Sins of the Mother

by August Norman

  He slid the AR onto his lap, felt the pistol in his leg-strap holster dig into the underside of his leg. He loosened the strap, raised the rig to his upper thigh, and shifted the gun so the butt was easily accessible. Finally, he bent down for the keys, got them in the ignition, started the Jeep, and turned on the headlights.

  “You freaking bitch.”

  Ten feet away, Caitlin Bergman, covered in dirt and blood, sat on a neon-green motocross bike with a handgun aimed right at Johnny’s face.

  CHAPTER

  63

  “DON’T MOVE, LARSEN.”

  Ash and embers whipping around her like a snowstorm, Caitlin extended the kickstand and got off the back of the motorcycle, keeping Stupid Tom’s gun aimed at Johnny’s face. Her only bullet had pancaked against his body armor, but he couldn’t know that. Since the bike would carry only one and Magda’s shoulder made it too risky to double up, Caitlin had ridden ahead, confident that Magda would be along on foot any second with a real gun and real ammo. The plan was to find Larsen, not confront him, but she’d seen him empty his hands to drive and took a chance. Now here she was, armed only with her mouth.

  Johnny’s right hand dipped slightly below the steering wheel.

  “What’d I say, asshole?”

  Caitlin stepped forward with the bravado of someone with bullets to spare.

  His hands returned to ten and two, and Caitlin moved closer to the driver’s side. She could hear the Jeep’s engine running but didn’t know if he had the manual transmission in gear. If he wanted to drive forward, he’d have to go over the bike. She stopped to his left, five feet off his side mirror.

  She blinked her watering eyes, fighting back bits of ash. “If you move again, you die.”

  “Easy there, Bergman.”

  Another gust of wind swept through, and Caitlin yelled to make sure Larsen heard every word. “Take the keys out of the ignition and throw them over the side.”

  “Or what?” Johnny said, no fear in his voice.

  She took another two steps, ending nearly perpendicular to his door. “Or this all ends now.”

  “Yeah?”

  She could see Promise’s head but not much else over Johnny’s arms. Caitlin doubled down on her bluff. “You’re damned right.”

  Larsen ground his teeth. “I say you’re full of shit. If you were gonna shoot me, you’d have done it already. Now that bitch I shot in the big house,” he said with a slight smile, “the one that looks like you in twenty years, but with a backbone? She’d have dropped me in a second, just like she did that Daya chick in the woods.”

  That Daya comment was his attempt to bait her, but Caitlin settled herself, holding the gun in the modified Weaver stance she’d learned from her father, her firing arm straight, her supportive arm bent at an angle.

  “’Course,” Johnny continued, “if you have to shoot me, you might miss and hit Promise, which would make this whole shit show pointless, wouldn’t it? Head shots are harder than they look, especially with all this crap in the air getting in your eyes, and you already know I’m wearing Kevlar.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Both of them blinked back watering eyes, and Caitlin’s chest ached from all the smoke. She kept her words tight to avoid the coughing fit that wanted out. “The keys, asshole. Right. Fucking. Now.”

  “Sure,” Larsen said. “You’re the one with the gun.”

  Johnny’s right hand lowered toward the ignition. He froze there, smiling. “You should have killed me.”

  Her bluff had failed. Caitlin pivoted right and ran toward the Jeep’s back bumper but wasn’t fast enough.

  A crisp gunshot boomed from the front seat.

  She fell into the dirt, waiting for her body to light up in pain, but only the spots where her shoulder hit the ground registered. She crawled behind the Jeep, expecting a second, third, and ninetieth shot to follow, but nothing happened.

  A deep breath gave her the courage to look through the back window of the Jeep’s soft-top. Johnny Larsen sat slumped against the driver’s side door. Promise fought with her seat belt, opened the passenger side door, and stumbled out, carrying her father’s pistol.

  “I’m not your special girl,” she said, eyes still on her father’s body, “and I won’t go home. Ever.”

  Caitlin reached out for her. “That’s fine, Promise. You don’t ever have to.”

  Promise turned Caitlin’s way, blinking between consciousness and someplace else. Caitlin opened her outstretched palm and moved her fingers until the girl’s eyes tracked her movement. “You saved my life, kid.”

  She lowered her hand slowly toward Promise’s arm.

  Promise’s head turned as she seemed to make the connection. Her shoulders shook and she lowered the gun. “You saved mine, Magda.”

  “Close enough,” Caitlin said, bringing the girl into a hug.

  She couldn’t be sure how long she stood there with her arms around the young woman. Seconds, minutes; the moment felt eternal, like Caitlin’s whole life had led to this one embrace. What did family mean, or love? She closed her eyes, sure that if she passed out there in the swirling smoke and woke bathed in light, she would regret nothing.

  The sound of Magda running onto the road from behind a building broke the moment. Caitlin opened her eyes. Sound asleep, Promise did not.

  Magda carried an assault rifle Caitlin hadn’t seen before. “Sorry I was late. He wasn’t alone.”

  Caitlin didn’t see anyone in pursuit. “Do we need—”

  “His friend won’t be a problem.” Magda opened the Jeep’s front door and pulled Johnny Larsen’s dead body out. “It’s time to get to the Hill for the calling of the names.”

  CHAPTER

  64

  WEDGED IN THE passenger seat with Promise, Caitlin tried to convince Magda the world wasn’t ending.

  “But the hill isn’t surrounded by fire, Magda. It’s only on this entrance, and that’s only because Larsen set it. Promise needs medical attention.”

  Magda shook her head and swung the Jeep around a corner. “Desmond said it was only Valium when he was—”

  The words trailed off. Riding either adrenaline or shock, Magda pulled the Jeep around the side road that bypassed the main compound, despite her wounded shoulder, and aimed for the stairway at the base of God’s Hill, starting a completely different thought.

  “You’ve seen the winds, Caitlin, and the rest of the county. The fire will spread quickly. This is how it happens.”

  “How what happens, Linda’s dream? That was all bullshit. You said so yourself, Desmond is just as false as Daya. Plus, he poisoned the Daughters.”

  “What you saw was the Calm,” Magda yelled. “You don’t understand. They were in a relaxed state—”

  “Listen to me, Magda. You’re in shock. I saw them suffocating on their own vomit, not tripping out on some ‘calm.’ Half of them were already dead, as in beyond help, and they’re all going to die if we don’t get them out of here.”

  They took a turn that forced Caitlin against the door. Out the windshield, she could see that the trees surrounding the compound were now ablaze.

  Magda still didn’t seem concerned. “The signs are here, the time is right.”

  Caitlin grabbed the handle above the roll bar to keep from slipping. “But you know this is bullshit. Hell, you said it yourself in your note to me. The Daughters are corrupt. Daya tried to sell a thirteen-year-old girl to a child molester. Desmond left you to die in the gallery after begging for his life while offering to pimp out every woman on the hill.”

  “It’s not about Desmond or Daya, Caitlin. Can’t you see that? It’s about meeting the Spirit in the Light and ascending, like the Five, like Linda.”

  “I found the Five.”

  Magda rolled her eyes. “I’ve searched all of God’s Hill, for months. They’re—”

  “Under the landslide, in a town car, all dead, completely unascended. I’ve seen them, five bodies; at least one of them was shot in the head. Either Desmond or Da
ya murdered them, probably both. It’s why they sold the paving equipment, so no one would try to repair the road.”

  “You don’t understand, Caitlin.”

  “No, I fucking don’t.” Even after hearing Desmond Pratten try to sell Lily Kramer to save his own ass, her mother wasn’t going to abandon her crazy faith. “How can you still believe any of this shit?”

  Magda rounded a corner. “Because I’ve seen the face of God. I’ve seen this day before. In the Knowing.”

  “The Knowing—”

  “You were there, Caitlin.”

  “I was where?”

  “Just like now. You were older, and you were there, and you forgave me—”

  “Stop.”

  “—just like you did tonight—”

  Caitlin grabbed Magda’s arm and pointed ahead. “Stop.”

  A football field away, two burning trees had fallen over the road. Magda brought the Jeep to a stop.

  “I saw the face of God, Caitlin, and you were there. Even if Desmond and Daya were false, Linda was true from the beginning, and she ascended.” Magda opened her door and got out.

  Caitlin reached for her own handle. “But Linda didn’t ascend either.”

  Magda appeared at Caitlin’s side of the car, either oblivious to the last statement or just unable to hear it. “We walk from here. Can you lift Promise?”

  Caitlin nudged the teen. “We have to walk, kid.”

  Promise woke enough to stumble alongside under Caitlin’s arm. The fallen trees, each around two feet in diameter, glowed with ribbons of flame, but Magda managed to find safe sections they could cross. Another five hundred feet would take them to the stairs to God’s Hill. A quarter of a mile downhill past that would get them to the garage where Caitlin’s rental truck waited. What did it matter if Magda was determined to die?

  The freaking satellite phone.

  Caitlin paused with Promise, reached into her pocket, grabbed the satellite phone, and dialed Lakshmi’s number from memory.

  Once again, the girl answered in the darkest hour of the night. “Brilliant, Caitlin, you’re alive.”

  “Debatable,” Caitlin answered, her and Promise trailing ten feet behind Magda. “I know it’s not the morning, but were you able to get the message I asked for?”

  “I can do better than that. We’re on our way there now in a private jet. Beverly?”

  Somewhere between laughter and prayer, Caitlin waited until an older woman’s voice came on the phone. “This is Beverly Chandler.”

  Caitlin covered the handset. “Magda, stop. Before you climb those stairs, you need to talk to someone.”

  Magda turned, staring first at Caitlin like she was insane, then focusing on the phone in her hand. She walked over and took the satellite phone.

  “Hello?”

  Caitlin heard the first exchange.

  “Maya, is that you?”

  Magda took a step backward, tears in her eyes. “Bevvie?”

  Would it be enough? Would twenty years of mental programming keep Magda locked in her twisted reality, or would the woman’s mind break on the side of a burning mountain?

  Seconds later, Magda fell to her knees, crying, but still talking on the phone.

  Something had broken, but Caitlin didn’t think it was Magda. She pulled Promise a few feet away, giving the women a minute of privacy.

  Finally, Magda walked back over, her face red, her eyes a mess, but no tears visible. Caitlin knew the look well enough. Just like she herself had done on her thirteenth birthday, Magda had turned her sadness to rage. She handed Caitlin the phone.

  Lakshmi waited on the other end. “We’ll be at the North Bend airport in two hours,” she said. “Stay safe.”

  Caitlin made sure Lakshmi had as much information as possible, then hung up.

  Magda resumed her walk toward the stairs like a bullet hadn’t passed through her shoulder. “We’ve got to get the Daughters out of here before they all burn to death.”

  CHAPTER

  65

  THE TRIO’S ARRIVAL at the top of the stairs didn’t seem to surprise even one of the remaining Daughters. Despite the smoke-filled air and the ground littered with naked, unmoving bodies in rank pools of bodily fluids, fifteen women held hands in a semicircle around the still-raging fire. Led by Gwendolyn Sunrise, her stump of a hand wrapped in a bloody T-shirt, they sang out the words to another one of their songs with the artificial joy of a high school show choir.

  Even at the darkest hour

  Even on the ending night

  We will harness love’s pure power

  And rise up into the pure light

  Caitlin propped Promise against a waist-high rock wall, the strenuous activity having taken its toll on the drugged girl—and, she had to admit, her. Magda broke through into the center of the group.

  “Daughters, listen to me.”

  Gwendolyn raised the held hand of the woman on her good side and doubled down with another verse.

  Other voices may conspire

  To come and take you far away

  But only true believer fire

  Can save you on the final day

  “My sisters,” Magda continued, pleading in front of the semicircle, “my friends, my family—”

  Gwendolyn let go of her neighbor’s hand and stepped forward, her good palm open and out, her wounded hand dripping blood. “You’re in pain, Magda. Join us and prepare.”

  Caitlin watched the eyes of the others. Only a handful actually tracked the actions of the two women. The rest had the glazed-over, bloodshot eyes of kids who’d spent twenty straight hours watching cartoons after downing two liters of Mountain Dew. She recognized Lily Kramer and Mouse Girl, now naked and unarmed, among the bedraggled survivors.

  “No,” Magda said. “Tonight is not the night. Desmond has abandoned us.”

  Gwendolyn smiled the idea away, shaking her head. “As was foretold, even on the last night, the seeds of doubt will be sown.”

  “These aren’t the seeds of doubt. Linda Sperry did not ascend.”

  “Of course she did,” Gwendolyn said. “You were the witness to the miracle—”

  “Because I didn’t know there was a stairway under the house. Beverly Bangs is alive—”

  Caitlin saw the name register on Gwendolyn’s face, but nothing from the rest of the crowd. From the age difference between Sunrise and the others, Caitlin guessed many had joined after Beverly left.

  “But not here,” Gwendolyn answered, turning back to the Daughters. “Water not the seeds of doubt, for they are—”

  The response came. “The roots of diversion.”

  “And the roots of diversion grow?”

  “The tree of temptation.”

  Caitlin saw desperation cloud Magda’s face. After all those years of chanting along, even teaching the words, she stood helpless.

  “Caitlin has seen the Five,” Magda said, waving her over. “She’s found their bodies, not far from here. Tell them, Caitlin, please.”

  Caitlin waded into the women and met their eyes. She saw exhaustion—surely most were close to collapse—but also fear and doubt, even in bloody Gwendolyn Sunrise, who sneered at Caitlin’s approach. Only fifteen women remained on their feet. That meant over thirty were dead. The remaining women weren’t going to leave willingly; to do so would mean the destruction of their entire realities, beliefs so strong that they were willing to stand naked on top of a mountain in front of a fire during fire season.

  “She’s not a Daughter,” Gwendolyn said. “She doesn’t even believe in God.”

  “It’s true.” Caitlin climbed up onto the rock wall circling the Eternal Flame and faced the women. “I’m not a Daughter.”

  She looked down, saw Magda, helpless and alone.

  “I came here looking for a mother. A woman I thought had abandoned me, a woman I hated for years, without ever having even met her. I came with doubts, laughing at your ways and your songs, ready to bury my so-called mother with a final fuck you.”


  Gwendolyn Sunrise nodded, as if she’d been right all along.

  “And then I met a few of you—”

  She pointed at the naked lawyer. “Gwendolyn, a natural leader and true believer. What kind of strength must it take to stand there, bleeding and in shock?” She moved on to Lily Kramer. “Eve, the youngest, but with a heart of pure gold and dedication.”

  She pointed down toward the main compound.

  “Then I met Desmond. Our time together was short.” She looked at Magda, remembering Maya’s first meeting at Linda Sperry’s house. “But I felt something I had never felt before. He touched my wrist—”

  Recognition passed through more than one face.

  “—and something happened in me. Something opened. Then Desmond said something to me I’d never even considered. I didn’t hate my mother, Magda, who, as confused as she is right now after having been shot by one of the intruders, has always been a pure follower of the Light.”

  Magda looked dumbfounded. Caitlin didn’t slow down. “I didn’t hate her, I hated myself. The weakness in me. The cravings I had, the desires, the complete lack of someone who could tell me I was special.” She pointed around the circle. “You’ve all grown up wanting. You’ve all suffered. Yet here you are, at the end of it all: giving, pure, and ready, without fear. Well, Desmond spoke that truth and touched my wrist, and something happened to me.”

  Caitlin thought about Scott Canton’s advice, about the letter and the spirit of the law.

  Don’t get caught up on whether you should stone someone for telling a lie … if the lie was told to get people out of the valley before a flood.

  Fighting these women and their beliefs wasn’t going to do anything but send them deeper into their foxholes.

  “I was terrified,” she continued. “I ran away from the compound, broke out, blew up the motor pool.”

  Another look of recognition crossed the faces.

  “And that’s when my miracle happened. I fell asleep. When I woke, my mother stood over me. She wasn’t dead; she’d been guarding Promise Larsen from the evil that her father would do, as any good Daughter of God would have done. I knew then that Desmond had been right. If he was right about that, then he was right about the rest. As were you wonderful, brave women. Unique, powerful, and necessary, every one.”