Sinful Purity (Sinful Series) (42 page)

I was disgusted by her justification. She still revered him after all his sins, after all his crimes. It was no secret that I had never liked Sister Christine. I had always seen her as evil and vile, the very worst of humanity cloaked in shepherd’s clothes. But I had never known she was so weak, nothing more than a follower.

I left Mother Superior’s office stronger, more confident, and with more conviction than when I arrived. I slammed the door behind me, never to
look back at my childhood prison again. That chapter of my life was closed. Now I needed to get back to the dorm before Caleb and Lucy discovered I was gone. If Caleb knew I had broken his rules, he would never take me with him tonight. And I had to go. I still had unfinished business. One final captor, one remaining demon still waited to be slain. I could not flee to safety until my quest was complete. My fight was not over.

In my room, I waited. I waited all day and into the evening for Caleb to come and get me. Lucy brought me my meals like always. I struggled with the small talk, not wanting to lose my resolve or break down emotionally again. I knew I only had so much strength, so my intent needed to remain at the forefront of my thoughts to keep me from wavering. I was not a strong person by nature. I had never been taught to be brave or courageous. Instead I was taught to conform, to blend in. Sister Christine taught us to “complement your surroundings; do not overpower them.” That was my life lesson, to be agreeable and bland. But tonight that was going to change. Tonight I would be downright overbearing and offensive. Tonight I would demand retribution.

Right after dark Caleb knocked on my door. I ran and opened it in one leap.

“You’re ready, I see,” he noted with a smirk.

“Yes, I am.”

“All right. We have to be stealthy first. We still need to find one of those cloaked thugs so they can lead us to a tunnel entrance.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath to calm myself.

Caleb and I walked casually through the campus like we were just out for a stroll, without any hidden agenda. We sat down at a small table in the south quad situated between the administration offices and the seminary. It was there that I noticed the small drops of chocolate shake that had stained the leg of my jeans.

“Oh God,” I muttered.

“Liz, you okay?” Caleb asked.

“I’m wearing the same jeans I wore when Zack was killed. I didn’t know. I just grabbed them.” I could feel the sobs building up pressure, demanding to escape.

“Oh, Liz. Remember, we’re doing this for him.” Caleb put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.

A hush fell over us again. There we waited, until the hour became so late that we appeared conspicuous. Then we tucked ourselves into a small hedge of bushes. Secluded and hidden from sight, we sat together in silence and anticipation, with only each other and our growing nervousness for company. Hours later, right after the last toll of the clock tower marked midnight, our purpose was realized. From the side door of the seminary emerged two of my once-dreaded and feared shadow stalkers, stepping into the moonlight only to vanish six feet later into nothingness. A moment after we were certain they had gone, Caleb and I rushed to the site of the disappearance. There, buried in the lush green lawn I adored, lay a trap door. Covered with grass and completely inconspicuous to the naked eye, the tunnel entrance waited.

My heart was overwhelmed with that all-too-familiar sinking feeling, the one I always experienced when I realized yet another thing in my life was a lie. Now I couldn’t even believe the grass. What kind of world did I live in?

The kind where even the shrubberies are deviant and deceptive
, I thought with a wicked, self-defeating giggle.

Caleb lifted the secret door, revealing the well-concealed entrance to my tormentors’ unholy lair. Caleb lowered me down first, carefully. Then he leaped down the tight, damp stone portal, landing almost silently on the moisture-stained and moss-covered cobblestone floor. The air was heavy and humid. A musty smell seized the back of my throat with its burning fist, choking me. Caleb pulled the hatch door shut, concealing our intrusion. Looking around my new dark and ominous surroundings, I gasped.

“It goes on forever,” I noticed as I examined the ancient tunnel.

“Let’s hope not,” Caleb said with his usual nonchalance and good humor. I knew he was trying to put me at ease, but my frayed nerves could not appreciate his efforts. I ignored his remark, concentrating only on the vastness of the passageway. The tunnel was in actuality a well-constructed corridor encased in stone on all sides. The floor, the walls, even the arched ceilings were all fastidiously laid rock, perfectly stacked and mortared in place. Small, dim utility lights shone in the distance every fifty feet or so. I figured they must have been installed at the same time as the fiber optics a few years back. Except for those rare well-spaced modern touches, the tunnel appeared to be original, dating back a couple hundred years. Caleb and I trudged onward in our silent pursuit, with only the muffled sound
of our footsteps to accompany us. After we traveled several minutes down our straight, uninterrupted course, the tunnel opened a little, revealing a side chamber.

“Look.” Caleb pointed, pleased by our discovery. He cautiously shoved the brittle old wooden door aside, exposing more of the cavern’s secrets with each creak of the rusty iron hinges. Well hidden within its stone grotto appeared to be a laboratory—a chemistry lab, to be precise. Caleb and I ventured inside, studying each new clue. The strategically arranged assortment of beakers, graduated cylinders, and filtration tubes all bore witness to the malevolent happenings. This lab was new and recently used. All of its contents were well stocked and state of the art. This was not an abandoned remnant, long forgotten by time. This was a main fixture, an integral part of our foes’ sinister plot. We had discovered the stereotypical secret lab, and I was confident the mad scientist was not far behind.

“What is all this junk?” Caleb asked, disgusted by the makeshift lab and cluttered glassware.

“It’s his lab,” I said authoritatively as the pieces fell perfectly into place.

“Whose lab, Liz?”

“Brennigan’s lab.”

“Brennigan? Why would a priest have a laboratory?”

“Haven’t you realized? He is no ordinary priest.”

“Yeah, okay, then. But I think we’re under the science building. Wouldn’t it be more likely for one of the professors to be a part of all this? I can’t really see Friar Tuck mixing up elixirs of holiness down here.” He chuckled. “He’s not exactly Albert Einstein.”

“You’re wrong, Caleb. That is exactly what he is. When I was in Maine, I did a little investigating of my own. Brennigan graduated from St. Joseph’s College up there.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So religion wasn’t all he studied. He received some major award for his work in chemistry. It was a big deal. He was supposed to be the next great chemical genius or something.”

“No way, that’s crazy.” Caleb looked shocked by the mounting evidence.

“The really crazy thing is it all makes sense,” I said, feeling triumphant in my superior mystery-solving skills.

“Maybe to you.” Caleb grimaced, still frustrated by being left in the dark.

“Caleb, the article I found said something about him developing a substance that suppresses thought patterns and neurological impulses.”

“You’re the honor student here, not me. Want to try that again?”

“I think Brennigan is trying to control people’s thoughts and actions.”

“Like hypnosis?” Caleb asked, grasping at straws.

“No, like through drugs and chemicals.”

“You mean chemical hypnosis?”

“I guess, if that’s what you want to call it. I just don’t know exactly how he’s administering it.”

“Hey, Liz, do you think that is the toxin they found in your blood?”

“Yeah, Caleb. I do. I also think that’s what has been making all the kids at the orphanage sick. I heard Father Brennigan tell Sister Christine during one of their arguments that he’d changed the formula.”

“Well, he must not have perfected it yet,” Caleb joked nervously.

“We should get going,” I urged, concerned that we had already spent too much time in one place.

“You want to go to the police?” Caleb offered. I could tell he was uncomfortable with our new discovery, and standing around the creepy lab responsible for it all only intensified the feeling of unease.

“No, I need to know more.” My resolution was still firm, and surprisingly, my strength was still holding out.

Caleb and I left the evil scientist’s sanctum and entered the main passageway once again. I could tell that Caleb was still lost in thought, trying to understand the new design in light of our recent findings.

“Liz?” he whispered as we walked.

“Yeah?”

“What could that mind-control junk do to a person?”

I knew from his suddenly stoic demeanor that his thoughts were of his own family and their turmoil. “I don’t know for sure. Chemically, the serum would suppress specific impulses or thoughts by regulating the chemistry in your brain and body. Hormones, amino acids, peptide chains, and glandular stuff like that was what the article in Maine talked about. But I’m not sure. Zack used to tell me that I would get moody and distant, like my mind had checked out of my body. It was more like I was just going through the motions. Like my emotions weren’t really there,” I explained as honestly as I could.

“So it’s not like Brennigan is telling everyone what to do or how to act? Like telepathy or something?”

“No, I think it’s just an impulse thing. Like taking an ethics vitamin. But with nasty side effects.”

“So when you’re on this stuff, you become all ethical and moral?”

“I guess so. At least I think that was how he intended it to work. But turning regular folks into pod people must be harder than it sounds.”

“All I’ve ever seen it do is make people judgmental and irritable,” Caleb pointed out.

“Well, it can be difficult trying to be the morality police when you’re operating like a robot on cruise control,” I snapped, feeling the need to defend myself.

“Sorry, Liz. I didn’t mean anything by it. It must be awful not feeling like yourself and not knowing why.”

“I just wish I knew how he was doing it. How could he get everyone to willingly or at least unknowingly take his concoction?”

“Well, the side effects always happen at church. That’s when everyone gets sick, right? Maybe he adds the potion during Communion. They’re always cooking up there anyway, mixing this, pouring that. Who’d ever know?” Caleb jested.

“I don’t know. This last time I never even made it to Communion. I passed out before.” I remembered back to last Wednesday when I’d blacked out and woken up in the hospital days later.

Just then Caleb put up his hand, gesturing for me to be quiet. In the distance, I could hear voices. They were muffled and indecipherable but voices nonetheless. I could feel the adrenaline course through my veins like a tidal wave bringing fear and anxiety. It was the proverbial fight-or-flight syndrome. What was left of my sanity told me to flee, to run and never look back. I wanted to take Sister Christine up on her promise of safety and to disappear. But my soul, my very existence said that this fight was mine. I would never have a moment of peace knowing I had retreated like a coward.

Caleb and I crouched down, continuing to advance ever so slowly, stealthily. There in the dark between the dim utility lights, the corridor opened into an immense circular room. The tremendous void resembled a great gathering hall, with high domed ceiling and great stone walls. Anchored to the massive stone canopy were five mammoth iron chandeliers circling the room. Each candelabrum housed a dozen evenly spaced candles.
The candles themselves were giant, larger than even the most prominent of St. Matthew’s altar candles. There were dozens of floor candles on brass bases surrounding a central carved wooden altar. The flaming wax army brightly illuminated the entire room. We could feel their intense radiating heat even in the cold, damp shadows that enshrouded us.

There in the shadows, Caleb and I watched as cloaked stooges, my shadow stalkers, gathered. They entered from every angle, emerging from the darkness that surrounded the great hall. The room itself mirrored its grand chandeliers, with tunnels that jutted off in every direction like the spokes of a wheel. There must have been at least fifteen to twenty alternate entrances and exits. I couldn’t fathom where all these baneful conduits could lead. My mind raced at the thought of each passageway signifying another hierarchical tier in this cosmic conspiracy. Hidden in the darkness with the prying eyes of a predator, I saw him—the mastermind. A malevolent puppeteer manipulating the strings of his mindless militia. Monsignor Brennigan. He stood there in the center of the room, shrouded in the same sinister robes of his followers, encircled by his misled worshippers. I gasped aloud as my wildest assumptions were realized.

It was then that I felt the cold, forceful hand of my attacker on the back of my neck. Frozen with fear, I could not utter a word. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Caleb being hauled to his feet the same as I was.

Oh my God. This is it.

“Bring them to me. Do not hurt her,” I heard Monsignor Brennigan instruct.

The two hooded assailants ushered Caleb and me forward into the blinding light and flaming heat. Stopping only feet away from Monsignor Brennigan, the two henchmen released us and stepped aside. Standing there in front of my once holy and revered leader, I knew judgment day had arrived. I just wasn’t sure if it was his or mine. Either way, I knew we’d all pay tonight.

“Ah, Mr. Price. You have played your part well. Your family has always been so reliable, so faithful to St. Matthew’s in every way.” Brennigan spoke in his putridly sweet tone, making my stomach churn with his vileness.

I whirled toward Caleb. “What?” I demanded.

“It’s not like that. Liz, you know it’s not that way!” Caleb insisted.

“How could you?” I glared at Caleb with revulsion, condemning him.

“Tell her!” Caleb screamed at Brennigan.