It was a vulnerable moment. A strong grip on hand and shoulder. No hands free for movement. For either of them. But supposing the other man weren’t alone. The man on the other side of the veil shifted on his feet but didn’t break his grip.
Jacob glanced down and saw something dark move toward him at waist level. The grip on his hand and shoulder tightened. He couldn’t break it. Instead, he lurched to one side. A knife thrust through the mark at the level of his navel.
“Jacob!” Stephen Paul warned. He put his hands on Jacob’s shoulders and jerked him backward.
The blade withdrew. It glistened with blood. Jacob reached a hand to his gut, but it came away clean and he felt no pain. The blood on the blade was not his own.
Moving shadows and muffled shouts came from the other side of the veil. Running feet. Heedless of his own safety, Jacob pushed aside the veil. Stephen Paul followed him into the Celestial Room. It was bright on the other side, and it took a second for Jacob’s eyes to adjust.
The Celestial Room was a small room with a few plush armchairs for quiet contemplation. A chandelier of cut crystal lit the room. The floor was a thick carpet and the walls were marble. A door slammed on the far side of the room.
Enoch lay on his back in the middle of the room. The carpet around his feet was a butcher’s block of blood and guts. His temple robes lay in bloody shreds, centered around a gaping hole in his middle.
Stephen Paul stood at Jacob’s side. “Oh, sweet Jesus Christ.” The man turned and was sick.
Jacob could not look away. A single, strangled word came from his mouth. “Enoch.”
They hadn’t had enough time to crack Enoch’s chest and take the heart, but they had done a fair job of the vitals. Severed intestines and other innards lay half-spilled onto the floor. A bloody trail led across the floor in the direction of the slammed door on the far side of the Celestial Room.
Jacob heard sounds at his back and remembered the women. “Quick,” he told Stephen Paul. “Don’t let the women through the veil. Especially not Eliza.” The man recovered enough of his wits to obey.
Enoch, Jacob was horrified to discover, was still alive. He clutched at the seeping guts, as if trying to push what was left of them back inside. Intestines squirted through his fingers.
Jacob stared, mouth agape. I agree to have my breast cut open and my heart and vitals torn out from my body and given to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field. The penalty of the Second Token of the Aaronic Priesthood.
“Dear God,” Jacob said as he snapped from his stupor and hurried to his brother’s side. “No, Enoch. No.” He knelt. He reached for the wound, as if hands could close it again. All around him, bits of tissue and chunks of innards. Much of it was missing, taken away.
He must not lose control. It was only meat. Just meat in a butcher’s shop.
My brother.
“Oh, Enoch. What happened? Oh, God. Please, no.”
Enoch looked up at Jacob, his eyes semi-glazed. Blood foamed at his lips. “River of sperm,” he whispered. “A river.”
Jacob knew he had only seconds. “What do you mean?”
“The genes flow in two directions. River of sperm.”
Jacob had no idea what he was talking about. “Who did this to you?”
“Gid…”
“Gideon?” When Enoch gave a faint nod, he pressed. “And Taylor Junior? Was he involved, too?”
Too late. The light faded in his brother’s eyes. His soul left his body. And the body hung there, limp, lifeless. An empty glove. Dead.
Jacob lifted bloody hands to his face. He felt like he was going to pass out.
Stephen Paul came back, then. He wouldn’t look at the body. “I told my brother, but not the women. Eliza is okay. She doesn’t know what to make of the delay. Fernie and Charity will be asking questions any moment, though. We’d better come up with something, and quickly.”
Not yet. He needed more time. Jacob had to clear his mind and start thinking rationally. It was all he could do not to take his brother in his arms and weep. But he couldn’t afford that luxury.
“This is your brother?” Stephen Paul asked in a half-strangled voice. “Oh, Jacob. I’m sorry.” A silent moment. “Who would do such a thing? Who would desecrate the temple?”
The question snapped Jacob from his stupor. “Lost Boys. Gideon Kimball. Others.” Taylor Junior. Bastard. “There were at least two in here, one to hold me at the veil and the other with the knife.” He looked down at Enoch’s sprawling body, but had to look away in a hurry. He took two deep breaths. “My brother was a strong man. And we heard nothing while they cut him open, alive. At least three, then.”
“I saw someone running,” Stephen Paul said. “He went through that door.”
Jacob nodded. He stood up and wiped the blood from his hands onto his white temple clothes. It made an appalling mess. He ran his sleeve across his face. It came away red, too.
Jacob said, “I saw the same thing. But I didn’t see his face.”
“Neither did I. But he was wearing his robes and everything. I saw the green of his apron.”
Jacob had seen white, but not the green. So the murderer had dressed in his complete temple clothing in preparation for ordinances. Whatever for? Had they performed their own endowment session? Why? And if so, why had they waited until the last minute to kill Enoch, who must have been waiting behind the veil for some time?
Jacob’s mind was racing. The door on the right side of the room led to the changing rooms. The one on the left led to the sealing rooms. The murderers had fled to the left. He had assumed at first that they had taken that route because it led further in, past the Holy of Holies to the offices of the temple president. From there, one could take the back stairs and flee through a side door.
Even as he turned this over in his mind, he heard a woman’s scream from behind him. He turned, expecting to see that Fernie, Charity, or Eliza had come into the Celestial Room and seen Enoch’s butchered body. But the veil was still drawn and the women on the other side.
He turned back to the door where the murderers had fled. Fled in their temple clothes. Enoch’s attackers didn’t mean to leave the building. Their destination was the sealing rooms. It was there that a man would take a woman in celestial marriage.
Eliza. They’d come for his sister.
Chapter Twenty-Two:
Eliza had known something was wrong even before Stephen Paul returned from the other side of the veil with his face ashen and wiping at his mouth.
It was her first time in the temple, and so she was letting events push her. Take off the robe, put it on the other shoulder. Repeat these words. It was surreal and more than a little creepy. Especially the oaths. The only thing that kept her going was her brother and sister. They had done this before. Surely they knew what they were doing.
And so she hadn’t been immediately concerned when Jacob and Stephen Paul rushed through the veil. But Fernie and Charity stood on either side of her, short of the altar that stood in front of the veil. They exchanged worried looks that crossed in front of Eliza. Stephen Paul’s brother, Aaron Young, stood between them and the veil, waiting his turn to pass into the Celestial Room. He shifted from foot to foot as if not knowing whether to go forward or to stay where he was.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
Charity put a hand on her wrist. “I don’t know. I—”
But before she could finish, Stephen Paul parted the veil. He looked at Charity. “Keep her in here. Do not come through.” He turned and went back through.
My brother. Something had happened to him. To Jacob, or maybe Enoch. Perhaps both. She started forward, but the two women took their charge seriously. They each grabbed her wrist and held her in place. Aaron Young, too, held out his arms to stop her.
“Let me go,” she said. She opened her mouth to cry for Jacob, but just then she heard a commotion from the back of the Terrestial Room.
Coming up the aisle then,
to her surprise, ran three more men. All three wore temple robes as did the women and Aaron Young.
She didn’t recognize any of them, but she knew who the leader was. He had the same narrow eyes as Taylor Junior, and the same forehead as Elder Kimball. It must be Gideon Kimball.
One of the men held a plastic garbage sack tucked through his belt. It hung round and damp, and she saw now, to her horror, that blood dribbled down its side. Good Lord, what was in that sack? More blood splattered like paint flicked from a brush across their robes. There was blood on their hands and even faces.
The three men moved swiftly down the aisle. No hesitation. Running straight at them. Charity and Fernie moved just as quickly to maneuver between Eliza and the approaching men. “Leave her alone,” Fernie cried.
The men shoved the two women aside. Eliza moved to help Charity and Fernie, but from behind her, Aaron Young grabbed her to drag her back through the veil. Keep her safe, at least.
Or so she thought. Instead, he wrenched her arm behind her back. It was a sharp pain, and as she turned, she could see the betrayal in his eyes. He was not here to protect her. He had come as an enemy.
And now she screamed. It was a short cry, aborted by the hand of Aaron Young clamped over her mouth. “I must obey the angel, Eliza.”
Angel? What angel?
Aaron dragged her, kicking, struggling, scratching, toward the door. Like his brother, Stephen Paul, Aaron was a tall man and powerfully built, with muscles built by long hours of farming and ranching. She could not free herself or even get out another scream.
The other men grabbed her legs. Charity and Fernie followed them to the door, punching and pleading. They reached the far door.
“You,” Gideon said to Charity when the struggle had reached the doorway at the far end of the Terrestial Room. “You will come with us.” He yanked back on Charity’s hair. The woman cried out and grabbed at her scalp. The man with the bloody bag at his belt grabbed her feet, while the other punched Fernie in the mouth. Eliza’s sister fell with a muffled grunt.
Eliza stared down in horror at Fernie, lying stunned on the ground. She had never seen a man punch a woman like that. Charity flailed as Gideon yanked her this way and that by the roots of her hair.
“Sorry, Eliza,” Aaron Young said in her ear. “It’s the will of the Lord. We don’t always understand his purposes.”
“You don’t speak for the Lord,” she said.
With Fernie out of the way, the four men dragged Eliza and Charity into the hallway. The women fought back. Eliza felt such hatred and loathing that she thought she would burst. But she was also terrified, and already exhausted by the struggle.
“Leave us alone,” Charity cried. “Elder Kimball—”
Gideon slapped her across the mouth. “My father isn’t in charge here. I am. You, you will be our witness.” He turned to Eliza. “You, well, today is a special day.” He gave her a toothy grin. “The happiest day of your life. Your wedding day.”
#
Jacob and Stephen Paul left Enoch’s body and rushed back through the veil and into the Terrestial Room. Jacob blinked twice in growing confusion. The room was empty. Whatever had happened had ended in seconds. Fernie, Eliza, Charity, and Aaron Young were all gone.
And then he heard a moan from the far side of the room. They found Fernie lying on the carpet near the door, dazed. Jacob felt a twist of fear to see her down, but she was okay. She climbed slowly to her feet.
Fernie wept. “I tried to stop them. They were too strong. What could I do?”
Jacob said, “How many?”
“Three. They came through the door. Gideon Kimball. Israel Young and someone else. A boy.”
Stephen Paul said, “My cousin, Israel. That’s no surprise. But what about my brother? He could have taken Israel. Maybe Gideon, too.” He shook his head and looked around the room as if expecting to find his brother unconscious and bleeding behind some chair.
Jacob had already guessed what had become of Aaron Young, but Fernie confirmed it. “Your brother went with them.” She wiped a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. “Willingly.”
Stephen Paul stared. “I don’t believe it. Not Aaron.”
“Yes, Aaron.” Some of the fear left her voice, replaced by anger. “He grabbed Eliza from behind. Dragged her out of here himself.”
“But my brother? He’s not a Lost Boy.”
Jacob said, “So what? He’s with them. Doesn’t matter why.”
“They took Charity, too,” Fernie said. “Dragged her out by her hair. Bastards.”
Stephen Paul still hadn’t made the connection. “Why Charity?”
Jacob thought he knew. “It’s Taylor Junior’s first marriage. His mother must vouch for his faith and righteousness before the officiator can proceed.” After the first marriage, the senior wife would stand in to give approval.
Stephen Paul said, “But why force it? You said your father had already approved a marriage to Taylor Junior.”
Yes, that was the problem. They had killed Enoch in revenge and escaped without being spotted. There was nothing overt to tie this murder to Taylor Junior, anymore than there had been to link him to the death of Amanda Kimball. So why send Gideon for Eliza? Unless…
His thoughts crystallized in his words. “They didn’t wait because it’s not Taylor Junior who is going to marry Eliza. They’re going to force her to marry Gideon.”
Fernie said, “That doesn’t make sense, Jacob. Charity is not Gideon’s mother.” She frowned. “Or Taylor Junior’s, for that matter.”
“No, their mother is dead. Which means—”
“—that his father’s senior wife must stand in her place,” Fernie completed.
He looked back toward the veil. Behind lay his brother, broken and lifeless. He had to leave Enoch to save his sister. He turned to the others. “There are only three sealing rooms. We can find them quickly. There are four of them, and the three of us plus Eliza and Charity. That makes five.”
“What about Enoch?” Fernie asked. “He’d make six.”
“Enoch won’t be coming.” Jacob tried to wipe emotion from his face.
Fernie studied his face and looked at the blood on his hands and robes. “What happened in there, Jacob? Where is your brother?”
“Not now, Fernie,” Stephen Paul said.
“He didn’t…he isn’t. Your brother…” But then she shook her head and didn’t press further. “Okay, then. But think, Jacob. Three of your five are women. Charity isn’t young. Our enemies will be armed. We won’t stand a chance.”
He thought of the attack in Enoch’s apartment in Las Vegas. He had stood down two men—probably Gideon and Israel. This time he had Stephen Paul on his side, a large, enraged man who could certainly deal with his own brother even if that meant that Jacob had to face the others on his own.
“Simple, Fernie.” He marshaled every ounce of confidence. “We will defeat them because they’re cowards. And their purposes evil. Our cause is righteous.”
“Yes,” said Stephen Paul, his face red and glaring. “For the arms of the wicked shall be broken, but the Lord upholdeth the righteous.”
Sure, thought Jacob, as they left the room. But wasn’t every man the righteous hero of his own story? Did Gideon Kimball, even now, think that he was doing the will of the Lord?
Clumps of Charity’s graying blond hair marked their path to the right. It was the direction of the sealing rooms, as he had guessed. They moved down the hallway, swiftly, but not running. There were branching hallways, and doors to restrooms and the offices of the temple workers. Jacob didn’t want to risk ambush should one of the Lost Boys be waiting behind one of those doors. They had time. The sealing would take several minutes, even if performed quickly.
They passed into the sealing wing. It was a short hallway with three doors that alternated on each side of the hall. Inside the sealing rooms, the couple would kneel across the altar in their temple robes, while the officiator sealed them for time and a
ll eternity. The only higher ordinance was the second anointing, which the prophet performed in the Holy of Holies for the elders in the Quorum of the Twelve.
Jacob put his hand on the first doorknob and gave a slight twist. Unlocked. He looked back at Stephen Paul. Fernie looked afraid, but there was a determined set to her mouth. Stephen Paul gave him a grim nod. Jacob threw open the door and made to charge in. The room was dark. The air inside was still, neutral smelling, and undisturbed.
They went to the second door and tried it. Same result.
By the third door, Jacob’s heart was pounding. He’d had too long to consider this moment. What if there were more of them in the room than Enoch’s three murderers, plus Aaron Young? What if they were armed with more than knives? He flung open the door.
Dark and empty.
“Damn it,” Stephen Paul said.
“I don’t understand,” Fernie said. “Are we wrong?”
Jacob cursed himself for wasting valuable time. He had taken them down this unused passageway, bursting into dark, empty rooms, and all the while the attackers had been fleeing in some other direction. The whole hallway had a stale, unused flavor, although the lights were on. But the lights meant nothing. They’d been switched on for the whole building.
He rethought his assumptions. Jacob had seen clumps of Charity’s hair heading in this direction, as if they’d dragged the woman by her hair. Nothing here, though. He looked down at the carpet, walking up and down the hallway. The carpet was a plush cream.
“What are you looking for?” Stephen Paul asked.
“The murder was a grisly affair. And they took trophies.”
Fernie stopped short. “Murder? You mean they killed Enoch? Oh, I’d hoped…”
He turned, remembering that he’d turned away her questions at first. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Oh Jacob, I’m sorry. And Eliza…” Her voice trailed off. “What do you mean, trophies?”
I agree to have my breast cut open and my hearts and vitals torn out from my body and given to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field.
Righteous - 01 - The Righteous Page 23
