The Revelation Room (The Ben Whittle Investigation Series Book 1) (10 page)

Ebb made the sign of the cross. ‘Lead us not into
temptation.’

‘Jazz had a flat. He asked me to move in when I was just
past my fifteenth birthday. I didn’t need any convincing. I’d have walked over
hot coals to get away from home. I packed a few things in a bag, and that was
that. I never went back home again. Ever. But the good times didn’t last long.
Within a few weeks, Jazz was knocking me about. A slap here and a slap there. I
used to think I was doing something wrong. You know, like I hadn’t tried hard
enough. But then it escalated. And then he started bringing men back to the
flat. He made me have sex with them.’

‘The Devil’s disciples,’ Ebb said.

Dixie took a deep breath. ‘He used to tell me I was useless.
Useless in bed. Useless at giving his so-called friends a good time. I know now
they weren’t his friends. They were punters. I’d become a whore without even
realising it. I don’t even remember turning sixteen. By the time I reached seventeen,
my life was a conveyor belt of sex, drugs, beatings, more sex, more beatings,
more drugs.’

‘Jesus feels your pain, Sister Dixie.’

Dixie looked at Ebb. ‘You saved me, Father. You rescued me
from the clutches of evil. I owe my life to you.’

Ebb smiled. ‘The Lord brought me to your door, Sister. The
Lord is your salvation. Thank you for sharing, Sister Dixie. You may be
seated.’

Dixie smiled. A weak worn-out smile that kept its distance
from her eyes. She sat down. ‘Thank you, Father.’

Ebb stretched himself up to his full height. ‘You see the
evil we are up against? Satan is a slippery customer. We must not let our guard
down for one second. He is as elusive as the wind. As dangerous as the turning
tide. One wrong move, and, BAM!’ Ebb thumped the table. ‘He’ll be upon you like
a hog in heat.’

Tweezer held his hands up. ‘Lord, we ask that you protect us
from evil.’

‘Amen,’ the group mumbled.

Ebb gestured towards a young girl with a sandy-brown
crewcut. ‘Sister Emily. Please introduce yourself.’

Ben’s heart thumped in his chest. Even though she looked
nothing like the girl in the photograph Annabelle Hunt’s mother had given him,
having the same name was just too much of a coincidence.

Emily stood up and looked at Ebb. Her eyes looked red, as if
she’d been crying. ‘My name’s Emily. I’m nineteen years old. And I owe my life
to The Sons and Daughters of Salvation. Before I found Jesus, I was a lost
soul.’

‘Praise Jesus,’ Ebb chirped.

‘I was a wretched soul, lurching through life with no
purpose. I hated my life. My father was a bully. He thought everything could be
solved by barking out orders. He was an officer in the army.’

The coincidences piled up in Ben’s head. 

‘I never saw much of him when I was growing up. He was
always away working. Or fighting. Which I suppose was one and the same thing
with him. I didn’t like school. I didn’t have any proper friends. Girls were
too bitchy to bother with. As for boys, they were all immature.’

‘You are a paragon of virtue, Sister Emily.’

‘Thank you, Father.’

‘Please continue.’

‘But when I found Jesus, my life had meaning. A purpose. The
capitalist world has always disgusted me. The hypocrisy of a society built on
greed and selfishness. Everyone treading on top of one another with no
consideration for anyone else.’

‘The Lord watches. The Lord sees. The Lord knows the truth,’
Ebb babbled.

Emily nodded. ‘I thank the Lord Jesus Christ and The Sons
and Daughters of Salvation for rescuing me from a meaningless life and filling
up my heart with joy and purpose.’

Ebb raised a hand. ‘Thank you, Sister Emily. You may be
seated.’

Ben watched Emily sit down. She didn’t look like someone
whose heart was full of joy and purpose.

Ebb instructed Bubba to stand. The guy was six feet six in
his bare feet. He studied the table as if his life was mapped out in the knots
and scratches.  

Ebb introduced him. ‘This is Bubba. Because he doesn’t
speak, I’ll say a few words on his behalf. First things first; I think it’s
fair to say that Bubba was built with the farm….’

A ripple of dutiful laughter.

Ebb raised his hand.
I know. I should’ve been a stand-up
comedian
. ‘Bubba used to work for Brother Cyril right back when Penghilly’s
Farm was a working farm.’ Ebb paused and looked at Bubba. ‘Eggs and potatoes,
if memory serves me?’

Bubba nodded. The corner of one eye twitched. It looked as
if the big man was winking at Ebb.

Ebb continued. ‘Brother Cyril was the original owner of
Penghilly’s Farm. Sadly, Brother Cyril is no longer among us. He had an
accident with a tractor when we were felling trees. The Lord took him to eat at
His table, folks. May God rest his soul.’

‘God rest his soul,’ Tweezer echoed.

‘A sad day, indeed. But who are we to question the Lord’s
intentions? We are here to serve. But let it be known we are all grateful for
Brother Cyril’s contribution to The Sons and Daughters of Salvation.’

Bubba stared at the table. He seemed to mouth something. A
silent prayer, perhaps?

‘Bubba has been a good and loyal servant. I felt it my duty
to help him. To understand him. To take him into my care and show compassion.’

Tweezer held up a hand. ‘A most gracious act, Father.’

Ebb agreed. ‘We are nothing without benevolence, folks.
Nothing but empty shells. Bubba has proved to be a selfless worker. An honest
man who has given himself without complaint to the Lord. He speaks volumes
without words. The Lord is proud of you, Brother Bubba.’

Bubba nodded and studied the table.

‘Brother Cyril came to me in a dream and spoke of his love
for you, Brother Bubba.’

Bubba chewed his bottom lip and bowed his head further.

Ebb smiled and told Bubba to sit down. He then treated Ben
and Maddie to a slippery grin. ‘Okay, that’s the introductions over. Have you
guys got any questions?’

There were a dozen or so perched on Ben’s tongue like birds
on a telephone wire. ‘No, Father.’

‘What happens now?’ Maddie asked.

Ebb smiled. ‘You will both be indoctrinated into the group.’

‘How?’

‘Address the Father properly,’ Tweezer shouted.

Ebb waved a hand. ‘All in good time, Madeline. All in good
time. Sister Alice?’

‘Yes, Father?’

‘Show Madeline to her quarters.’

Alice stood up and inclined her head. ‘Yes, Father.’

Maddie walked out of the room behind Sister Alice. She
didn’t look back at Ben. She put him in mind of a prisoner being escorted to
her cell.

Ebb turned to Tweezer. ‘Take Benjamin to his quarters and go
through one or two of the house rules with him.’

Tweezer stood up. ‘Yes, Father.’

Ben followed Tweezer out of the kitchen, along the hall and
up a flight of stairs to a first floor landing. So this was it. No going back
now. They would either find his father and escape, or they would die trying. It
was as simple as that.

Tweezer led Ben into a
ten-feet-square room with a brass plaque on the door proclaiming
Brothers
.
Two pine bunk beds dominated one side of the room, with matching wardrobes
pushed against the opposite wall. Bare floorboards threatened Ben’s feet with
splinters.

Tweezer pointed at the bunk bed on the left. ‘You can have
the top bunk above Bubba. Brother Marcus occupies the other bottom bunk. He’s
tetchy about anyone sleeping above him. He reckons I disturbed him when I slept
in here. I’ve got my own room now, so I don’t have to listen to his moaning
anymore, thank God.’

Ben looked at the thin blue mattress. It looked about as
comfortable as a bed of nails. There was a blue sleeping bag rolled up and
placed on a lumpy pillow at the top of the bed.

Tweezer sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.
‘The wardrobe on the left belongs to Marcus. He’s got more clothes than the
rest of us put together. You’ll have to share with Bubba. You’ll find
underpants and vests in the drawer underneath. Socks and winter boots are in
the Mud Room downstairs. They’re for winter use. All soiled laundry goes in the
laundry bin in the bathroom. Emily takes care of the laundry. You’ll have all
this explained to you after your inauguration.’

Ben looked at Tweezer for signs of humanity. ‘Inauguration?’

‘Induction into the group.’

Ben looked around the room at the dirty cream walls. The
paint was cracked and peeling in places. Sunlight speared the grime on a window
next to his bunk.  

Tweezer looked at his watch. ‘Supper’s at seven. There’s a
bathroom along the landing if you want a scrub-up first. I wouldn’t bother with
the shower, though. I could piss faster than that thing.’

Ben nodded. ‘Okay.’

Tweezer stroked his beard. ‘I’ll give you one or two ground
rules. Nothing too heavy. Just an idea of how we expect members to behave.
First off, there is no talking allowed after nine at night. You may read the
Bible and pray, but conversation is banned. I’d advise you to pay attention to
this. Sometimes the Father will ask for chores to be carried out, but again,
silence must be observed at all times.’

‘What sort of chores?’

‘Sometimes things need mending. Sometimes you might be on
kitchen duty preparing food for the next day. There’s always a stack of
cleaning to do. And then there’s the goats, but Bubba does most of the outside
work.’

‘Why doesn’t he speak?’ Ben asked.

‘Search me. Like the Father says, he was here when the farm
was built.’

‘How does anyone know his name, then?’

Tweezer looked at Ben. He had the same shadow lurking in his
eyes that Ben had seen in Ebb’s earlier. ‘That’s a lot of questions, Benjamin. Remember
what curiosity did to the cat?’

‘Sorry.’

‘If you must know, he tried to say “Brother” at his
inauguration, and could only manage Bubba.’

‘I wonder what’s wrong with him?’

‘You’re not here to wonder, Benjamin. You’re here to serve
the Lord Jesus Christ.’

Ben looked out the window and fought an urge to run and jump
out of it. ‘Sorry.’

Tweezer sneezed and wiped his nose. ‘Bloody hay fever. I’ll
be glad when winter’s here.’

‘Antihistamines are good for hay fever. My mum suffers from
hay fever.’

‘We don’t allow medicine here. The Father says it interferes
with God’s will.’

Ben tried to reconcile this information with his need for
painkillers. ‘How does it interfere with God’s will?’

Tweezer ignored the question. ‘You’re not any good with
plumbing by any chance?’

Ben shook his head. Outside of putting a plug in the sink,
his plumbing skills were zero. ‘No. Sorry.’

‘Have you got
any
specialist skills?’

Ben didn’t think he specialised in much. Not unless
buggering things up counted as a skill. ‘Not really.’

‘Please address me properly. I’m willing to cut you some
slack because I know this takes a bit of getting used to. I took a while to get
into the swing of things, but I can tell you from my own experience, it pays to
learn quickly.’

Ben nodded. ‘Sorry.’

‘Brother Tweezer.’

‘Brother Tweezer,’ Ben repeated.

Tweezer smiled. ‘Good man. Right, where were we? Ground
rules. No one may leave the farm other than the Father and Brother Marcus. That
rule is rigid unless the Father gives special consent. To be honest, if you
want my advice, forget the outside world. It’s full of contamination and
corruption anyway.’

Ben wondered how Marcus and Ebb avoided such widespread
contamination and corruption. Were they immune to it? Vaccinated against it?

Tweezer rattled on. ‘The Devil stalks the streets, Benjamin.
None of us are safe. Even Brother Gerald fell foul to temptation.’

Ben remembered Ebb’s offer to give him Brother Gerald’s
overalls. ‘What happened to him?’

‘It was a personal matter between the Father and Brother
Gerald. It was dealt with. Now, where were we? Ground rules. We don’t believe
in hospital treatment. Medicine violates God’s will.’

‘Isn’t that similar to what Jehovah’s Witnesses believe?’

Tweezer crossed himself. ‘The Sons and Daughters of
Salvation may have certain similarities to other religious groups, but we are
unique. It’s important that you never refer to any other religious groups in
the presence of the Father. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, Brother Tweezer.’

‘We believe that the body is a holy temple. We do not permit
abuse of that temple with tobacco or alcohol. Do you smoke or drink alcohol?’

‘I drink sometimes, but I don’t smoke.’

‘Then abstinence should come easy to you.’

‘I guess.’

‘You need to address me properly.’

‘Brother Tweezer.’

‘Don’t be so flippant around the Father. Make sure you
address him properly at all times.’

‘Yes, Brother Tweezer.’

Tweezer sneezed four times and then pinched his nose between
his thumb and forefinger for a few seconds. ‘Saturday is our day of rest.
That’s not to say you won’t be called upon to perform tasks, but as a rule, you
are free to rest. Our motto is work, rest and pray. A simple philosophy that
has served us well.’

Ben was certainly ready to pray. Pray with all his heart and
soul to any God that would have him.

‘All men are to remain celibate. Procreation by anyone
outside of the Father will be dealt with by castration. It might sound a
barbaric measure, but it is designed with compliance in mind. In short,
Benjamin, keep it in your trousers.’

‘Yes, Brother Tweezer.’ 

‘Everything is God and God is everything. All reality is
part of the whole,’ Tweezer babbled, ‘man is part of God, and man never dies.’

Ben wondered who occupied all the graveyards in the real
world if man never died.

‘No contact is allowed with the outside world, other than to
procure funds.’

Ben remembered Emily Hunt’s demands for money. ‘Funds?’

Tweezer ignored him. ‘You must never question the Father, or
those designated to act as leader in his absence. Doing so is tantamount to
disagreeing with God Himself.’

Ben nodded. ‘Yes, Brother Tweezer.’

‘That’s about it for now. The Father will fill you in on the
finer details later, but that’s the gist of it. Any questions?’

‘No, Brother Tweezer.’

‘We sound a bell for supper at seven. Attend as soon as you
hear it. The Father doesn’t tolerate slack behaviour.’

‘Yes, Brother Tweezer.’

Tweezer walked out of the room and closed the door. Ben took
a deep breath. The air was stale. It smelled of old socks and bad breath. Dust
swirled in shafts of sunlight. He walked over to the window and peered through
the grime at a back garden overgrown with weeds and brambles. Beyond the
garden, a field stretched off into the distance. The brick-built tower loomed
over the courtyard like a prisoner of war guard tower.  

Ben tried to lift the sash window, but it was either stuck
or locked. A splinter jabbed into his thumb. Did The Sons and Daughters of
Salvation permit the removal of splinters? Or would that be classed as
interfering with God’s will? What about if you cut yourself? Were you allowed
to put a plaster on the wound?

Ben pressed his nose up against the glass. He could see the
shape of someone in yellow overalls standing behind the guardrail at the top of
the tower. It was impossible to tell for sure who it was, but considering Ebb
had told Marcus to relieve Tweezer, Ben didn’t need a pair of binoculars to
confirm who it was. Marcus was holding a rifle. Sunlight glinted off the barrel
like a Devil’s wink.

Ben’s breath fogged up the window. He wiped it clean with
his sleeve and looked out again. The rifle seemed to be pointing at him. Ben
ducked down out of view.

‘What have I done?’ Ben asked the empty room. One look into
Edward Ebb’s eyes had been enough to tell him that his father was already dead.
And one look at that tower was enough to tell him he would suffer the same
fate.

He sat on the floor with his back against the wall. He
thought about Pastor Tom and his mother. He closed his eyes and wished with all
his heart he’d never come anywhere near this god-awful place.