The Risen: Courage

by Marie F. Crow

  “What is this? Did I forget a holiday? Hallmark invent a new card while I wasn’t looking? Happy Kick the Blonde Day everybody!” Aimes shouts, outstretching her arms to further add to her exaggerated angst.

  “It’s like kick the can, but with better tits.” Rhett’s dark voice is shocking and seductive at the same time from behind us.

  To say we spin to see him would not fully explain the motion I made to quickly see behind me. If I could learn to move this quickly always, I might not keep finding myself at the bottom of a pile of Risen.

  Travis chuckles a sound of reprimand. He says, “Now Rhett, we have talked about that mouth of yours. Sinning starts with the mind and follows the tongue. You must remember this.”

  Rhett stretches along the doorframe like a lazy cat. “It’s not my tongue I want to sin with, Reverend.” He couldn’t give Aimes a more poignant look and she couldn’t turn any more pink even if she were competing with the streaks in her hair.

  “Rhett!” Travis snaps his voice, but Rhett doesn’t flinch. His eyes ascend from Aimes to Travis with deadly precision. My numbness falters being so close to his mood swing. Even Travis has to recover some of his dignity under such a stare.

  “Rhett,” Travis starts again, calmer with a more respectful edge, “perhaps it would be best if you left your inner-demons elsewhere. With consideration to the girls’ feelings, of course.”

  Rhett smiles an instant beam of teeth. “Of course,” he replies, but the smile never penetrates the ice of his eyes. With the same lazy cat-like attitude, he watches Travis and the men around us but doesn’t say anything more.

  Travis walks towards me with one arm extended in a mockery of sincere friendship. I fight against the shudder my body wants to do as he wraps it around me, engulfing me in his cologne as he pulls me from Aimes. A stale cologne that is too sweet to be male and too musky to be female. It eats at my numbness as my skin crawls.

  “What can I help you with, Helena?” Travis asks me. He has dialed down the smile to that of one a good friend would wear when greeting one another. He sounds almost sincere with his desire to help me. I can hear the hinges being pulled back on the trap and yet I still find myself putting my neck out.

  I don’t try to lie to him. Someone such as Travis has too much skill in doing that himself. He would see through it before I could see that he had. Honesty is the best policy someone once lied to me. So, I try it now.

  “I want to try to understand,” I start, leaving no ambition in my voice, “I want to know what happened to start this mission of yours.”

  Just as I had suspected him to, Travis stares at me, trying to read my face. He nods, his face a serious look of stillness when I pass the test. Just another sheep to the flock, that’s me.

  “It’s always been my mission to bring the people back to their roots; to their very foundation of religious beliefs, if you will. Now the people have no choice but to see their way back to Him. It’s glorious!” He exclaims that last part like a man in love. Maybe he is. “I saw what was happening all around us. I saw the sinners being contorted with their black souls. They became the evil that lived inside them.” Travis cups his spare hand in front of me like he’s holding something precious and fragile. “In one fell swoop, God picked his survivors, his namesakes, and showed us the proof we needed of His glory. The proof so many had dared to forget.”

  “Why? Why did you take up the call so unwavering?”

  “As I said,” he inhales as if I have insulted him, “it was my duty as a man of God.”

  “Carol,” Rhett remarks in his boredom.

  Travis’ hand tightens across my shoulders, squeezing me, keeping me from looking over my shoulder.

  “A woman?” Aimes asks with a little more interest than Rhett had for the topic. “I thought you Holy Rollers couldn’t double dip?”

  “You must ignore Rhett.” Travis is dripping with charm to cover the fact he is losing his poster-boy perfection. I felt his hand clamp reactively on my arm at the mention of the name. “He has been misled by the gossip of the Devil.”

  “I’m not sure Selma would appreciate such characterization,” Rhett says with his face still a map of boredom. I know better. He can’t look at Travis or I or his smirk will ruin the game.

  I watch the muscles by Travis’ mouth twitch. Seems Selma likes to share everyone’s little secrets in hopes of keeping her bedmate.

  “I’m sure it was just a mistake on how you interpreted the topic.” Travis is forcing his smile. His voice comes from behind clenched teeth.

  “Maybe,” Rhett shrugs one shoulder not even investing his whole body into the conversation. “Something about how she was a member of your church. You two had a little thing going on. When her husband found out he was going to let the church know what kind of man you were,” Rhett pauses to look at Aimes and I, “Oh, yeah. Travis has a thing for other men’s women. When Travis here found out his gig was up, he shot the husband, claiming he was possessed by demons that made his “tongue foul with lies”.”

  Travis pivots losing the composure of his facade. Before he opens his mouth, he exhales his smokescreen, letting it replace the charm he momentarily let slide. With a smile that reminds me of the woman who has let his secrets slip, he looks back to me with an attempt to ignore Rhett completely. It’s too late. Travis has shown his hand and now Rhett knows just the cards to deal to forever undermine him. You never let Rhett know the kinks in your armor. Rhett only has one rule for a fight and that is to win. Once he knows how to beat you, it’s playtime for him and his smile is matching the man’s who is trying to ignore him.

  “Was she at least pretty?” I ask, forcing Travis to stay in the topic. If Rhett wants to play, I’ll shuffle the deck for him.

  “You shouldn’t listen to idle gossip, Helena.” Travis’ eyes do not reflect the harmless man his face is trying to cast him. “If one were so inclined, just imagine what they might think about you?”

  “I’m not the one shooting my flock,” I evenly reply.

  “…or screwing them,” Aimes points out, still irked with the new declared holiday.

  I’m the main target for his eyes. They stare at me from behind the curtain he keeps between the real man and the ones he wants to feign with his holy act. No one in the room can see him as I am seeing him now and this is the window I have been waiting for. This is the stage I wanted us to stand upon.

  “She got the shot didn’t she? She became the very thing you now have declared war on. Now you see her face on every one of those things you kill, don’t you?” I whisper to him making the room grow restless with our hushed conversation. “The children in the trees, she was with child, wasn’t she?”

  I watch my words hit home. I watch his eyes flash a dark warning while his smile still beams his white teeth. I have played the room to our drama by whispering to him. They strain to hear any shred to satisfy their curiosity. They are staring at our little huddle with watchful eyes trying to read our locked expressions. Even Rhett who was so bored a second ago is fully standing as he tries to guess which way this will go.

  “Or did you just want it to be? You didn’t shoot him because he knew the truth. You shot him because you knew. You would never have her or the child she carried. She was going back to her husband leaving you the fool, and everyone who saw you for the pillar you wanted them to, would also know the truth. You’re not holy, Travis. You’re just another sucker being played by the lonely housewife.”

  I never saw his hand reaching for my throat. He was upon me before I could brace for the attack, blocking the wind from my lungs that my shock was gasping to attain. I did see his fist coming for my face though, but I didn’t try to block it. I let him connect as Rhett fought to get through the God Squad. I let him strike me as the room began to fill with the people from the hall. I let my body go limp, lying at his feet for all to see when he dropped me. Travis isn’t holy. He’s
just another sucker being played.

  “Remove them!” Travis is smoothing his hair back to its slicked style as I cower from him on the floor. I can read the satisfaction on his face. Pity for him, but so can the rest of the room.

  “I wouldn’t.” Rhett only glances once to the few men still following orders. He kneels to lift me to my feet, and as he examines my face, I have my first hint at how bad it really is.

  He props me up against the wall, slowly turning my face this-way-or-that as his eyes become veiled. Helping me into the arms of Aimes, he turns to lead us from the room. I never saw Travis’ hands and he never saw Rhett’s fist.

  Rhett doesn’t even slow in his exit. He doesn’t exchange a look or a word – just his fist. Travis stumbles and falls backwards from the blow and Rhett still just keeps walking right past him. He leads us through the hanging jaws, the whispering behind palms, the hands that reach out to comfort me and right past Selma. She reaches for Rhett with a look of shock and confusion, and when he dodges her outstretched hand, her mood simmers to anger.

  Ryan is still sitting on the spot in the floor where we met him. His daughter has been joined by April. They skip in unison creating the perfect loop around the father figure. As we approach I hear his daughter shout, “Goose!” and watch her run as April chases her with their own rules for the game. For a moment, the hallway has life again. Their laughter thrives as they run. It pierces the veil of mourning that has shrouded over this place.

  I feel the first splash of my blood from my face. Staring at the red drops on my hands, I am reminded of another place where I watched children laugh as blood pooled around me. They skipped and played as they waited to escape from their imprisonment, an imprisonment I caused. I remember how their blood covered my hands as now mine seeps into the same lines and crevices. I spilt their blood entombing us in the nightmare we can’t be free from. Now, I will spill my own so these children will not become victims, too. I will spill all of it if I need to. There will be no more tiny bodies swaying from protesting ropes. No more burn piles. Hopefully, no more added pages to my portfolio.

  Let Travis come for me. Let him try his best to do his worst. I will be waiting. With blood-covered hands, I will be waiting.

  CHAPTER 31

  “What the hell happened to you?” Lawless explodes as Aimes and I follow Rhett to our loft.

  “She was texting while riding her broom again,” Aimes tells him, helping me to one of the plastic chairs we now claim as comforts.

  It’s no surprise they turn to accuse Rhett with our history. Before I can say anything to defend him, Dolph comes through the screaming doors with Paula right behind him. He’s holding the same bag she carried Christmas morning. A bag no one can look at and still have the power of speech. I might have to get one of those for myself.

  “I didn’t think I would be seeing you so soon,” Paula says, titling my head back between her strong hands. She repeats the same tilting process as Rhett had. She just isn’t as kind about it.

  “I guess news of religious upheaval travels fast?” I ask as the headache grows to nausea.

  “No, Dolph does,” Paula says, not in the least bit interested in me personally. She has switched to a professional role turning off any amount of friendship.

  “I actually went to get her for Travis. I didn’t think Rhett would stop with just one.” Dolph’s southern voice comes from somewhere to my right.

  “Travis did this?” Marxx cautiously asks. I don’t have to see him to know he’s putting the pieces together. “What did you do to him?”

  “Would you believe me if I tell you nothing at all?”

  “No,” all the men say with almost perfected timing.

  “Nothing at all,” I say it anyway.

  “I thought you were going to let us know before you went and found anymore trouble?” Marxx asks with a touch of parental reprimand in his words.

  Paula saves me from answering him that it was Risen I told them I would warn them about, not crazy preachers. She says, “I don’t think the nose is broken. I’d clean out the lacerations on your cheeks, but with how often Travis washes his hands, I think you’ll be fine. How’s the stomach?” Robotically, she tries to lift my shirt before I can squirm from her inspection.

  “Fine,” I say pushing against her hands. “It’s fine.” Thanks Paula, lets just keep pointing out how skilled I am in ending up broken.

  She hands a stack of the never-ending supply of gauze to Dolph. “Put pressure on her nose until it stops. If it keeps bleeding, let me know and I’ll take another look at it,” she tells him.

  He automatically hands the stack to Aimes not wishing to be involved in the drama that will erupt with putting his hands on me with so many male egos still leering.

  “Whatever you are up to, Helena, think it through. Really think it through,” Paula says leveling me with a knowing look that I bend under. I turn my eyes from her and she turns to leave. One sideways glance to Chapel, and she exits with the same air of authority as she had entered.

  It leaves a vacuum of stressed silence. They are all waiting for me to explain and I’m not sure I really know myself. Luckily I don’t have to.

  “How many saw?” Marxx asks. He has moved so he can see my face over Aimes’ hands. Marxx would figure it out first. A sound that resembles a laugh from Chapel and I know he has put it together as well.

  “Enough,” I answer from behind the packed gauze.

  “Enough to talk about it?” Chapel joins in, leaving Dolph and Lawless still doing the math.

  Rhett laughs, “You provoked him on purpose!”

  “I’m not the one that brought up the woman,” I answer defensively. “You provoked him, too.”

  “Rhett could have taken the hit.” Lawless is finally on the same page and he doesn’t like the words written before him.

  “Oh, she took the first hit fine. It was the third and fourth that put her on the floor.” Aimes doesn’t even hint that she is aware of how much she has stirred the cauldron as she checks my nose. The bleeding has stopped, leaving only the feeling of congestion in its absence. “Don’t look at Rhett like that, Lawly. The God Squad had him pinned. Took seven of them. I think a few were just trying to look like they were helping though.”

  “Helena may not have a broken nose, but Travis does,” Dolph says.

  Rhett looks to Dolph with neither appreciation nor friendship saying, “Didn’t know you were there.”

  “Wasn’t for the whole thing,” Dolph starts seeing where he has landed himself, “Ruby, one of the more gossiping women, stopped me saying that she saw Helena and her blonde friend-”

  “What, Ruby didn’t get her holiday card either?” Aimes interrupts.

  “She said they were asking about Travis. Knowing Helena the way I do, I knew it wasn’t going to end well,” Dolph continues, not taking the bait from Aimes.

  “So you know Hells now?” Rhett doesn’t relent with the pressure. A part of him is still hearing the evil whispering of Selma in his ear just as she wanted him to.

  “Everyone knows she’s not exactly afraid to step in it.” Simon is leaning on the wall near the room he and Dolph have taken. “Well, everyone but Travis.”

  “He knows now,” Aimes tells Simon and they both share a small laugh.

  “You really think that will work? You provoke him to lose it and the whole place suddenly is over him?” Law asks, reclining in his chair trying his best to not look at the damage on my face.

  “No. I think it’s just the start,” I answer honestly. “Between my face and what Rhett suggested, he is going to have a lot of doubts now. He told them we were the dangerous ones. He said we were the ones to fear because of our “dark ways”. I think he is going to have a hard time spinning this into scripture.”

  It’s Rhett’s turn to be stared at as they wait for another explanation. It’s kind of nice to
be part of the staring contest and not the one being stared at, for once.

  He sighs, sliding down their wall to the floor instead of taking a seat. “Selma mentioned that before Travis took the freak show on the road, he had an affair with a married woman. He killed her husband and blamed it on the guy becoming possessed.”

  “She found out she was pregnant with her husband’s baby and was going back to him. I believe Travis shot him because he was jealous. I don’t think he ever really feared what his church might say.” I finished the explanation.

  Marxx has been watching me the whole time. I really have to find a way to keep him and Chapel apart with how fast Marxx is picking up the unnerving habits of the other man.

  “I guess your face is the proof of that?” Marxx asks with his serious eyes watching me still.

  “Surprise!” I say, beaming a mockery of a smile. “She became one of the Risen after that. He’s been hunting them ever since and destroying the happy family life from behind the ruse of God’s work.”

  “…and you had to figure all of that out with your face?” Simon asks from his spot behind us.

  “If you want to step back and lead them, my face may thank you.” My mouth moved on its own again and I wince from its honesty.

  “She’s right,” Dolph shockingly agrees. “Those people are going to need you. They are stuck right now between Travis and the MC. You can help stop it all before anyone else has to get hurt.”

  “Like I stopped J.D.?” The amusement has faded from Simon’s voice with his question.

  “If you don’t move past it, they won’t.” Dolph is staring at his friend now. I have a feeling these are things he has wanted to say for a long time. “What happened is done. It’s no one’s fault who is still alive. Letting it go doesn’t mean you have to let Shelia or Kira go. You’re not betraying them by living. You’re betraying Shelia by letting our people get hurt. If she was still here, it would have been her in that room demanding answers from Travis.”

  We don’t speak. Our heads swivel watching someone else’s drama. Being at the center of it for so long, it’s almost uncomfortable to be sitting here between them.