“I don’t know, but it isn’t good. There’s a gate up ahead. It’s usually locked, but Lexy’s opened it. She also disabled the camera system that covers the gate and the road to the main buildings.”
We all held our breath as we passed through the gate. I don’t know what we were expecting, but the silence remained unbroken.
Josh let out a shaky breath. “Okay, where to?” he asked.
Sumner seemed incapable of finding his voice, so I answered for him. “Veer left, see that rough track? Follow that. It will bring us around to the other side of the main buildings. About half a mile from where they’re gathering. We’ll have to walk from there.”
Josh looked at Sumner and he bobbed his head in agreement. He swung left and we disappeared into the trees.
“They’re going to strap her to a horse cart,” Sumner wheezed, and the anxiety in his voice made me squeeze his hand. “Then strip her and paint her with lamb’s blood.”
“What the hell is the deal with the lamb’s blood, anyway?” Josh muttered, but he didn’t seem to expect an answer and he didn’t get one.
“The Priests are distracted. They’re all together, and they’re focused on Ora. That’s all good,” Sumner said. “But . . . aw . . . shit.”
“What?” Josh asked.
“He’s here.”
“Who?” Josh persisted.
“Don’t speak his name!” I hissed at Sumner. “You don’t want to call him.”
“Oh man,” Sumner moaned. “Oh, that’s such bad news.”
“He’s the High Priest,” I explained to Josh.
“He’s one scary mo-fo,” Sumner added. He leaned his forehead against the back of the seat and took some deep, ragged breaths. “Okay . . . okay . . . okay . . . I can do this.” He was panting like the little engine that couldn’t. “Okay . . . okay . . . okay!”
His head popped up and he gripped my hand convulsively. “What would the corn dog do, right, homegirl?” His grin looked more like a scream.
“That’s right.” I squeezed his hand in return. His fear was infectious, and I swallowed hard.
“We’re just about there,” I said to Josh. “That big tree is about as far as we’ll get by car.”
Josh pulled up to it and turned the Suburban around so it was facing back toward the gate. He killed the engine and we waited in the ticking silence while he strapped on his vest and weapons.
“What’s the plan?” I finally asked.
“We gonna keel us some honkies and we gonna keel them slooow,” Sumner wheezed.
Josh patted Sumner on the back. “It’s called ‘winging it.’ Let’s get close and see what’s going on.” He hopped out of the car and unlatched the back gate to let me out.
“Why are you smiling?” The smile was more murdery than agreeable, but still. My heart was lodged in my throat and my bladder was screaming.
“It’s called testosterone,” Josh answered.
“Mix it with adrenaline and you’ve got yourself a Molotov cocktail of kick-ass macho awesomeness!” Sumner did a couple of spastic karate chops, quite hampered by the fact that he was in the backseat of a Suburban. Josh snorted.
“Men are weird,” I muttered.
Josh lifted my shirt and pulled on the straps of my vest, making sure they were tight enough. “That’s what makes us lovable, though. Right?”
I looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile. “Right.”
Sumner appeared beside him. “Hurry it up. You wanna live forever?” His attempt at John Wayne came out sounding more like Mickey Mouse.
“Stay near me,” Josh whispered, squeezing my arms. “And don’t do anything stupid.”
“Always with the compliments.” I followed him out into the night.
We fell in line behind Josh. He moved with grace through the dark forest, while Sumner and I tripped over roots and walked face first into low-lying branches and spiderwebs.
“In which the ninja master leads his bumbling sidekicks into battle,” Sumner narrated, sotto voce.
I elbowed him. “Shh!” And then tripped over an unseen tree root and fell into Josh’s back.
“My point.” Sumner snickered nervously.
“Can it, you two,” Josh hissed. A few minutes later, he reached back and grabbed my hand, pulling me forward to stand beside him. He was pointing at a gap in the trees.
“Yup, that’s them,” Sumner whispered.
Several hundred yards away, a crowd had gathered in the flickering torchlight. They cast tall, ghoul-like shadows up against the wall of the main building. They were milling around with hushed excitement.
“How many, do you think? Five-fifty? Six hundred?” Josh asked.
“Yeah, about that,” I answered.
“That’s way more than usual for The Ranch. A lot of adults, too. Father Narda said they were gathering in the troops,” Sumner said.
“So the adults are Disciples?” Josh asked.
“And Chosen. I don’t see any Priests. Do you, Ryanne?”
“How would I know?” I asked, feeling testy for reasons I couldn’t explain.
Sumner wouldn’t take the bait. “They’re wearing the white robes. Except for Narda and . . . the other one, who are wearing the crimson robes of the High Priests. Good target practice, right Josh?”
“There are a lot of children,” Josh objected.
“Yeah. And see those windows?” Sumner pointed at the main building. “There’s a bunch of new kids up there, stashed in a converted classroom. Looks like they got them without my help.”
“So that’s where Leora Wylie would be,” Josh mused.
“Yup.”
I could see Josh’s mind ticking through the possibilities and coming to the same conclusion I had. There was no way we could get those kids off The Ranch by ourselves.
“I guess she’s safe enough. For now. But the ones down here, we need to be careful. I don’t want any of them getting hurt.”
“Of course,” I agreed. My eyes were scanning the crowd, searching for a child with red hair. Boy or girl? No matter what else happened, I was leaving The Ranch with my baby.
“I’m talking to you, Sumner. I don’t want you going off half cocked.”
“I’m always fully cocked. That’s why the ladies like me. Besides, my aim is getting much better,” he said, and then pointed. “That’s Lexy. What the hell, man . . .”
“What?” I asked.
“She’s wearing a red robe.” He was clearly stunned.
I spotted a small woman with a cloud of dark curls. If not for the robe, I might have mistaken her for one of the children. She turned, and her gaze fell directly on us. It wasn’t more than a heartbeat before she turned casually away, but the message was clear enough; she knew we were there.
“She’s an Amante?” I gasped. My stomach did a slow, nauseating roll.
Sumner was shaking his head. “That can’t be. She’s one of the Chosen . . .”
“Never mind that now. Do you see Phoenix anywhere?” Josh asked.
“Um, yeah. He’s the guy hanging from the stockade.”
“What!” I hissed, and then saw what he was talking about. How could I have missed him? He was hanging several feet off the ground, splayed against the wooden fence on the far side of the clearing. He was dangling by his hands, which were bound to the wood above his head, and he certainly didn’t look comfortable. With his white-blond hair and pale skin, he looked like he was performing in an Aryan version of the story of Jesus. I doubted Jesus had looked quite so monumentally pissed, though.
“Here they come,” Sumner said.
I heard the chanting before I saw them.
“They come with the blood sacrifice,” I whispered.
“And the Faithful shall bear witness,” Sumner added.
“The family will rise as one ag
ainst the Blasphemare.”
“And strike them down with the mighty sword,” Sumner finished.
“Jesus Christ,” Josh said, clearly horrified.
“Don’t think he’s anywhere near this action, bro,” Sumner said.
The Priests formed a ring around the horse cart as they moved into the crowd. The two High Priests led the way, their crimson robes glimmering in the torchlight. The crowd parted before them, picking up the solemn chant and echoing it back to the Fathers. They reached the center of the yard and the cart stilled. With the precision of a well-timed ballet, the Priests stepped away from the cart. They fanned out like the wings of a butterfly opening to the night.
“That’s Father Narda,” Sumner said. “The one on the right.”
“I know,” I replied, but my gaze was on the girl. The girl in chains, laid bare and dripping blood from her flesh. Even her hair had been matted with blood. In the torchlight she sparkled like a ruby.
On the wind, I caught the collective sigh of the family. I could feel it, too. It electrified my skin and pounded through my veins. In some dreadful way, she was breathtakingly beautiful. She was ripe flesh and dripping blood, glorious in her courtship with death.
“And their children shall rise against them. With fire and with water will the battle commence,” Sumner breathed, just as the first stones flew.
“What?” I turned to him, but he was gone. He ran straight out of the shelter of the trees and bounded toward the crowd, screaming like a Scottish warrior doing the Highland charge. In other words, he went off half cocked.
“Well, shit,” I said, and followed him.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
The flames burst forth with an explosion of light and heat that knocked me to my knees. One moment I was running for the crowd, Sumner in front of me and Josh somewhere behind me, and the next I was sliding across the rough earth like Jackie Robinson trying to steal home.
Josh tumbled over the top of me and came down hard on his stomach, managing to kick me in the face with one big shoe on his way down.
“Safe!” I muttered, rolling onto my side and shielding my eyes. The world was insanely bright. And hot.
I pulled myself upright and stumbled directly into the stampede of people fleeing the flames. They pushed me backward and knocked me flat. Someone’s booted foot came down hard on my arm. Another tore across my abdomen, pounding me into the ground. I bellowed like a wounded boar.
And then Josh was there, pulling me to my feet and tucking me up against his side. His arm formed a vise around my waist, lifting my feet off the ground. He plunged forward like a battering ram, knocking people out of the way.
We broke into a clearing and stopped, hampered by the wall of flames that rose toward the sky with insatiable hunger. It encircled the woman on the cart, a perfect barricade. I caught glimpses of her within the inferno. A red goddess. Her eyes were closed against the blaze, her muscles taut and straining against her bindings.
The roar was deafening. The Priests ran about, their white robes flapping in the hot wind, yelling and gesticulating wildly.
One of them got close enough for me to hear him yell. “Ashlyn . . . out!” And then he was gone in a swirl of panicked robes.
I couldn’t hear the gunfire, and doubted anyone else could, either. The first I knew of it was when a crimson bloom spread across the white robe of a Priest on my left. He fell and rolled, a look of eternal surprise on his face as he gave up his life.
I shied away from him in horrified recognition. It was Father Angelo. He had taught me Italian and French. Another Priest landed almost at my feet. I couldn’t help but look. It was Father Manning. He had done the funniest card tricks. He was missing a large chunk of his head. I screamed.
Josh pulled me up against his chest, and that’s when I saw Sumner. He was ambling about like a dark cowboy, a hard smile of determination creasing his face. As they swarmed around the fire, he picked them off, casually trolling for the next good shot and taking the time to do it right.
“Holy shit, it’s Billy the Kid,” I breathed.
“Well, he’s crazy enough to be,” Josh muttered against my ear. I could hear the grudging admiration in his voice. “Do you see either of the High Priests?”
I scanned the area and shook my head. There were plenty of white robes, and a number of Disciples who hadn’t been scared off by the flames were herding children back inside the main building. And of course there was Ora, encased in fire.
“How are we supposed to get to her?” I asked, and he shrugged.
“What about Phoenix? Maybe we can get him down.”
Josh and I worked our way around the edge of the panicked crowd. Some of them were forming a chain, passing forward buckets of water from the Main House. Phoenix was no longer pinned against the wall like a bug. He stood hidden in the shadows, his full attention on the flames surrounding Ora.
Only then did I understand that he was the source of the fire. I could just make out the small figure of a child half hidden behind him, one hand firmly gripping Phoenix’s arm as though to steady him.
I caught a glimpse of red silk beside me, and my stomach lurched. It wasn’t one of the High Priests, though. She was small, with dark skin and eyes, and an unruly cloud of black curls.
“Ryanne.” She squeezed my arm.
“Lexy,” I answered hoarsely.
“I’m glad you’re real,” she said. I blinked at her, unsure how to respond.
“We’ve got this covered,” Lexy said. “Take your boyfriend and go find Jack. We’ll meet you in the north woods, if we can.”
“But—”
“He’s underground. Do you understand what I mean?” she asked.
I opened my mouth to say something along the lines of “Hell, no” but nothing came out. To my surprise, I found myself nodding.
“Good. Now go!” She disappeared into the melee.
We faded back into the shadows like ghosts.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
“Hang on Ora, you’re not dead yet.”
“You better keep yourself under control, Phoenix!”
Being enclosed in flames was almost as scary as being pummeled by rocks. It beat against her skin in waves of intense heat. It singed the hair on top of her head as well as her brows and eyelashes. She kept her eyes closed, afraid her eyeballs would dry up and pop out of her face like tiny raisins.
But she had a bigger problem: breathing was almost impossible. Every time she tried to gulp in some air, she seared her lungs instead. She could feel it burning a path down her throat and sizzling its way to the tips of her bronchi.
“I can’t breathe! Phoenix, I can’t breathe!”
“Don’t panic.”
“Easy for you to say, fucker! I’m a human marshmallow!”
“You really want to name-call right now, Ora?”
“Ora! Don’t panic, we’re coming for you!” That was Lexy. Her voice was a cool balm, and Ora tucked her face into her chest and tried to hold on.
“Lexy . . .”
Ora couldn’t hear anything above the roar of the flames, and she was still afraid to open her eyes. But Lexy’s words had calmed her, as they always did. She sent out her awareness, trying to gain some understanding of what was going on around her. Bit by bit, little nuggets of information came to her.
Phoenix is over by the fence, with Ashlyn. That was good.
Lexy is in the crowd. She’s maybe ten feet away, on the left. Okay, that was also good.
Sumner has turned assassin. He’s taken out four of the Priests so far. Ora paused there, trying to wrap her mind around it. He’d taken out Fathers Manning, Javan, Khoury, and Angelo. At that moment, he was moving in on Father Sachiel.
“Get that bastard Palidor if you get the chance, Sumner!”
He responded with a wild cackle.
The next nugg
et not only stunned her, but also started that infernal hope brewing within her once again.
Sumner found the redhead! Not only that, she’s heading for the Underground to free Jack.
“Sumner, you’re my fucking hero!”
“That’s right, baby doll. I’m the stuff men are made of!”
“You do the worst John Wayne impersonation I’ve ever heard.”
If she could have spared the oxygen, she would have laughed with relief and delight. But really, breathing was becoming a serious concern.
“Um, Phoenix?”
It was Lexy who answered. “Can you undo your bonds, Ora?”
Ora tried.
“No, I’m still too drugged.”
Neither Lexy nor Phoenix was telekinetic, and panic clenched at her gut. But then a new voice chimed in.
“No problem.” It was Ashlyn.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
One by one, the shackles released their hold. Ora stumbled forward, veering dangerously close to the flames before she managed to regain her balance.
“Get down, and hold on to something,” Ashlyn warned.
Ora barely had time to obey, wrapping her arms around the bottom of the post. She heard the water before she felt it. It was a thundering answer to the fire’s roar. She heard the screaming as its flooding force swept people away. And then it hit her. It wasn’t like being doused by a cool gush of water—it was like being hit by a Mack truck. The only thing that saved her was the fact that she’d positioned herself with her back to the onslaught. She was pushed chest-first into the post.
The cart wasn’t tied to anything, and it was swept away with her pinned to it. She held on, lungs burning.
“Oops. Sorry about that, Ora,” Ashlyn chimed in.
Her head broke the surface of the water. She sucked in great, gasping breaths. And then she was sobbing with relief.
To breathe! It was glorious!
The horse cart came to a slow, spinning stop as the water released its hold. She opened her eyes and watched in awe as the torrent churned away from her. There were heads bobbing in the current as people were swept downhill.
The Faithful Page 32
