Maelstrom

by Susanna Strom

  “Thanks.” Hannah eyes filled with tears. “After awhile, I ran out of food, and I started breaking into neighbors’ houses to raid their pantries. I ran into Levi. I recognized him from school. We hadn’t been friends—he was into rocketry club and robot battles, not theater—but he was a familiar face, and he was alone, too. We decided to stick together. Safety in numbers, you know.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “We were kind of an odd couple,” Hannah continued. “We probably never would have spent time together before the flu, but he’s really smart, and he’s nice, and he knows how to get stuff done.” Hannah stuck her chin out defiantly, as if she expected me to judge her or give her grief. “I know it’s only been a little more than a month, but he’s my boyfriend, and I love him.”

  If anybody understood what it was like to fall in love with the unlikeliest man, it was me. “I’m glad you found somebody,” I said. “It’d be hard to be alone.” My stomach knotted again. Nope. Don’t go there. “Where’s Levi now? I’d like to meet him.”

  Hannah glanced over her shoulder again. Was the girl paranoid, or just cautious? “Levi’s grandpa owns some property outside of La Pine. Levi hadn’t heard from him since the start of the pandemic. Two weeks go, we decided to get out of Portland and head for his grandpa’s place. Our car broke down a couple of miles from here. This ‘nice man,’ Deacon Morris stopped to help and brought us back to the church camp.” She made air quotes around the words nice man. “Pastor Bill said we could stay at the camp while his mechanic scrounged for parts to fix the car. Things got strange pretty quickly. Pastor Bill told us that God wanted us to join his flock. We said no, that we really wanted to get to La Pine to find Levi’s grandpa. On the morning we planned to leave, Deacon Morris took Levi to pick up the car from the mechanic. Deacon Morris came back alone.”

  “What happened to Levi?” I asked.

  She turned her head and cast an anxious glance at the open door, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Pastor Bill called me into his office and told me that Levi had decided to go without me. The pastor said that he and Levi had prayed together—asked for God’s guidance—and Levi decided that I’d be better off staying at the church camp while he went to look for his grandpa. Supposedly, he said he’d come back and get me once he knew for sure his grandpa’s place was safe.”

  Something smelled fishy about the story. “Did you believe Pastor Bill?”

  Hannah scoffed. “The story was total bullshit. For one thing, Levi’s an agnostic. The last thing he’d ever do is to sit down with Pastor Bill and pray for divine guidance. For another thing, he’d never leave me behind, especially without talking to me. We made a promise to stay together no matter what.”

  Memory smacked me in the face.

  Whatever happens, whatever comes, we’re sticking together, Mac. You got that?

  Crap, not now.

  “Did you question the pastor’s story?” I asked.

  “Do I look stupid? By the time Levi disappeared, I was totally weirded out by Pastor Bill and the camp. Just wait, you’ll see what I mean. I decided that the smart thing to do was to play along. I’m a good actress. I had a lead role in the theater program’s big spring show last April.”

  “So, what did you do?”

  Hannah’s face assumed an expression of wide-eyed innocence. “I’m playing a role. I’m all ‘Yes, sir’ and ‘Whatever you think is best, sir.’ It’s a total mind fuck. Pastor Bill always thinks he’s the smartest person in the room. It wouldn’t occur to him that a girl could outsmart him. So, I simper and act meek, and nobody suspects that I’m not onboard with this cult thing that Pastor Bill’s got going.”

  What the hell was going on at The Golden Rule Church Camp? “Are you saying that you’re a prisoner here?”

  “Well, I haven’t tried walking up to the front gate and demanding to be let out, but every time I get close to the fence, a guy with a gun shows up and tells me to go back. So, yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m a prisoner.”

  For somebody who was being held prisoner and whose boyfriend suddenly went missing, Hannah seemed surprisingly upbeat. “What about Levi? Did you ever figure out what happened to him?”

  She nodded. “The day after Levi left...” She rolled her eyes. “I found his car hidden under a tarp behind the equipment shed. I totally wigged out and wondered if they’d locked him up or maybe even killed him. I searched everywhere. If you carry a laundry basket and keep your head down and act busy, nobody asks any questions. The only place I couldn’t get into was the basement of the camp office building. That was locked. Then, two days later, I heard a mourning dove cooing.”

  Hannah paused, catching her breath. She spoke rapidly, as if trying to get her story out before we were interrupted, or maybe because she was relieved to share it with somebody she trusted.

  Confusion wrinkled my brow. “A mourning dove cooing?”

  “Yes, except it wasn’t a real bird. It was Levi. His grandpa taught him how to make bird calls, and Levi had taught me his special version of a backwards mourning dove call: coo-coo-coo-uh-coo. We were supposed to use it as a secret way to communicate if we ever got separated when we were out scavenging. I made the call back at him and he repeated it, so I know it was him. Levi’s alive, and I know he’s going to find a way to get me out of here.”

  The odds might be against a pair of teenagers escaping from a compound surrounded by armed guards, but Hannah radiated optimism and confidence. Hope and optimism were fragile things, here one day, obliterated the next. It would it take a miracle for Hannah to achieve the happily ever after that had slipped through my fingers. Maybe...maybe I could be part of that miracle, help Hannah achieve the happy ending that fate had denied me.

  A sharp rap on the door frame intruded on my musings. Pastor Bill stood in the doorway, Nicole at his side. “Are you decent?” he asked, turning his head and averting his gaze in a conspicuous show of manners.

  Hannah glanced at me, hers eyes full of warning. Nodding slightly, I squeezed her hand. I was no thespian, but following her example, I was down to attempt a good mind fuck. I tugged the blanket up to my chin, demurely covering my chest.

  “Come in.”

  Hannah folded her hands, bowed her head, and stepped back when Pastor Bill took her place at the side of my bed. Nicole took a position next to the girl, behind Pastor Bill’s back, but instead of demurely casting her gaze to the floor, she met my eyes. When she caught me looking at her, she widened her eyes. Was she feeling guilty about participating in Pastor Bill’s lie, for allowing me to believe that I was dying? Good. She should feel guilty.

  “How are you feeling today?” Pastor Bill asked pleasantly, betraying no hint of resentment over our last, rancorous conversation.

  Okay. If he wanted to make nice, I could play along. I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead, frowning in confusion. “I don’t understand. Instead of feeling worse, I seem to be getting better. My fever has gone down, and my head still hurts, but not as much.”

  There. I’d given the man the perfect opening to congratulate himself. Would he fall for it?

  “Oh, my dear. I told you that God would listen to my prayers and restore you to health.” He bent over and clasped my hand between two sweaty palms. I suppressed a shudder at the contact, then extracted my hand from his, pretending that I needed to pull up the blanket.

  Yup. He couldn’t resist taking credit for my miraculous recovery from a flu I’d never had.

  “God has a very special plan for you,” he continued, cocking his head to one side as he smiled down at me.

  “And Ripper, Kyle, and Sahdev didn’t have a part to play in God’s plan?” Saying their names hurt, but he might see through my ruse if I ignored my lost friends. I dashed away the tears that suddenly filled my eyes, determined to give Pastor Bill nothing real, especially a window into my grief.

  Behind Pastor Bill, Nicole shook her head. The movement must have caught the pastor’s attention, because he twisted his neck to look at
her. She stilled and wiped all expression from her face.

  Pastor Bill fixed his gaze on me again.

  “The Lord moves in mysterious ways, Mackenzie. Never doubt that everything that happens is ultimately for the best. Your loss, your grief, your sacrifices, all pave the way for a better tomorrow.” His voice took on a soothing, melodious cadence, and despite myself, some small part of my mind responded to his reassuring tone. The tight knot of anxiety in my chest relaxed. “The path we’re on is hard, strewn with rocks and obstacles, but you must have faith that it will lead us back to Eden.”

  Back to Eden: the same graffiti I’d spied painted on a wall in Portland and on a rocky cliff along the Columbia Gorge. The reference shocked me out of the stupor his voice had lulled me into. Back to Eden? That had to be a coincidence. Pastor Bill’s influence didn’t extend that far, did it?

  I bobbed my head, too startled to formulate an appropriate response.

  Pastor Bill’s smile broadened. Apparently, he took my silence as a positive sign, perhaps an indication that his persuasive arguments were wearing down my resistance to whatever he had in mind. Truth be told, the fact that I’d responded at all to his hypnotic voice freaked me out. The man was a liar, a manipulator, and a creep. I knew that, yet for a few seconds, I’d succumbed to the false comfort of his words. Never again. I’d never end up as one of the sheep in his deluded flock of followers.

  “I’ll think about what you said.” After my angry outburst, I had to be careful not to arouse his suspicions by appearing overeager. “Thank you, sir.”

  He positively beamed. “Now that you’re feeling better, I’d like to show you around the camp and introduce you to my congregation.”

  “I’d like that,” I said. In order to help Hannah, I had to get the lay of the land. “But before we get started, may I take a bath and put on some clean clothes? It’s been almost a week since I last bathed, and I feel dirty.”

  “Excellent idea,” he agreed, preening at the prospect of granting me a favor. “Wash away the dirt and grime of your old life, and start your new life fresh and clean.” Behind him, Hannah made a face and stuck out her tongue. “I’ll have Nicole fill a tub and bring you appropriate clothing.” He turned around. “Nicole, go prepare a bath for Mackenzie.”

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured. She hastened across the room, pausing at the doorway to look back at me. She widened her eyes again and jerked her head sideways.

  Weird. What was up with Nicole?

  Pastor Bill smiled at Hannah, whose expression had morphed into a deferential mask. “In fifteen minutes, escort Mackenzie to the women’s bathing cabin.”

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured.

  He reached out and squeezed my hand again. “I’ll take my leave for now, but I look forward to introducing you to the wonders of my new Eden.”

  As soon as Pastor Bill strode from the room, Hannah giggled and sat on the edge of my bed. “Oh, yeah. It’s a wonderful place.”

  “So, I’ll be getting the grand tour,” I said. “That’s good. I need to know the layout of the camp. I want to see exactly what we’re up against.”

  “What we’re up against?”

  “Yeah. I’m joining in on your little mind fuck.”

  THIRTEEN

  Kenzie

  The door to the small cabin swung open and an unfamiliar young woman watched Hannah and me approach. All of the women in the camp wore blouses and old-timey long skirts, but her outfit was less hideous than most, a pretty cornflower blue that complimented her blond hair. Her lips curved up in an insincere smile that didn’t reach her blue eyes.

  “Rebecca, the queen bitch,” Hannah said under her breath.

  “You can be on your way, Hannah,” the young woman said. “I’ll help Nicole with Mackenzie’s bath.” Hannah hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave me with her. Rebecca waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Shoo.”

  Shoo? I bristled. Talking to Hannah as if she were an unwelcome fly buzzing around a picnic. What would happen if Hannah didn’t shoo? Would Rebecca squash her like a pesky bug? I hugged the girl. “I’m fine,” I whispered in her ear. “I’ll see you later,” I added out loud.

  Rebecca stepped aside so I could come inside. An antique copper tub—filled halfway to the top with water—occupied the center of the cabin. Nicole bustled around the room, pulling curtains closed across the windows.

  “Bill asked me to welcome you to the community,” Rebecca said with another phony smile. Bill? Whoever Rebecca was, she was making a point, letting me know that she was on a first-name basis with the top dog. Staking some sort of claim? “I saw Nicole hauling water for your bath and decided to help.”

  “How nice,” I said with a smile as fake as her own.

  “You’re still weak.” Nicole took my arm and led me to a wooden stool. “Let me help you get out of your clothes and into the bath.” She unzipped my boots. I quickly slipped them from my feet and tucked them underneath the stool. I stripped, deposited my filthy clothes on the floor, then climbed into the tub.

  Rebecca took my place on the stool, examining her fingernails and picking imaginary bits of lint off her long skirt.

  Nicole handed me a bar of soap and a washcloth. I scrubbed my skin and washed my hair until it squeaked. Nicole poured a pitcher of warm water over my hair and offered me a hand while I clambered out of the tub. Once again, she widened her eyes and lifted her brows, clearly attempting to communicate something.

  With a long-suffering sigh, Rebecca stood and crossed to a dresser.

  “What’s with the Little House on the Prairie getup?” I demanded, frowning at the hideous skirt and blouse Rebecca pulled from a drawer.

  I shivered, standing wrapped in a towel next to the tub. My bath had been warm, rather than hot, and I was eager to get dressed, but not in that.

  My best friend Ali had managed to look adorably stylish in a maxi dress, boho sandals, and beads, but I’d always refused her offer to let me borrow one of her long gowns. As far as I was concerned, a skirt swishing around my ankles presented a tripping hazard, and bare legs meant my thighs would chafe. No thanks. If I could resist wearing one of Ali’s pretty maxi dresses, there was no way I’d say yes to the lavender gingham monstrosity with an elastic waistband that Rebecca clutched in one hand. She held a matching, long-sleeved blouse with a high, round neckline in the other hand. I squinted at the garb. Yellow daisies filled the white squares, alternating with the lavender blocks of color. Gad-fucking-zooks.

  “Where are my yoga pants?” I asked, scanning the women’s bathing cabin for my backpack.

  “Bill says that form-fitting clothes are immodest,” Rebecca said primly. “A woman must cover her curves, lest she lead a godly man into temptation.”

  My eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t my job to keep a man’s libido in check. I bit back my protests. My mind fuck extended to Rebecca and every member of Pastor Bill’s cult.

  “Of course.” I cleared my throat and put on my game face. “This is all new to me, but I’ll do my best.”

  She nodded and handed me a pair of white granny panties.

  “Where is my backpack?” I asked, slipping into the panties, my own bra—thank God—and the shapeless skirt and blouse.

  “We’re a communal society,” Rebecca said. “We’ll make good use of everything in your pack.”

  They had helped themselves to my stuff? I bit down on my jaw so hard that it ached. Wait a minute. What about my leather pouch, the one holding my phone and my photographs of Ripper and Miles. Where was it? Frantically, I scanned my memory and blew out a relieved breath when I recalled taking it out of my backpack and tucking it into a compartment in the back of the jeep, next to the solar-powered moon lantern that Ripper had given me. At least the congregation hadn’t got their grubby hands on my most precious belongings.

  Or had they? Rebecca called the church a communal society. After the explosion, maybe Pastor Bill had assigned Ripper’s jeep to a member of his congregation. Maybe I’d see a strang
er driving by in it. Maybe Pastor Bill had my phone and photographs tucked away in a drawer. I sat down heavily on the stool and hid my face from Rebecca’s scrutiny while I put on my boots.

  If I allow myself to think about Ripper, I’ll lose it.

  “Perhaps Mackenzie should stop at the dining hall for something to eat before she meets Pastor Bill,” Nicole suggested.

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Are you hungry?”

  My stomach had shriveled to the size of a peanut, and I had absolutely no appetite, but the prospect of facing Pastor Bill again held even less appeal than food. I had to do it, but it wouldn’t hurt to put it off for a little while. “Sure,” I said. “I’d like to get something to eat.”

  Rebecca shrugged.

  “Rebecca, you’ve been more than generous with your valuable time, but we’ve kept you from your duties long enough,” Nicole said. “If you like, I’ll take Mackenzie to the dining hall, then bring her to the pastor for her tour.”

  “I might as well walk over to the dining hall with you,” Rebecca said. “The cook said she was baking cinnamon rolls this morning.”

  Nicole and Rebecca led the way from the women’s bathing cabin to the large dining hall. At least a dozen men sat around the long plank tables. Their heads swiveled toward us, and all conversation ceased when we entered the room. A brown-haired young woman who was sitting alone at a table stood up and hurried over to us. She was wearing a cornflower blue skirt and blouse similar to Rebecca’s.

  “Justine, this is Mackenzie,” Rebecca said. Bobbing her head, the young woman offered me a shy smile. Rebecca crooked her finger at Justine. “Come along.” She glanced at me. “Bye now.”

  Dismissed by the queen bitch.

  “Buh-bye.” I waggled my fingers in an exaggerated wave.

  Head held high, all eyes upon her, Rebecca serenely crossed the room and disappeared behind a pair of swinging doors. Justine trailed behind her. They reappeared a minute later, each carrying a large, frosted cinnamon roll on a plate. Rebecca and Justine strolled across the dining hall and exited. The low hum of voices started up again in the room.