After getting Missy into the ground and filling in her grave, Esther went back to the farmhouse to tell the others what had happened. It was well into the afternoon and her stomach rumbled. She had mud and muck all over her overalls and smeared on her face, too. She didn’t just feel filthy from the soil, she felt dirty after touching the dead animal, even one she’d liked.
She followed the usual path that took her away from the yard and any prying eyes. The Children of James did not run around wherever they wanted, they had special routes to take so that any visitors wouldn’t notice they were there. And they certainly never worked in the yard or the outhouses when the courses were going on, or Father James had a meeting with an outsider. She walked down the steps at the back of the house and in through the cellar door. She could wash the dirt from her hands in the downstairs toilet. Wash away the feel of Missy’s cold chicken feet inside her fist.
She was tired. Not just from the physical labour, but tired of thinking and worrying and wondering what would happen next. She kept thinking about Father Adam and the strange words he’d said to her about putting a stop to things. It was later, in the children’s bunker, that she’d realised he wasn’t just talking about the vegetable garden, he was talking about the whole family, or maybe the Reckoning, she wasn’t sure. But since then, she’d decided to tell Father James all about it, if she could get to him. He was always busy, and Esther didn’t like his bodyguards. She didn’t want to talk to them.
She dried her hands and face, then stepped out of the washroom and brushed the mud from her shoes using a small wire brush they kept by the door. She went up the steps to the kitchen to find Mary chopping onions and garlic. Perhaps it was the onion fumes, or more likely it was Mary being weepy again, but there were tears running down her cheeks from her red-rimmed eyes to her pimpled chin.
“Hi, baby,” she said. “Why are your clothes dirty?”
“I had to bury Missy,” Esther answered.
Mary put down the knife and opened her arms. “Would you like a hug? I know she was your favourite chicken.”
Esther stood there for a long moment, staring at those open arms, weighing up her options. At least Mary was coherent today. At least she seemed aware of her surroundings. Esther decided that she did want a hug and she folded into her mother’s arms, leaning into her in a way she hadn’t done in weeks. Mary hugged her tightly. She smelled like onions and saltwater.
“Can we leave, please, Esther?” Mary whispered. “Will you come with me if I get us out?”
Esther pulled away. “No.”
Mary’s eyes were too wide. Up close, Esther saw that there were sketches of red veins across the whites of her eyeballs, and that tear tracks marked her skin all the way down to her collarbone. “We can’t stay here, honey. I can’t stay here. You have no idea what he does to me. You don’t… You shouldn’t. No child should know what he does. And I don’t know who’ll be next but there will be someone. He talks about Grace in a way I don’t like, Esther. Please, baby, you need to wake up. You need to understand who he is.” She sniffed. “I’m addicted now, I know I am. I don’t know what he gives me, but I know I need it.” She hugged Esther’s tiny body with skinny, frail arms. “Maybe I’m not strong enough to get us out. I don’t know where we’d go anyway. We don’t have any money now. I haven’t heard from Noah for months. Elijah won’t help me anymore. It’s… it’s useless, isn’t it?”
“I need to go now.” Esther pulled away from her, afraid. This was why she avoided Mary, because of the rants and rambles. Seeing her just brought on the late-night cramps.
“He’ll kill us,” Mary continued. “He’ll kill us at the Reckoning. He keeps talking like it’s going to be soon, like he already has a plan. He’s going to start it. Him. Not God. Him. He just wants us all to die.”
Esther hurried out into the hallway, relieved to see her mother wasn’t following. Esther wanted to be away from her rambling, from those words that made her skin crawl. But once she was out of the kitchen, she bumped straight into Isaiah, bouncing back from his protruding belly. He folded his arms and glared at her.
“Scram, mouse.”
“I… I need to speak to Father,” she said, craning her neck to find his face.
The bearded man leaned against the wall. He was chewing something. Maybe tobacco. She wasn’t close enough to smell it. “All right. He’s just had a visitor and I think he has ten minutes.”
Esther’s anxiety eased slightly. She turned in the direction of Father’s office, but as she was turning, she noticed movement outside the house. The lounge door was open, and she could see through the door to the window that overlooked the yard. It was normal to see people walking around the ranch, but this was different. This was an outsider. Esther recognised the size, shape and stride of the person walking across the yard. It was Mrs Cole, the woman her mother had befriended back in England. Fran. What was she doing here? She froze, watching Fran stroll casually across the yard with Caleb. Esther knew that he handled the new recruits, so did that mean Fran was joining the cult?
“Are you coming or what?”
Esther pulled her gaze away from the window and back to Isaiah. She nodded her head once and followed the large man down the hall to Father James’s office.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Detective Woodson didn’t keep her waiting. In fact, he led her through to a meeting room almost immediately. “I know you stopped by a second time. Sorry it took me so long to call you. I had to prioritise the missing boy.”
“That’s right. Jayden. I saw the posters. Has he been found yet?”
Woodson sighed as he took a seat across from her. “Small details so far. In fact, that’s why I wanted to speak to you. Officer Garcia mentioned you were asking about the Children of James. She remembered you saying that your friend and her daughter were part of the cult. Now, during the investigation into Jayden’s disappearance, the Children of James came up in a few statements. Someone saw a cult member hanging around near where the boy lived. It could be nothing. Those cultists have a habit of loitering around different neighbourhoods asking for donations. But the same thing came up in another missing child case from a few years ago, Lucy Caruso. That worried me, and given the age of your friend’s daughter, I thought we’d best have another conversation.”
“I think you’re right,” Fran said. “I went to the ranch. I had a one on one conversation with Father James, and,” she reached into her bag and took out her phone, “I recorded it.
Woodson leaned across the table, his eyes fixed on the phone. “You did what?” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “How did you get access?”
“One of their recruiters gave me a leaflet on the street. I contacted them and booked a consultation. Then I took the day course. After that, I had lunch with one of the cult recruiters and he persuaded me I was a perfect candidate for the family. He told me Father James wanted to meet me. They think I’m a shoe-in. I guess I do make a good impression of a broken woman.” She let out a small laugh, but it was a hollow one.
Woodson raised his eyebrows. “You after my job now, Mrs Cole?” But a smile played on his lips. “I’m not endorsing this amateur sleuth racket you’ve got going on here, but tell me everything you can remember.” He flipped open his notebook and clicked the pen. “It could be important, especially to Jayden and Lucy.”
“Well,” she said, “for one thing, I didn’t see any children or anything connected to a child, like clothes or toys. Inside the farmhouse there are no pictures of children at all. But James told me there were children on the farm after I pressed him on the subject. This might be a little muffled. It was in my bag.” She unlocked the screen and scrolled through to the right app. Then she tapped play and turned the volume up as high as it would go.
Woodson cocked his head, listening. She didn’t fast forward, but she did cringe when she heard herself confessing her fears. When Father James started talking about children, Woodson positioned his ear even closer to the phone.
<
br /> “What did you sign?” he asked once it was over.
“An NDA. But I signed it using my mother’s maiden name. I’m hoping it isn’t legally binding.”
He sighed. “That’s fraud, Mrs Cole.” But then he pursed his lips and added, “Without seeing the NDA you signed, or speaking to a lawyer, I can’t know for sure if what you signed is legally binding or not. But you should probably delete this recording and we’ll forget we had this conversation. It was certainly useful to listen to what you have here, but he doesn’t talk about any criminal activity. However, while he doesn’t incriminate himself on this, it does tell me that he lied about there being children on the ranch. Now, we searched that place high and low after Lucy Caruso’s disappearance and we didn’t find even a trace of a child. No toys, no clothes, no food for kids. There was one pregnant woman living there but that was it. If there are children in the cult, he purposefully hid them away when we visited.”
Woodson asked Fran to rewind the recording so that he could listen to the section where James spoke about law enforcement taking children into care.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about here,” he said. “As far as I know, no children have ever been removed from the cult because as far as any authorities knew, there weren’t any children living there. He’s trying to get you on his side from the get-go.”
“Do you want me to go back and find out more?” Fran asked.
“No,” he said sharply. “We don’t know how dangerous this cult could be, and I don’t want to be worrying about you, Mrs Cole.” His eyes twinkled. “With the witness testimony claiming cult members had been hanging around Jayden’s home, I’ll be requesting another search warrant for the ranch. The job is in hand, now. There’s no need for you to put yourself in harm’s way.”
“Do you think they’re that dangerous?”
“I don’t know what to think,” he admitted. “There’s a chance they’ve been purposefully hiding children on their property. Good people don’t tend to do that. Factor in two missing children and that’s pretty suspicious to me.”
She had to agree with him, which made the blood drain from her face. “What about Mary and Esther?”
“If we find any missing children on the premises then someone is being arrested, and chances are it’ll be James himself. Or Roger, or whoever the hell he is. If the leader is arrested, I’d imagine that the cult is over. They are the Children of James after all. And if the cult is over, your friends will be safe. Though, I am now suspicious of one thing.”
“Esther,” Fran said. “You don’t think she’s Mary’s daughter.”
“Do you?” he asked.
But Fran wasn’t sure. She left with a heavy heart. Could Mary have kidnapped Esther? She was a similar age to the missing girl—Lucy—though Fran didn’t know what she looked like. And would either of them be safe if Father James was arrested? Perhaps this Father Adam would step in, or one of the henchmen. She’d heard of cults continuing long after the incarceration or even death of the leader. Indoctrinated people did not let go easily. However, despite her fears, she’d agreed with Woodson to stay out of the investigation. He’d seemed happy to accept her promise and made one of his own—to call her if he discovered Mary and Esther living on the ranch. She caught a taxi back to the hotel, the Book of James still inside her bag. A heavy sensation laid low in her gut, telling her that this wasn’t over.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Esther didn’t get to see Father James that afternoon because Father Adam stepped into the office and took her appointment. It was more important for Adam to speak with him, apparently, and she couldn’t tell Adam anything because she didn’t trust him. Instead, Esther went outside and got on with the rest of her chores. She helped Paul untangle a wire fence damaged by a goat and fed the chickens. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but she didn’t want to eat. She enjoyed this new sensation clawing at her insides. Hunger took away all of her bad thoughts because when she was hungry, all she thought about was food and the pain in her belly. It stopped her worrying about Father James and God and Missy and Mary and Father Adam and Fran.
Before dinner, she went to the storm shelter for a shower, finally scrubbing away the last of the dirt. Grace was there and they played in the water together like they did most days, splashing and throwing the soap around. She felt woozy and needed to sit down for a moment. Luckily, none of the other children seemed to notice that she wasn’t feeling well. She dried and got dressed. Esther braided Grace’s and Delilah’s hair into pigtails before Grace helped her with her own. She helped Paul with a tie. They always dressed smartly for dinner. No one helped Stinky. He sat sullenly on his mattress. He wouldn’t leave at first, until Paul made him.
Even though she’d been playing with Grace, Esther was still a bit annoyed about their argument. But she still sat next to Grace in the sermon hall. Esther’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Mary, but Father James kept her mother by his side. Esther had to look away from her gaunt appearance and glazed eyes. It tugged at something inside her, a part of herself she tried to lock down deep.
She had creamed spinach, pine nuts, goats’ cheese and tomatoes on her plate. Caleb sliced up sourdough bread and portioned out butter. It was a good meal and Esther liked all of the ingredients, but she ended up giving most of her food to Paul and little David. Grace ate all of hers but didn’t need seconds.
“What’s the matter?” Grace asked. “Don’t you feel well?”
“My stomach hurts,” Esther said.
“Did you eat something bad at breakfast?”
“No, it’s been hurting for a long time.”
“You should see Ruth.”
“I’m fine.”
Esther forced down another piece of bread to try and shut her up about it. She could see her friend’s worried expression out of the corner of her eye.
A tinkling sound interrupted dinner as Isaiah tapped a spoon against a glass. A gradual silence folded out across the hall. Smiling faces turned to their patriarch, Father James.
The Father stood with the help of his cane, swaying unsteadily from side to side. But when Isaiah and Zachary lurched forward, he waved away their help. The rest of the family stood with him. “It’s time to welcome a new member into our fold. Many of you will have seen Father Adam around the ranch already. Now I want to introduce you to him. Those of you who joined the family at the very start of our journey know Father Adam very well.” Father directed his gaze towards the older members. There weren’t many of them now and they tended to keep to themselves rather than mingle with the newer folks. They raised their glasses as though toasting to themselves. “Back then, during those special days, Father Adam and I listened to God and we heard what he was saying. We knew that he wanted us to build a holy community.” He raised his eyebrows and lowered his voice. “And that’s what we did. Brick by brick. From the foundations up. We listened to God when he told us what kind of heaven he desired. And then we found the right people to join our garden. And now, here we are, all these years later, together as one. Adam, my brother, I am grateful for your return. We will face the Reckoning together.” Father raised his glass and the family cheered, all lifting their glasses of apple cider.
Esther felt a flush of heat work its way up from her neck, spreading like a rash across her flesh. She gulped in air as the unbearable heat vigorously consumed her, but she couldn’t breathe. The air had been stolen from her lungs. One resounding thought speared through her mind, as searing and sharp as a branding iron: she was dying. She would never take another full breath ever again. The pulsating in her ears sounded as though they were either full of liquid or she was underwater. Right before her eyes, Grace’s mouth opened and closed as though she was screaming words at her, but Esther didn’t hear a single syllable. Her legs felt like jelly. She stumbled backwards. She was vaguely aware of herself hitting the ground and soreness spreading across her hip and back. When everyone rushed towards her, she saw mere glimpses of their torsos before th
e world went dark.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Esther woke to the sound of Ruth’s voice chattering away. The woman had an unpleasantly raspy voice that always sounded like a chastisement. At first, she sounded far away but then close. Too close. Esther winced. Her head was still fuzzy and throbbing, and it was difficult to concentrate. She heard Ruth talking about sleeping, eating and the dry summer heat. Esther slid her hands across the surface around her and realised she was lying on top of soft sheets on a firm but comfortable mattress, not the thin, grimy mattresses they slept on in the storm shelter. She lay there watching the woman rinse out a cloth before plunging it into a bowl of ice. Ruth was one of the oldest members of the family, slightly younger than Father but not much. She had closely cropped grey hair, a bulge of extra weight around the middle and large breasts that swung freely beneath her dress.
“How’s that?” Ruth pressed the cold cloth to Esther’s forehead.
“It’s okay,” Esther said. It felt good. The coolness spread through her, soothing the remnants of the sudden heat that had consumed her in the sermon hall. As the memory of her unconsciousness came back, so did the fear. She’d never felt anything like it before. Not even during the night she slept outside with the coyotes.
“What do you remember?” Ruth asked.
“I couldn’t breathe,” she replied. “I felt faint.”
“What else.”
“I was scared.”
Ruth pursed her lips for a moment and then nodded to herself. “Okay. I think I know what happened. You’re quite young for a panic attack, though. Did you eat all your food today? I never saw you at lunch.”
“I didn’t go,” Esther admitted.
“So, you haven’t been eating properly. Well, that could be the reason.” She pressed on the cloth and water trickled across Esther’s temples. “You certainly look like skin and bone.” She removed her hand from the cloth and straightened up. “I’ve put you in a guest room and told Father James that you should stay here tonight. You need proper rest. You’ll be relieved from your duties tomorrow, do you understand?”
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