by Rusty Ellis
“We have a false-positive breach across the sensors. Could be an elk. The breach is between four-hundred fifty pounds and five-hundred fifty pounds. The location is between one-quarter and two-quarters south of the Garden.”
“Copy that, Operator.”
“Coincidence?” James responded.
“No such thing. Keep your eyes open and report any movement, but hold your positions.”
The radios went silent. His men were in place, ready, waiting, trained, loyal. Whatever game Harper and the old man were playing was being played out on Viktor's home turf, where he was not only the home team, but the referee.
Welcome, Mr. Harper. We’ve been waiting for you.
47
The low-light and trees messed with Chase’s senses in detecting direct north. If he strayed too far to the right, he would drift back into the sensors and his natural weight would send an alert requiring a response by HLC security staff. If he drifted too far to the left, he could miss the cabin altogether and end up having to backtrack. Either would expose himself to more opportunities for the polo’s bumping into him.
He paused and picked a discernible spot just above the tree line as an anchor point. He moved toward the point, lifting his head to check his bearings every five to ten steps—a tedious but confident practice.
Based on the time spent with Martin along the perimeter earlier that morning, Chase was confident he was deep enough into the property to keep from running into a polo guy head-on. Each time he checked his bearings, he listened to the surrounding forest, ensuring he didn’t collide with the night’s patrol.
Looking at his watch, Chase could see it had been approximately three minutes since dropping the bags and starting his march north. Gauging his entry halfway down the HLC property, he knew the cabin perimeter was about one-third of a mile north of him. At his current speed, he should reach the cabin in roughly 10 minutes.
He checked his bearings once more and listened intently. A light breeze flowed through the tops of the trees and masked his movements. The same could be said of any security out on patrol. His only advantage was he was actively avoiding them, while they were on routine patrol. His senses heightened, their senses on autopilot. He liked his odds versus theirs.
48
The beanbag was more comfortable than Megan had expected. In any other situation she would have drifted off to sleep already, giving way to the Sandman and his control of her dreams. But the smell of the room and the purr and hiss of Adam sleeping less than six-feet away had kept the Sandman fitfully at bay. He wasn’t welcome.
At first, she laid awake, expecting to hear Adam slip from his bed and shuffle across the rug to where she was laying. But oddly enough, he’d kept his word. He didn’t push her. He kept their time together in the Holy Garden civil. She didn’t believe Adam’s action were consistent with what was going on in his head. His eyes were like looking through the wrong side of a peephole in a door; you could see movement in the house, just not what the person was actually doing—or planning for.
The thought hung in Megan’s mind as her body gave in to the soft texture of the beanbags fabric, surrounding her, pulling her into its cocoon. She closed her eyes and replayed the past few day’s events. Sneaking through the woods to the Garden to find Haley and getting caught. Pushing past Anna to be chosen by Adam. And now, in Adam’s room, in the same cabin as Haley, feet from where she was sleeping on the other side of the bedroom wall.
How did we get here? How did we go from work and school and our normal lives, to this?
Megan took in a breath and held it before letting it out slowly, then another, her eyes dancing back and forth behind her eyelids…
“Discard your worldly goods, that which belongs to the world,” Adam addressed the nine new Community members. Megan had watched as the new members excitedly stripped themselves of their jewelry, wallets, and purses, and handed them to an eager looking t-shirt and jean clad woman. She took the items with one hand and dropped them into a white cotton pillowcase held in her other hand. The bag quickly gained weight and bulged from the discarded items.
“Does the world still claim you, my children?” the nine—including her—looked at each other, unsure of the reason for Adam’s rebuke.
Adam smiled and stepped to the person closest to him and took her by the hands, “Does the world care for you the way I care for you?”
Adam looked deep into the woman’s eyes, causing tears to surface on her face and run down her cheeks. He then turned to the others and made eye contact, one at a time, and settled last on Megan.
Another assistant appeared with pads of paper and pens and began handing them out to the nine. Adam released the woman’s hands so she could receive a pad and pen.
“It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a worldly person to get into heaven,” Adam paused and looked around the group again. “What of the world still owns you, children? All that you are, will be, can be, belongs to the Lord. Do you believe that, my children?”
Megan hesitated then joined the bobbing heads. She would believe anything. Anything that would bring her information about Haley. Anything that pointed her toward where her daughter was being held, or where he daughter was being brainwashed by this group.
“You have a choice to make. Yes, a choice. Give all and crawl through the eye of the needle and into the presence of Him, or gather your things and return to the world,” Adam turned from the group and dipped his head toward the ground. When he turned back, there were tears on his cheeks, flowing from his eyes into his beard.
“You can’t follow me and hold on to the world. You can’t serve two masters. Either follow me now and lose the world’s chains, or embrace the world and blanket yourselves in its vanity and vices.”
Adam took a step closer, his tears clearer to each person in the group. He stepped to the first woman again and asked, “Who will you follow, child?”
She answered, “You, Adam.”
He turned to the next closest person and repeated, “Who will you follow, child?”
The same response.
“Who will you follow, child,” was repeated seven more times with the same result—including Megan’s answer, You, Adam.
“You will be blessed. He will hear your commitment as I have heard your commitment. From this day forward, He will call you His own, His sheep. You have joined the fold, you are taking the eternal step through the eye of the needle this day and basking in the glory of my presence,” Adam raised his arms from his sides, clad in his robe and sash. He looked around at the new Community members one last time, pausing on each member, then turned and departed from the group.
The woman who was holding the bag now had a stack of papers in her hand and instructed, “On the pad, write any and all information about yourself related to the world. Adam has asked us to guide you through the eye of the needle. To do this, and secure your place within the fold, we will need everything you can recall about your connections to the world.”
The inducted Community members began to write frantically on the pads in their hands. The room remained quiet as they scribbled onto their pads. The woman with the papers interrupted the follower’s writing and held up a stapled packet of papers from the top of the larger stack in her other hand.
“This may help you cleanse the information from your souls. Sign the second page as a testament to the world that it no longer has a hold on your eternal progression and destination.”
The woman handed out a stapled copy of the two pages to each follower and repeated, “Bless you.”
Megan reached out and took a copy of the papers. Looking at the first page, it resembled an application of sorts.
Name.
Date of Birth.
Social Security Number.
Address (home).
Address (mailing).
Married (yes or no).
Spouse’s Name.
Spouse’s location (Still in the World - With me now - Already here).
Primary Bank and Account (checking).
Primary Bank and Account (savings).
Secondary Bank (savings/checking).
Life Insurance policy (yes or no).
The list continued in the same vein, covering every bit of personal and financial information possible. The form requested PIN numbers, account numbers, policy numbers, computer usernames and passwords, and a box at the end of the form for “Anything Worldly We May Have Missed”.
Megan hesitated to fill out the forms and looked around to the others. Each new follower had transitioned to the printed pages and was scribbling frantically.
Is anything worth more to me in the world than Haley?
The answer was simple. She owned nothing more valuable than her daughter. Megan scribbled enough basic information onto the first page of the form to sink her financially and seal her membership into the Community. She finished by adding her car to the bottom of the form, including the license plate number, make, model, and color.
She stared at the page, her ticket almost punched to join the Community and continue her search for Haley. She flipped to the second page of the form and read the title of the page, “Last Will and Testament (State of Idaho)”.
Megan filled in her name on the top of the form, bequeathing all that she owned to “HLC Limited”. She looked at the empty signature line on the bottom of the page next to a short line for the date. Megan closed her eyes and took a deep breath, what little she’d worked for in life was now being handed over to the Holy Light Community.
The woman in charge of the paperwork made her rounds through the group and gathered up the stapled papers, notepads, and pens from the followers. She reached Megan last and smiled as she accepted Megan’s information.
The woman turned to another woman standing close by, “Sister, would you give them their cabin assignments and Community assignments?”
The woman nodded and looked down at a pad of notes she was holding. Megan’s mind raced until she thought she heard her name.
“Sister Megan?” she asked. “Sister Megan?”
“Here,” Megan answered and tentatively raised a hand.
“You are assigned to serve the Community in the dining hall. You will follow Sister Allison to your assigned housing,” she gestured to the woman who had originally collected their personal items.
Megan nodded and made eye contact with the woman. Megan wondered what these two women had done to earn their assignment. Assigned to take everything a person owned in order to join their Community. Assigned to strip the new members of every worldly item they owned.
As her father would have said, “They must be knee deep in the Kool-aid.”
“Are you ready, sister,” Megan felt a gentle touch on her forearm and looked up to see Sister Allison smiling at her.
“Yes, sister,” Megan smiled.
Yes, sister. I’m ready to find my daughter and bring her home!
A moaning sound snapped Megan back to the present. She raised her head and saw Adam roll over in his bed, dragging a pillow with him and wedging it between his shoulder and the headboard.
Megan lowered her head and closed her eyes. She would need to get some sleep tonight. She needed her energy—mind and body. She had a one-hour window to enact her plan, the one-hour when Adam was performing in the morning at the Enlightenment Circle.
That short window was her only chance to reach Haley, convince her to leave, and for the both of them to slip out through Adam’s room, across the property border and to freedom—or so it seemed.
Megan couldn’t be sure about how Haley would react to seeing her in the Garden, not to mention finding out her mother had spent the night in the Holy Garden. She expected a rapid-fire succession of questions, depending on which version of Haley she was talking to. Haley before the HLC would dig in her heels and require answers before moving an inch forward. She had no idea how Haley would react now that she was so entrenched in the Community.
Megan pictured three possible outcomes to her plan: one, Haley agreed and the two of them fled successfully off the property; two, Haley refused to leave and wanted Megan to stay as well; and three, Haley refused to leave and insisted her mother flee and leave her there.
There is a fourth option, Megan considered.
Megan throwing a right-cross just behind Haley’s ear, stunning and hopefully knocking her out, throwing Haley over her shoulder, and then lugging Haley through the Holy Garden and off property. The question being would she be willing to strike and daze her daughter to save her.
Absolutely.
Out of the four options, Megan could see only two were viable—one and four. The two other options were, well, not options at all. When the time came, she would have to “choose” the outcome. Megan smiled at the thought. “Choice”—her brother Chase’s words rang in her ears.
Choice, not chance, Sis. Take control of the outcome or let someone else decide for you.
If any situation called for her brother’s advice, it was now, or at least in the morning during Enlightenment.
Her last two concerns, which became a concern if her plan worked out, was security. Not alerting them to her and Haley’s departure and whether they would pursue them beyond the property borders.
Even with Adam and his personal bodyguard gone, there would still be a guard present on the porch during his absence. Fortunately, Adam’s ego extended to not allowing anyone else to have contact with the girls except him. The fourth option would cause a panic among the girls, more than likely causing one of them to run to get the guard’s help.
As for following them across the border, she didn’t have an answer. She would deal with that when and if it became an issue.
Megan focused on her two plans. She envisioned the living room and her first contact with Haley. Her need to keep Haley calm, or at least as calm as possible. And then improvising base on Haley’s reaction. She ran through both scenarios in her mind, one then the other, not enjoying the image of striking her daughter.
Megan gave way to the night and began to slip into a shallow sleep.
Choice, not chance. Save Haley…
49
“I have movement.”
Viktor recognized James’ voice over his earpiece and responded, “Thomas, move toward the front porch of the Garden and post up.”
“Roger, that.”
“It looks like Harper,” James reported, “he’s crossing in front of me and headed toward you, Martin. And he’s alone.”
“Roger, that,” Martin answered.
Viktor turned his head and strained to get a bead on Harper coming their direction. The radio went silent as Viktor patiently waited for an update.
Martin said, “It’s Harper, alright. He’s headed north, toward the Garden.”
“After he passes, backtrack and set up with Thomas on the Garden porch,” James ordered.
“Roger, that.”
Viktor alerted to the faint sound of brush cracking to his right.
The sounds moved closer as Viktor continued to watch for visual confirmation of his target. A ghostly shadow emerged from the trees, a synchronization of movement and the sounds of snapping debris under Harper’s boots and brushing against his shins.
Hello, Mr. Harper.
Viktor looked directly at Harper’s hands. Empty. The fool had come onto his property—a failed covert operation—and didn’t have a weapon in his hands. It didn’t mean Harper didn’t have access to a weapon somewhere on his person, all indications pointed toward an extraction versus an assault.
An extraction focused on retrieving a person with as little threat to the party as possible. It would be different if it were an assault, a smash and grab, an explosion of force and action meant to overwhelm and ignore casualties beyond your target.
An assault would have little regard for lives in that way. Not always the case, but if taking out Adam were the case, bodies leading up to and departing from Adam would not be an issue or a hindrance.
Harper
was weaving through the woods at a steady pace, not fast and loose, controlled and focused. The only question was, Who was his target?
Soon enough, soon enough, Viktor assured himself.
Harper’s actions were a more personal affront to Viktor’s command and security. He thought little of the girls and losing one of them to the “world” as Adam called it. For that matter, he thought even less of Adam. The man was his employer. Viktor was simply protecting his job by protecting Adam. The followers deserved their places at the HLC. Viktor never quite understood their passive choice to remove themselves from society and join the Community. He assumed something was missing in their lives that Adam could capitalize on. And capitalize Adam did.
A twig snapped behind Viktor and to his right. He glanced over his shoulder and saw James maneuvering closer to his position. James covered the last few feet and took a knee next to Viktor.
“What do you think?” James whispered.
“He’s here to extract someone.”
“Who?”
Viktor shrugged.
“We’ll soon find out,” Viktor responded and slowly stood.
Viktor waited for Harper to get 20 yards ahead of him and began his slow pursuit, followed by James five yards behind him. Viktor mirrored Harper’s steps and occasional pauses. He could hear James doing the same.
Harper reached the edge of the Garden clearing and paused. Viktor waited for him to move and continue toward the front porch. To Viktor’s surprise, instead of going left, Harper went right, toward the back of the Garden and nearer Adam’s room.
Viktor raised his weapon and waited for Harper to move before taking several quick steps to close the distance. Harper disappeared momentarily around the corner of the Garden. Viktor moved perpendicular to the corner and looked down the barrel of his M400 for Harper to reappear. Harper was crouched down at the corner of the porch connected to Adam’s room. Viktor slowly crouched as well, keeping the front sight of his weapon trained on the core of Harper’s body. He kept his finger alongside the trigger guard, waiting for cause to bend the tip of his forefinger and reach the trigger.
