Righteous03 - The Wicked (23 page)

Miriam burst out of the house, almost colliding with Abraham, headed the other direction. This time she did have a gun. She and Jacob started down the stairs from the porch and David came after them. Jacob held out his hand. “Sit down, you’re too weak.”

“No, I’m not. I feel fine, and I’m coming.” He felt stronger than he had in years. Even the aching ribs had stopped complaining.

The three of them made their way down the crushed stone path toward the shed. As they approached, flames licked the edges and climbed the door. He smelled burning gasoline, which explained why the fire was spreading so quickly. At the house itself, the end of the porch was on fire and there was a second, even larger fire around back. But lights were already flipping on throughout the house and he heard the shouts of women and children. The people, at least, would be okay. David started toward the shed.

Jacob grabbed him. “It’s just tools and junk, it can burn. We need to find the firebug before he burns down the whole town.”

But he wasn’t sure. Why light a small outbuilding on fire? As Jacob and Miriam—one armed with a flashlight, the other a gun—searched in the direction of the greenhouses, David continued toward the shed. The whole side was on fire now, and it had reached the shingle roof. He could see a latch up high on the door, but there was no way to reach it through the fire.

He got as close as he dared. “Is anyone in there? Hello?”

No answer. That feeling must have been wrong. David turned to catch up with the others.

And then, so quiet that he had to listen carefully to be sure over the crackling, smoking fire, he thought he heard a sob, like a small child. A moment later, another sob. A hot lump of fear lodged itself in David’s gut.

“Jacob!” he shouted. “There’s a child in here.”

The other two came running. David took off his shirt, wrapped it around his good hand and tried to get to the latch, but the fire was too hot and forced him to retreat.

“Around here!” Miriam cried. “There’s a back window.”

The two men followed her to the back side of the shed. There was a small window at chest height and David pushed the others away so he could smash at it with his shirt-wrapped hand. Together, they pulled away the shards of glass and then David leaned halfway in to see who it was.

It was dark inside, but the fire through the window on the opposite door gave enough light that he could see a boy standing, facing the window. He wore a t-shirt and jeans and looked impossibly thin, almost like he’d been sick or starved.

David leaned in. “Come on, hurry. I’ll get you out.”

The boy’s eyes were deep, liquid pools on a face so thin that the skin looked stretched, like a too-small glove on a too-big hand. He shook his head.

“Come on!” Miriam shouted from behind David’s shoulder. “Hurry, we’ll pull you out.”

The boy simply stared at him.

“Come on, kid,” David muttered. He turned to Miriam. “He’s in shock, I’ve got to go after him. Help me in.”

Jacob grabbed his arm. “What about your broken arm? Let me do it.”

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt. Come on, we don’t have time, and I’m skinnier than you. Help me up.”

The other two lifted him to the window. He got halfway in and realized his mistake. It was too narrow. All he’d managed was to wedge himself in the window frame, where he’d die in the fire. The frame was too tight around his shoulders, and the more he tried to force himself in, the more stuck he got. But then, just as panic started to take him, he was in and spilling to the floor. It was hot inside, and filling with smoke. He grabbed the boy, who struggled to free himself from David’s grasp.

“It’s a lie,” David said. “Whatever they told you, it’s not true. Please, we’re here to help.”

And then the boy went limp in his arms. David lifted him to the window and the other two pulled him through. The smoke filled the room now and fire was on the inside, roasting hot. He coughed, tried to lift himself into the window, but couldn’t get high enough to get his arms through. The stupid broken arm, it didn’t hurt until he got it up and tried to put weight on it. He coughed again, felt light-headed. His eyes burned and watered. He tried again and still couldn’t get up.

“David!” Miriam said.

“It’s no use.”

“No use? You jerk!” Miriam shouted. “We didn’t go to all that so you could just die. Now get up here!”

The lawnmower sat just to his side and he wheeled it in front of the window and then climbed onto the motor. The mower started to roll, but he caught the window frame and steadied himself. Standing on the mower gave him just enough height to hook his arms over the window and then Jacob and Miriam had him by the shoulders and were yanking him through. Or at least until he got wedged again.

“Come on, come on,” Miriam said.

“I’m trying.” He hacked and coughed. The fire at his back felt like the flames of hell and whatever he’d felt moments earlier—an inevitable feeling of one’s impending death—was long gone. Terror remained. “Just get me out of here.”

“Suck it in,” Jacob said. “We’re going to yank you out if we have to pull down the whole shed. Ready? One…two…three!”

There was a sharp pain in his left shoulder, and
now
he felt his bruised ribs. He cried out at the pain. Through he came, and then was out, lying on the gravel and breathing the air. The shed blazed behind him, the fire crackling and roaring. Smoke poured into the sky. David crawled away from the shed, regained his feet. Miriam grabbed the boy and pulled him clear.

The Christianson family worked around the edge of the house. Two women had hoses, while women and children knocked flaming piles of tumbleweed away from the house with shovels or batted at flames with brooms. Father stood to one side, shouting instructions, like a general directing troops.

They were slowly bringing the fire under control. The house would be saved. The shed, on the other hand, was a total loss. It burned like a torch, illuminated the yard and gardens surrounding the ranch house. David clutched his ribs and winced.

“What about the firebug?” Jacob asked. “Should we go after him?”

Miriam shook her head. “We can raise a search party, but I bet it’s too late.”

David scanned the desert side of town. The Ghost Cliffs were a darker gash against the horizon and in the moonlight he could see the edge of Witch’s Warts beyond the temple. No flashlights or other lights in that direction, but house lights flickered on to the south and east. Word of the fire would be spreading through town and soon all of Blister Creek would be on their way to help with the fire and to search for the enemy who’d dared attack their community. He guessed Miriam was right; they could search, but they wouldn’t find anything. Whoever it was had known the area.

He put a hand on the boy’s head. “I’m guessing this one knows something. Look at these rags. He’s not from Blister Creek.”

The boy looked up at him with those deep eyes, and something stirred in David’s heart. What kind of monster would starve and then immolate a child?

And then, suddenly, he knew.

Chapter Twenty-two:

Even in the moonlight, Eliza could see the sneer on Christopher’s face, the lust and the crazed fervor in his eyes. He was going to knock her over, then rape her, and every moment he would think he was doing the Lord’s holy work, sanctifying her for the Disciple. She remembered his words and his ugly tone.

Sanctify her. Right here, in the dirt. Show her, do it.

Eliza stood naked, 135 pounds before the last few days of forced starvation. He had to weigh two hundred pounds and swung a heavy ladder like a weapon. It caught her on the chest and drove her into the overturned fridge.

But instead of pushing back, Eliza grabbed the ladder and pulled. She slid over the fridge, let her momentum pull her back. He grunted as he lost balance. She heaved, and then the ladder lost its propelling force as Christopher let go, tried to recover.

Too late. Christopher had staggered into the hole. For a moment, he teetered on the edge, trying to catch his balance, and then he fell with a cry. Madeline screamed. There was a sickening crunch. Madeline continued to scream.

“Madeline!”

The other woman seemed to catch herself. “I’m okay. He didn’t hit me, not directly. Oh, no, he’s alive. Eliza!”

“Move out of the way. Over to the side.”

Christopher groaned, muttered something. There wasn’t a second to spare. Eliza grabbed the ladder, swung it around, looked for the darker patch next to the outline of the fridge, then tilted it up so it would slide down into the pit.

“It’s the ladder, grab it.”

She hadn’t got the ladder level on the ground below and it wobbled as Madeline started to climb. Eliza hooked her leg around the edge and braced it against the fridge. Madeline’s head had just appeared above the ground when she screamed again. “He’s got my leg.”

“You filthy bitch, I’ll show you.”

Eliza grabbed her arms while Christopher tugged on her feet and Madeline kicked and fought. And then Madeline freed herself and was on the surface. Christopher was coming up after them. They shook the ladder, tried to dislodge him, and it seemed that he’d injured himself in the fall because he only gradually emerged from the ground, but they couldn’t shake him loose. He was cursing and snarling as he came up, threatening them, not just with sanctification, but swearing he would kill them and drink their blood.

When he emerged, Madeline kicked at his face, while he tried to fend her off with one arm. His other, Eliza now saw, dangled uselessly by his side. The elbow bent at a bad angle. He should be lying on the ground, in shock, but something propelled him forward. She had no doubt that he’d find a way to make good on his threats if they let him escape from the hole.

There was garbage all around her, so much that she tripped over it. She bent and groped, and her hands found something hard. It was a ripped shred of a tire and she wrenched it free from the dirt and other garbage around it. She swung from the shoulder, caught him across the side of the head.

Christopher snarled, a feral, animal sound. “Oh, you just made a big mistake.” He hooked his good arm over the top of the ladder and began to lever himself out of the pit.

But she wasn’t done. She beat him again and again on the face, until she forced him to let go and try to protect himself. “Get the ladder!” she cried.

Madeline grabbed the edge of the ladder and shook it, while Eliza kept beating. For a moment, it looked like he’d get out and Eliza braced herself to grab Madeline and make a run for it, but then he started to slip. She redoubled her attack. Her arm ached. He tried to regain his grip.

Eliza dropped the piece of tire and rushed him. She shoved her hands into his face and threw her body into the ladder. It flopped back against the other side of the narrow opening. Christopher fell with a cry.

“Get the ladder.”

The two women pulled it up. Even now, he didn’t give up. He’d caught a foot or arm on the bottom rung of the ladder. They shook it back and forth and finally wrenched it free. Moments later, they had it out of the pit and dragged it away from the opening. Christopher found his voice, and started in again on his shouts and threats. But he was at the bottom of the pit now. There was nothing he could do.

Eliza couldn’t help herself. She bent over and said, “Hope you like lettuce, jerk. And you can think about how two naked girls gave you a beating.” She turned to Madeline. “Get the fridge.”

The fridge was easier to move from above and they shortly had it maneuvered back over the hole. It muted Christopher’s rants. Soon, they died altogether, leaving only the sound of the breeze flowing over the desert.

Eliza doubled over, panting. When she caught her breath, she said, “Looks like he’s ready to purify
himself
, see how he likes it. Or is that only for women?”

“Uhm…Eliza?”

Eliza followed Madeline’s gaze. She turned to find a dozen others standing a few feet away in a half circle around them. One young woman held a lantern. Their faces were grim.

#

David drew Jacob and Miriam aside, into the shadows behind the house, where the fire had never taken hold. The sharp smell of burning paint and gasoline filled his nostrils. He had the boy by the hand and could feel him trembling. Miriam put a hand on the child’s shoulder and whispered encouraging words.

“What are you doing?” Jacob asked. “We should help put out the fire.”

“We can’t do anything about the shed,” David said, “and they’ve got the house fire under control. I don’t want the old man to hear this.”

“What, exactly, don’t you want him to hear?” Jacob asked. His tone had changed and David could tell his brother shared his suspicions about Abraham Christianson.

“I don’t know what this is all about, you coming down here and giving me a blessing, Miriam and her drugs.”

“I’m so sorry, David,” she said. “It was the only way, and—”

“It doesn’t matter, not right now. I don’t trust my father, and neither should you. If you listen to me about anything, trust me on that.”

“I don’t trust him,” she said. “Not a bit. It’s just that—”

“Please, I’m serious. You don’t have to explain anything. Later, maybe, but not now. We don’t have time. I know who the arsonist is.”

“It’s got to be a Lost Boy,” Jacob said. “Who else would try to burn down the prophet’s house? And who else would know Blister Creek well enough to come in at night?”

“Yes, but not
just
a Lost Boy. Look how skinny this boy is, the rags.”

Jacob was a smart man, and it only took him a second to put the pieces together. First, the light of understanding, then a look of horror. “Oh, no. Eliza.” He reached for his phone, started dialing. A moment later, he said, “Dammit, no answer.”

David thought about the reference to the Book of Revelation on the side of the produce truck, and his mind filled in the rest.
And the name of the star is called Wormwood.
“I don’t think we have a lot of time.”

“Could someone please fill me in,” Miriam said.

“The thing about millenialist cults is they can sit around doing nothing for a long time,” Jacob said as he dialed again. “The instant they start killing people you know they’re serious. That’s when they think the world really is coming to an end.” He stopped, said into the phone. “Liz, if you get this, call me right away. Immediately, it can’t wait.” He hung up, let out his breath.