Upon This Rock

by David Marusek

  “Holy crap,” the Rodman said. “Those prophets don’t fuck around, do they?”

  Jace snapped a few photos with his phone. Above the gate, wouldn’t you know it, was a wooden plank with a short inscription chiseled into it: REV 6:15. He snapped that too. [And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bondsman, and every free man, hid themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains . . .]

  They continued up the slope above the mine adit. The going got rough, and they labored under their loads. They reached a wide ledge where they found a large, cast-iron grate covering a hole in the ground. A ventilation shaft for the mine. Further up the slope, near where the property boundary should be located, the Rodman found a rusty iron pipe cemented into a hole chiseled into a boulder. “This is gotta be the original post,” he said. He set his pogo pole on top of it, but the instrument man, who was scoping him from down below said it was off. When the two of them finally zeroed in on the corner, it was located less than a meter from the 1909 original, which impressed the hell out of the Rodman. “They didn’t even have satellites back then. How the fuck did they know where they were? Think about it.”

  While Jace thought about it and took in the scenery, the Rodman chipped and dug a hole for the new monument. He hammered in a pipe, anchored it with cement, and topped it with a brass marker. When he triple-checked his work, he took photos of it and repacked his gear for their descent. Jace asked him what he could tell about the location of the airstrip from their vantage point. The young man backsighted the property line with a theolodite app on his phone and said, “Let the lawsuits begin.”

  CW9 1.0

  THEY TOOK A different route back to camp, staying above the mine adit and descending the slope on the other side. When they thought they were back on park land, the Rodman told Jace to go on ahead without him — he needed to take a dump. So Jace said he’d see him back at camp and continued on through the forest until he came to a well-traveled footpath. He took it to be the Stubborn Mountain Trail and followed it, he thought, in the direction of the NPS camp.

  Instead, he came upon a small, fenced-in area. Inside were a dozen rabbit hutches. There were girls attending to them. Apparently, Jace was still on Prophecy property. He tried to withdraw quietly without being spotted, but a dog appeared out of nowhere and began to growl and bark at him with much enthusiasm.

  Jace recognized her as the family dog, though he didn’t know her name. She was a big dog, a German shepherd, but with a shaggy, black-and-tan coat and half-floppy ears. At the moment, though, she was mostly snarling, white teeth.

  “Hey there, beautiful,” Jace said softly, trying to charm her. He had a way with dogs. He loved dogs, and they usually loved him back. He hunched over to appear less threatening, meanwhile removing the canister of bear spray from his belt, just in case. He didn’t have any treats or food to appease her, only the gentle and confident tone of his voice. “What a brave and fiercesome dog you are. What a champion. My, my, aren’t you a sweetheart.”

  No good. Her hackles rose down the length of her back, and her outrage redoubled.

  “Now I’m scared. Yes, I am. I’m so scared I’m going to back away a little, just like this.”

  A girl clucked her tongue, and the dog abruptly quit barking and dashed to her side. The girl appeared annoyed and was about to say something to the dog when she noticed Jace standing there. They stared at each other for several staggering moments.

  “Oh,” she said, looking away. “You’re not . . . I thought . . .”

  “Sorry if I . . .” he replied. “I was just . . .”

  Others were coming from the direction of the hutches, and there were men’s voices among them. Deuteronomy pointed in another direction, jabbing her finger for him to go, and then dashed off to intercept her family. Was she protecting him from discovery? Were they co-conspirators so soon?

  Deut paused for a final, over-the-shoulder glance at him. He kinda waved. She kinda waved back.

  And so, Jace’s sister Kate in Littleton, Colorado, if you must know, yes, they did meet. Unforgettably so. And shortly thereafter they traded two words of conversation.

  Let the wedding bells ring.

  NORAD of the North

  NN1 1.0

  POPPY PROPHECY AWOKE in a king-sized bed, nestled in sheets and pillows that smelled like air freshener. The walls surrounding him were painted robin’s-egg-blue and were smooth and unblemished. No water stains sullied the ceiling. Not one. A framed print hung on the wall opposite his bed depicting a pastoral scene with peasants and haystacks and a stone cathedral spire in the distance. On the dresser a bouquet of dried flowers sprung from a glass vase. A thermostat affixed to the wall stood by to warm or cool the room at his whim. Limitless hot and cold water awaited him in the private john just a few steps away. (The porcelain bowls emptied themselves!) On the nightstand, a lamp crouched under a tasseled shade. Poppy shut his eyes and prayed, Heavenly Father, thank You for saving us from all this.

  Poppy could hear children shrieking somewhere in the rambling house, as well as the alien whine of a TV and feet thudding on carpet. The clock radio read 10:07 a.m. He got up.

  THE BOYS WERE sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee. “Good morning, lord,” they said. “Ready for breakfast?”

  “You let them watch TV?” Poppy said.

  Proverbs jumped up and went out to the living room. In a moment, the television went silent.

  “Where are our hosts?”

  Adam replied, “The mister is at work. The missus is at a Christmas bazaar. She was surprised we didn’t bring any of our own handcrafts to sell. The boy’s at school, and the girl’s in her bedroom with Deut and Cora.”

  “What are they doing in there?”

  Adam shrugged. “Girl things?”

  “Go make sure their door is open.”

  Hosea sighed and got up to comply.

  The family dog ventured into the kitchen, its nails clicking on the tiles. It was a tiny, naked thing with fuzzy matchstick legs.

  “It’s a midget greyhound,” Poppy said.

  “It’s called a whippet, lord. Name of Keagan.”

  “Well, whatever they call it, it’s an abomination against Father God’s plan for dogs.” He enticed the dog closer with a crust of toast and then kicked it, sending it yelping from the room.

  Poppy took the shopping list from a pocket and unfolded it. The plan was to hit the big box stores in Anchorage in the Dodge and to secure what they bought in the cargo racks atop the bus for the trip home. Four thousand dollars might seem like a lot of money, but their needs were great, and the troubles would last seven years. First the essentials: grains, staples, and garden seeds. Ammunition for all their various calibers. Leather tanning supplies. A Tribulation’s worth of toilet paper, socks and underwear, toothpaste, and detergent. Dairy goat udder balm. The list went on. But Poppy put it away. There was important business to attend to first.

  “Go start the pickup,” he said. “Get your brothers.”

  ONLY A FEW miles of backtracking on the Glenn brought them to NJB’s exit. They parked across the street from the familiar house and idled the engine while Proverbs glassed the area with binoculars.

  “Something yellow’s strung across the door,” he said. “It’s got words on it, but I can’t make them out.”

  Adam grabbed the binoculars for a look. “That’s police tape.”

  “What’s police tape?”

  “It’s what cops use to mark a crime scene.”

  “What kind of crime does it say?”

  “It doesn’t say that, idiot.”

  Hosea said, “You notice how the neighbors have Christmas lights strung up, and Jeff doesn’t?”

  Proverbs said, “So?”

  Poppy said, “So he hasn’t been home in a while.” He fished the keyring from his pocket and thumbed through the keys until he found the guest key he’d never returned. “Let’s go see.�
��

  New snow on NJB’s driveway was undisturbed. Though it was just after noon, the overcast day was dim enough for them to trip the porch light.

  “Someone’s home,” Proverbs said.

  “It’s a motion-sensor, idiot.”

  Poppy unlocked the door, and they ducked under the yellow police tape to enter. (Crime Scene — Do Not Cross)

  “Keep your gloves on,” Poppy said, “and don’t touch nothing you don’t have to.”

  The furnace was working, but the thermostat was set to the forties (10s C).

  Poppy shouted down the hallway. “Jeff? Are you here?” The place looked tidy enough. Not much had changed since their visit two years ago. The dining room table was set with a desiccated dinner for one: pork chops, baked potato, salad, an unopened bottle of Riesling.

  It wasn’t until they reached the living room that they found the crime scene. Broken lamps, overturned chairs. In the corner, a blood stain on the the charcoal grey berber carpet.

  Poppy said, “Our friend may have come to harm. Let us pray for him as we continue to search.”

  “We will, lord,” Adam said. “What are we searching for?”

  Poppy removed his gloves and went through his wallet for the scrap of paper NJB had mailed him. Four numbers.

  “I think we’re looking for a safe.”

  THE FLOOR SAFE was hidden under the carpeting and several milk crates of hockey gear in the walk-in closet of the master bedroom. “Whatever happened to Jeff,” Poppy said, “it wasn’t a robbery. This safe wasn’t that hard to find.” He knelt down on creaky knees and punched in the combination. The boys jostled each other to see as he lifted the heavy door. A black nylon gym bag was jammed into the small space. Poppy tried to lift it out, but it was wedged in pretty tight. He moved aside for Hosea to help. Hosea wrenched the bag free and set it on the floor.

  “I don’t know, lord,” Hosea said. “This don’t feel right. Do you think we should be going through his stuff and all?”

  Though they didn’t say anything, the other two boys seemed to be thinking the same thing. NJB, whatever had happened to him, was their friend too. He had treated them right.

  Poppy held up the scrap of paper with the combination. “Where do you think I got this from? Jeff sent it to me. He wanted us to find the safe. He must’ve known that something evil was coming his way.” Poppy unzipped the bag. Inside was cash. Lots of cash.

  The boys were utterly astounded.

  “How much you figure there is?”

  “Where d’ya think it come from?”

  “Is this a miracle or what?”

  It was impossible to guess how much money was in the bag. The bills seemed to be all 20s and 50s, but they weren’t banded in easy-to-count bundles. Wherever they came from, it wasn’t from a bank. Obviously, it was a miracle, or at least an act of divine providence.

  “Close the safe,” Poppy told Hosea, “and put the carpet back the way it was. Adam, take this to the truck and stay with it. Proverbs, help me stand up.”

  “Lord,” Hosea said. “There’s something else.” The big man reached deep into the safe and plucked an envelope from the bottom. It was sealed and hand-addressed to a Mr. Marvin Johnson. That was the name Poppy used on his driver’s license and bank accounts.

  “Go, all of you,” Poppy said, “and wait for me in the truck.”

  When Poppy was alone, he sat on the edge of NJB’s neatly made-up bed and slit the envelope with his pocket knife. A single sheet of paper fell out inscribed with a single line of text: I swear on my life that I never harmed anyone.

  It was signed Jefferson Beaumont Bridges.

  Heavenly Father, what is the meaning of this?

  NN2 1.0

  IT WAS A girl’s room with all the trimmings: posters, mirrors, make-up, and clothes. It was so much a girl’s room that the Prophecy girls all hung out in it whenever they had the chance. Ginger said they were more than welcome, but Deut and Cora sent the little ones away in order to have it all to themselves.

  A shelf was crammed with sports and academic trophies, another with citations and awards. There was a bumper sticker wedged into the mirror frame that said, DON’T MESS WITH HOMESCHOOLERS.

  The Prophecys were homeschoolers too; that was something they had in common with Ginger. She was so pretty. And sophisticated, in a fallen-world sort of way. And nice too. She was Sarai and Deut’s age, but she dressed like a girl in a magazine, which could have been intimidating but wasn’t because she was so nice.

  CORA WAS LYING on top of Ginger’s bed and paging through a JCPenney clothes catalog with a sultry Jezebel on the cover. The bed was twice as wide as any of theirs, and Ginger didn’t have to share it with a sister. Cora sighed and said, “Don’t you wish we lived here?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Deut said. “I like it fine at home.”

  “I do too, but I’ll never have my own room at home.”

  “You will when you get married.”

  “No, I won’t. I’ll have to share it with my husband.”

  Deut was sitting at the desk where a laptop computer vied for space with stacks of books and college catalogs. There was a framed photo of Ginger in a ski jacket posing with other girls and boys. They were all pretty, especially the boys, and they were all laughing as though someone had just told a funny joke. There was nothing wrong with having friends and telling jokes.

  Deut had found a Bible on Ginger’s bookshelf and taken it down without Cora noticing. She sat with her back to her little sister-shadow while she searched it for verses her father often quoted.

  Just then the door flew open without a knock and Ginger breezed into the room and went straight to the closet. In less than a blink, the JCPenney catalog and Bible were out of sight.

  “Hey there,” Ginger said. “How’re things?” She rooted in the far recesses of the closet and emerged with two pairs of insulated ski pants.

  “Things are great,” Deut said. “Thank you for letting us be here.”

  “Don’t mention it. You’re my guests. Oh, and hey, Rory says he’s taking the kids to the sledding hill.”

  Deut said, “Who’s Rory?”

  “My little brother. You met him.”

  “Oh, right, Rory.”

  “Anyway, he wants to know if you two’d like to come along. I even have extra ski pants if you need ’em.” She laid the pants on the bed next to Cora.

  A silent test of wills arose between the sisters. Then, Cora, the apparent loser, whined, “But I want to go.”

  “Want, want,” Deut said. “The Devil’s middle name is want.”

  “Fiiine.”

  “Whoa,” Ginger said. She wasn’t sure what she had just witnessed. “If Cora wants to go sledding, what’s wrong with that?”

  The question flummoxed the Prophecy girls. The fallen world had different rules. How to explain?

  “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  “Then, why can’t she go and you stay here, if that’s what you both want?”

  “We can’t,” Cora said. “We have to stick together.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s our buddy system,” Deut said. “Like when you go swimming with a buddy.”

  “Okay,” Ginger replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I get it for when you’re swimming, but why do you need a buddy when you’re at home?”

  “Are you kidding? The home is Satan’s favorite hunting ground. You let your guard down when you’re at home, and you’re most vulnerable where you feel the safest. This is how we look out for each other.”

  “I see,” Ginger said, though she didn’t really. “Well, if Cora wants to go with the others, I guess I could be your buddy here. Does that work?”

  Such an idea! — to have this stranger as a buddy? Satan would have a picnic. It was bad enough with Cora as it was. Meanwhile, Cora willfully took Deut’s silence for approval and grabbed the pink pair of ski pants.

  AFTER CORA LEFT, Ginger began changing into a sweatshirt and jeans. De
ut turned her back when she realized what she was doing. “I see you’re homeschooled,” she said, taking a stab at small talk. “So are we.”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  “But if I lived in a town and had the chance to go to a real school, there’s no way I wouldn’t go there.”

  “I didn’t like homeschooling at the beginning,” Ginger said, “but I participate in a lot of extracurricular activities, so I don’t feel like I’m missing out. And believe me, I don’t miss the whole high school drama machine.”

  “Do your parents force you?”

  “They took Rory and me out of middle school. In high school Rory wanted to go back, and they let him. But by then I decided I liked homeschooling better.” Before Deut knew it, Ginger was heading for the door. “You want something to drink?” she said.

  Deut managed to say no thanks, but Ginger left too quickly for Deut to go on to explain that buddy shadowing didn’t work like that. You couldn’t just up and leave your buddy alone. Deut should have gotten up and followed Ginger to the kitchen, but the house was quiet, her brothers and Poppy were gone, and so she stayed where she was, alone, with a purloined Bible hidden on her lap. Could Satan have an easier target?

  DEUT TRACKED THE words with her finger. “Stop de . . . deprive . . . depriving one another ex . . . except by agree . . . ment. Stop depriving one another except by agreement.” No, whatever that meant, it wasn’t what she was looking for. Where was it? She was in the right book, 1 Corinthians, but the verse she sought was proving elusive. And the wording sounded odd.

  The next thing Deut knew, Ginger was standing behind her and reading over her shoulder. Blame it on the wall-to-wall carpeting that sucked the sound from your footsteps. “I have the Bible on my computer if you want to use it,” Ginger said.

  Startled, Deut jumped up to return the Bible to the bookshelf. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what? Borrowing my Bible? You’re welcome to borrow any of my books, especially my Bible. Actually, I’m a little surprised you didn’t bring your own with you.”