Ghostland (36 page)

A chorus of “Amen!” met his words

He lifted his arms and pointed toward Oakland. “And He said, ‘Go into the world and preach the Gospel to every creature. Those who believe and are baptized will be saved. Those that don’t believe will be damned. And
these signs will follow
them that believe.

“ ‘In My name they will cast out devils.

“ ‘They will speak with new tongues.

“ ‘They will take up serpents—’ ”

The preacher opened the closest box and reached in without looking. He pulled out a heavy-bodied rattlesnake.

“ ‘And if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them.

“ ‘They will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.’ ”

The preacher reached into a second box, pulled out another rattlesnake, this one green and gray, long and thin.

He raised his arms, holding both of the snakes so the rattles ended up next to his face like beaded hair. “And they went forth and preached everywhere, the Lord working with them and confirming the Word with signs following. Amen!”

“Amen!” the congregation shouted, and a woman started playing a drum, its beat commanding, pulsing through air and earth alike, demanding movement.

Men and women danced, some in place, some toward the altar and the fires the two small boys were tending next to it. An older man reached the preacher and was handed a snake. He draped it around his neck, then opened a box and pulled out another one, holding it to his chest before offering it to a girl who looked sixteen.

The smell of burning flesh reached Aisling. She looked in horror at a teen standing next to a fire, his face a mask of spiritual ecstasy as he held a branding iron against his chest. When he lifted it, he wore the sign of the cross.

Others, some with brands, some without, joined him. And as Aisling’s attention shifted between the two fires, the small boys reheated the irons then offered them to any who came. And lost in faith, or held by it, no one screamed as their flesh burned.

When she finally turned away from the sight, Aisling saw all the boxes open. Men and women both, old and young alike, passed snakes around, handled them. And the rattle of the snakes blended in perfect harmony with the throb of the drum.

A woman in the congregation stood and began prophesying. An older man fell to the ground, writhed, then began speaking in tongues.

Aisling shivered, unable to turn away from the scene. It was equally fascinating and repelling, horrifying and amazing. And for the first time she fully understood how mighty civilizations and the world as it once was had come to be destroyed because of religion.

Slowly the energy and ecstasy of the worship service faded, controlled by the slowing, softening beat of the drum. The snakes were returned to their boxes, and the peopled gathered close, surrounded the preacher for a final prayer, one said in low, murmured tones that didn’t reach beyond the circle of church members.

When it ended, the women and girls went directly to the picnic tables—all except for the drummer. She moved to the preacher’s side.

Wicker picnic baskets were pulled from underneath the tables. Plates and silverware, tablecloths and finally dishes of food were laid out.

Movement at the end of the clearing drew Aisling’s eye. Zurael murmured, “There’s the child.”

The little girl was subdued where the children not being carried by young teens were already tumbling toward the adults and the food like eager puppies. And as if the children’s appearance was the sign to begin the meal, the men still at the altar picked up the snake boxes and went to the picnic tables.

The boxes were set on the ground, on benches, on the tables, as if they were hymn books set aside after the worship service. The rattle of the snakes slowly faded, giving way to the sound of conversation and laughter as people took their seats and began to eat.

Aisling’s stomach clenched painfully. Her mouth watered.

She turned to look at Zurael, her eyes catching on the serpent tattoo coiling around his forearm before lifting to meet his eyes. Hunger or insightful observation, the words came from nowhere. “If I go alone, with you in a snake’s form, they might welcome us with less suspicion and talk more freely in front of us.”

Denial flashed in Zurael’s eyes. His features tightened.

Aisling touched her fingertips to his lips with a confidence that once would have been foreign to her. “Don’t say no. This is the best way. Let them think I’m one of them, someone whose faith is marked by a sign they believe in.”

His hand lifted to become a fiery shackle around her wrist. A violent storm raged in his eyes, only yielding to the calm of deadly promise. He pulled her fingers from where they touched his mouth. “We’ll approach the gathering as you suggest. My ability to protect you is limited by the serpent’s form. Be warned, Aisling. Anyone who threatens you will be dead before they strike the ground. I won’t risk your being harmed.”

The fingers around her wrist tightened, then disappeared as he pulled away and became the serpent he’d been the day Elena visited, the day he and Aisling were taken unwilling into the spiritlands by a Ghost touch. She picked him up and draped him over her neck as she’d seen the worshippers do, as she’d once done with Aziel when he wore the body of a king snake.

Worry for Aziel distracted her. She stumbled, sending a covey of quail flying from cover with the noise she made.

Aisling forced herself to concentrate on the moment, on the task at hand. It was easy enough to rejoin the trail. Far harder to leave the shelter and protection of the forest.

Her heart raced in her chest. She knew that in the serpent’s form, Zurael would taste her fear.

Whether it was the eruption of the quail or simply a testament to how alert they were to their surroundings, despite the ease in which they were gathered around the picnic tables, all eyes seemed to be on her the moment she stepped into the clearing.

The preacher rose from the table, as did the woman drummer. Both came forward to greet her with smooth confidence, the force of their personalities reaching her before they did.

“Welcome. I’m Brother Edom and this is my wife, Sister Elisheba.”

The preacher’s voice was the warmth of home, the promise of family and safety. His eyes were a father’s, a brother’s, seeing past the sin to the good that lay beneath and offering forgiveness, understanding.

“Come, join us for the meal,” his wife said in lyrical tones, her eyes soft, offering a mother’s love, a sister’s friendship. “What should we call you?”

Their charisma was nearly overwhelming. It pressed against Aisling’s psyche as if seeking hollow places to fill and gain anchorage in.

Her fingers curled unconsciously around the hidden fetish pouch. And with a suddenness that left her swaying slightly, she was free of Edom and Elisheba’s subtle influence.

Aisling looked down at the ground, hoping they saw success in her unsteadiness, instead of failure. “Call me Aisling,” she said in a whisper.

“You look tired and hungry, worn from your trials,” Elisheba said. “Let us wash your feet and welcome you properly.”

“No,” Aisling said, deciding it was best not to let them pull her too deeply into their world. “I can’t stay.”

She dared to lift her face and meet their eyes again. In them she saw pity and regret, gentle understanding and infinite patience. But unlike before, she didn’t feel buffeted by emotions.

“We understand,” Edom said. “For some it takes time to believe and accept that God offers a taste of paradise on Earth for those who do His work. Come share a meal and fellowship with us.”

Aisling followed them to the picnic tables and was introduced. A place to the left of Elisheba was rapidly cleared for her, though when the others retook their seats, they noted Zurael’s presence and didn’t sit within striking distance.

A plate loaded with sliced pork was set near Aisling. Her stomach growled so loudly that heat flashed to her cheeks. But the people around her laughed with good humor and pushed other food in her direction.

She ate, though after the first few bites Zurael’s weight draped over her neck grew heavier and her conscience made the food lose some of its taste. She hated the thought of him being hungry in the midst of such a feast, but consoled herself with the knowledge he could hunt later or find the Fellowship kitchen and slip into it unseen.

When the meal was finished, young girls collected the plates while older ones served dessert. Boys of all ages stood, drifting closer to the table where she sat, apparently drawn by Zurael.

“He looks poisonous,” one of them said, his gaze riveted on Zurael.

“I think he might be,” Aisling said and there were appreciative murmurs from the boys when Zurael opened his mouth to reveal deadly fangs. “He was at the edge of the clearing. I picked him up after witnessing the worship service.”

Several of the boys nodded.

Edom said, “The Spirit came on you, Aisling. It pulled you through a doorway and into fellowship—not just for your sake, but for ours!”

“Amen!” the people within hearing range said.

“It sent you as testament to The Word,” Edom said.

“Tell us more,” came the refrain.

“God is a living god,” Edom said. “He’s a spirit. He doesn’t have a body. Except us. We’re his body.”

“Amen!”

“We’re his hands and his mouth. We’re his way into this world!”

“Amen!”

“Amen!” Edom said, leaving a pulsing, energy-filled silence that Aisling filled by asking, “Is that why you make and sell Ghost? So people will be open to The Spirit?”

She thought they’d be defensive, frightened that she knew about Ghost. But her question was greeted by smiles of understanding and nods of encouragement, by murmurs of “Welcome, Sister.”

Their reaction confused her. It made the knot in her stomach grow heavy and cold. Her conscience shuddered and her soul recoiled at the thought of overseeing the slaughter of people who seemed strangely innocent, unaware of the devastation that would one day be unleashed because of their beliefs.

Edom leaned forward, eyes shining with the fervor of his faith. “Today isn’t the first time The Spirit has come on you, is it? It came knocking when you were in one of those places of sin in the city—places with names advertising their wickedness.

“Lust! Greed! Envy! Those are just a few of the clubs people flock to, trying to fill an emptiness that can only be filled by Him!

“Don’t worry, Sister, we’re all sinners. We’ve all got things in our pasts, deeds and thoughts we’re ashamed of.

“You’re not the first person to seek pleasure using the stuff people have taken to calling Ghost. You’re not the only one to end up confronting the ugliness, the evil that’s slipped into your life while you weren’t watching. You’re not the first person to make a pilgrimage from the city looking for redemption, answering the call.

“Well, you’ve found Him and you’ve found us. Amen!”

“Amen!” came the refrain, thundering through Aisling like a death knell.

“So you make Ghost?” she asked again, needing to be sure but dreading hearing them admit it.

Edom’s frown told her the question was unexpected, unwelcome after the passion of his words.

Elisheba covered his hand with hers and gave Aisling a small, knowing smile. “I’ve heard some become addicted to Ghost because it leads to unparalleled physical ecstasy. But once you’ve known true spiritual rapture, Aisling, you won’t crave Ghost anymore.

“None of the Fellowship members use drugs. They’re high on God and the life he’s brought them to. We don’t make drugs here. We take a small amount of money in exchange for distributing Ghost. And we sell it only in the red zone, where those who buy it might find salvation instead of damnation.”

“Do you really see it as only a drug?” Aisling asked, her voice edged with both horror and disbelief.

Faces closed. Friendliness disappeared. Eyes darted back and forth between her and the preacher and his wife.

A toddler wobbled over and stood between him and Elisheba. “Up, Mommy!” the little girl said, and some of the smiles around the table reappeared briefly.

Edom measured his congregation. His expression grew somber and pensive, the charisma folding in on him, making him seem thoughtful, a man not afraid of searching for and confronting the truth.

“What do you mean?” he asked and Aisling wondered if some of the Fellowship members were opposed to selling Ghost, if maybe they weren’t only sheep after all.

She gathered her thoughts. Chose the words and arguments that would ultimately lead them to tell her who they distributed Ghost for.

“You spoke about The Spirit coming on a person, knocking and opening a doorway to redemption and salvation.”

Aisling paused and from somewhere behind her the space was filled by a soft “Amen.”

“Well, Ghost can serve that purpose. I’m taking it on
your
faith. It can bring the light.”

Brother Edom nodded. “Amen. It can bring the light.”

“But I know for certain it can bring the darkness. It can open the door and let evil in. I’ve seen it myself.”

“Tell us about it!”

Aisling held back a smile. She felt a rhythm settling in, understood the addictive power of the word.

“What Brother Edom said was right. I was in a place of sin. A place that boasted of it in the name it goes by.”

“We’ve been there, Sister.”

“Brother Edom was wrong when he said I was using Ghost. I wasn’t. But there were men who were.

“Men who bought it from one of you. Who rubbed it on themselves and ate it. Who found the pleasure Sister Elisheba spoke of and became an obscene show for others in that place.”

“Tell us more!”

“I was there when an evil presence swept into the room like an icy wind. I witnessed as it called others to join it and they moved on the men, slid into them like a hand goes into a glove.”