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Away From the Dark Page 17
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My thoughts continued to swirl from subject to subject with no answer in sight, until Father Gabriel’s words cut through my confusion.
“Therefore, do you not agree with our Lord, that we would rather be away from these earthly bodies, for then we will be at home in The Light?”
Away? Was this the Kool-Aid?
“Yes, Father,” came the congregation’s response.
“Are you certain, my children?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Remember the Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in men who are truthful. People in the dark lie, but you are in The Light. You’ve taken off your old self and become new. Who among you would like to go back to the dark?”
No one replied, and heads shook.
“It is taught that outside are the dogs, those who practice magic arts, the sexually immoral, the murderers, the idolaters, and everyone who loves and practices falsehood. Is that where you want to be?”
“No, Father.”
“Where do you want to be?”
“In The Light.”
“But can everyone stay in The Light?”
“No, Father.”
“What have we been told to do with our eye if it causes us to stumble?” He didn’t wait for the response as his voice rose in volume. “We’ve been taught to gouge it out. For it is better to go through life with one eye than to have two and be thrown into the dark!”
“Yes, Father.”
“Brother Abel, you and Sister Salome may come to the front of the congregation. Brother Uriel, please also come forward.”
I sat in awe and horror. My gaze searched for Sara’s, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking down, as were many of the women. No doubt they all suspected what was about to happen. I’d heard of services with banishments, but I’d never witnessed one. At the Northern Light the only banishments I’d known about had been done privately. When they were made public, it was more of a production for the other followers than for the ones who were to be banished—their fate was set.
A solemn hush fell over the temple as a young couple, probably in their late teens or early twenties, made their way to the front. She was crying and holding on to his arm. Apparently they’d needed encouragement to come forward, because the man who’d been behind me in the upstairs hallway was walking behind them. Brother Uriel stood from the row of Commissioners and moved to the center of the stage.
“Followers of The Light,” Brother Uriel said. “Do you trust your lives and souls to Father Gabriel?”
“Yes, Brother,” was said by all. The volume was considerably lower than it had been, the sense of impending correction falling like a damp blanket.
“What have we learned about disobedience?”
“It deserves correction.”
“Brother Abel, tell us what happened in production distribution.”
The young man bowed his head and began to tremble. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Brother?” Father Gabriel asked.
“I-I didn’t take . . . it wasn’t much . . . I just needed . . .”
“Brothers and Sisters, the product you toil to make is for what?” Brother Uriel asked.
“The Light.”
“Apparently Brother Abel forgot that as he was working to package product for shipment.” The followers inhaled collectively. “Not caring about The Light, he chose to keep some for himself.” Brother Uriel turned toward Sister Salome. “Sister, is Brother Abel your husband?”
“Y-yes.”
“And as such he’s caused you to stumble. Isn’t that correct?”
“F-Father, p-please, we won’t—”
“Congregation, is it better to gouge out these followers or allow them to drag us all into the dark?”
My empty stomach churned. When I looked for Sara, she was bent forward with her blonde hair falling down. However, as I stared, she momentarily sat up. Though her eyes were closed, I saw the telltale red blotches covering her cheeks and knew she was crying. I balled my fists, willing myself with every bit of self-control I possessed to remain seated.
I couldn’t comprehend.
Father Gabriel had invited Richards to this service. Surely Richards knew what was going to happen. Could he really have watched this and turned a blind eye? He was a fucking cop, but then again, I was a federal agent and I was watching.
“Yes, Father.” The response to Father Gabriel’s last question was the softest yet.
“Children, do you follow me?”
“Yes, Father.” It was a little louder.
“Do you believe in me?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Do you trust in me?”
“Yes, Father.” It was getting louder each time.
“Brother Uriel, the decree.”
Brother Uriel pulled two syringes from his jacket and handed them to Brother Abel and Sister Salome. Though they hesitated to take them, they did.
“Father Gabriel’s word tells us that all are to follow the rules of The Light. Correction is to be quick and appropriate. Brother Abel, you chose to take merchandise from the production center for your own use. You put yourself above The Light. As your punishment, Father Gabriel’s decree is to grant your desire and give you more.”
“Roll up your sleeves and show everyone your punishment.”
“P-please,” Sister Salome cried.
The big guy from the hall held her arm while another follower came forward and injected the contents of the syringe.
“N-no, she didn’t do anything,” Brother Abel cried, as his wife fell to the floor.
I wondered what the drug was and how much they were being given.
Was the intent to kill them?
“Brother Abel, your turn.”
Slowly, he did as he was instructed. Immediately after the contents of the syringe were injected he fell to the ground. Their mouths began to foam and their bodies twitched. Without being asked, the big guy and three others came forward, lifted the bodies, and carried them out.
“Children,” Father Gabriel said, bringing everyone’s attention back to him. “Correction isn’t pleasant. It’s not meant to be pleasant. It’s meant to keep everyone within The Light safe. When we have malfeasance among us, no one is safe. What do you say for the privilege of knowing that you are now safe?”
“Thank you, Father.”
Blood seeped from my cheek as I bit the soft flesh, controlling my protests.
For the next fifteen minutes, Father Gabriel continued to preach his sermon, talking about the beauty of correction and the importance of obedience.
CHAPTER 21
Sara
Oh my God.
I couldn’t watch and I couldn’t run, but I wasn’t alone. The other wives around me were responding the same way. Women I’d met only an hour ago held my hands. The toast Jacob had made me for breakfast threatened to return. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on keeping it down and not vomiting all over the worn carpet or my new sisters. It was a welcome distraction, because I couldn’t concentrate on what was happening in front of me. I’d seen dead bodies; however, I’d never watched someone die, or, more accurately, be murdered.
This had to stop. The evidence was mounting and both Jacoby and I were witnesses. With each passing second, I wanted nothing more than for the FBI to come running through the doors and stop this horror show. I wanted to look Father Gabriel in the face and tell him who I was and that I was helping to bring him down.
I took deep breaths, concentrating on my role. Although I recognized Brother Uriel as Uriel Harris, the developer, I couldn’t dwell on it. When the scene finally ended, the other wives and I released hands and fell into our own thoughts as Father Gabriel continued to preach.
I wasn’t listening to what he said, nor did I care. With my eyes down, I waited. Eventually people began to move around me, but I remained still, paralyzed by the correction I’d witnessed. And then I heard the one voice that could free me. With the one word, Sara, in his deep tone,
the tone that had praised me as well as corrected me, I was able to move.
Looking up with just my eyes, in the midst of this chaos, I was safe again, because Jacob was beside me, offering me his hand. It was another realization, one that the old me would never have admitted or probably experienced. Even with the mental checklist of laws I’d witnessed broken, I wanted the relief that came with giving my cares over to Jacob.
As I placed my hand in his, his warmth washed through me, alerting me to how cool I’d become. As I stood I wanted to fall into him and be surrounded by his strong arms. I wanted the only sound to be that of his steady heartbeat as my ear lay against his broad chest. I wanted him to protect me and to take me away from all this madness.
When our gazes met, his told me that he knew my every thought. Surrounded by the Eastern Light’s followers, without words, we spoke not only words but also an oration to each other. We both wanted out. This had to end. Coming back had been a mistake, but we would survive.
I couldn’t process what had happened, how it had happened, or why no one had tried to stop it. Biting my lip, I trapped the protests and declarations of indecency that had surfaced in my thoughts.
How could everyone just sit and watch two young people murdered—people who’d end up on Tracy’s tables at the Wayne County Morgue—people whose fingerprints were gone?
I knew the reality. No one would question their deaths. A young couple dying of a drug overdose, their bodies found in Highland Heights, wouldn’t even make WCJB’s news. No one in the dark would question. Why should they? No one in The Light had.
Silently we walked to the black SUV, my hand tightly encased in Jacob’s grip. Across Second Avenue from the parking lot was the old school building I’d watched. The curiosity I’d possessed even at the beginning of service no longer existed. Like my fingerprints, it was gone. I didn’t care what they did over there. Maybe I should restart my medicine after my period. Maybe then I could forget what had happened. As the tragedy of what we had witnessed consumed me, my only desire was to know that Jacob and I were safe and away from The Light.
Jacob, Brother Micah, and Brother Elijah spoke during the drive back to the compound, but I didn’t listen. Only the final words of the young couple, Sister Salome begging and Brother Abel pleading for her life, replayed in my mind.
Did things like that happen at the Northern Light? I’d never seen it or even heard of it. If leaving The Light wasn’t possible, at the very least, I wanted to go back to Alaska.
As we drove north on Highway 1, sitting straight took every muscle I possessed. The urge to melt into Jacob’s warmth was stronger than it had ever been. I knew it wasn’t an option. We were chosen. Public displays of affection weren’t permitted. When we arrived back on the compound, I dutifully followed Jacob into the outbuilding’s living quarters. Though the Michigan sun was shining and warm, I was chilled to the bone as I collapsed on the sofa.
Before I could speak, Jacob did. “Sara, cook Brother Micah’s and our dinner.”
I gazed up at him in disbelief. He wanted to eat after that?
He reached for my hand as his tone softened. “There’s food in the refrigerator. It only needs to be warmed.” As I stood he continued, “It’ll give you something else to think about.”
I nodded as I walked to the small kitchen. Jacob was right. I needed a distraction, but it wasn’t enough. I could have cooked a five-course meal and it wouldn’t have erased the images of what I’d seen. Besides, what I warmed wasn’t a five-course meal. Quite honestly, I would’ve rather cooked, but there weren’t ingredients. Pilots usually occupied these quarters, and they wouldn’t be expected to do more than warm their food.
After I cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen, Jacob took my hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“All right.” I didn’t care what we did. We knew Father Gabriel had two more sermons to preach before he’d be ready to fly back to the Northern Light. Besides, I wanted to talk to Jacob, and since the only place that was possible was in the bathroom, we couldn’t. Surely if we spent too much time in there together it would be questioned.
As we stepped outside, the sun and breeze warmed my skin. Lifting my face without sunglasses, I squinted. I didn’t care that I was supposed to keep my eyes down. Allowing the summer sun to kiss my cheeks reminded me of how much I loved fresh air. “I wish we had running shoes.”
Jacob smiled. “We have to walk toward the rear of the property. We aren’t allowed up near the mansion.” He took my hand and led me toward the landing strip.
As we walked past the Cessna, I said, “I want to leave.”
“I should have forced you to,” he replied sadly as we made our way farther and farther away from the cameras.
“I don’t mean that,” I corrected him. “Although yes, I want away from The Light. I meant I want to go back to the Northern Light.” I took a deep breath. “Tell me the truth. Does anything like what we saw today happen there?”
“I promised you no more lies. I’ll always tell you the truth. You don’t have to ask for it. And no, at least not that I’ve ever seen. There’ve been a few banishments since I’ve been on the Assembly, but they’ve been done privately.
“The Eastern Light is different than any of the other campuses. It’s in the middle of the dark. No one can walk away from the Northern or Western Light, not easily. They’re too isolated. So dealing with disputes or corrections doesn’t need to be as public or as severe. Here, obedience on every level is mandatory.”
“Are you defending what happened?” I asked, staring up at him.
“Hell no. There’s no defense. I’m justifying it, to you and to me.”
“I don’t want it justified. I want it stopped. Those kids will be left in some abandoned house in Highland Heights, and no one will question their death, just another drug casualty.”
“If you were a follower here, after what you just witnessed, would you steal drugs or even a paper clip?”
I shook my head.
“Would you disobey any directive?”
“No.”
“Those kids served as reminders for the entire Eastern Light.”
I shook my head. “I’ve always hated reminders.”
Jacob squeezed my hand. “By the way, Brother Raphael left your correction up to me.”
“And?” I asked, with my eyes open wide.
“And I took you to the coffeehouse. It’s done. As if it never happened.”
“Thank you.”
Jacob led me past the open space near the landing strip and into the woods at the perimeter. Looking up, I saw the tall trees and the way the leaves rustled in the breeze. Now that we were away, not only from cameras and microphones, but also from eyes that could peer from the mansion’s balcony or windows, the tension surrounding us lessened, and I leaned against his arm.
“Jacob, where were you right before service?”
“Oh, shit. With all that happened, I actually forgot.”
“What?”
“I received an invitation to go up to the offices on the second floor.”
“Father Gabriel?”
“No. Although he was there, eventually,” Jacob said, rubbing his chin. “It was from your . . . well, I don’t like to think of him as your anything. Ex, maybe?”
I stopped walking. “Dylan? You saw Dylan?”
Jacob nodded. “He punched me.”
My eyes opened wide. I couldn’t imagine it. I remembered how people had told me that Dylan was a hothead, but Jacob was bigger, much taller than Dylan. “Why?”
“He said he’d seen your face. It must have been on the cameras. I doubt he’d have been able to see it from the balcony, especially with your eyes down.”
“That doesn’t make sense. He turned me over to The Light, and then punched you because he assumed you’re the one who did this to me?”
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t get it either. Did you know he’s related to Father Gabriel? Probably he’s related to Garrison Clarkson.”
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My brow furrowed. “No, no, he’s not. His parents died when he was eighteen. He said his grandparents were dead, and he didn’t have any siblings.”
“I promised you honesty. I’m telling you what I heard. After he punched me, we exchanged a few words, and Father Gabriel came out of an office. Richards called Father Gabriel Uncle.”
I stopped walking and sat on the ground with my back against a tree. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I searched my memory. “No, I’m not doubting you,” I said quietly. When Jacob sat beside me, I reached for his cheek. Running my fingers along his jaw, I pouted. “I’m sorry he punched you. You didn’t do this. You didn’t deserve it.”
He inclined his face to my touch. “I don’t deserve it for that, but I’m sure I deserve it.”
“Well . . . that could probably be true,” I admitted with a grin. Glancing over his shoulder, I nodded in that direction. “What’s that over there?”
Jacob turned. In the distance was a concrete wall. With the trees I couldn’t see how high it was, or see the rest of the building. I didn’t remember seeing other buildings at the rear of the property when I’d looked on Google Earth.
“It’s a wall, like we have at the Northern Light. Although I’d guess polar bears aren’t too much of a problem around here. When I first started flying here it wasn’t here. I assumed they thought the woods would keep them safe, but a little under a year ago”—he reached for my hand and smiled—“about the time my life became fucked up, I saw the construction as I’d fly in. It took them a few months, but it completely encases the rear of the property.”
Even if I hadn’t seen Dylan on the balcony, what Jacob had just said confirmed that Dylan was involved, and that he’d lied to me. “You may think I’m crazy, but I think I’m the reason they built the wall.”