the identity of our honoree will remain a secret until he or she receives those tokens this Saturday night. Best to see Magda, Nero, or Drab for any suggestions, as they began that little tradition themselves three years ago and are especially good at it.”

  I’ll pass, Daniel thought.

  Eventually Mrs. Black got to Rebecca, Caroline, and Daniel, making them stand and face the congregation as she introduced them by their Angel Island names.

  “After some deliberation, I’ve decided that Wren’s sweet nature will suit her well in caring for the sheep and other animals here on the island. So, Philis, starting tomorrow, she’s all yours.”

  Caroline seemed pleased, and from behind her, Philis actually clapped.

  “Faust will be learning some basic bookkeeping and accounting.”

  Could be worse, Daniel thought. Then he remembered who was in charge of accounting.

  “I understand Faust and Asher already know each other quite well—and our most reluctant new Christian soldier will benefit by
some close proximity with our beloved Reverend. I should warn you, Asher, test results reveal he needs a little help with his higher-level math skills. Easily remedied, yes?”

  “Remedy on the way, ma’am,” Asher said. “Don’t know if it’ll be easy yet.”

  The congregation laughed, and Daniel flushed with embarrassment.

  “As for Rags, she has the loveliest singing voice,” Mrs. Black said. “But here on Angel Island, there are no soloists. We all sing together, all the time. Fortunately, she has other talents.”

  Daniel watched Rebecca stare out into the congregation and simply wait for it.

  “In a month’s time, if she’s been good, Rags will join our gym maintenance crew, maybe teach a kickboxing class or two to the young ones. Her reputation in this regard precedes her. Until then, I have it on good authority that she’s not afraid to get a little dirty.”

  Still, Rebecca offered nothing by way of response.

  “Yours, Magda. Sanitation. See to it she learns some plumbing skills while you have her, so that they may be utilized in her later position. And work her hard enough to keep her in shape.”

  “Will do, Mrs. Black.”

  Facing away from her, still staring impassively into the crowd, Rebecca answered, “Thank you, Mrs. Black.”

  Collectively the congregation’s breath caught. Daniel was surprised as well. Was Rebecca deliberately flouting the rules by speaking out of turn? Was she testing boundaries? Maybe she was testing how Mrs. Black would respond to the unexpected, or making the safest possible declaration of “Whatever, I don’t care” that she could think of.

  Whatever her motive may have been, Mrs. Black was unfazed. “You’re welcome. Have a seat, you three.”

  ****

  The truth was, Rebecca was happy with the assignment—both parts of it. As the Reverend took his place at the podium and led the congregation in prayer, it heartened Rebecca that she had been assigned to Magda, whatever the work entailed. Magda seemed, at least so far, to be kind by default—which was probably how she had risen in status among the campers as far as she had, a virtual second to Asher. Also, the prospect of teaching twelve-year-olds how to kickbox, down the line, appealed to her.

  If I’m here that long. And if I do well with Magda.

  And as long as she was getting some of the low-down and dirty work, maybe she’d get a chance to speak to Miss Paula when there was no one else around. If DC hadn’t been lying. If Miss Paula was coming.

  The prayer ended, returning her to the present. Now was the time to pay attention, get a reading on the spiritual pulse of this place. It was important to learn what was important to the Reverend, what he valued in a good Christian. Whatever it was, Rebecca intended to become it.

  But none of it will matter if he finds out about the keyring.

  ****

  “Am I allowed to say the Reverend’s creepy as hell?” Daniel asked after services, once they had escaped the flood of kids wanting to introduce themselves. He kept his voice low and made sure no one was too close when he said it.

  “I don’t think so,” Caroline said. “Allowed to say it, I mean.”

  Rebecca raised a crusty, blood-smeared eyebrow at him. “Seems normal to me. Apart from the fact that he leads eight hundred kids in vampire communion every Sunday.” She sucked in a lungful of air. “Feels good to be outside.”

  I like you. With your deformed ear and all.

  He wondered again what had happened to her, how she had gotten famous. He had a feeling Vex had not been kidding about that. She’d certainly gotten more than her fair share of attention after services, even though there weren’t all that many Forgottens who worked sanitation and plumbing.

  He also found it strange that she knew about vampires, since all those old movies and books were illegal. His own family’s forbidden stash of Old America bonfire fodder had gone away when the police had come for his father.

  That thought returned his mother to mind.

  Got to keep talking or you’ll go crazy.

  “Speaking of vampires,” he pressed on. “Is it me or were those some freakin’ horse teeth, or what?”

  “Really,” Caroline insisted as they made their way to the hedge-grown lanes of the quad and the clock tower. “Don’t, Faust, okay? It’s not worth it if the wrong person hears you.”

  Daniel shrugged. Speaking of wrong people, he wished Caroline would give him and Rebecca a moment—just one. It seemed, however, the two of them were a package deal. And they were supposed to be looking for Philis, who had promised to show Caroline and Rebecca where the sheep were. Daniel wasn’t particularly in the mood for that, for a variety of reasons, but he could see why it would be a big deal to Caroline, considering her work assignment.

  Before they could find her, Philis found them first.

  “Hey,” she called to them. She was standing by the mess hall, munching an apple, yelling with her mouth full. After swallowing, she said, “Go get your rule books and then meet me back here.”

  ****

  Learning the protocols of Angel Island didn’t count as work, Philis informed them, no more than bringing them in on the skimmer-skis had. The counselors had declared an exception. The fact was, they had been brought in on a Sunday—which hadn’t been the original plan—and needed to know how things worked as soon as possible. And the Pasture, she told them, was the perfect place to do it.

  Rebecca could see why. To get there they’d left the main complex and walked farther inland, heading south, for about a mile or so. The sheep were fenced within a broad valley that must have been a couple miles long. Here she could see no buildings and no roads other than the dirt one that had led them here, which wound steadily down to where the animals grazed.

  The hill upon which they stood had dozens of picnic tables and several large tent stations. At present no one else was here. And even though the sky was darkening, threatening rain, the breeze and the swaying grass promised a meditative peace they never could have found back on the quad among the other Forgottens—none of whom had a Q&A scheduled with Mr. Lightfoot and Mrs. Harrell at five in the afternoon.

  Rebecca’s gaze traced the long wooden fence that contained the sheep. She wondered how far they were from the southern end of the other fence, the electrified one, the one that imprisoned her along with the rest of the Forgottens.

  “What happens at punishments tonight?” she asked Philis. “Are you allowed to tell us?”

  Philis shook her head. “That’s a counselor question. You’re supposed to ask that kind of thing to Mrs. Harrell.”

  Already tried, Rebecca thought, frustrated. Fail. But she nodded.

  “How long do we have to be called serfs, anyway?” Caroline wanted to know.

  “If it bothers you,” Philis answered with a slight smile, “you’re lucky, because there’ll be twelve newcomers tomorrow. Soon as that happens, they’re the serfs and you’re just like the rest of us.”

  “Well,” said Caroline. “Not like you. You’re a Thresher.”

  Philis snorted. “Pardon me while I model the halo. So anyway, if no one’s told you yet, one term you want to avoid using around here is ‘Forgottens,’ even though that’s what everyone calls us on the outside. Mrs. Black doesn’t like it. She prefers ‘campers.’ And all of us campers fall into one of three basic categories: adoptions, applications, and ‘other.’ The adoptions come in on Mondays. Since none of you were adoptions, they just brought you when they got you. Although,” she added with a meaningful glance at Rebecca, “that it was supposed to be yesterday, not today.”

  “Yeah,” Rebecca said, abashed. “Sorry about that.”

  Daniel looked at her inquiringly.

  “I tried to run,” she said with a shrug. “Caused a bit of a stink. Pretty dumb, huh?”

  Daniel didn’t answer. He wanted to tell her, No, not dumb at all. I’m sorry you got caught.

  Would he have said it aloud, if Philis weren’t here?

  Rebecca held up the rulebook. “Gues
s we should get started.”

  ****

  With Philis gone, to Rebecca’s relief, the three of them spoke more easily—even Caroline, although she now insisted on using their Angel Island names.

  “For practice,” she said. “We have to get used to it.”

  “I’ll play along,” Daniel said. “But I’m going to remember who I am. Who you are too.”

  They did what they were supposed to do. They went through the rulebook page by page. They’d gone through it once in its entirety before Magda and Philis did them the favor of showing up in a motorized veggie cart to collect them for lunch. Afterward, they went straight back to the Pasture to continue, going through it twice more. Rebecca and Daniel took turns reading, while Caroline played scribe and wrote down all the questions they had for their counselors. There wasn’t much, really. Strange as most of the rules were, the book was pretty straightforward.

  Page 2: Campers will follow the Commandments and will study their assigned New Testaments.

  Page 3: Campers will model their behavior after the words of Jesus (in red) and the highlighted teachings of Paul and the apostles. Campers will be familiar with these writings within seven days of residency.

  Page 10: Campers will not curse, nor use words that are used to replace curse words.

  Page 10: Upon completing orientation, campers will make no mention of their lives prior to arrival at Second Salvations.

  Page 10: Upon completing orientation, campers will not speak of family, even in prayer.

  Page 12: All prayers are to be spoken aloud.

  Page 18: Campers will change clothes in private, whenever practical.

  Page 30: Campers are to use bathroom facilities one at a time. Facilities are not to be shared (i.e., Camper A brushes his/her teeth while Camper B takes a shower).

  Page 41: Campers are not to remark on one another’s physical appearance in any way. We are all made in the image of God.