Between the Heaves of Storm

by V. J. Chambers

  He ignored my questions. “I don’t understand what’s wrong. Someone’s blocking me. Someone’s dismantling my power. It’s got to be Kieran. He and the OF are screwing with me. I had a dream about him last night. He called me names and kicked me.”

  “Who’s Kieran?” I said.

  Jason grabbed my hands. “Joan, I really did mean for this place to be a good place. I really did just want people to be happy and free. Do you believe me?”

  I looked into his big dark eyes. I felt like I was drowning in them. I smiled. “I do believe you. I think you do want to do good things, Jason. But I don’t think that rows of severed heads on sticks are doing any kind of good for anybody.”

  He yanked his hands back. “Those trials are for you. I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Do all those people have to die? Can all of them really be after me?”

  Jason got out of bed. “Well, I can’t chance it. If there’s any possibility, I have to be sure—”

  “Jason, are you saying that some of those people you killed might not have been guilty?”

  He gazed at me from the foot of the bed. “I did it for you. I love you more than life itself. Do you understand that?”

  “You don’t have to kill people to show me you love me.”

  “I have to keep you safe.”

  I patted the spot next to me on the bed. “But who’s keeping you safe? What is killing all of those people doing to you? And who’s keeping the families of all of those dead people safe? What are you doing, Jason?”

  He sat down next to me, hanging his head. “It’s hard,” he whispered. “I told them all that I would lead them. That I knew what I was doing. I made them surrender to me. But sometimes I’m not sure what the best thing to do is.”

  “You need advice.” I put my arm around him and snuggled close. “You can’t get advice if you’re controlling everyone’s minds.”

  He pulled away. “My power isn’t completely gone, you know. I’m still controlling your mind. That’s why you’re being nice to me.”

  “So stop,” I said. “Don’t control me anymore.”

  “What if you leave?”

  “What if I don’t? We won’t know unless you let me decide, Jason.”

  He pulled me close. “One more night together,” he said. “If I’m losing my power anyway, it can’t hurt to exhaust myself.” His fingers eased under the hem of my shirt.

  I gasped at the sensation of his touch on my bare skin. It had been a while since we’d made love.

  * * *

  ~joan~

  It was dark outside. Jason was snoring gently next to me. And something had woken me. I struggled to open my eyes. Above me was a shadowy figure. My first inclination was fear, but the figure whispered, “It’s just me.”

  I sat up. “Tessa?” I whispered. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you,” she said.

  Careful not to wake Jason, I eased out of bed and led her out of the bedroom. We padded down the steps and into the living room. I lit a kerosene lamp and had her sit down in one of Jason’s easy chairs. I sat down opposite her, on the couch. “What’s up?”

  “It’s Garth.”

  Garth. Jesus, I’d completely forgotten about him. How could I have done that? Was that more of Jason’s mind control powers? Making me not think about an entire person? “What about Garth?”

  “He’s going to be on trial in two days.”

  “But why?” I couldn’t figure it out. There was no way that Garth had ever worked for the OF. Why would Jason think that he had? I remembered the fact that he’d said that some of the people he’d killed might have been innocent. I shuddered.

  “Why are any of those people on trial, Joan?” Tessa dug her fingernails into the arms of the chair. “They can’t all be trying to kill you.”

  I swallowed. “I know. I tried to talk to him about it.”

  Tessa laughed hollowly. “Did it work?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. Were his powers completely not working right now? Last time he’d been...exhausted, they’d turned off. That would mean that I was completely in my right mind right now. If he trusted me to stay with him, then maybe Jason was ready to listen to my advice. “I hope so. I want the trials to end.”

  “You have to save Garth.” Tessa chewed on her lip. “He’s my brother. I can’t let anything happen to him. And for the life of me, I don’t know why I haven’t even given him a thought in weeks.” Her face twisted, like she was going to start crying.

  I went to her, giving her a hug. “It’s not your fault. It’s Jason. He has this power over our minds. He makes us happy and at peace all the time. Anything that might upset you, you just haven’t been thinking about.”

  Tessa pushed me away. “He’s controlling our brains?” She sounded horrified.

  “Well, how else did you think you felt so perfectly happy all the time?”

  “I thought...” She shook her head. “I didn’t think I was being brainwashed.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “How come I can think about Garth now?”

  “Someone’s doing something to Jason’s powers. He’s weakened. He can’t give everyone peace and joy right now.”

  Tessa folded her arms over her chest and hugged herself. “I don’t think I want to feel peace and joy when there are severed heads lining the road to my house. I think there’s something really fucked up about that.”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “He’s not really a very nice person, is he?”

  “Who?”

  “Jason. He’s kind of insane, isn’t he?”

  I sat back down on the couch, rubbing my neck with one hand. “Maybe that’s a little harsh. I mean, he is doing good. He’s created this community where everyone works together and—”

  “And you’re cock whipped.” Tessa looked disgusted.

  I cleared my throat. “We haven’t really been intimate all that often, actually. It’s not really like that.”

  Tessa shrugged. “He cares about you. You’re important to him. So you can make him not hurt Garth. Promise me you will. You’ll save Garth.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Not good enough. Convince Jason not to hurt my brother. I can’t lose Garth. I just can’t.”

  “Look,” I said. “I’m sure once Jason realizes that Garth isn’t working for the OF, he’ll let Garth go. Jason isn’t unreasonable, you know.”

  “He’s killed like thirty people in the past week,” said Tessa. “That seems kind of unreasonable to me.”

  She was right. Could I trust Jason? Furthermore, what if when I woke up tomorrow, Jason’s powers were back, and I couldn’t convince him of anything? What if Tessa and I watched Garth be executed and didn’t even feel bad about it? The thought of that made me feel sick to my stomach. “I’ll make him understand. He won’t hurt Garth. I won’t let him.”

  Tessa stood up. “You better not let me down.”

  I stood up too. “I’ll do everything I can.”

  Tessa started out of the living room, towards the door. Then she paused and turned back to me. “Joan, did we do the right thing coming here? Is this place a good place?”

  I didn’t know what to say. “Jason’s a good man. I feel it. Inside him, deep down, he’s good.”

  Tessa raised her eyebrows. “Maybe it’s down too deep to be of much use to us.” She swept out the front door, yanking it closed behind her.

  I hoped she wasn’t right.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ~joan~

  Jason pounded down the stairs.

  Startled, I ran to him. “What’s wrong?”

  His eyes were wide. “I heard the door close. I thought you left.”

  “I’m still here,” I said.

  Jason went around me to the door. He opened it and looked outside. Shutting it, he turned back to me. “You heard me come down the steps and came back inside.”

  I shook my head. “No. It was Tessa. She came to talk to me. She left. I’m still h
ere.”

  He snorted. “You expect me to believe that? If Tessa was here, why didn’t I see her walking away?”

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t. Maybe she’d already made it back to the A-frame. “But it’s okay, Jason. Calm down. She wants me to talk to you about something. You remember that when Tessa and I got here, we came with a guy named Garth?”

  “What do I have to do to keep you here?” Jason paced in front of the door. “Do I have to tie you up?”

  Tie me...what? “Jason, you’re kind of freaking me out here.”

  Jason advanced on me, eyes flashing. “I’m freaking you out, huh? Because you’re freaking me out. You’re lying to me.”

  I backed away from him, remembering what Lori had said to me, about bruises. “I’m not lying.”

  Jason grabbed one of my arms and squeezed. He pulled me close to him so that our faces were inches apart. “I won’t let you leave me.”

  “You’re hurting me.” My voice was breathless and high-pitched. I sounded frightened. I was frightened. I’d never seen Jason like this. What was going on with him?

  He released me and emitted a caustic laugh. “Oh, I’m hurting you, am I? What do you think you’re doing to me? Getting up in the middle of the night? Sneaking away? Leaving me all by myself again?” He crossed the room to a bookshelf against the wall. “I can’t do it again, Azazel. I can’t live without you again. Not after having you back.” He grasped the edge of the bookshelf with book hands and heaved.

  It toppled over, books flying and hitting the ground in a thunder of thuds.

  I jumped and wrapped my arms around myself. I wanted to disappear. “Jason, please—”

  “Jason, please,” he mocked me, cocking his head to one side, his voice ugly.

  This wasn’t good. Maybe Tessa was right. Maybe whatever good part of Jason existed too deeply inside him to be trusted. Maybe he was swallowed by whatever darkness controlled him. After all, a man who made a community of people do whatever he wanted because he couldn’t get people to love him in real life was not exactly a stable person. What was I going to do? I looked from the toppled bookshelf to Jason, his eyes blazing.

  And I knew suddenly, that I needed to get out of there. Now. I ran for the door.

  Jason was faster. He caught me before I made it five feet.

  He clutched my shoulders, digging his fingers into my arms. “I knew you were trying to leave. Everyone always leaves me.”

  Staring at his wild expression, I thought I understood why. I shook my head. “I wasn’t. I was talking to Tessa. You imprisoned Garth, her brother. And he’s not working for the OF. I’m sure of it. But now...” Should I admit it? What would he do if I did? “Yes. Now, I want to leave.”

  For a second, his fingers dug deeper into my shoulders. I winced at the pain. Then he let his arms drop, looking defeated. He stepped out of my way. “Go.”

  Okay, good. He wasn’t going to hurt me or try to force me. I walked past him to the door. As soon as I let the door clatter behind me, and I was standing in the summer night air, I started to cry. I managed to make a few steps before I sat down on the ground and began to sob in earnest. I’d spent time trying to defend Jason to Tessa, claiming he was a good man. And then he’d frightened me. Jason very well might be psychotic. And, even though it was probably only because he’d been controlling my mind, Jason was the only important thing in my life. I’d told him I wanted to leave, but I felt lost now. What was I going to do? Was I going to walk out of Jasontown? Where would I go?

  The more I thought like that, the harder I sobbed.

  The door of Jason’s house opened. Jason came out and sat down beside me. “Joan,” he said. “I shouldn’t have...”

  He put a tentative hand on my back. He gently patted me.

  I probably should have pulled away. I probably should have gotten up and ran away. But. I didn’t.

  We sat together outside his house for some time. Jason put his arm around me. I lay my head on his shoulder. Eventually, my sobs quieted. I somehow knew, in that moment, that I’d made my choice, no matter how wrong or stupid it was. I could have left. I didn’t. I was here. I was going to stay with him. Maybe that made me an idiot. But there was something about Jason. Something besides the mind control business. He felt right to me. Every part of my rational brain screamed at me that he was wrong. And yet my gut told me otherwise. My heart told me otherwise.

  “What did you say the name of Tessa’s brother was?” Jason finally asked.

  “Garth,” I said.

  “Okay,” said Jason. “We’ll find him tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” I whispered. I wrapped my arms tightly around him. “Let’s go back to bed.”

  * * *

  ~kieran~

  I woke up one morning to find out that Eve had taken all my clothes to wash them. There were washers and dryers that ran on a generator that the entire community of Bramford used. Everyone had a scheduled time that they got to use them. That day was Eve’s day. She said she wouldn’t get a chance to do laundry again for a month, and so it was important that she get all of our clothes washed. I could see her logic, but I was a little annoyed, because it meant I had nothing to wear except what I’d worn to bed. It had been particularly hot the night before, and so I’d gone to sleep in only my boxers.

  Eve lent me a robe and told me to go look through her grandfather’s old clothes to see if any of them would fit. (Cameron’s clothes wouldn’t fit me, or I would have just taken them.) Then she went to do laundry. Eve’s grandfather’s clothes were kept on the top level of the house in a closet off one of the guest rooms. The house was stuffy and hot up there. Within about ten minutes, I’d shed the robe because it was way too hot to wear.

  I wasn’t crazy about wearing old man clothes, but I also didn’t want to run around in my boxers or the really hot robe, so I told myself to suck it up, and I began going through the clothes hanging in the closet. There were eight or ten leisure suits with huge lapels, all made of polyester, and at least twenty other suits, most far too hot to consider wearing. None of the summer clothes seemed to be hanging up. I noticed a few boxes on the floor of the closet. Grunting and sweating, I pushed aside clothes on hangers to look at them. They weren’t labeled, so I had to open them up. One had sweaters in it. I pushed it to the back of the closet. Another had baby clothes. I pulled it out to see if anything in it would fit Chance. Finally, I found a box that had t-shirts in it. Most of them were kind of horrible. One had a train on it. Another was from Bermuda. One said, “I’d rather be fishing.” Finally, I found a few plain t-shirts in basic colors. I put them aside.

  I was really hot and a little exhausted at that point, so I sat down on the floor and glared into the closet. Was I going to be doomed to wearing a t-shirt and polyester leisure pants? In the back of the closet, I spied another box, this one with writing on it. I could make out the letters “S-H-O-R-T.” Shorts! I thought. I yanked the box out.

  But instead the box said, “Shorty’s journals.” No luck. I opened it anyway, kind of curious as to who this Shorty was. Was Eve’s grandfather named Shorty? Inside the box were stacks of composition style notebooks—the ones with the black and white marble pattern on the front. They were dated. One said, “1991.” I opened it up.

  The handwriting was even and carefully lettered by a black pen. It was easy to read. And so I started to read.

  Michaela Weem is a curse on this community. The Joneses are merely her puppets, willing to convince anyone to do whatever she says. And what’s worse, everyone seems to be following along, towing the line she’s passing down to everyone that some dangerous agent of order is going to destroy the world. I’m appalled.

  Huh. Michaela Weem was Jason’s mother. She’d influenced the community of Satanists in Bramford to groom Azazel to kill Jason. I’d never known that there had been any resistance. And the Joneses must be Azazel’s parents. I was intrigued. I got comfortable and continued to read.

  When I spoke out in the coven recently, I
was accused of only doing so because I was angry at having been usurped as leader of the coven. This outraged me. After all, the entire idea of our coven is that there is no leader. We function without orders and rules. It is our place. Chaos. We live chaos in service of our Infernal Lord Azazel. He is the symbol of rebellion and of independence. I would never presume to lead anyone. I am completely against the idea of leading.

  No matter, however. The coven couldn’t care less. They have been seduced by Michaela Weem’s arguments that we are an important part of the fight against order. I want to scream at them that they are betraying their heritage and everything that we believe by following this woman, but no one is listening to me anymore.

  They claim we must prepare a vessel for the essence of Azazel, and that when the time is right, he will fill this vessel and strike down the agent of order, allowing chaos to reign again. What they don’t understand is that chaos and order cannot survive without one another. We reject the oppressive force of order, preferring the natural force of chaos, certainly. But we do not impose chaos on the world. To do so would be oppressive. Furthermore, there is evidence in our own ancient writings about the Vessel of Azazel that the vessel’s role will be to join with the agent of order, not destroy it. The power of order and chaos must unite. Only then will paradise on earth occur.

  This is the sacred belief we have held to for centuries. Now, we are being infiltrated by sensationalist Satanists. They want rituals and upside-down crosses. They don’t recognize that ours is an ancient quest, a journey to embrace the flesh, the world, and the physical. It is not about destruction, but about elevating the body to the same level as the spirit, about recognizing our desires as the force that points the way to enlightenment. Desires are to be celebrated and indulged, not squelched. When this truth can be melded with the discipline of order, true balance will be achieved.

  A bead of sweat dripped down my nose and spattered onto the journal. I shut it. I really needed to be looking for clothes, not reading in the sweltering heat. I resumed searching and eventually found a box of shorts. They were pretty horrible and made for old men, but they fit, so I headed back down stairs and put on my new clothes. I brought the journal along, thinking I might read it later on the back porch where it was cooler.