The Gates of Babylon (37 page)

He spotted Eliza picking her way through the sandstone maze and waved until she saw him. She disappeared into the gap between two slender fins and emerged in the clearing moments later, panting as Jacob climbed down to greet her. Wet sand clung to her shoes and dirtied the hem of her dress.

“You have to come,” she said. “Hurry.”

“Is it Miriam?” David asked, voice afraid. “Is she okay?”

“Not her. She’s fine.” Eliza paused to catch her breath, chest heaving. “It’s our cousin.”

“Alfred?” Jacob said.

“We were laying out his wives for the funeral and he flipped out.” She took in another deep breath. “He locked himself in the motor home and he’s screaming about his murderers, the desecration of the temple. The end of the world. I think he’s going to kill himself. And his kids are with him.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Alfred’s Winnebago was no longer parked in front of the Christianson house when Jacob arrived on foot, but fortunately, one of his father’s widows had spotted it peeling away and then circling back in front of the house a few minutes later. She pointed him south and he located the motor home on Third West, idling in a vacant lot a few blocks from the quarantined street in front of the temple. The vehicle sat still, its engine knocking.

Jacob’s heart pounded from his run and the fear that he’d arrived too late. Then a curtain parted on the side window and a bearded face appeared momentarily.

“Alfred!” Jacob tried the doors on that side. Locked. “Open up, we need to talk.”

Eliza came running up, gasping for air. Already tired from racing out to Witch’s Warts to find him, she hadn’t been able to keep up.

“Is he—?”

“Still alive,” Jacob said. “You’re sure the kids are in there?”

“Last I saw them. He came into the house looking for you and then loaded up the kids and locked the doors. That’s when I heard him screaming. You have to do something. He was talking about dying, about standing before the judgment bar.”

Jacob tried again. “Alfred! Open this door.”

Alfred’s voice sounded on the other end of the door in a thin, almost strangled tone. “Both of them, Jacob. Hung like thieves.”

“Let your kids out, and we’ll talk,” Jacob said.

“This world is too cruel for children. Imagine the pain in their young lives. The death. The hunger. Terror when the world goes up in flames.”

“Alfred, you listen to me,” Eliza said. “Jacob is a doctor. He needs to see your children and make sure they’re okay. Open the door right now.”

“I would never harm them. Is that what you think?” He sounded hurt at the suggestion.

“Of course not,” Jacob said. “You love them. You’d never do that.”

“And you trust in the Lord, right?” Eliza added. “If He brought them to the earth, He must have a reason.”

“That’s right,” Jacob said. “It wasn’t to die now.”

“No, I suppose not. Did you mean what you said before? If anything happened to me?”

“Of course I did,” Jacob said. “But nothing is going to happen. You will bury your wives and you will grieve, but then you will continue to live. You will raise your children and you will join our community and help it survive. That is what saints do, Alfred.”

Alfred let out an anguished cry. “I can’t stay here.”

“Yes, you can. And where would you go anyway? You’re almost out of gas—you can’t get back to Colorado City.”

“Woes shall go forth—a weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The doom of ages is upon us. We must meet it. Put on the armor of God and fight in His name.”

“Let your children out, at least,” Eliza said. “You can do that, right? Then you and Jacob can sit down and discuss this.”

“That’s right, Alfred,” Jacob said. “Don’t do anything—open up and we’ll talk.”

There was a long moment of silence. Jacob stood, heart pounding, expecting to hear something awful from the other side of the door. Like gunshots.

Eliza looked terrified. “Do something, Jacob,” she whispered.

“Alfred?” he tried again.

“It’s the Antichrist, Jacob.” Now his voice was flat, dead even. “He walks among us. Killing, murdering. We must stop him, you and I. You are the One Mighty and Strong and I will be your destroying angel.”

“Alfred Christianson, open this door!”

Instead, the back door opened on the opposite side of the motor home. By the time Jacob and Eliza came around, Alfred was nudging the last of his five children down the metal stairs, then locking up again before Jacob could get up and wedge his foot in the door. Alfred’s children were shaking and crying, and the oldest girl, about ten years old, took one look at Eliza and Jacob and burst into sobs.

While Eliza drew the children away, offering words of comfort, Jacob circled the motor home, trying doors, calling for Alfred to open up, to come out and talk. He looked around for a rock to break the glass on the side door window.

The motor home lurched forward. It spit up pebbles and crunched over sagebrush then rocked as it came back onto the road. It turned left toward the center of town, going slowly at first.

Jacob ran after it. It came to a halt at the intersection and he almost caught up.

“Alfred!”

Straight along Third West would take the man north toward the Ghost Cliffs. Right would take him toward the quarantined block. The temple. The military.

The Winnebago turned toward the temple. Its engine raced and it disappeared out of sight.

No, Alfred. No.

Jacob kept running and had almost reached the street where his cousin had turned, when the shouts came through the air. A split second later, the sound of a heavy machine gun. Jacob rounded the block to see the motor home burst through the military checkpoint. A machine gun nest tore into it from its bunker behind sandbags, but the gunfire had started late, as if the gunner hadn’t quite believed the motor home would ram the barricades.

The gunner destroyed the tires, and the entire back end sagged, while the tire rims sparked on the pavement. Too late—the motor home swayed and slowed, but it had plenty of momentum as it hurtled the curb and lurched to the foot of the stairs that led up to the temple doors. The gunfire died.

Half a dozen men stood at the top of the stone staircase. One
of them was the tall, erect figure of General Lacroix. He had a radio in hand, a handful of men by his side, and wasn’t moving as the Winnebago rolled to a stop a few feet away.

You are the One Mighty and Strong and I will be your destroying angel.

Jacob threw himself to the ground. For a split second there was silence, and he thought maybe his instincts were wrong. He lifted his head. The motor home sat smoking. No sign of Alfred.

A flash of light. A concussive boom. The motor home leaped into the air as if tossed by a giant hand. It came down in a dozen flaming pieces of metal and plastic. A fireball rolled skyward, and when it dissipated, the temple door was on fire. Men lay dead and dying. Others, screaming, crawling through burning wreckage, their clothing on fire.

The second in command was a man named Colonel Inez, and he almost shot Jacob before he understood that the church leader was the only doctor in Blister Creek. When he realized Jacob was no threat, he allowed Jacob into the smoke-filled front lobby of the temple to help evacuate the building, which was threatening to go up in flames. Quick work with fire extinguishers got it under control.

Jacob identified and gathered the survivors. With the temple clearing of smoke, he set up an OR in one of the sealing rooms and a burn unit in another. Assisted by two army medics, Jacob extracted one man’s ruptured spleen, removed a hunk of metal
from another man’s skull, and stitched up several nasty cuts. There were six dead soldiers and three more missing, including General Lacroix. Eight men suffered serious injuries, including one man so terribly burned that Jacob could only administer morphine and wait for him to die.

When Jacob finished with the last surgery, he came onto the front steps of the temple to find Inez waiting, his face smudged with soot, his eyebrows singed. He coughed and spat.

“Is Barnaby going to make it?” Inez asked.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve done what I can to make him comfortable.”

Inez nodded grimly. “How about Nguyen?”

“He needs evacuation. If you can get him to a real hospital, he should pull through. There are several others who need more medical care than I can offer here. Do you have a medevac on the way?”

“Half hour.”

“Come inside,” Jacob said. “I want to check you out for smoke inhalation.”

“Forget it, Christianson.”

“You’ll feel better with some humidified air.”

“Until those choppers get here, I need to keep an eye on my men. Make sure we don’t have a massacre.”

Jacob followed his gaze to soldiers lined up with guns at the ready. The armored personnel carrier sat in front of the temple, with a man atop at the machine gun. They kept the entire block sealed, but dozens of people had gathered at each end to look at the temple, white stone blackened, huge oak doors yanked off the
hinges and tossed to one side to burn in a charred, smoking heap. A crater gaped in the ground in front of the stairs. Hunks of debris lay scattered up and down the street.

“This attack was carried out by one man,” Jacob said. “Bandits murdered his wives and he lost his mind. I tried to stop him.”

“Let’s say I believe you,” Inez said. “What does that change?”

“They’ll call it terrorism,” Jacob said. “The army will want revenge. Please, I can tell you’re a reasonable man. You have to plead our case.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you don’t want the blood of innocent people on your hands.”

“Innocent?” Inez snorted. “I saw them massing for the attack when we came in. If the shoe were on the other foot—if you were the ones with the firepower, not us—would you be merciful?”

“I would,” Jacob said firmly. “You can believe that or not. But the important thing is not what I would do, it’s what
you
will do.”

“The medevac comes first, then the ground convoy. Two hundred men.”

Jacob’s heart sank. “I see.”

“But only to guard the evacuation. We’re abandoning Blister Creek.”

“You are?” He could hardly believe it.

“This adventure was General Lacroix’s idea. He had a certain… autonomy. Which he abused in this case, or so people are saying. But don’t get cocky. We’ve got two options on the table. First, a pair of B-52s fly over the valley. Each one carries seventy thousand pounds of ordnance. By the time they close their bomb bay doors,
your town is smoking rubble. It will make an example for other would-be traitors and we won’t waste troops occupying a bunch of sagebrush and sand dunes.”

Jacob’s mouth felt dry. “You would never be telling me this if that option were still on the table.”

“True,” Inez said. “It’s not. We’re not so brutal as that. And sometimes harsh measures backfire, anyway. A firebreak that starts a brush fire.”

“Option two?”

“Quarantine.”

“What does that mean?” Jacob asked warily.

“It means Blister Creek is on its own this winter. Nobody comes, nobody leaves. The Army Corps of Engineers is sending crews to mine the roads. We’re going to put a couple of drones over the valley. You have twenty-four hours to round up any stragglers and then you’re done. After that, anyone tries to ride in or out and they’ll get a hellfire missile up their ass.”

“What about electricity? Fuel?”

“Don’t count on it.”

“And what happens in spring?” Jacob asked.

“I don’t know. Reoccupation, maybe. Or maybe this whole business is over and things start getting back to normal. That’s my vote.” Inez glanced behind him, through the gaping front doorway of the temple. “Are you done with my men?”

“I’ve done everything I can.”

“Then get the hell out of my sight. You’re in a restricted zone.”

Jacob was thoughtful as he walked toward the checkpoint with his hands in the air. Did that mean they could keep the rest
of their grain, or would the army send trucks to get it before sealing the valley? And was it just the valley, or could they get up to the reservoir, and into the surrounding mountains to hunt and cut timber? It would be a hard winter.

But it could have been worse. Much worse.

Eliza was waiting for him at the end of the block. She looked flushed and surprisingly happy. “I’ve got news,” she said. “Fernie is back.”

Relief flooded through him.

“And the boys?”

“Them, too. They’re all safe.”

He let out a long sigh of relief.

“And more good news.” A big grin spread across her face.

“Great, I could use some.”

They pushed through the people clustered at the end of the block, with Jacob begging off questions. They headed toward home.

When they were away from the crowds Jacob said, “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Her smile was so wide it almost glowed. “I heard from Steve. He’s okay.”

Jacob stopped and took her by the shoulders. “I’m so happy for you.”

“They didn’t get all the medications on your list, but Steve rounded up most of it, including the Risperidone for Daniel’s schizophrenia. Plus all sorts of other stuff. Bandages, splints, CPAP machines, you name it.”