Children of the Program (20 page)

chapter 30

God complex

I returned from the strip club, late.  After talking with Grayson, I sat before the only beacon of light shining in New Mexico.  I penned lyrics about Ash, and drifted.  Hours passed.  Startled by bright headlights, cascading through the crease in my thick paisley curtains, a new curiosity projected upon the wall behind my mounted television set.  I uncurled, like a lone wolf hiding from the harsh desert winds and slowly allowed the shimmer of a rude awakening to enter my quivering eyelids.  A light rapt on the door lit a match in my belly.  Before sanity could trump intrigue, I answered, never considering why these vampyres had come and were knocking on my hostel door at 4:00 a.m.  They could smell blood. 

              “We're sorry to wake you.” Michelle whispered.

              “It's OK.  I had only drifted.”

              “Dez asked that we bring you to the compound.  We travel by night.  I apologize, but he did ask for us to blindfold you.  Please do not be offended.  He doesn't want to risk our whereabouts, in the event you're dismayed by our way of life.  It's a precaution to protect us both!” 

              “I shouldn't have had those last couple of shots.  I need a few more winks.” 

              “We're total night owls.  Time is relative.  You're welcome to bunk in one of our beds.”  

              “Fair enough.”

              The patchouli scented van hummed Jefferson Airplane's “Somebody to Love.” It all seemed rather ironic.  Here I was, attempting to join a cult, whose entire mission was to stop my fellow Programmers from finding true love and birthing a child, and these wackos were singing along like disenchanted Muppets. 

The van began to feel like a puffy cloud, as phencyclidine filled the open space.  My mind lost track of reality, as my dry mouth wistfully sang along.   The creeping aroma had glazed over my fear of dying.  Catching my slip, I quickly spun my internal compass back on point.  After about 20 minutes, reason avenged my drifting curiosity.  I could sense we were getting close, by the cabin's breaking calm.

              When we arrived, I was lead up a long dirt driveway.  I could hear the crackling fire pit, feel the soul of the group and sense the free-spirited harmony of a crisp desert morning; a world, far from my suburban norms.  There were dozens of crooning campers, awake and blissfully driven by the sounds of Dez's guitar.  Though blinded, I could still hear the passersby rustling and conversing a lazy drivel.  Judging by rhetoric, they seemed to be in their late teens and early twenties.  My captors assured my tepid steps, easing my reflex to fear.  Something about Michelle's soft delivery soothed me.  It was a dangerous serenity.  For a moment, we were trauma bonding, emotionally connected to Dez's mad pangs.  After passing through a gated area and the whispers of tenderfoot guards, we entered a giant storage locker posing as a shelter.  I was escorted down a long hallway and offered sanctuary in a quaint bedroom.  Slowly, the blindfold was removed.  One by one, the accomplices left the room.  Michelle kissed me on the cheek, placing her finger to my lips.

              “I'm sorry.”

              “It's fine.  It was a bit unsettling, but I'm OK.”

              “There are a few things for me to check on, but I'm happy to help you settle.”

              Savvy to her suggestion, I realized that dismissing her advance might be seen as a red flag, even if sleeping with the enemy flew directly in the face of my entire reason for joining the cult —
Ash
!  I slowly removed my shirt and stared into her sparkling eyes.  For a moment, we connected.  As I leaned in to kiss her, she put her soft hands on my shoulders and thwarted my advance.  Again, we locked eyes.  An unspoken and lustful sentiment lingered.

              “I'd be a fool to turn down such an offer,” I said.

              “See you in a bit,” Michelle said.

              Moments later, two girls returned in her place and satisfied my earthly fantasies.  It was a test.  Dez was judging my character and sincerity about Ash.  I'd passed.  So long as I could departmentalize the horrors of his mission, I could relish in the perks.  The girls and I ran the gamut for hours, before passing out and awaking in a locked prison bedroom. 

The cell had its own tales to tell.  The windows were abnormally small, intended to confine a human body and mind.  They were shrouded in a silky black drapery.  When drawn, the sun was blotted from existence.  The walls were covered in newspaper clippings.  By candlelight, I could see stories that documented the group's progress.  Recent news articles shared the wall with conspiracy theory literature, UFO maps and, strangely, bloodstained thumbprints, marked by identifying names.  The floors were covered in a very thin green industrial carpet and lined with a thin layer of plastic.  I could tell the facility was new — only the neighboring walls had been fitted with drywall.  At noon, I was ushered to the pit, to finally meet Dez on his terms. 

              “Cadence, I would like you to welcome Neco to the group.  Should he choose to follow the words of our calling and embrace our mission to cleanse the world, he will be considered our friend and should be treated as so.  He knows much about the government cover-up.  He knows the identities of those who purport to be sent by heaven itself,” said Dez. 

As he continued, I immediately knew what he was selling and what had happened to Simon.  One after another, the cult members welcomed me.  Chills ran up my spine, as I thought about Juno and how zombified his followers had become.  There was no turning back.  The odds were stacked in his favor.  I knew it was do or die.  “Unlike our former guest, Neco genuinely seems abashed by the external threats.  Until I'm given cause, he is to be trusted.  Would you care to speak, Neco?” asked Dez.

              “I'm happy to be here.  I've wandered from coast to coast and have kissed the sun of east and west.  I've tried hiding from my past, but I can no longer cower.  There are those out there who will perpetuate, encourage and have created this new world order Dez has warned you about.  From first-hand experience, I can tell you, they are terrorists to humanity — a danger to us all!”

              Dez was reassured by my message.  People had always avowed my natural gift for persuasion, but when your life is swinging in the balance, you can only hope that their confidence meets your words and your sentiments glide received as a foregone conclusion.

My presence and unification with their vision hurled a burst of provocative energy towards Dez’s blood thirsty wolves.  In 40 days, every filthy detail and damning piece of intelligence passed my sights.  I could deliver the authorities their prize, but had a good reason to bide my time — again,
Ash
!  Withholding tears, I visited Simon's grave, knew the names of Juno's assassins and who their future targets were.  Per Grayson's request, I kept a secret and detailed journal of every moment and disturbing conversation. 

+++

              Max and Michelle were miffed by my quick advance in rank.  Their curiosities were piqued by our mysterious connection, and how quickly they'd been replaced.  To continue to my assent, I offered to unearth Ash and chart the course of her demise.  If she was going to be targeted, I wanted to keep my enemies close and control the plot. 

Scandalous rhetoric elated our fuhrer’s confidence.  Communication outside of the compound became rare.  Aside from the obvious oversight of an iron fist, the desert limited our access to technology.  Knowing my intentions weren't in question, I feared Grayson would soon get suspicious of my absence and attempt to rescue me.  From my vantage point, he was best served tending local news blips and awaiting bodies to surface.

              One cool morning, I emerged from the bunks, early, and found Dez screaming and shaking Crystal's frail body.  Quickly taking cover behind their trailer by Simon's grave, I desperately tried to dial into their conversation, while remaining a specter.  He was confident she was pregnant and insisted she sacrifice their unborn child to God's will.  She knew he wouldn't react well, but was rattled by his irrational intensity.  I wasn't.  After forcefully striking her gut, Crystal picked herself from the ground, grabbed her belly and slunk down the driveway toward the road.  She wept.  From a distance, he continued to cuss and scream at her, but she clammed.

              “I heard what I heard,” I said.  Distracting him, I seized the opportunity.

              “What?” Dez leered, with hesitant suspicion.

              “She can't carry your baby.  I don't know how close the two of you are, but if she gives birth to your child, and she is the one, than this whole thing could be shot.  You're finished –
gone
!  The Cadence needs you.  I can't handle the leadership responsibilities.  They don't trust or adore me like you.  I need you.”  I attempted to sustain his trust. 

              “I'm not sure my heart is capable of creating the kind of child The Council would recognize, Neco.  It was conceived under the pretense of control and my own self-serving lust.  I shouldn't have been so hard on her,” offered Dez.

              “Maybe!  Who do you hold most dear?  The Council didn't elucidate a lot details, as to what that meant.  She very well could be a birther.  Let me go after her.  We can play a little good cop/bad cop.  I'll force her to take ownership of the situation and to terminate the pregnancy.  I can convince her she's being selfish and that everything she has, you provided.  She can't argue with that.  You plucked her from a strip club,” I continued.

              “If you can pull that off, I'll serve you Ash's head on a plate!”

              “Consider it done.”

              Chasing after, I found her leaning upon an old wooden fence by the crossroads.  She remained a brilliant image of serenity, a stark contrast from the fiery eyes of a sociopath.   I didn't have a lot of time to rehearse; again, my tongue would need to be guided by divinity.  As I approached, the wingspan of a beautiful white owl tickled my eardrum.  With a cool gust, my nerves settled.  Though a verbal fumble could be my death sentence, I spoke without caution.

              “Are you OK?”

              Crystal slowly lifted her head from the fence and moved a stream of locks from her lethargic eyes.  “What do you want, Neco?  Did he send you down here to talk me into an abortion or to kick dirt upon my worthless body?” she asked.

              “No.  I just wanted to know if you knew your options and might like to talk to someone.”

              “I've been toting his temperamental baby around for more months than I can count.  You can't hide from being pregnant, forever.  Even loose-fitting hippie clothing have their limitations.  He was bound to find out.  Not a day has passed, where I haven't considered my options.  I just hoped...” furthered Crystal.

              “You just hoped a child would simmer his growl and draw your distancing hearts together?”

              “Yes!” She cried.

              “What do you think is going to happen if you don't have the abortion?”

              “He will kill me.  There is no leaving the Cadence!”

              “That's exactly what he'll do.  He killed Simon and Juno and wants to kill my ex-lover, Ash.  He's threatening to kill any child he finds on the Internet that doesn't pass his sniff test.  Is any of this making sense to you?”  She looked to me with a puzzled hope.  Again, the white owl had graced my tongue with eloquence.  “I'm risking my life by even talking to you.  You're right, Dez sent me down here to talk you into killing your child.  I need to know that I can trust you, too.  Otherwise, I'm Simon and you're Juno, capiche?”

              “You can trust me,” said Crystal.

              “Do you want this baby?”

              “Of course.  I wouldn't have carried it for this long, had I not.”

              “You're going to have to listen to me.  There is no time for you to doubt me.”

              Time reeled forward like a time-lapse video.  My words tripped over the anxiety of each moment.  After 10 minutes of purging the detailed specifics of our past and entrusting her with the new password to our website, I seized a moment to breathe.  Her access to the site would prove Dez was a cranky fraud, far from the glamorized midnight cowboy he claimed to be; a mere wolf, hiding his vicious teeth from the hypnotized sheep fluffing his revolution.  With or without evidence, she knew she needed to get as far from the compound as possible and have their baby.

              “How else would he know about Simon, Juno or myself?  We're not exactly locals.”

              “I hadn’t had time to question it.  Even the smallest of inquiries would ignite the inferno attached to his mouth.  It seemed best to avoid poking the bear with realism.  I didn't want to risk sharing a plot with Simon.  There were times I thought about running, but he casts a long lasso.  If not me, he'd kill the people I care about.  He didn't have to say it.  I knew,” said Crystal.

              “If you have his baby, and his baby is truly what I believe it'll be, you'll save our very existence.  He wants to be a God.  All of his brainwashed lemmings will face an unimaginable afterlife in the underworld.  It's gruesome.  If living in his shadow scares you, imagine the fire.  It's real.  You have to rise up and take ownership of the situation!  If anything, save yourself.”