Obsession (27 page)

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Authors: Sharon Buchbinder

Tags: #fantasy, #Contemporary, #Suspense

BOOK: Obsession
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Sister Teresa shouted a blessing in Spanish, then in English. “May God bring everyone home safely.” She turned to Alejandro. “Even the worst person has the breath of the Lord in him.” She nodded in Isabel’s direction. “Or her. God be with all of you.”

Angie squeezed his hand. “I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

The thought of her at his side encouraged and terrified him. If anything happened to Angie or Jake, he’d never forgive himself. He had to protect her and her child, at all costs. Tio had made it clear on several occasions that he wanted Angie. He was certain the giant had overheard him confess his love to Angie. The big man acted as if they were buddies, but information was power, and Tio was relentless when he wanted something or someone.

“I know.” He pulled on his helmet. “Let’s ride.”

He snapped the visor in place and turned the key in the ignition. At his signal, two dozen ATVs and MUVs roared into life. The noise prevented any conversation. As the MUV jounced over the rocks, the moonlight revealed a gnarly trail pocked with holes, boulders, and pine trees. Even with shock absorbers on the vehicles, when this run was over they’d all be two inches shorter. He knew the lookouts for the cult would hear their arrival. He hoped the sound of a thousand giant lawnmowers in the night would make it seem as if they had three thousand men, rather than just three dozen—to strike fear into their hearts. If they had any sense, they’d hand over the girls and the baby. But based on what he knew of these zealots so far, he doubted that would ever happen. Right now, he had to focus on getting there and put the pedal to the metal.

****

As the night sky changed from black to light gray striped with rosebud pink, Angie clung to the side of the vehicle and thought about her son. He’d been just a year old when he’d been snatched out of her life. Now he was fifteen months old, a toddler. How big was he? Were his eyes still green, or had they turned brown like the pediatrician had predicted? Was he eating solid food? Was he healthy? Would he recognize her? The thought of him not knowing her made her chest hurt. Bad enough her parents had stolen him from her. But if they had also stolen his memories, she would kill them with her own hands. She wanted to confront them both, force them to admit all the horrors they’d thrust upon her. The litany was a long one—isolating her on the farm, not allowing her to have friends outside of the cult, killing Janice. Her father had stolen her innocence; her mother had stolen her trust. The beatings and starvation were nothing compared to the sexual and emotional abuse she had endured. Stealing her son, not once, but twice, had been the crowning blow.

Angie wanted to force them to confess their sins and to beg her forgiveness. She would be the judge and jury. If they threw themselves at her mercy, then maybe, just maybe she might consider telling Alejandro to spare their lives. She shook her head and ordered herself to stop obsessing. She’d deal with it when and if the time came. She had other worries. Like Tio.

Why had he followed Alejandro and her to the stream? She wondered how much he had heard. She knew the big man had the hots for her. She’d seen it in his eyes the first time she’d met him. Unlike Alejandro, Tio had stared at her exposed breasts that day in the police station. Every time she ran into him, he gazed at her tits as if they were still bare. After the incident on the shooting range, he’d come up behind her in the hallway, grabbed her by the waist, and pushed his erection into her butt. Then he’d whispered to her that he wanted to suck on her nipples like lollipops. She’d avoided being alone with him after that, but Angie still felt naked when she was around him.

Despite being very direct with Tio, he had never stopped hinting that that he wanted to have sex with her anytime, anywhere. She needed the big man’s help, didn’t want to piss him off, but if he heard her confessions about her addictions, he’d be sure to use that against her. She shuddered. The thought of him touching her made her want to take a bath. He was dangerous and persistent. If Tio got to Jake before they did, he might use the child as a bargaining chip. He knew she’d do anything, including having sex with him, to save her child’s life and get him back safely.

Just then gravel and clods of dirt flew up around the MUV. Alejandro struggled to keep control of the vehicle and managed to get it behind a large outcropping of rocks. The sudden silence in the desert night was deafening. Angie strained to hear something, anything.

A spray of bullets hit the boulder closest to them raining rocks down on their helmets.

They were under fire.

And at least a mile away from the base of the mountain.

Chapter Twenty-One

Miriam walked behind Zeke into the bedroom and slammed the door. He whirled and gaped at her. The last time she’d seen that look on his face was right after she beat Janice to death with a shovel. Good. The handgun in her pocket, while not as satisfying a tool as a shovel, would take care of this matter—just as soon as he announced his mistake.

She spoke through clenched teeth, tried to keep her voice low so the hard of hearing Sister Rose and the sleeping child wouldn’t wake up.

“How dare you anoint Aaron as your successor?”

Zeke’s eyes darted around the room. “He’s a good man. Smart. People look up to him.”

“He’s a traitor. You said so yourself.”

“He didn’t drug me. He and his wife were locked up the last time I had a strange vision.” Zeke looked abashed. “I was wrong to accuse him.”

“That’s not the only thing you’re wrong about.” Deep in the folds of her skirt, the pistol felt warm and reassuring. One shot. That was all she needed. “Did you forget you promised to make me the next leader?”

He shook his head. “Miriam, please. Don’t be silly.”

“Silly? You think I’m silly?” She sneered. “Who’s the man who runs away screaming and crying like a baby when I serve him fresh women on a silver platter?”

“That’s not fair.” Color rose in his face. “Someone drugged me.”

“There aren’t any drugs.” She took two steps closer to him. “Whatever decisions you make are the ravings of a madman.”

“You go too far. You’re a woman, the weaker vessel. No man would ever follow you.” He raised his fist. “You need to be taught a lesson.”

Shaking with rage, she yanked the weapon out of her pocket, locked both hands around the grip, and pointed it straight at his chest.

“You like this decision, old man? I made it all by myself.”

Ashen-faced, he stared at the pistol.

“Surprised? You shouldn’t be. You told the head of security to arm everyone so they could fight the heathens.”

“Miriam.” Perspiration gleamed on his forehead. “Don’t do this.”

The smell of acrid sweat filled the small space. He really was afraid of her.
Good
. He’d made her beg for mercy for so many years, it was about time he had the pleasure.

“Get on your knees.”

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me.” She poked him with the gun. “Grovel. Beg for my forgiveness.”

He knelt and clasped his hands.

“I beg of you. Don’t shoot me.”

She chuckled. “Don’t worry. First you’re going to tell everyone you made a mistake. What was the word you used? Oh, yes. You were
wrong
.”

He sniffled and tears ran down his wrinkled cheeks.

“You think you may have Alzheimer’s. Your judgment is impaired. Brother Aaron isn’t the heir to your big throne. It’s your wonderful wife and help-mate, the woman who knows everything about the congregation.”

He bowed his head and sighed. “Yes, I will do it. But—”

“But what?”

“Didn’t you hear the gunshots? I came down here to make sure you and the baby were safe.”

“You came down here to hide. You’re good at that.” She pointed at the door with the gun. “Okay, fine. Get up.”

He struggled to his feet. She backed up and opened the bedroom door.

“Before you die, you still have some work to do.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t, you poor demented creature.” She poked him in the back with the gun. “Keep walking, straight ahead.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out.”

He stumbled along the corridor and whined. “I don’t understand.”

Gun covered by the voluminous folds of her skirt, Miriam prodded him forward at each hesitation. Overhead, it sounded like firecrackers going off at a fourth of July picnic. At last, they arrived at the Crèche. Brother John, former pilot, eunuch, and Guardian of the Twenty-Four sat on a hard-backed chair in front of the door, a rifle across his lap.

He leaped to his feet. “Father. What is the news?”

Miriam poked her husband in the back with the handgun. “Tell him how well we’re doing.”

“It is End Days.”

The man’s face fell. “What should I do?”

Miriam spoke up. “Father needs to spend some private time with the Mothers of the Twenty Four to prepare the future generation.”

Brother John nodded and turned to unlock the door. “Sacrifices must be made.”

Zeke jerked around and stared at Miriam, his eyes wild with panic.

“Don’t worry, Father. They’re expecting you. Each of the girls has met and held the Chosen One. They adore him. They understand how important they are to God’s plan.”

Keeping one hand clenched around the pistol, she used her free hand to pull his head toward her lips.

“Time for the rooster to visit the henhouse.”

Miriam pushed him through the door and slammed it behind him. Now she had him where she wanted him. She didn’t need Zeke to dispose of Brother Aaron. She could do it herself.

“Lock the door, Brother John.”

The bald man complied and turned around.

“Give me the key.”

Frowning, he dropped it into the palm of her hand. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to.”

At last her time had come.

“Don’t let Father out, no matter what he says. It’s for his own good.”

****

The solid pine door slammed behind Zeke, and he had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. It was the first time he’d ever been in the Crèche. Miriam had attended to all the details.

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and gagged. The room smelled like a latrine. A white bucket stood in the corner with a toilet seat on top. A roll of tissue and a bag of lime sat on the floor next to it. A dozen beds jammed one against the other along one wall. Along the other wall stood a basin, and a metal pitcher. A nearby table held a stack of towels. The girls wore long white nightgowns and huddled in the back of the room, their brown eyes wide.

He raised his hands to show his palms were empty. “
Hola
. I’ve come to say hello.”

The largest girl spat at him and said something in Spanish. It sounded like a string of curse words, but then again, he could have been mistaken. Foreign languages had never been his forte.

He recognized the one who had turned into a demon. Daniella. She looked lovely, with that long brown hair, those beautiful teeth. Maybe Miriam was right, it was time for him to pay a conjugal visit.

“Daniella.” He crooked his finger. “Come here.
Aquí
.”

The teenage shook her head. The big one stepped in front of Daniella, crossed her arms over her chest, and lifted her chin.

Was that the one whose father had shown up without warning?

“Mina.” He waved her over.

She shook her head.

“You little bitch.” He strode over to her and grabbed her by the arm. “I tell you to get over here, you come.”

He threw her on a bed and she fell with her knees on the floor, her face on the blanket.

“I like you better that way.” He unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers. He reached for her nightgown, and a chorus of screams rose, took shape and swarmed over his head.

Bats, a thousand of them, dove at him, ripping his hair, and clawing at his face.

He stumbled, and Mina rolled over onto her back.

No longer a beautiful young woman, green scales covered her skin and her fingers tapered into talons. Yellow serpentine eyes bulged out of her head, and she licked her bright red lips with a long tongue of flames.

“Not again.” He covered his face and shrieked. “Help, Brother John, let me out.”

The chorus of screams became a singsong chant. “He can’t hear you, he can’t hear you.”

Zeke fell to his knees and threw his head back in prayer. “Oh, Lord, hear my plea. I’m Daniel in the Lion’s Den.”

A hag with drooping tits and gray hair cackled. A troll with one eye in its forehead gave a low rumbling guffaw and drooled. A gray demon with black lips and nipples capered and pranced on a nearby bed. The dragon that had been Mina stood over him and showered him with green scales. The bats landed and grew larger, red eyes glowing, high-pitched shrieks bouncing off the stone walls.

He leaped to his feet, and the creatures danced around him in a circle. Wheeling slowly, he tried to gauge which one to grab first. He lunged at the smallest one, a bat with long fangs. Just as he got his hands around its neck, the shrieking grew into a deafening roar and he felt the first of many strikes to his legs, back, ribs. A large claw connected with his groin. He grabbed his balls, fell to the floor, and the world went black.

****

Alejandro zigzagged across the desert floor and pushed Angie behind a boulder. The weight of weapons, ammo, ropes, carabiners, and flashlights made the going slow, but using the ATVs was out of the question. Might as well paint big red targets on the vehicles. He keyed his walkie talkie.

“Tio? Pepe? Isabel? Anybody hear me?”

“Tio here. What’s your location?”

“Angie and I are behind an outcropping of rocks, about a quarter mile southwest of the bluff. We’re close, but no cigar.”

“Stay put. I’ll come to you. Go to radio silence. They might be listening in.”

Crap.
That was an unsettling thought. If the nut jobs tuned into their frequency, they really were in trouble. He turned his walkie talkie off.

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