by Wendi Wilson
It’s show time.
“Hey, Savanna,” I gush as she walks through the door, making sure to pretend I’m drunk. I throw my arms around her neck, hugging her before giving a more subtle greeting to the Patton brothers. “Do you want a beer?”
The boys wave me off, and Savanna asks for a soda instead. I leave them to their own devices and rush to the kitchen to pour her drink. Pulling a small baggie from my front pocket, I shake it to break up the powder inside.
It’s Ecstasy, a powdered version that Brother Earl gave me with instructions to make sure Savanna ingests it. And to record the results in a video.
I pour it into her coke, stirring it with my finger to make sure it dissolves. I resist the urge to suck the liquid from my digit, instead opting to wipe it off on the leg of my jeans. Can’t get myself caught in my own trap.
I take the drink to Savanna and tell her to have fun, and that I’d catch back up with her later. I see the smiley brother, Wyatt, take the drink from her and sniff it before taking a sip, himself. I hold my breath, waiting for his verdict, then release it with a relieved sigh as he nods and hands the cup back to Savanna.
She takes a drink and I smile. All I have to do is wait.
About an hour later, I notice Savanna’s eyes are glassy and I pull my phone out. As she hands her drink to Wyatt and pulls Jett, the stoic one, into the middle of the living room, I open my camera app and start a video recording. The furniture has been pushed to edges of the room to leave a large empty space where party-goers are gyrating to fast-paced hip hop music. Savanna heads right for the center of the crowd, pulling Jett along behind her.
She turns and wraps her arms around his neck, her sweater rising up to expose her midriff in the process. His hands wrap around her, pressing into her bare back. She pushes her body against his, grinding her hips with the beat of the music. He moves with her, getting swept away as I record the whole thing.
Before I know it, they’re kissing. Hungry and demanding, I feel my own face heat in the presence of their ardor as I move in closer, careful to stay out of the line of sight of the other two, who watch them from the couch.
I smile as Savanna starts mumbling words between kisses. I can’t hear her over the beat of the music, but I am pretty sure the last two words are “love you.”
The quiet brother, Beckett, strides over to them, placing his hand on her shoulder. That’s when things start to get good. I hold my breath as Savanna pulls her lips away from Jett and glances over her shoulder.
She smiles and backs up, pulling Jett with her, and rubs her back against Beckett’s chest. He remains rigid, but doesn’t back away. He whispers something to her, his words fast and urgent, but I have no idea what he’s saying.
Keeping one hand on Jett’s neck, Savanna reaches over her shoulder with the other, sliding it up behind Beckett’s head. She fists her hand in his hair and uses it as an anchor to pull him forward. Turning her head, she plasters her lips to his.
I suck in a sharp breath. Watching it all play out makes me feel dirty, and recording it is even worse. Other people are starting to notice as well, tapping their friends and directing their attention to the show Savanna is putting on.
Everything is going exactly as planned.
Jett stops moving as Savanna continues to kiss Beckett. He pulls her hand from his neck and takes a step back, looking around in frustration to see all the kids watching. Wyatt pushes him out of the way and takes his spot.
“Savanna!” he yells, and I move in a little closer, keeping my phone hidden behind another curious bystander.
She pulls her mouth away from Beckett’s and sways a little, her eyes blinking as she attempts to focus them on Wyatt. She releases Beckett and saunters forward, her hips swaying to the music. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers interlacing behind his head.
“You’re so tense,” she says, just loud enough for me to hear. “Let me help you.”
She presses her mouth to his neck, and I gasp.
Is she going to bite him?
Before she can do anything else, one of the brothers sweeps her up against his chest and carries her outside. The other two take control of the room, going from person to person and persuading them to hand over their phones and forget what they saw.
I record a little bit of them doing it, then quickly slip my phone into my pocket. Two seconds after I school my features, Jett is standing in front of me. He looks into my eyes and I don’t shy away, despite the anger swirling in their depths.
“Do you have your phone? Answer truthfully,” he says, maintaining the eye contact.
“No,” I say, careful to keep my voice calm. “I left it upstairs.”
He nods, seeming to believe my act. He tells me to forget what I’ve seen and moves on to the next kid. I watch as Wyatt moves around the other side of the room, presumably saying the same things Jett said to me.
I feel a little twinge in my chest… something other than the disgust I usually experience when dealing with the Alts.
Something that feels a bit like longing.
Not a longing for the Alts. Never that. But I have to admit that, as I watch them, I marvel at their single-minded drive to protect Savanna. No matter the cost. She is important to them, and not just as a plaything like I had assumed.
Once they persuade every soul in the room, they leave. I hear the truck roar to life and tires squeal as it takes off. My shoulders slump and a sigh escapes me. I’m suddenly exhausted.
I pull my phone from my pocket and text my parents. They are with Brother Earl and they’ll let him know my mission has been a success. I don’t have the energy to talk to him myself.
I find Jonas and tell him the cops are on the way; that one of my neighbors called because of the noise. He helps me clear everyone out before slipping out the front door without offering to help clean up. Typical.
Reaching into my pocket, I retrieve the disposable phone Brother Earl gave me. The number can’t be traced, and I need to make sure no one ever knows that I’m the one behind this. I slump onto the sofa and pull up the contact list.
I already preprogrammed it with the numbers of over fifty kids in the senior class, including Savanna’s. I even put my own number in there, too, to cover my tracks. Selecting all of them and forming a group text, I attach the video. My finger hovers over the send button, slivers of doubt streaking through me.
If I do this, there’s no going back.
Then I think about Brother Earl, the Purist movement and how those boys had persuaded everyone in the room within a matter of minutes. Someone has to stop them.
Sucking in a ragged breath, I tap the send button.
8
Present day…
I pick up my phone and look at the map displayed on the screen. The little blue dot that indicates my car is moving slowly northeast. After sneaking the confiscated device out of my mother’s purse, I had inputted an address I found in my father’s office, hoping the information was correct and that I would find Savanna there.
The file in which I found the address also contained pictures. Pictures of the Patton brothers. Pictures of the family who lived at the address in Greenwich, Connecticut. A married couple and their two sons… the Madsen family. I wonder if Savanna or the boys have told them what I did. How I drugged her and recorded her and sent it to everyone.
Dropping the phone back to my lap, I roll my shoulders to relieve the tension. Thinking about that party, and what I did, always makes my muscles bunch up underneath my skin. I can’t believe how naïve I was, doing everything I was told like a good little soldier.
I’d gone over to Savanna’s house the morning after, eyes red and puffy after forcing myself to cry for an hour, and swore that I’d had no idea who took the video or sent the text. That Jonas had poured Savanna’s drink for me, and I’d had no idea that he put something in it. The quiet one, Beckett, had taken it upon himself to persuade me, confirming I was telling the truth.
But they were all lies, and Savanna now kno
ws the truth. There is no telling how I’ll be received when I arrive at the house where they’re hiding out. But I have to try.
The information I have is too important. Savanna needs to know. I just hope she’ll believe me.
9
One month ago…
The chair is comfortable, but I can’t stop squirming in my seat. My eyes track every small change in expression on Brother Earl’s face as he watches the video I brought him. His eyes light up with amusement and… something else as Savanna’s voice echoes through the phone’s speakers.
“I’m talking about what you just said to tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum over here when you thought I couldn’t hear you.”
“I didn’t say anything about you.”
That voice belongs to Jonas Wiggins. When I saw Savanna approach him, her boys flanking her, I had a feeling something explosive was going to happen and whipped out my phone to record the altercation. Just like Brother Earl had instructed me to do.
“You didn’t call me a slut?”
“No.”
“You didn’t say you would’ve hit that a long time ago if you’d known?”
I hear my small gasp on the recording, so quiet I don’t think Brother Earl even noticed it. Savanna had been too far away to hear anything Jonas said, but the look on his face said she was spot on.
“No,” he said, sticking to his story.
Savanna had looked at Alec and Paul, the aforementioned tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, who just shook their heads, backing their friend up. Remembering what happened next sends chills down my spine.
“Yeah, you guys just keep kissing Jonas’s ass. Just the way he likes it.”
The second the words passed her lips, the two of them dropped to their knees and pressed their mouths to Jonas’s butt. My mouth had dropped open, shock rippling through me. Jonas jumped away from them with a yelp.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” he yelled, his voice high and cracking.
Alec and Paul had scooted forward on their knees, trying to get behind him, but he jumped and whirled again.
“Stop it.”
“Tell them to stop, Savanna.” That was one of the triplets. It was hard to tell them apart from that distance, but I’m pretty sure the one that spoke was Jett.
“Stop kissing his ass!”
As soon as the words left Savanna’s lips, Alec and Paul had jumped to their feet, blushing and unable to meet the eye of anyone. The Patton brothers had whisked Savanna out of the building and I cut the recording.
“Amazing,” Brother Earl says, handing my phone back to me. “Simply astounding.”
“How did she do that, sir?” I ask, unable to keep my curiosity to myself. “I mean, as far as I know, Alts can only persuade one person at a time and they have to have eye contact.”
“That is true,” he says, “of a regular Alt. Savanna is special. I gave her mother injections when Savanna was in utero, then gave them directly to Savanna when she was a baby and again when she was a toddler.”
“And her parents just let you do that?”
“Well, they didn’t know, of course. Her mother thought I’d found the cure and when Savanna was born, she looked completely human. She didn’t need blood to survive and she could not compel a human. We later discovered that she, and only she, could compel other Alts.”
“But, Alec and Paul…”
“Are human, of course. The injection I gave her few days ago enhanced her power. Now, she can persuade everyone… except those of us who are immune, of course. She doesn’t need eye contact and anyone within the reach of her voice would be affected. She’s the perfect weapon.”
He claps his hands together, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. “Please send me a copy of that footage, my dear.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, picking up my phone and tapping the required icons to forward him the video.
When I finish, I look up to find the man staring at me. I see that same look in his eyes that I’d noticed earlier, as he’d watched the video of Savanna. After a moment, I realize what it is.
It’s pride.
“You’ve done very well, Lizzie.”
“Thank you, Brother Earl,” I say, feeling my face flush.
He keeps his eyes locked on mine, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. His gaze is assessing me, and I struggle not to fidget. The air around me seems to shift, to fill with electricity. I can practically feel the weight of the moment. Whatever is coming, it is going to be life-changing.
“I’m an old man,” he says, pausing for my response.
I say the only thing my polite southern upbringing would allow. “You’re not so old, sir.”
He chuckles. “Well, I’m old enough to know that I won’t be here to lead our flock forever. I need someone to follow in my footsteps, to be my second, and eventually take over in our quest to rid the world of Alts… should I not succeed before that time comes.”
I smile and nod, forcing myself to ignore the fact that he said “rid the world of Alts.” Not get them under control, or imprison them, or send them away. He wouldn’t actually kill people, would he? No. No. It had to have been simply a poor choice of words.
“I would like you to be my protégé,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What?” I chirp, more out of shock than actually needing him to repeat himself.
He seems to understand, giving me a compassionate look. “I know this is a tough road with a lot of responsibility, but God has shown me the path we both must take. He has spoken to me, telling me that you are the one person I can trust above all others. Your passion and single-minded dedication to this cause have proven to me, and to God, that you are ready.”
“Ready for what?” I murmur, attempting to project outward calm and maturity.
“Walk with me,” he says, standing and stepping around his desk.
I tuck my hand into the crook of his proffered elbow and he leads me from the office. We step into his lab, which is supposed to be his place of business. He’s a phlebotomist, drawing vials of blood per doctor’s orders and testing it for various diseases and deficiencies.
But that is all a front. My parents told me he hasn’t actually done that type of work in years. His current “patients” are actually Purists, members of our church who come to him for blood.
Savanna’s blood, to be exact. He’s been collecting it for weeks, under the guise of testing it. Maybe he has tested some of it, but the lion’s share went into storage for his flock. Some— the richer people who have contributed money to his cause— come to the office to get injections. Others actually drink it as part of their communion at church.
I shiver at the thought, glad he saw fit to give me the injection. Drinking blood is not something I ever want to do. Yuck.
He stops in front of a refrigerated case and pulls open the door. Inside is a metal box with a small screen on the front. He presses his thumb to the screen and red lights flash behind it before I hear a click. Brother Earl pulls up the lid and tilts the box toward me so I can peer inside.
Nestled into velvet-lined grooves are more than a dozen syringes, all filled with thick, red liquid. My eyes jump from the needles up to Brother Earl’s face. He smiles at me, the expression almost fatherly, as he snaps the lid back down and places the box on a nearby table.
He presses his thumb against the small screen again and holds it. The red flashing lights turn to green and he pulls his thumb away. Motioning for me to step closer, he speaks.
“As my second-in-command,” he says, holding out his hand and waiting patiently for me to place mine in it, “you may need access to Savanna’s blood at some point.”
Taking my thumb between two of his fingers, he presses it against the glass of the screen. The green lights turn red and the box clicks open. Brother Earl releases my hand and closes the lid once more. He picks up the box and places it back inside the refrigerated case.
“There are five of these lock boxes in here,” he says, waving a palm up
and down to indicate them. “The electronic locks are all synced and can only be opened by fingerprint. Before, it was only mine that would do it. Now, yours will work, too.”
I nod, not really sure what to say. On one hand, I feel honored that he would bless me with such a huge responsibility. On the other, it makes me uncomfortable, knowing he has been stockpiling Savanna’s blood, an Alts blood, to use in our holy war against them. It just doesn’t seem right, but I wasn’t about to tell Brother Earl that.
I simply smile and thank him for his trust in me.
“I have another assignment for you, my dear,” he says as he leads me back down the hall to his office, where I take the same seat I’d been in before.
I watch him, my eyes full of questions as he plops his weight down into the chair behind his desk and leans forward on his elbows. He rubs his hands together before lacing his fingers and letting them rest on the desktop.
“I need you to go to the homeless shelter in Savannah where Angela James volunteers her time on Sundays.”
“James? As in Savanna James?”
He nods. “Her mother. I’ve been sending one of my flock there every week, waiting for a chance to provoke Savanna and have her demonstrate just how powerful an Alt she’s become, thanks to my injection.”
“Okay,” I say. “I can go this Sunday.”
“Thank you, my dear. I already have another young soldier who will record Savanna’s reaction to my troll, but I need you as well. I need footage I can leak to the press. Something that does not reveal who she is. Only that she exists. I need her to feel insecure and bend to my will. There has been too much resistance on her part for my liking.”
“But what if she sees me?”
“Well, my dear, you’ll just have to be careful.”
When I reach the parking lot and climb into my father’s large, black sedan, both he and my mother turn in their seats and look at me expectantly. I stare into each of their faces, fighting the ambivalence I feel for both Brother Earl’s promotion of my position and my newest assignment.