“Now it’s your turn, faggot.” Mordecai repositioned himself and lowered the staff onto Jamie’s backside. Jamie felt the staff slice into his flesh. He felt the blood oozing from his splayed skin. He thought he was going to die, but he refused to cry, refused to scream.
Mordecai became enraged. He continued swinging, hitting harder with each strike. He swung ten times. Five lashes for each. Jamie looked up between lashes and saw Peter standing there. He was crying, yet did nothing to help them.
When Mordecai finished his punishment, the goons cut the ropes. Jamie and Eddie collapsed, but still refused to utter a sound.
Chapter Thirty-one
When Mordecai finished, the goons made Jamie and Eddie put their underwear on over the still-bleeding welts. The fabric turned brownish red, but the goons didn’t seem to care. They hauled them to the front steps of the dormitory and the Faithfuls scurried outside. Once they saw who it was, they averted their gaze.
Mordecai’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “Take heed and beware. God has allowed me to reveal everything now. The two you see before you are the infidels. The faggots are our enemies.”
The crowd gasped and Mordecai continued. “Let their crumpled presence be a warning to anyone who even thinks of defying the Brethren. Until these criminals repent and turn toward righteousness, they shall be shunned. They are no longer human. They are animals, and should be treated like beasts of burden.”
The Faithfuls looked at each other, their eyes conveyed the fear in their hearts. One of the Faithfuls even started crying. He asked, “What should we do now?”
Saul looked up to heaven. “We work for the glory of Mordecai.”
In unison, the Faithfuls recited, “Mordecai is great. Mordecai is good. Mordecai will redeem me of my sins.”
“And this is how it should be,” Saul told them. “Now, there’s work to be done, and we should to tend to our chores.”
As the Faithfuls walked away, Jamie and Eddie took each other’s hands. It was the only kind of embrace they had the strength for. One of the goons, on his way out, stepped on their embrace. He ground his foot into their fingers.
*
Later that afternoon, the church bells rang and woke Jamie. He and Eddie must have passed out from the pain, sprawled on the steps. Jamie’s body ached. His welts throbbed, and his blood continued to ooze from the lacerations. He looked at Eddie and wanted to cry. Eddie was wincing in pain, too.
Saul stood above them. “This doesn’t excuse you from evening chapel.”
Jamie tried to stand, but his wobbly legs couldn’t support him. “We have no clothes. It wouldn’t show proper respect for the Brethren to attend in bloodied underwear.”
“Here.” Saul threw them a couple of pairs of tattered linen pants. “Put these on, and show your respect.”
Using each other for support, the boys slowly pulled up their trousers and walked to chapel behind the rest of the Faithfuls. No one spoke to them. No one even looked at them. The Faithfuls who passed their way quickly moved on, acting like Jamie and Eddie weren’t there.
When they entered the chapel, Saul made them sit in the back pew by themselves. He signaled the organist to start playing, and he and his goons processed up the aisle. Peter walked with them. He turned toward Jamie, but Saul gave him a thwack to the side of his head and he looked forward.
The organist stopped playing when the Disciples entered. Their leader came first, followed by Gideon, Raamiah, and the rest. Jamie remembered the young man hidden in the background. He turned to see if he could catch a glimpse. The young man entered, but stood hiding in the darkness.
Then Mordecai entered with his red sash flowing. He stepped to the pulpit and began his sermon. “The wages of sin is death. But there are many kinds of death…”
Jamie sat in his pew, silent. He couldn’t comprehend anything Mordecai said. The words were meaningless. After ten minutes of his blathering, Jamie turned around in an effort to identify the hiding young man. He succeeded, but didn’t believe what he saw. He nudged Eddie. Eddie looked back, and his eyes met the young man’s. Eddie recognized him, too. It was Andrew Caldwell, a good friend from Stratburgh University. Andy saw Eddie and turned away quickly.
Mordecai stopped his sermon and pointed to Jamie and Eddie. “This impertinence will not be tolerated, especially from sinners. Saul, deal with them after the service.” Saul nodded and they faced front again. Mordecai resumed sermonizing.
But Jamie smiled. The pieces are beginning to fit together. Andy sent us the package. It was his class ring. It was his cry for help.
After the service, Mordecai instructed the Faithfuls to stay in their pews while Saul’s goons punished the boys. This time, the goons focused on their faces, pummeling them until they were black and blue. Peter stood in the back, doing nothing. Jamie wasn’t sure what side he was on, until another goon yelled, “It’s your turn, Caleb. Can’t be lily-livered forever.”
Peter walked to the boys slowly, his face tight with fear. He raised his fist and lowered it onto Jamie without any force. “Harder,” the goons taunted.
Peter lifted his fist again and swung, this time with unusual power, knocking Jamie onto Eddie’s shoulder. Peter brought his hand to his mouth and blew on his fingers. The goons complimented him: “Attaboy, Caleb.”
Peter smiled. He grabbed Jamie by the nape of his neck and pushed him aside. Then he smiled at Eddie and started hitting him, too. When Peter finished, the goons patted him on the back and cheered his behavior.
Jamie looked into the congregation and saw the Faithfuls sitting in their pews. Some had fear on their faces. Others appeared relieved. Some were probably worried that faggots would continue to disrupt the order in their lives. Others were more likely relieved Mordecai’s hate was now focused on the homosexuals, and they were safe from his harm for now.
When the time came for Jamie and Eddie to leave the chapel, they rose onto their wobbly feet. They gained their balance and ran past the Faithfuls as quickly as they could. Everyone was ignoring them, but Jamie didn’t care. They made their way to Andy Caldwell. He and the head Disciple were almost to the doors of their quarters. Before they could enter, Eddie yelled, “Please, Andy. Stop.”
The young man stopped, but didn’t turn around.
Eddie continued. “You’re Andrew Caldwell. We went to school together at Stratburgh University.”
The young man looked at the head Disciple, who gave him permission to speak. He slowly turned around, but didn’t look at Eddie. He looked at the ground instead. “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Andy. We were roommates for two years.”
“But I’m not Andy. The Andrew Caldwell you knew is dead. It is Zacchaeus who lives now, and it is Zacchaeus who will live forever more.”
Zacchaeus ran inside. The Disciple followed him at a steady pace.
Jamie gave Eddie an apologetic glance. He knew Andy was scared, and nothing they could do would change the situation. Eddie shook his head in disbelief. “Why would Andy deny knowing us?”
Jamie wanted to comfort Eddie with a soft touch. Instead, he said, “Because the head disciple was right there and could hear everything Andy said.”
“Then we’ve got to figure out a plan to rescue him and us. It’s our only hope.”
Jamie agreed, but there was another pressing matter. He heard a loud ruckus in the square and saw Saul and his goons advancing. They had scythes and sickles in their hands, but they didn’t look like they were going to tend the fields. They wanted to tend to Jamie and Eddie.
The boys didn’t give them the chance. They scurried away like field mice to their hiding places.
Chapter Thirty-two
Jamie and Eddie lost Saul and his goons. They ended up hiding in several of the places they had noticed during their survey, but had to keep moving to avoid being caught. Their last refuge was the stable. It wasn’t a good hiding place, but they needed to take care of their injuries.
Jamie lay on his stomach in the hay, next to the white mare. His buttocks still bled, still stung like a son of a bitch. Eddie carefully removed Jamie’s pants and inspected the injuries. “We’ve got to clean our cuts before they become infected. And heaven knows what the poison ivy is doing to your blood right now.” He spotted the cabinet they’d found earlier and began rummaging through the bottles inside.
“What did you find?”
“The perfect solution. Iodine spray.” Eddie held up the bottle and started reading the label. “‘Use on cattle and horses prior to surgical procedures such as castrating.’”
“Castrating?”
“I’m sure it’s just to stop infection.”
“But is it safe on humans?”
“Should be. The only thing it says here is…” Eddie started reading again. “‘Caution is advised when treating near the teats or udders of dairy animals.’”
“That does it,” Jamie objected. “No way in hell.”
“All it means is it’s safe for sensitive skin. Besides, you’re a human and you don’t have udders.”
Jamie considered his options. He didn’t have any. They were stuck, but he wasn’t going to let Eddie have the last word. “Okay. But I want you to know my nuts are a lot more sensitive than anything a cow has.”
Eddie laughed. “Look, after I spray your backside, you can spray mine. Is it a deal?”
But before Jamie could agree, Eddie spritzed the iodine all over Jamie’s wounds.
“Now it’s my turn to spray you.” Jamie got up and helped Eddie lie down on the hay. He pulled away the fabric covering Eddie’s bottom and aimed the bottle inches away. “Trust me, sweetie. This is going to hurt.”
Jamie gave the bottle a good pump. Brownish-orange medicine coated Eddie’s buttocks, and he started crying. Through the sniffles he said, “I should have helped Andy.”
“And what would you do, sweetie? Andy’s obviously mentally disturbed or else he wouldn’t have sent us the package.”
Eddie didn’t listen to him. “Andy needed my help, and I did nothing.”
“We’re here, aren’t we? We’re doing all we can.”
“I’m talking about two years ago. When his parents pulled him out of school and put him into conversion therapy. I did nothing.”
“There wasn’t anything you could have done.” Jamie tried to put his arms around Eddie. He tried to comfort him. But Eddie refused his help, so he mentioned the one memory he knew they both hated the most. “Eddie, you couldn’t have done anything for Andy because you were busy rescuing me from Stephen Antonelli, and also saving the lives of three sorority girls.”
Eddie sat in a stupor. “I failed Andy then. We can’t fail him now.”
“I agree, but I don’t know what else we can do.”
“So we give up?”
“No,” Jamie said. “We just need to proceed cautiously. We’re in hiding, but Saul and his goons are going to find us pretty soon, so we’ve got to go on the offensive.”
For the next hour, Jamie and Eddie planned and prepared their attack. When Jamie heard the Faithfuls going inside the dorms for the evening, he knew it was time. Taking a breath to gather his senses, he asked Eddie, “Think we can do this?”
“Andy needs us. So yeah, we can do this.” Eddie slung a huge burlap bag over his shoulder and added, “This is heavy. And it smells, too.”
“Well, horseshit stinks. And I lost count of how many horseshoes and boxes of nails we put in the bags.”
“Me too,” Eddie said.
Jamie slung his bag over his shoulder, and they left the barn. They followed the moon’s shadows across the compound until they got to the main gate. More specifically, to the bushes where Jamie got infected with poison ivy. Wearing latex gloves they found in the cabinet, they carefully uprooted the ivy and added it to the horseshit and nails. Then they rigged the bags in the tree’s branches. Rigging up a trip line across the path, they secured it to the bags in the branches.
Their work almost finished, they hid themselves below. Jamie threw stones into the electronic eye of the security alarm, and it blasted.
It didn’t take long for Saul, his goons, and even Peter to come running. The trip line worked, and the bags opened, dumping several months’ worth of rotting horseshit laced with nails, rocks, and poison ivy over Saul and his underlings.
“Damn,” Saul yelled.
A goon cried, “It’s horse manure!”
“And it itches, too,” said another.
Then Peter dropped to his knees and screamed with pain. “Something hit my eye. I can’t see.” He touched his brow and blood got all over his hands.
Saul didn’t bother tending to Peter. Instead, he took a closer look at the feces, rubbed it between his fingers, and gave it a whiff. “It’s laced with poison ivy, damn it!” He slung it to the ground.
“Help me,” Peter cried. “I can’t see.”
“Stop whining,” Saul said. “We have to head for the showers. Since the security gate’s still closed, they can’t escape, anyway.” Saul and his subordinates ran, leaving Peter on his knees, blinded.
Jamie and Eddie ran to help Peter. But Peter shooed them away. “It’s too dangerous to help me. You’ve got to leave.”
“But you’re hurt,” Jamie said.
“I’ll be all right. But you won’t be. They’re going to kill you. Please, leave now.”
Jamie knew Peter was right. “Okay, but we’ll be back to get you.” He and Eddie left Peter.
Chapter Thirty-three
They hurried to the Disciples’ quarters to rescue Andy. When they reached the door and Jamie put his hand to the knob, he stopped.
“What do you think the odds are that this building is rigged with more alarms than Fort Knox?”
“About a hundred to one,” Eddie answered.
“And what would be a normal reaction if an alarm did go off?”
“Run like hell.”
“Yeah,” Jamie said. “So, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Eddie nodded and Jamie turned the knob. The door opened, but nothing happened. Just as they were about to sneak inside, an alarm went off and glaring lights bathed the quarters.
“Well, you were right.” Jamie winked at Eddie and the two dove for cover behind two nearby Adirondack chairs.
They heard the head Disciple barking his orders. “Spread out evenly. Be sure to take the front and rear lots as well as the sides. Zacchaeus, you stay here and guard the interior.”
Perfect, Jamie thought. After the Disciples left, they could get Andy by himself. Peeking through the slats of the chair, Jamie watched the disciples evacuate the lodge. They almost looked like firemen, but Jamie knew saving anyone was the furthest thought from their minds.
Jamie watched as the head Disciple left the area. “Well, here we go.” He and Eddie entered the quarters.
Jamie gawked at the lavish interior. “Talk about chic.”
The Disciples lived in luxury. Rustic yet refined, the interior looked like it had been imported from an expensive skiing chalet, with overstuffed easy chairs with oak accents and tea services on the occasional tables. But they couldn’t waste time. They started searching for Andy.
They found him upstairs, sitting on a mat in the hallway. There was a yellowed pillow by his side. Obviously, this was Andy’s sleeping place. He was far below the status of a Disciple.
Andy looked up at them. His hands were shaking, and so was his whole body. He stuttered, “Hello, Eddie. Jamie.”
Eddie ran to his side. “Don’t worry. We’re here to save you.”
“But I don’t need to be saved.”
Jamie couldn’t believe his ears. “You sent us the note and the ring, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I sent you that package.”
“Why send us a message like that if you didn’t want us to find you?”
“When I sent it, I didn’t know what I wanted. But I do now. I don’t want to be saved.”
Ja
mie couldn’t believe it. “You sent us that package yourself. Less than a week ago. What’s changed since then?”
“Everything’s changed. The package doesn’t mean anything. Not anymore.”
“I’m so sorry, Andy.” Eddie couldn’t keep from crying. “I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you.”
Andy took Eddie’s hand. “There’s no reason to be sorry. I have a life at the Brethren. I can be happy here.”
Eddie shook his head and whispered, “No.”
“Please,” Andy begged. “Don’t take the Brethren away from me.”
Andy wasn’t capable of rational thought, but neither was Eddie at the moment. He was wrapped up in guilt, so it was up to Jamie.
“What kind of life do you have here, Andy?” Jamie made his voice harsh, severe, and masculine. “You’re a lackey. You do what you’re ordered to do. You’ve got nothing. You even sleep in a hallway.”
“It’s better than sleeping in the streets.”
“What?” Eddie asked.
“I was on the streets when Sharar found me.”
Eddie put arms around Andy. “If you were in trouble, why didn’t you try to get some help?”
“I did. The homeless shelters were worse than the streets. In a back alley, I could defend myself, or at least run away. On a mission cot, I was ripe for the picking. When no one was looking, the other residents would beat me up. They searched my things looking for drugs. And when they didn’t find any, they took what little money I had.”
“Andy, how did this happen? You were at the Second Birth Treatment Center.”
“The center kicked me out. Said I was an incorrigible homosexual. Beyond curing. They didn’t want me anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Andy. You never should have gone there. Being gay isn’t a sickness.”
“But I didn’t want to be gay. So I begged the center for one more chance. I told them I’d do anything not to be a fag.”
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