The Dark Light (25 page)

‘Where are you going?!’

‘To the church! Mr Bevins said I could come. I thought you’d come to get me.’

I run back towards her. ‘Alex!’ I turn her towards me, but she’s not really looking at me. She’s got the same kind of face as the others, like something in her mind has been switched off. Like
she
has been switched off.

‘Alex! What’s happened to you?’

‘I’ve seen the light, Rebekah! I’m going to go to heaven just like everybody else. I got rid of the evil eye!’

She points to the bandage on her ankle. I can’t think what’s underneath it, what she’s done to the tattoo. There’s a circle of blood soaked through, caked into a dark red crust.

‘But . . .’
I can’t do this without you
. My motivation sinks through my shoes. Maybe it was a bad plan, maybe I should just accept that Mr Bevins is right. But as I think that I remember my mother, and a molten anger fills my veins. Inside my head is a voice that pulses like my heartbeat and shouts louder than anything else – Hurry! Hurry!

But I need Alex with me. I try to give her a hug, but she pushes me away.

‘Get off! I’m not like that any more!’

‘Like what?’

‘Like disgusting.’ And her mouth twists out of shape, the thoughts in her mind mapped out on her face. Tears sting the corners of my eyes.

But I love you
, I want to say. But I don’t think it will make any difference.

‘Well, you can stay here then!’ I shout. ‘I’m going to get help.’

I follow the path, quickly now. My breath in short bursts. I can’t believe they have turned her! In the dusk I can just make out the outline of the land against the sea and the boathouse. The path becomes more solid and I start to hurry again. They must be missing me by now. There’s a crackle in the hedgerow and I turn and shine the torch, but there’s no one there.

The door to the boathouse is open. I enter into the darkness, and see the boat still on its trailer. I kick away the blocks from the wheels, meaning to pull the trailer out on to the harbour wall, although I’m not sure how I’m actually going to get the boat in the water. The tide is low, the tideline fringed with a slick of seaweed that lies about like treacherous hair. I can’t just push the boat in – it will get broken on the rocks.

I undo the tarpaulin that covers it and throw my bag into the hull, and that’s when I see the biggest problem in my plan: at the bottom of the boat is a huge jagged hole. Splinters of wood lie on the floor all around. It looks like someone did it with a hammer, viciously, recently.

I stare at it, not quite understanding. ‘But . . . how . . . ?’ Tears of frustration and realization catch in my throat. I look around wildly for tools, materials, something to fix the boat, knowing it is futile. Energy and hope evaporate. I can’t bear it.

‘There you are.’ The voice that speaks is loud and close. I flinch. Thomas Bragg’s face appears in the doorway. It takes me a moment to realize that he’s holding the shotgun. ‘Don’t move,’ he says.

‘Thomas!’ I wonder how he knew that I was here. Did he follow me?

‘Don’t move!’

I slowly raise my hands. ‘OK,’ I say. ‘It’s OK.’

He nods but keeps the gun trained on me. Would he actually shoot me?

‘Thomas! You can’t do this! What about the commandment? Thou shalt not kill. You’ll go to hell! You won’t be Raptured!’ My voice sounds wheedling, hopeless. I stand up slowly. I have known him since he was a child; he was never this mean or this devout.

‘Step away from me!’ he says, then very quickly points the gun at the ceiling and shoots. There’s a flash and a bang and a loud ricochet, and splinters of wood fall from the ceiling. ‘Believe me, I
will
kill you. Bevins says I won’t go to hell, because
you
are sent from the realms of Satan and must be contained.’ He jabs the gun at me again. ‘You’re not real! You’re a shadow, filled with the devil. If I shot you now, you wouldn’t bleed, you’d turn to dust.’

‘Thomas! It’s
me
! Rebekah! What are you talking about?’

‘The devil. She passed it on to you. It jumped from her to you. Except you can’t feel it. No one that is infected with sin can feel it. Not till it’s too late.’

‘He’s right.’ Alex appears in the doorway. I look at her. What is she doing here with Thomas? ‘I had the demon, but it went into her.’

‘See!’ He turns to me. ‘Bevins said you’d been duped. He was right. But we are here! Warriors in Christ! Bevins will protect us because he has come to take us home.’

I look at Alex. She’s not serious, surely. I bow my head. It’s like someone has removed her brain.

‘Alex! It’s not true! It’s just Mr Bevins talking!’ But her eyes seem to look right through me. ‘Alex! What has he
done
to you?’

‘He’s set me free,’ she says.

Thomas comes close with the gun and jabs it close to my face. I stare at Alex, expecting her to laugh or wink at me, something, anything, a signal that she’s still there inside.

‘It’s going to be OK,’ I whisper. ‘I know you’re just going along with him.’

But she ignores me like I’m irrelevant and turns to Thomas. ‘Come on, we’ve got to get back.’

‘Alex!’ I can’t believe she’s going along with all this.

Thomas motions at me with the gun. ‘Walk!’ he says, forcing me out of the boathouse and on to the path, back towards the farm.

He takes the torch from me and holds it, lighting our way, but I stumble.

‘Do you really think that the Rapture is going to come tonight the way Bevins says?’ I ask him. ‘Don’t you think he’s mad?’

‘Don’t talk!’ Thomas comes up behind me, prodding me in the back with the gun.

I drag my heels as we walk the path from the church, where the lights of the perpetual candles keep a dim glow shining through the windows. I wish it was possible to stop the clock so that there never would be another hour or another day.

TWENTY-FIVE

REBEKAH

When we get to the farmhouse everyone is already in the field stood around the fire. They are wearing the robes that Hannah and Margaret have made.

Bevins is standing on a hay bale, reading something from the Book of Revelation. He pauses when he sees us, but does not stop until we are close.

‘At last, we are all here!’ He claps his hands together. ‘You know what it says: “Joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth.” Well, here she is!’

I think he is speaking about me, but he walks right past me and embraces Alex. He holds her hand and lifts it to the sky. ‘It’s as I saw it, the sinner come to repent in the final hours.’

‘Thank you,’ Alex says quietly. ‘Thank you. All of you.’ She doesn’t look at me.

‘Praise God!’ says Hannah.

‘Of course there were those who were trying to thwart us,’ he says, looking at me and shaking his head. ‘But I have eyes and ears
everywhere
.’ He sounds as if he is about to cry, but sucks it back in through his teeth.

Hannah shakes her head and tuts. Of course it was her. Snitching. Trying to gain favour. She must have been spying on me and Mary.

I look for Mary in the crowd. She is standing at the back with the boys. When I catch her eye she looks away, but in the light of the lanterns I can see the sparkle of tears.

‘You thought you could leave and betray our birthright! Spoil what God had given us! But I know who you are! You who would betray us! But I am stronger than he who would destroy us. By the grace of God in me, you will not prevail! He sees everyone and everything!’

He pulls me roughly, and I wince. ‘Let me go!’ And for one moment I think he means throw me on to the pyre, but instead he drags me away and shoves me next to Margaret.

‘You will repent when you see the face of your God! More terrifying and more glorious than anything you could ever imagine! I have seen it!’ He’s spitting at me now and he has that look in his eye that makes my stomach lurch in fear. I just stare at the ground. ‘And then you will be left behind! That’s when your suffering will start. Doubter! Liar! Who are you to think you can change the course of our destiny!’

He gives me one of the white robes. The square of cloth is rigid after the washing and it hangs stiffly like it is made of cardboard. Everyone is wearing one now.

Then he makes us stand in front of the pyre and recite a long and slow Lord’s Prayer. It reeks of petrol, which makes me nauseous; the dead sheep and goats are shrunken now, and many have had their eyes pecked out by the birds. I try to hold my breath. I wonder where they got the petrol from – Bevins said we didn’t have enough to run the generator. In the middle, penned in, are the live animals, scrabbling about and bleating.

When we are finished Bevins looks up. ‘Time!’ he shouts, turning to Jonathan, who holds a digital wristwatch close to his face, squinting in the dim light.

‘Seventeen minutes past eleven!’

‘Less than one hour!’ Bevins says. ‘Thanks to
my
guidance,
my
prophecy, we are here today ready to be Raptured! Light the offering!’

He nods at Father, who strikes a taper and throws it into the centre of the pyre which ignites in a whoosh, and the fire is suddenly blindingly ablaze. The livestock panic, try to clamber over each other, but they can’t escape and soon they succumb to the heat and the flames. I can’t watch. Everyone steps back, the flames are so loud and close and hot. Steam rises from the carcasses of the dead sheep, their wool heavy and oily, belching out a thick smoke which swirls around us, making me cough. A breeze catches the flames and sends a flare out towards the edge of the field. Hannah squeals and jumps back; her robe has caught fire on the hem. Quickly she rips it off and stamps on it.

‘He’s here.’

Bevins looks towards the sky, hands raised. Against the fierce light of the fire he appears as a shadow, hair blowing across his face like strands of wool caught in the hawthorn. ‘He’s coming for His children.’

He passes around the cup from which we must all drink, the murky wine that he says means we are now cleansed and ready to take our steps into the next world that waits for us. I take a sip, but this time don’t swallow. It tastes like sweet mud, it makes me want to retch. I hold it in my mouth and when he has moved on down the line I dribble it out on the sleeve of my dress, letting the liquid soak into the material. I look at Alex. She is swaying on her feet, too close to the fire muttering to herself.

‘I can hear trumpets!’ Hannah says. ‘The voices of the angels!’

‘He’s with us now!’ Mr Bevins says. ‘Brothers, Sister, come with me. It will be as if you have just passed through an open door!’

Before me the bonfire crackles and pops.

‘Time, Jonathan!’

‘Ten minutes to midnight,’ Jonathan shouts over the sound of the blazing fire. Sparks rise into the sky and mingle with the stars.

‘Only ten minutes!’ Bevins says, falling on to his knees. ‘So it begins.’

The flames rise higher, a white hot burning that draws in the whole world until it seems like the centre of everything.

Then Bevins breaks out into a chorus of ‘Abide with Me’ and is joined by Hannah and Margaret until everyone is singing. Jonathan has his eyes closed and is reaching his hands towards heaven and for a moment it seems possible that time will be snatched from us, and suddenly we will rise till we are above it all, like the angels. Alex holds her arms above her head.

But it is a long ten minutes that everyone is on their knees waiting, and the wet ground soaks through my dress and makes my knees muddy. The fire rises to its peak and then begins to die back. There is a terrible smell from the burning livestock, and deep in the heart of the fire there is still a heavy core of dead animal flesh which hasn’t burned properly and which throws out an acrid smoke.

Jonathan checks his watch. ‘Pastor, Mr Bevins, it is the hour,’ he says.

I hold my breath.

Nothing.

Hannah repeats, ‘Come, Lord Jesus,’ over and over again, and Naomi wails, speaking loudly in tongues until Bevins turns and glares at her.

‘Shut up, woman!’ he barks. ‘You’re not helping to hasten the moment!’

Jonathan keeps staring at his watch, as if he cannot believe that time is still ticking forward. ‘Perhaps my watch is a little fast, like,’ he says, shaking it.

‘Keep praying!’ Bevins roars. ‘Keep
praying
!’

He stands up and makes lifting gestures with his arms, as if he is trying to fan the flames that will take us to heaven.

‘He must listen to us! We are here! We are ready. Oh Lord, come! Take us!’

And as the fire continues to roar and the sky turns slowly above out heads, none disappear or appear to be Raptured. Nothing comes down from heaven. Through the flames I watch the skeleton outline of a goat’s ribcage, before it disintegrates into the embers.

‘Time, Jonathan!’ Bevins roars again.

He fumbles in his pocket. ‘Quarter to one,’ he says.

‘Give me that!’ Bevins snatches the watch from Jonathan and stares at it. ‘This watch is still set to winter time!’ He laughs. ‘How could I doubt Him who loves us?! Even for one second!’

He gives the watch back to Jonathan, hitting him across the chest so that Jonathan winces. ‘Fool!’ he mutters.

He makes Jonathan count down the last ten minutes. Nine, eight, seven six . . . three, two one . . .

And the hour comes and passes, and again nothing.

Bevins is silent then, prostrate before the dwindling fire. No one moves until he stands up and begins mumbling to himself, running his hands through his hair, his face streaked with tears. A few people stand, Mary, Gideon, then Father and Hannah. Alex is on her knees praying as if her life depended on it. I go over to her and touch her on the shoulder. She half opens one eye.

‘Alex. Alex, it’s over, you don’t have to pretend any more!’ I whisper.

She jumps away from me. ‘Get away from me! Liar!’

I flinch away from her. ‘But . . .’

The others are all gathered around Bevins.

‘Don’t take it so hard,’ Father says, embracing him.

‘You are nothing but goodness to us,’ says Hannah, reaching out and Joining their embrace. She holds him close for a long while and he seems to be sobbing in disappointment, until he pushes her away.