Dark Paths: Apocalypse Riders (12 page)

“You were in that room for only a day,” the minister informed her when they were alone together later that evening. He sent the girls away for “reflection time.” Planning their violent escape would come after they got their hands on Lia’s weapons. She’d gotten away with too many on her person for them to just leave them behind. “Mmm. Maybe two.”

“It felt like ages,” she said. He had no mattress for her, but he’d laid out what looked like a pile of couch cushions. He had a cot himself. “It was so dark.”

“I didn’t know you were so fearful,” he said. “We’ll have to work on that. The purification will help.”
Oh.
It was silly to hope he’d let the ritual go.

“When?” she whispered.

“The morning,” he said.

“Where will we go when we get out of here?”

“A few of the girls spoke of rest stops. Safe places with hidden supplies. We’ll sack what we can and then find a new farm to settle.” He sat on his cot, lost in thought. “We’ll find and keep more vehicles on hand in case the herd finds us again. I’ll teach you girls how to drive.”

“I”d like that,” she said with a smile. She’d just gotten her license in her old life when the apocalypse happened. She was sure she remembered how to operate a vehicle, but probably not how to drive very well. Driving a truck sounded like a good way to escape the herd, too, if it came to that again.

Or a motorcycle.

She settled down in her pile of cushions. Father Speer switched off the little hand-cranked lamp he carried himself, bathing them in darkness, and then sank to the floor next to her. She froze in fear.
Not now.
She thought of Call and of the way he’d reacted when she spoke of the minister’s nighttime habit.

Father Speer scooted closer, until she could feel his breath on the top of her head. “We’ll all be safe again soon. You’ll see.” His hand rested on her hip. “You’ve done many wrongs, Lia, but we will cleanse you of them. We all have our weaknesses.” He brushed his fingertips beneath her shirt and across her ribs. “I do, too.”

The alarm bells returned. The ones that she never heard with Call. The ones that told her “this is wrong.” But she ignored them as she always did, allowing the minister to touch her, allowing herself to go through the motions of helping him get off and soil her hand. All the while she stared up into the darkness. The familiar ball of dread was back. It felt like home again, all right.

◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙

They began the ritual first thing in the morning. They left the smaller offices where they slept and gathered once more in the conference room. She realized they were in an isolated segment of the floor of the building - a suite of sorts, with two heavy wooden doors splitting them off from the larger part of the complex. Those doors were barred, she realized - shotguns jammed between the pull bars. No one would be able to push their way in. The only other way to reach the floor was through the stairs, but Lia realized as she stepped out that Father Speer had the girls on rotating guard duty.

They really had managed to isolate themselves within the sanctuary.
Though he claims it isn’t a sanctuary at all.

All four girls gathered behind Father Speer as he instructed Lia to stand with her hands against the wall. “Emily was the last to be purified amongst us. As she is no longer with us and cannot perform the ritual, I shall step up.”

Oh, shit.
The curse word rose to her mind automatically.
I suppose I’ll be cleansed of that as well.
Father Speer never delivered the lashes, but something told her it wasn’t because he took an issue with violence. And that same something told her he wouldn’t have the most gentle hand.

His whip had been left behind on the farm. He showed her what appeared to be a modified belt - cut thinner at the end that would be hitting her back.
Did he make that for my benefit? Or earlier?
“Lift your shirt.” She shivered as she bared her back to him and the to the girls.

“How many?” Lia asked.

“Twenty.” His voice was low. “You deserve more for what you’ve done with that man. But we can be merciful. You were led astray because you were afraid and you lost faith in your family, but you’ve come home to us now.”

“Yes, Father.”

The very first strike took her breath away. She knew right away, there was going to be blood; she wouldn’t be standing by the end.

She wasn’t wrong. Just a few lashes in, she could feel the hot wetness of her own blood trickling down her back. Just a few strikes in, she could feel her knees shaking, threatening to give out, could feel the floor calling her closer. “Six. Seven.” Her already hoarse voice was soon raw; her nails broke on the wall in front of her. “Eleven. Twelve.” She felt like her back was one fire, like it was being torn apart.

When she finally hit the ground, he kept on, counting out each strike relentlessly, “fourteen, fifteen, sixteen.” She shook violently with barely audible sobs by the time he reached twenty.

“Lia has atoned,” he said to the girls. He was out of breath. “She is forgiven. Her sins are no more.”

“Her sins are no more,”the girls echoed.

She was dizzy. She barely registered that it was over. Sobs tore painfully from her throat. “We need to stitch her up, Father,” one of the girls dared to say.

“Do it.”

If nothing else, the pain cleared her head. Time slowed as if she were in a dream. Someone moved a table from the far end of the room. The hands that lifted her from the floor rested her on her stomach across the cold, hard surface. Gentle hands washed the blood away with clean cloths and water. Father Speer looked on from the doorway, listening, supervising. Watching over them.

“It isn’t as bad as it looks,” Danielle assured her, sinking down to her eye-level. The girl was blurry through her tear-filled eyes. “There’s only a couple spots that need to be sewn together.”

“We still have some antibiotics in Simone’s pack.”

“I’ll get a fire started on the roof so we can boil the needles.”

“I’ll get her some water.”

They worked together to take care of her. Though her back throbbed, she finally relaxed. She was forgiven. Things were right with her family once again.
My sins are gone. My heart is clean.

But has Call been washed away as well?

◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙

She encountered him sooner than she’d expected or been prepared for. Father Speer allowed her to rest on his cot once the girls had finished taking care of her. Simone watched over her as she dozed, as the others gathered water from the containers they used to capture it on the roof. “Rained last night a little,” Simone explained, “So we should have enough for a little while.”

Lia didn’t speak but Simone didn’t seem to mind. She chatted away about how they’d been surviving and what they planned to do and what sort of place she hoped to settle in next. Above all other concerns the silly girl wanted her own room.

Father Speer appeared in the doorway halfway through the girl’s rant about Yvonne’s snoring. “I have a task for you, Lia, if you’re up to it. It’s important.”

“What is it?” she asked, her voice painfully scratchy.

“Leave us,” he said to Simone. She scurried out the door, and the minister shut it behind her. “Their president keeps banging on the door and demanding to speak with you.”

He’s been asking for me?
Something twisted in her gut. “I can stand,” she said. “What do you want me to do?”

“Convince him to bring your supplies back,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if she would think about her supplies and her guns while her back was on fire.

“He’ll bring them if I ask,” she said. She winced as she sat up. “Is he here now?”

“Yes. The stairway doors. I’ll be right there behind you but do not open them.”

“I won’t.”

He helped her to her feet, but she shook him off as she walked.
No weakness. Not even now.

She nearly stumbled when she saw his face through the little window. Wedges along the bottom held the door shut tight. Call himself could probably burst in using brute strength, but not before they heard him, not before they had a chance to shoot him. So he remained on the other side and spoke to her through the glass.

“Shit,” he said, “What did they do to you?” Her stomach twisted with the pain on his face.

“Good to see you too, Call,” she said with a weak smile. She was conscious of Father Speer listening over her shoulder - it was best to keep this brief. “Can you bring me my pack? And my guns?”

“Are you serious?” His eyes darted behind her. “You son of a bitch,” he snarled. Father Speer scowled and stepped out of his line of sight. “Lia, please, come with me. Don’t do this.”

“My stuff, Call. You promised you weren’t going to try to take my things, remember?”

His faced darkened. “I remember.”

“You’ll bring them?”

“Tell me what they did to you.”

“I’ve been purified,” she said, “I told you about it, once.”

He grimaced. “Goddammit, Lia.”

“It was necessary. Now I am cleansed and can be part of the family again.” She said the words, but her whole heart wasn’t in them. She looked at her feet.

Call slammed his fists on the door. “Goddammit! I should have fucked you as soon as you told me about this bastard. He wouldn’t trap you here then, huh? He’d kick you right the fuck out.” He looked back over her shoulder to where Father Speer had been standing a moment ago. “Wouldn’t you, you sick piece of shit!”

Tears filled her eyes. “Don’t shout at him, Call. Please. Just bring my things?”

“We’re having the funeral out in the courtyard tonight,” he said instead, “For Wales. Just thought you’d like to know.”

“Call, please…” His expression softened when her tears spilled over, but only a little.

“After the funeral. Someone will bring them by in the morning. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered.
Someone. Not him. Maybe that’s a good thing.
She wanted to warn him about Father Speers’ violent escape plan, but she bit her tongue.
It would be a betrayal, wouldn’t it? I’m not supposed to be having these thoughts. I’ve been cleansed!

He touched his fingers to the glass and opened his mouth to say more. No words came out. He turned and left.

“You heard?” she asked the minister, “The morning. If he doesn’t deliver then maybe I can go get them myself.” He frowned. “With you or one of the girls, of course,” she said quickly.

“We’ll consider it.”

She wiped sweat from her forehead. “I need to lie down.”

“Yes,” he said, the smiled gently. “I might have some tea stashed away in my bag. I’ll brew you some. Go on back to the cot.”

See?
she told herself,
Family. This is right, this is where I belong.
But no matter how she fought it, her mind strayed back to Call. The biker president never made her feel that dread in her belly, never would have made her feel such shame for her sins - heck, they weren’t sins at all according to him. More than anything else, he never would have whipped her. Not for anything. She couldn’t even imagine it.
Blasphemy! He’s a devil’s man, he wears it on his vest! Oh, God, what is wrong with me?

She woke with a heaving gasp.
I can’t leave it like this.
The hurt on Call’s face haunted her relentlessly.
If this means I need to be purified again, so be it.
Father Speer snored from the pile of cushions. She slipped from the cot and tiptoed from the room, careful not to wake him. Simone was guarding the door, but unsurprisingly, the girl had dozed off sitting up. No one was going to try to break in knowing how well the minister’s girls could shoot.

The door to the stairway creaked as she pulled it open. She had to kick the wedges aside - there was no way for her to reposition them the way they were, but if they found the cot empty it would be pretty obvious what had happened, anyway.
I won’t take long.
Shards of pain shot up and down her back as she descended, making her gasp and pause at each landing. When she finally got to the bottom and stepped outside, she heard music.
The funeral.
It sounded like people were playing guitars and fiddles and some little drums.
A little lively for a funeral.
At least it would be easy to find Call. She didn’t quite remember where his apartment was.