Deadly Cult

by Joel Gomez-Dossi

  Inside, the organist pedaled away on an old-fashioned pump organ. He played a hymn Jamie didn’t recognize. No one else must have, either. The Faithfuls hummed the tune anyway.

  Saul entered with Obadiah, Gideon, and Peter behind him. They walked up the aisle and took their places by the altar. Peter had a forlorn look on his face, as if he’d been crying all day. He saw Jamie and Eddie, and his expression started to swing the other way. Jamie shook his head and turned away. He didn’t like treating Peter so coldly, but he couldn’t take any chances.

  At least, not in front of everybody.

  The organist stopped and the congregation stood. A group of men entered in a procession from the back. Jamie leaned over to a neighboring Faithful and asked who they were.

  “Our saviors,” the neighbor said. “The Disciples.”

  The first Disciple was drop-dead gorgeous. The others—none as hunky as the first—followed. Jamie recognized the fat man, Raamiah. He looked mean and ugly as ever.

  When the Disciples took their seats, Jamie looked. He saw a young man standing in the back, about the same age as he and Eddie. The guy stood in the shadows, behind a column. He even hid his face. He’d obviously entered with the Disciples, but appeared much lower in rank.

  Mordecai entered and the organist started pedaling again. He processed to the pulpit and began. “It’s not easy being a follower of the Brethren. We must fight evil every day.”

  “Amen,” Grandpa Swanson yelled.

  “But we knew it was a difficult task. Didn’t I tell you that? And have I ever lied to you?”

  Someone cried out, “No, you’ve never lied.”

  “Not once!” yelled another.

  “And I’m being truthful now. We’ve waited patiently for the Brethren’s time to come. We’ve worked hard, toiling in anticipation. Never asking for anything in return, simply waiting for our reward in heaven.”

  “Alleluia,” someone shouted. “Our time is coming!”

  “No,” Mordecai yelled. “The devil has taken our moment away. Sin has entered our home. There are two among us that threaten our very existence. They’re vile, dirty, and spawned from the devil.”

  “Are they the ones Saul warned us about?” a woman yelled. “What did they do?”

  “They engaged in perverted forms of sexual licentiousness. But I can’t go into the details. It’s too shameful.” Mordecai closed his eyes and turned his head. It built up the suspense, and Jamie could practically see the hate seethe inside the Faithfuls.

  Mordecai opened his eyes. “They are men who lie with men as they would with a woman.”

  The congregation gasped. Even Jamie was shocked. Did Peter tell Mordecai about us? Could he be just as bad as they are?

  Mordecai cried, “Oh, the abomination!”

  And Grandpa Swanson yelled out, “Who are the faggots?”

  Mordecai left his pulpit and walked to Jamie and Eddie’s pew. “I cannot reveal that information. At least not yet.” He stood over them and looked down. “But I will ask the two sinners to stand up and confess their sins in front of the Brethren.”

  Jamie froze. Eddie, too.

  Mordecai looked around the congregation. “I command the unrepentant sinners to reveal themselves. Now.” He looked down at Jamie and Eddie again.

  They said nothing. Mordecai pointed to a weasel-like man in the third row and asked, “Are you the vile one?”

  The man shook his head.

  “Then is it you, old man?”

  “Heck no. I’ve got grandchildren,” Grandpa replied. The congregation didn’t laugh this time.

  “Then we must be patient and wait for the sinners to confess of their own accord. But rest assured, truth and righteousness will triumph.”

  Jamie knew this was just a hint of things to come. Mordecai would divulge the transgressors’ names at a more opportune time, when the Faithfuls’ abhorrence to gays simmered at the boiling point.

  The hate would boil over, and their lives would be in danger.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  After the three-hour service, Jamie was dead tired. He avoided contact with the rest of the Faithfuls and lay down in his bunk. He tried to review the horrid events of the day, his hands outside of the blankets, of course.

  Could Peter really have betrayed us? No matter who had told Mordecai, they still had to be careful. And Jamie still had to discover who was responsible for the shooting sprees. He was sure their mission depended upon that knowledge.

  When the snores from his dorm mates became loud enough to cover up his movements, he slid down the bunk and ran to Eddie’s dorm. Eddie was rubbing his legs. He’d gone days without his medicines.

  Jamie suggested he sit out tonight’s expedition. But Eddie whispered, “Like hell I will,” and hobbled outside with him.

  Jamie’s plan was simple. He and Eddie would wait until they heard the guns, then follow the sound to where it was happening and scope it out. The best place to wait, Jamie said, was the main gate, hidden by the bushes.

  Eddie agreed with the plan. “And it’s not like you haven’t rolled around in the bushes before.”

  Jamie snickered and started walking.

  They hid when they reached the gate. Every so often, the links would give off a crackle as an insect hit the metal and was fried by the electricity surging through it. Several minutes later, Jamie started squirming.

  “You got ants in your pants?” Eddie asked.

  “No. It’s just that all of a sudden, my butt itches.”

  Eddie looked down and gasped. “Do you know what poison ivy looks like?”

  “Yeah. ‘Leaves of three, let it be,’ but that’s for summer. It is barely spring. It’s freezing out here.”

  “Jamie, poison ivy doesn’t go away in the winter. Only the leaves do, that’s why there’s another part to the rhyme. ‘Hairy vines, no friend of mine.’”

  “Fuck!” Jamie stood up and pulled down his linen pants. Red splotches began appearing on his ass. He couldn’t help scratching.

  Eddie pushed his hands away. “That’ll only make it worse. You told me that yourself.”

  “What a great pair we are. You rubbing your flea-bitten stomach and me playing with my butt like a monkey in the zoo.”

  Eddie grinned, then pointed to a nearby tree. “May I suggest we use that for our lookout instead?”

  Jamie, sneaking a scratch, agreed. From that vantage point, they could see almost everything.

  It didn’t take long before they spotted several hyped-up SUVs pulling up to the Disciples’ quarters. The doors to their log building burst open and out flew the hunky leader and his followers. But they weren’t dressed in the Brethren’s uniform of linen basics. Tonight they wore dress military uniforms, complete with M16 rifles hung over the shoulders.

  Without saying a word, they climbed into the SUVs. Their movements looked practiced. The engines revved and the SUVs sped on their way to the gate.

  “Good,” Jamie said. “When they get here, we’ll follow them.”

  “Well, I’ll try,” Eddie responded, pointing to his leg.

  The vehicles approached and the electronic gate opened. “Must be an electronic monitor in the SUV,” Jamie said. “Let’s go for it before it’s too late.”

  The last truck passed the gate, and it started to close. Jamie and Eddie jumped down from the tree. Saul and his goons appeared out of nowhere. They two-stepped toward them. Saul pointed his flashlight while the thugs pointed their guns.

  “Halt,” Saul said.

  “Shit,” Jamie said under his breath.

  “Well, if it isn’t Esrom and Roboam. What are you two doing out at this time of night? Or do I even want to know the details?”

  Jamie thought fast. “No, sir. We were going on an evening constitutional.” He poked Eddie in the stomach. “Right, Esrom?”

  “I’m Roboam,” Eddie whispered.

  “Right. Roboam.” Jamie turned to Saul and laughed. “So many names, it’s hard to remember who begat
whom.”

  “Cut the crap,” Saul ordered. “You’re lucky I don’t ask one of my boys to shoot you for trying to escape. Guess it’s my Christian love that’s preventing me.”

  “You said escape. Does that mean we’re prisoners?”

  “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. I’d prefer to think of it as voluntary servitude.”

  “You son of a—”

  Luckily, Eddie cut Jamie off before he finished. “Thank you for your edification, Brother Saul.”

  “Our great Mordecai warned me this might happen. He suggested that hard labor would bring you two in line.” Saul signaled his lackeys. They pounced on the boys, slapping handcuffs on them.

  The boys were led to the side of the chapel, where two large mounds of rocks were piled twenty feet from each other. “We need to get this area cleaned up. So, Esrom, I want you to move the rocks from that pile and put them on the other mound.”

  “That doesn’t seem so hard,” Jamie said. “Roboam, why don’t you rest while I tackle this?”

  “Not so fast,” Saul said. “Roboam will be moving the stones from the other mound and placing them onto your pile.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense. We’ll just be moving stones back and forth.”

  “Get used to it. You’ll both be doing it until your piles are gone. And that’ll take a very long time.”

  “Will you at least take off our handcuffs?” Jamie asked.

  “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” Saul sat down at the back steps of the chapel while his henchmen stood guard by each pile. “Get a move on. Time’s a wastin’!”

  Jamie and Eddie started moving their rock piles. Jamie let a smile escape. At least we know one thing. Mordecai is up to something, and the Disciples are his militia.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Zacchaeus stood at attention in the field, listening intently as Sharar addressed the Disciples. “Mordecai has requisitioned three of our men to be agents at Ground Zero.” The Disciples grunted their displeasure. “I know, it’s against common sense to revise our plans days before the assault, but I had no choice. At least we have Zacchaeus to help make up the number.”

  “But he’s a plebe,” Raamiah growled. “And barely a novice.”

  “Perhaps, but with his inexperience comes a desire to prove himself. And remember, ‘the fewer men, the greater share of honor.’”

  Zacchaeus looked at Sharar. He remembered the quote. It was from Shakespeare, Henry V.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about honor,” Raamiah growled. “But more cash ain’t bad.” He and the rest of the Disciples laughed.

  “I’ll look into the situation,” Sharar said. “But now, since you have your newly revised assignments, let’s begin.”

  A flurry of activity commenced. As the Disciples prepared for the tactical drills, Zacchaeus unloaded the SUVs. He tried to execute his movements with the expertise of a veteran soldier, divvying up the field vests and double-checking that the guns were loaded with ammunition. Then he stood next to Sharar and they examined the deserted field. It was no longer an agricultural area. Now it was a mockup of a city. Painted lines delineated where urban blocks began and ended. Scaffolding covered with plywood represented buildings. Propped-up ladders took the place of fire escapes.

  Sharar blew his whistle and everyone lined up. Zacchaeus didn’t know where to stand. He’d never attended the exercises before.

  Everything was different for him now. I’m special. One of Sharar’s favorites. And with my help, the Disciples will be able to perform their maneuvers with precision.

  Sharar gathered the Disciples into a straight line and started their exercises with a round of calisthenics. Push-ups, sit-ups, and squat jumps. Then he ordered a two-mile run. Each Disciple was expected to finish in less than sixteen minutes. Raamiah failed the tests, of course. He was too fat, and his stomach kept getting in his way. Zacchaeus breezed through the exercises. He was young and fit. He took pride in his athletic abilities.

  And he secretly took pleasure in Raamiah’s failures.

  Sharar reprimanded him quietly. “I know how you’re feeling. But remember, Raamiah has other talents. For instance, he’s our best long-range sniper.”

  “Forgive me, Disciple.”

  “No foul,” Sharar said. Zacchaeus could have sworn Sharar had a glint in his eye. A glint for him, but he couldn’t be sure. Sharar quickly gathered the Disciples for the tactical part of their exercises. They divided into small teams until only he and Zacchaeus were left.

  “Which team shall I be with?” Zacchaeus asked.

  “You won’t be on a team. You’ll be with me.” Sharar brought his hand to Zacchaeus’s cheek. “We’ll be together.” The gesture made Zacchaeus feel good.

  The teams separated to conquer the mocked-up area. One team roamed the streets, shooting out the tires of the sawhorse vehicles to facilitate a rapid advance or an emergency withdrawal. Another concentrated on sharpshooting, picking off mannequins dressed in black suits and purple robes. Raamiah’s team practiced cover and concealment techniques. They found perches where they could hide in the building-like scaffolding. Only the tips of their rifles could be seen.

  Sharar didn’t join the exercises, however. He paid special attention to Zacchaeus. He showed him the finer points of firearms, taught him how to stand tall, his feet shoulder-length apart. How to aim his weapon without squinting and how to withstand the M16’s fierce kickback.

  When the exercises finished for the evening, Sharar put his arm around Zacchaeus’s shoulder and gave him a manly embrace. “You did well today. You’ll make a fine soldier.”

  Zacchaeus didn’t want to smile. But he couldn’t help it. Sharar had just given him a public sign of approval. He inched a little closer to Sharar and said, “Thank you, Disciple.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Maundy Thursday

  Jamie got kicked in the ribs. It woke him instantly. He and Eddie had fallen asleep on their rock piles and Saul stood above them, hovering and seething. Saul ordered his goons to pull them upright. Peter was with them, but stood apart and did nothing. Jamie hoped he was having second thoughts about his allegiances. He called out to him for help, but Peter looked away.

  The goons dragged them around to the square. Jamie tried to hit his abductors but was handcuffed, so the attempt was useless. Instead, he started kicking and biting while screaming as loudly as he could. Eddie joined in. It only made Saul angrier, and he ordered them gagged.

  As they passed the dormitory, the Faithfuls started watching the commotion from the windows and doorways, reciting, “Mordecai is great. Mordecai is good.”

  After several circles around the square, the goons led them to the chapel and dropped them by the pump organ. Mordecai stood by the altar, watching everything. “Saul, didn’t I tell you the faggots were trouble?”

  “You were right.” Saul lowered his head.

  “I’m always right. Now remove their gags.” Mordecai walked over to them and knelt down. His face was inches from Jamie’s. Jamie forced back his revulsion. “Why do you reject the Brethren’s ways?” he asked. “Don’t you want to be part of us? Don’t you want to feel the Brethren’s love?”

  “Not if your love discriminates.”

  “We don’t discriminate.” He got almost indignant. “We love the sinner. It’s the sin we hate. That’s why we want to turn you toward righteousness.”

  Jamie spat in Mordecai’s face. Mordecai wiped his cheek and gave Jamie a hard strike with the back of his hand. “Okay, we know how the prissy one feels,” he said, turning to Eddie. “What does the cripple think?”

  Eddie told him. “Growing up, I loved going to Mass with my family. I felt that I belonged. But when I got older, I realized I was different.”

  “That you were an abomination.”

  “That I was gay. When I came out, my church tried to take God away from me.”

  “And rightly so, since you refused to repent. Refused to live a righteous life.”
/>
  “But the tactic didn’t work. I still believe in God. I just don’t believe in that church anymore. And I don’t believe in the Brethren, either.”

  An aura of satisfaction seemed to take over Mordecai, and he grinned. “So I’m supposed to feel sorry for you? Sorry for a sinner? No. If you refuse to accept righteousness, it will be beaten into you.”

  As if on cue, Saul’s goons pulled out a vat filled with whitish water and slung two ropes over the rafters. They seized the boys, tying their cuffed wrists to the ropes. They pulled the boys up, making them stand on their toes.

  Saul removed a whipping cane from the vat. It had to be four feet long and about half an inch thick. It dripped the thick, whitish liquid. Saul handed it to Mordecai, who ran his fingers over the switch. Caressed it. Felt its dampness. “Pull down their pants,” he ordered.

  The henchmen obeyed and started laughing. “The faggy one’s got a rash all over his ass!”

  “Really?” Mordecai’s satisfaction turned into elation. “Well, God has already started the punishment that I must now finish.”

  The goons laughed some more and Mordecai held out the cane in front of the boys. “But you don’t have to worry. We soaked the cane in brine to disinfect it.”

  Jamie knew soaking it in salt water made it more flexible, heavier, and it made the gashes hurt that much more.

  Mordecai took his position and raised his weapon.

  “Should we put the gags back in?” Saul asked.

  “No. I want all the Faithfuls to hear them scream.”

  “We won’t give you the pleasure,” Jamie told him.

  “We’ll see about that.” Mordecai shifted his position. “I’m going to start on the invalid first, so you’ll have to wait. Watching him and anticipating the pain you’ll soon feel.”

  Mordecai took a deep breath and hoisted the cane in the air. Jamie refused to look and turned away, but a goon grabbed his head and gave it a twist, forcing him to watch everything. Mordecai swung the cane onto Eddie’s buttocks with a swift swipe. The cane whistled through the air until it made contact with a hard thwack. The pain must have been excruciating. Eddie winced, but he held the scream inside.