Creed

by Trisha Leaver

  “And I’m more than happy to help him,” Mike added.

  Joseph yanked back the heavy wooden door, his voice shaking, his hands trembling as he spoke. “I’m not looking for a fight. I just want to get inside the shed.”

  I stood completely immobile, staring at those hands. Big and calloused, they looked like they’d never seen a drop of lotion. The fingernails were short but jagged, and a variety of scars—some fresh, some healed over—blanketed his skin.

  “What’s in that shed that’s so important to you?” I asked.

  “Safety.” Joseph paused before taking his first tentative step inside. He disappeared into the darkness and I leaned forward, straining to see or hear something … anything.

  I heard the strike of a match seconds before I saw the flash of light, and my nose burned with the unmistakable smell of sulfur. Joseph’s shape came into view, the light intensifying as he placed the glass globe onto the lantern and adjusted the wick. In that brief, unguarded second, I saw the defeat weighing him down. I didn’t know if he was nuts or brave or stupid, but the one thing I could tell was that he was desperate.

  “Nobody will come in here. We’re safe,” Joseph said, coaxing us in. “But if it makes you feel better, there’s a board over there in the corner you can wedge underneath the handle.”

  Mike eyed the board but made no move to retrieve it. I knew what he was thinking. That piece of wood could trap us in as easily as it could keep somebody out. I was with him; I wanted a quick escape should things go wrong.

  Luke grabbed my hand and inched us backward out of Joseph’s reach. “Hey,” he whispered as he tried to gentle the death-grip I had on his hand. “Don’t worry. Like Mike said, there are three of us and one of him.”

  “Sure,” I mumbled. Spending an entire night in a stranger’s house was messed up enough. Expecting me to walk into a dimly lit room with a kid we knew nothing about was too much.

  “Is there any other light?” I asked.

  “Nope, this is all I could get my hands on,” Joseph said as he turned a knob on the base of the lantern, sending the flame flaring a bit higher. I could see the entire shed now. Mike was standing guard by the door, Joseph was sitting on the floor in the corner, and Luke was plastered to my side.

  “We just left a neighborhood full of empty houses. Why didn’t you grab a flashlight or another lantern?” Luke asked as he let go of my hand and took up a spot on the floor opposite Joseph.

  “There’s no way I could take anything without being noticed. He catalogs everything. Everything.”

  My mind flashed back to last night. Had we eaten anything? Taken anything by accident? Left anything behind? I’d done the dishes, and I was quite sure we’d left the six copies of that disgusting book somewhere in that living room, along with our tire iron and flashlight. Crap.

  Instinctively, I put my hand down and brushed the floor before sitting. Except for a thin layer of dirt and a few nails poking up from the floorboards, it was bare. There were no windows, no sources of light other than the lantern, and, from what I could see, the shed was completely empty—no tools, no equipment, not even a freaking chair to sit on.

  For as small and empty as this shed was, it felt huge, each corner vibrating with a terrifying energy. “Why aren’t there any tools in here?”

  “Because it’s not really a shed,” Joseph replied.

  “Then what the hell is it?” Luke asked as he picked up the lantern and raised it over his head. “Holy hell, what is that for?”

  I looked up, my breath catching in my throat as my own reflection stared down at me. “What’s with all the mirrors?”

  I gestured for Luke to lift the lantern again and inspected the ceiling once more. The mirror ran the entire length of the shed from edge to edge, no seams. Nothing to break the reflection.

  “Damn,” Mike said as he stepped away from the door. He looked up, turning a full circle with a stupid smirk on his face. “Done right, this room could have some serious potential.”

  Joseph cocked his head, wondering what Mike was talking about. Luke grumbled for him to knock it off, and I kicked him. Mike swore, but he got the message and returned to his post by the door.

  “My father calls this place ‘The Livor.’ A place for reflection.” Joseph’s voice changed, went softer as he recited something from memory. “ ‘Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity.’ ”

  I stared at him, my mind running through the few Sunday masses the Hoopers had talked me into attending. I didn’t remember that verse. What I did remember was first-year Latin. I hadn’t retained much of that dead language, but I knew for a fact that the term “livor” had absolutely nothing to do with reflection.

  “Livor means punishment, not reflection,” I said.

  Joseph shrugged, as if he didn’t understand the difference. “That mirror is for penance. To find yourself. This is where you go, where he sends you, when you’re lost.”

  “Lost?” I asked, not following what he was saying.

  “When you stray from the teachings,” Joseph explained.

  “That’s … messed up,” I said.

  Luke wrapped his arm around my back as Mike cracked open the door. He peered out briefly before closing it, then turned his attention back to us. “All quiet,” he said.

  Joseph straightened up and moved over to where Luke was sitting. “Hold the lantern up again, toward the wall.”

  I followed the light’s path. Hundreds of jagged scratches marred the walls, as if a wild animal had been turned loose in this tiny, confined space. I traced one with my index finger, drawing back suddenly as a sharp splinter of wood jabbed me.

  “My father has a theory,” Joseph started. “Before you can rebuild a man in God’s image, you must break him down, strip him of his earthly sins so the blood of his soul can run pure. No one ever gets out until they’re broken and reborn. It could take days, but without food or water, nobody lasts long.”

  He paused for a minute, his eyes glossing over. I didn’t want to know where he’d gone or what memory he was reliving. With a visible shake, he brought himself back and continued. “There’s no sound, no food, nothing to distract you. Only the image of yourself staring back at you. Eventually, you give in and tell him whatever he wants to hear, become whoever he wants you to be, just to get out.”

  Joseph took the lantern form Luke’s hand and lowered it back to the floor. “Nobody ever comes here willingly. Trust me, this is the last place he’d think to look for us.”

  I turned my attention back to the ragged scratches, my mind filling with images of tiny kids screaming as they tried to get out. “Those marks are from people, aren’t they? Like someone trying to claw their way out?”

  Joseph wrung his hands tightly in front of him. “I’ve spent six full days in here, heard nothing but the irrigation motor, saw nothing my own reflection. Trust me, I came out saying whatever, doing whatever, and believing whatever I was told to.”

  Mike leaned into the light of the lantern, his face twisting in disbelief. “Are you for real?” He made eye contact with Luke, then me. “God, don’t tell me you guys are buying any of this crap, because—”

  Luke held up his hand, cutting Mike off. “It doesn’t matter what he’s selling, Mike. My only concern is how we’re going to get out of here.”

  “Wait,” I said waving both of them off. “You can’t keep kids holed up in here for days. There are laws against that. I mean, I know there are … ” I trailed off, not wanting to admit how I knew.

  “According to my father, there’s no law outside of his law … outside of God’s law.”

  I clutched my stomach, afraid the nausea that was building was going to force me out of the shed and back into the open. I had to swallow twice to get my next words out. “I don’t understand. If this is some ki
nd of freaky solitary confinement, then why is it all the way out here where the adults can’t see it?”

  “It’s safer out here. You know, in case an outsider passes through town. No one would hear or see anything. What happens here in Purity Springs stays here. Plus, the noise of the irrigation pumps drowns out the screams, and—”

  “Wait,” Luke interrupted. “People pass through?”

  Joseph smiled, amused, it seemed, at the simplicity of Luke’s revelation. “Yup. People stop here for gas all the time. They fill up and grab something to eat or drink, then move on. We need the money to keep the town running, and my father doesn’t mind people passing through, as long as they pay for whatever they buy and keep going.”

  “Great,” Mike drawled. “So what makes us so special? We’d be happy to pay for our gas and keep going. I’ll slip him an extra fifty if that would help.”

  “He doesn’t want your money, and he won’t let you go. He thinks you’re with me. He thinks you’re the ones who tried to help my mom get out. That you’re helping me now.”

  “But we’re not. We weren’t,” I argued.

  Joseph shuffled his feet, his eyes trained on the ground. “I know that, but you don’t get it. Like I said, the only truth that matters in Purity Springs is his.”

  Thirteen

  I finally grasped what this tiny, dark room actually was: a twisted way of sending a naughty child into the corner, complete with locks and sensory deprivation. What I didn’t get was why Joseph hadn’t left this place years ago.

  “Why are you still here? You said you were hiding from him, and that your mom was trying to get out. Why haven’t you run away?”

  “It’s not that easy. I grew up here. It’s who I am,” he answered.

  I wasn’t buying that. It took me twelve years to get out from under my dad’s control, but I finally did. And I wasn’t planning on stopping with the Hoopers. I was going to put as much distance between myself and my past as I could. I had college to look forward to … a place to start over with Luke.

  “We don’t have phones,” he said. “And up until three days ago, I had no idea what was past these fields. In fact, I’d been told—no, warned—not to go looking.”

  “I’m not following,” I said, and from the look on Luke’s face, he wasn’t either.

  “Everybody here can trace their roots back to one of ten original families. Nobody new moves in, and nobody born here ever leaves. That’s how we keep our town pure, free of the evil that lives beyond.”

  “Ah, sorry, don’t mean to interrupt your history lesson,” Mike cut in. “But help me out here, because I’m a little hung up on that whole ‘lives beyond’ comment. We are what lives beyond. Us and about five billion other people who don’t give a rat’s ass about your little town.”

  “I believe you. My mom did too. That’s why she was getting ready to leave. She wanted to take us with her. I was helping her. We had a plan and a place to stay. We were supposed to leave two days ago, but … ”

  “But what?” Mike’s asked, his tone becoming more abrupt each time he spoke. “I don’t see anybody stopping you. Get up and leave.”

  “I wouldn’t get a half-mile from here before my father found me. Besides, I can’t.”

  “You keep saying that,” I yelled. “How do you know that? How do you know if you’ve never even tried?”

  “Because I know what happens to people who try,” Joseph replied. “My father caught my mother talking to some couple who stopped for gas last week. They had a map out. He got suspicious. Angry.”

  “Are you saying that your mom wasn’t allowed to read a map, to speak with someone who lives on the other side of your town-limits sign?” Luke asked.

  “Technically, it’s not a sign. It’s the giant oak tree by the water tank twenty-two miles west of here. But yes, that’s correct.”

  Joseph averted his gaze, focusing on a nail pulling loose from the floorboards. I could see the shame in his eyes, in the way his entire body curled in on itself. I wanted to know if his mom was asking for directions, if she was planning on escaping and that’s what got her killed. “Was she asking for directions?”

  He smiled at my question. “Yes. She had a sister on the outside. That’s where we were heading. She was trying to figure out how to get there.”

  “Mary?” I asked, remembering the first words he’d spoken to me in the street.

  “When I saw you, I thought … ” He paused for a second, then shrugged. “I thought that maybe when we didn’t show up at her house, she figured something was wrong and sent somebody … sent you to see what had happened.”

  I shook my head. “You said your father killed your mom. How? Why?” It didn’t make any sense. Why would this Mary lady send help to someone who was already dead? Unless she didn’t know …

  “He wasn’t trying to kill her, only bleed her,” Joseph said, and we all stared at him in confusion. “Purify her. Release the evil. You know … bloodlet her.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Mike asked. He was standing closer now, glaring down at Joseph.

  I grabbed Joseph’s arm, my fingers digging into his skin. “If what you’re saying is true, then why are you sitting here doing nothing? You need to head to the edge of town and keep walking. I mean, it doesn’t get much easier than that.”

  Joseph looked at us, at me, with an intensity I couldn’t read. “I can’t.”

  I knew there was more to this than he was saying, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the pieces of his story to line up. No one would willingly stay here. No one.

  “Can’t or won’t?” Luke asked, and for the first time I realized he’d been quiet for the better part of the conversation. But he had that gleam in his eyes, the one he got whenever he was watching the offensive line of an opposing team, trying to predict their next play from their formation alone. Luke was paying attention all right, probably more so than Mike or me.

  “Won’t,” Joseph replied.

  Luke studied him for a minute, his silence and scrutinizing stare making me nervous. Then he smirked, and I knew he’d draw some conclusion, picked up on something I’d missed. “What’s her name?” he finally asked.

  Joseph didn’t answer immediately, and Luke grinned, convinced he’d pegged him right. “So? Her name?”

  “Eden,” Joseph whispered. “But it’s not what you think.”

  “You have no idea what we think,” I said. “But if your father is the maniac you’re making him out to be, there’s no way he’s gonna let you walk back in there and take her with you.”

  “You don’t get it,” Joseph said. “I can’t leave her.”

  “Sure you can,” Mike piped in. “Trust me, there are plenty of other girls out there. I can even introduce you to some.”

  Luke and I both swung our heads in Mike’s direction, more than a little disgusted. Luke would never leave me behind. Never. The fact that Mike would pissed me off.

  Joseph shook his head, a grim acknowledgement that the answer to his problems was far more complicated than I was making it out to be. “It’s not like that. Eden is my sister, and I won’t leave her behind. I promised my mother I’d keep her safe, that if her plan didn’t work, I’d find some way to get Eden out of Purity Springs. And that’s what I’m going to do.”

  I got what he was saying. I was lucky enough to be an only child. One less person in this world for my father to beat up on. One less person for my mom to abandon. But if I had a sister … well, I’d like to think I wouldn’t leave her behind either.

  “Does Eden know what your father did?” I asked.

  He shrugged and turned away. I could feel the guilt pouring off him like a live wire. “I was there when he bled my mom. I begged him to stop, told him he was going too far. When she died, he pulled the town together, told them that his ‘sacrifice’ was for the greater good. His sacrifice. HIS. My
mother is dead, and somehow he’s managed to convince the entire town that her death was necessary. That it couldn’t be stopped.”

  “What did you do?” I asked, wondering whether he’d stood up to his father in public, told everybody in this town the truth about what had happened.

  “Nothing,” Joseph replied. “I lost it and ran.”

  I got the running part. What I didn’t get was why he’d stopped. I knew he wanted to save his sister and all, but at some point you gotta recognize your limitations. If this guy was truly the monster Joseph was describing, then he couldn’t do this alone.

  I suddenly realized that Joseph knew that. I realized it was why we were here, camped out in the shed, staring at clawed walls and mirrored ceilings. He wanted, no, he needed our help.

  “I’ve been watching outsiders pass through this town since I was born, and never once did they pose any threat or inflict any harm. They got what they needed and moved on. But my father told me not to be fooled, that the devil had two faces—one charming and meant to draw you in, the other full of sinful pride.”

  I looked from Luke to Mike, wondering if they were listening to the same crap as me. Mike looked amused; Luke had a blank stare of disbelief covering his face.

  “I made it three miles outside of town yesterday before I stopped and sat down, waiting for whatever evil lurks out there to find me,” Joseph continued.

  “And?” I prompted.

  “And nothing. I sat there for three hours and didn’t see anything but a few birds. Nothing evil. Nothing bad. Nothing.”

  “He hasn’t come looking for you yet?” Luke asked.

  “Oh, he did. He’s searching for me now.”

  I spun around, surveying the dimly lit room. I knew his father wasn’t here. I knew the door was shut and Mike was standing in front of it. Whatever we’d seen outside the shed was gone, replaced by dead silence. But that didn’t stop me from looking.

  “And that’s your problem, isn’t it?” Mike said. “He knows you’ll come back, that you won’t leave without your sister. Your father has you by the balls and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.”