Turn or Burn (27 page)

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Authors: Boo Walker

BOOK: Turn or Burn
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They repeated the process several more times, maybe ten more, but I’m not sure. Enough to where I was sure my brain was going to give out, even without drowning.

They did their work well and beat all the fight out of me. The depth of the nightmare became indescribable. I heard screaming and gunshots and IEDs and bodies exploding around me, and I could taste blood and smell death.

So much so that I eventually found myself pleading to them when they jerked the rag from my mouth.

“Fucking kill me,” I said. “End it!”

A little laugh. “I think we’re getting somewhere.”

“I’m sorry, Ted. I’m so sorry. Please kill me.” I’d been broken.

“Sorry. Not yet.”

“What do you want?” I asked.

“For you to become one of us.”

“Who are you?” I asked, and it was barely audible.

No answers. All they kept saying to me was something about paying for my sins, having to learn the difference between good and evil, having to break me, making me one of them.

They finally stopped. They unstrapped my arms and then put my wrists together and cuffed me. A taste of freedom came over me as the other straps binding me to that bench or table were loosened. I suddenly found a little urge to live again.

Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me off the table. I tried to get my feet under me but I fell down hard, my knees crashing into the floor. My eyes were still covered. A man lifted me up and said, “Come with me.”

Not that I had a choice. I followed his lead and walked for a while. He opened a door and pushed me in. I fell to the floor. He closed the door, and I was alone. No more sounds. I lay on my back and breathed for a while. Once I got a grip, I reached up and pushed the blindfold off my eyes. I was in a walk-in closet of sorts with white walls.

I pushed myself up against a wall and took in more breaths, savoring what we so easily take for granted.

CHAPTER 43
Minutes, hours, days later. They’d taken me in and out of that closet several more times, subjecting me to further waterboarding and several beatings. Then, I’d finally drifted off from pain and exhaustion. Finally, some peace.

They’d put fresh, clean clothes on me, though I didn’t remember them doing it. Some very soft cotton beige pants tied at the waist. A white shirt of similar fabric. No shoes. I was clean, too. They must have bathed me. I sat up and felt the pain in my side from where they kicked and punched me. Maybe even hit me with something. I couldn’t remember.

I was now in a bedroom. No windows. The walls were stacked logs, like those of a log cabin. No paint anywhere. The queen bed had clean white sheets. The room was bare, save the slippers waiting for me on the floor and the small bedside table with a book on it. It was the Holy Bible.

I sat up and ignored the slippers as I stood. The room began to spin and I let myself fall back onto the bed. I rubbed my face and a couple minutes later, decided to try again.

Where’s Francesca?
I wondered.

I stumbled to the door. There was no handle. I realized that a bit late as my clumsy hand went to turn it, grasping empty air. I tried to peel the door open by pushing my fingers through the cracks but it was sealed.

I had an urge to beat on the door but held back. They were probably waiting on that. Perhaps I had a few minutes to collect myself. See if I could get out of there. Nothing is truly foolproof. First, I looked for a camera or microphone. Were they watching me? I couldn’t find anything. Come to think of it, it was extremely quiet. No sounds from the outside. Dead silence. I touched the wood of the walls. The more I looked, the clearer it became that I wasn’t getting out of there unless someone opened that door.

I went up to it and hammered on it with my fist. It didn’t make much noise, the wood absorbing my strength. “Hey!” I yelled. “Hey…you want to let me out of here?”

No one answered.

I went back to the bed and sat down. Tried to run this all through my mind…well, my half-mind. How had they known we would go to Abner’s place? Had Wendy told them? How long had they been waiting? What had they done with Francesca?

A click pulled me from my thoughts. Someone opened the door. It was a young, petite Korean woman, dressed similarly to me. She couldn’t have been much more than five feet tall. “Hi. My name is April. I need you to put these on. You can keep your hands in front of you.”

I smiled for the first time in a while. “You think I’m going to put your handcuffs on? You kidding me?” I stood.

“I am not kidding. It is best for you to comply. We removed them so that you could get a good night’s sleep. Now, please. It will make things easier for all of us.”

“Where am I?”

“There are three large armed men outside the door who will be happy to put these on for you.” As she said that, two of the men appeared at the door. “We also have Francesca Daly. You are in no position to disagree with me. You have seen what we are capable of. If you make this difficult, you will only waste your energy and perhaps lead to her harm. We know who you are. We are fully prepared. Now put your hands out, okay?”

“I see why they sent you in. You’re quite convincing.”

She smiled again as she latched the cuffs around my wrists. “Put your shoes on and follow me.”

I nodded, thinking that I was going to have to make a move sooner rather than later but I had no idea what that would be. Hell, I didn’t even know where I was. I limped out the door, past the three men—who were indeed armed and bigger than me—and I followed the woman down a hall. She pushed open a door and rays of sunlight flooded in. She held the door open for me and motioned for me to come.

I limped outside into the cool air and almost into a dream. The drug was swirling through my blood and dragging me down, making it all seem like some sort of twisted fantasy. The setting sun shined through a line of evergreens, lighting up ten to twelve acres of farmland that was cut into a valley of trees surrounded by mountains. I turned and saw the building I’d just walked out of. It was a newly built, one-story log cabin reaching back toward the tree line. There were other cabins, too, lined up like barracks. I could hear the gentle movement of a stream nearby.

On the other side of the farm, there was a larger house—some kind of Victorian—that looked like it had been there long before the other buildings. Past that, there was a dilapidated barn. People were spread about across the field in the center of the property, and it became evident that this was a commune of sorts. A group was sitting in a circle in the grass talking. A little past them, two women were on their knees with trowels working in a well-maintained garden. A boy was playing fetch with a black lab. A couple was strolling through a patch of wildflowers. Near the trees, Elvin, the young man from the cabin, was doing a bad job at chopping some wood. At that rate, he’d be at it all day. Each of them stopped what they were doing and stared at me for a moment before going back to their own business. I’d seen some crazy things in my day, but this place had to top it all. It was a creepy reminder of how strange and delusional people can be, how groupthink can manipulate your mind. They probably thought they were the normal ones.

“Harper,” I heard a man’s voice say.

I turned and saw the man who branded me. Jameson Taylor.

He’d tied a red bandana around his head. “Have you been treated well?” he asked with a slight crack of a smile. The two Dobermans were at his side.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Francesca is safe and resting. We’ll go by and see her later. She’s got a big night tonight. I’m sure you have lots of questions. Follow me and we’ll talk. Someone wants to meet you.”

As he spoke those words, I knew it was him who had been speaking to me while they had me strapped down.

I looked behind me. The woman who’d led me out had disappeared. The three men were still there, though, standing at the door looking at us, making sure I didn’t do anything unacceptable. Truth was, there wasn’t anything I could do. Between the heavy lethargy and confusion still lingering from the tranquilizers, and the fact that my hands were locked up and that I was outnumbered, I had been rendered useless. Besides, they’d beaten all the fight out of me. I was a shadow of the man I’d been days ago, weeks ago, years ago. A picture of human decay.

We took a well-traveled trail leading into the woods. The dogs ran ahead and the armed men followed us, hanging a few feet back. The leaves high up were dripping water from a recent rain. “How did you know where to find us?” I asked.

He grinned. “Wendy Harrill called. Said you’d shaken her up some and that she’d told you Daniel’s name. Wasn’t too hard from there. I knew you’d go to his house. I also had a pretty good feeling you wouldn’t be calling the cops, so we knew it would be a good time to grab you. Even if you had called the cops, we would have just waited until our next opportunity.”

“You know I am going to kill you, right?”

“I don’t see how that is possible, but I am prepared to die.”

“Good. Good.”

We reached a clearing near the stream that I had heard earlier. A man was standing over a wooden table, working. As we drew near, he stopped and turned around.

The man before me turned up one corner of his mouth, recognizing me. “Welcome, Harper.”

I eyed him. “Abner,” I said. He acknowledged my greeting with a widening smile.

CHAPTER 44
Jameson walked away, leaving the two of us standing alone in the woods. Daniel Abner looked very much like a professor, from his slightly long hair to the John Lennon glasses to the hint of beard from his lazy shaving habit. He was a tall guy, maybe six foot three, and was in good shape. His dark brown hair was tucked behind his ears but wasn’t quite long enough for a ponytail.

With two hands, he held up a very ornate cross that he’d been carving. A detailed and clean effort, though I held back my praise. There was a triskelion in the center where the two pieces of wood met. It was identical to the one above my waist.

“I think I’m done,” he said. “Just in time for tonight.”

“Good for you. That makes me really proud. My friend is dead, and now my comrade and I have been kidnapped and locked up by you kooks, and you shove your little hobby in my face like I give a damn. What are you doing, Abner? What do you want with us?”

I could see a hint of rage light up deep behind his blue eyes, and I thought to myself that he’d certainly lost his mind. But he held back like a good man of the cloth. “You got in the way. Both of you did. I can’t have that. You running around all over town trying to figure out what we’re up to. Trying to punish us for killing your friend. That’s absurd. Your friend was a casualty of war. We all know that. You forced us to bring you in. But I’ve realized the two of you have come into our lives for a reason. Now, you are in the process of being saved. I am sorry it is so uncomfortable, but it’s the only way. One day, you’ll look back on all this and thank me. You will have found your way. We may even be friends.”

“That’s why you tortured me? So you could
save
me?”

“That’s why we are and will continue to torture you. Until you are one of us.”

“That will take a long time.”

He nodded his head and sighed. “I’m afraid you’re right. Longer than the others for sure. But in the end, they’ve all come around. You will too.”

“You people are out of your heads.”

“They say such things of all prophets.”

“Prophets…that’s what you call yourselves. What war are you fighting, Abner?”

“All in time. Let’s walk. I’d be happy to answer your questions.” He motioned with his hands. “Please follow me. Humor me for a little while.” He began walking back into the forest, finding another trail. I followed him.

“Are you a man of God?”

“No.”

“That’s a shame. You will be, though. You have the triskelion on your skin now. It’s a mark of continuity and progress and rebirth. But I’m sure you know all this by now. All of those we have marked have come to see the light. You are on their path. Jesus said,
Be thou faithful unto death and I will give thee a crown of life
. It’s not too late for you. Not too late for any of you.”

Turning his head toward me, he changed the subject. “I saw pictures of you before the Singularity Summit at Dr. Sebastian’s house. We figured you were a new member of the team. You almost caught one of my men the first day you showed up. He said you saw him in a neighbor’s window. That would not have been good.”

“Why were you after the doctors?” I asked. “Why did you kill Dr. Kramer?”

“I’ll tell you something now that you will not believe. We didn’t kill Dr. Kramer. We did try to get at Dr. Sebastian at the Summit. That was more of a test run, so to speak. To see how dedicated our new soldiers were. Turned out I was able to trust the women to attempt it, but they still weren’t ready. They failed at their mission. Instead, they killed your friend, Ted, which caused me great problems. You suddenly found a need to get involved. I tried to warn you, too. You had nothing to do with this, and you’ve fought for our country, so I offered you a way out.”

“By blowing up my car?”

“You needed to know I was serious.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t kill Kramer?”

“We had nothing to do with it.” He said it in that kind of prideful, confident way that told me he very well could be telling the truth.

“Who did it then?” I asked, not believing anything he was saying.

“It’s not important.”

“Are we done here?”

We’d taken a loop through the woods and were closer to the main house. The sun had dropped behind the trees and it was cooler now. Toward the middle of the field, in between the house and the cabins where they had tortured me, there was something going on. People were gathering. He asked me to sit in the grass with him and I did so.

“That’s my home,” he said, pointing toward the white Victorian. A cylindrical tower on the left side reached well past the rest of the roof. “We’ve been here a long time. We used to all try to cram into the house but eventually we outgrew the house and the barn. That’s why we built cabins like the one you were in. It’s really a healing kind of place.” He sighed. “So this is us…The Soldiers of the Second Coming.”

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