Worship Me

by Craig Stewart

Susan almost whimpered. She had the sudden urge to hide herself, and especially her hair from whatever prying eyes might be searching for her.

  “Told you? How did it tell you?” Tina asked. Her tone had grown more severe, and appropriately so. If the child could really converse with the beast, then how could he be trusted? He was, after all, the last person to see Clara alive. Maybe her death didn’t happen exactly the way he said it did. It was possible the beast had been influencing Alex from the start. Then again, it was also possible he was just a young, stupid kid saying young, stupid things.

  “I don’t know,” he replied, with his signature shrug.

  “Does it say things to you, the way I’m saying things now?”

  “No, it says stuff in my head.”

  “What kind of stuff?” Tina took a step toward him in order to intimidate a quick response.

  Susan had been watching the interrogation and had pieced together exactly what Tina’s questions were implying. She was also aware of the nosey group of onlookers closing in. She reasoned, if Alex were in cahoots with the beast, then would it have allowed him to admit it so freely? She couldn’t explain why the beast had spoken to him, if indeed it had at all, but to Susan, Alex was just a scared boy in a bad situation, waiting for his mother.

  “Alex,” Tina continued, with snowballing intensity, “did the beast tell you anything when you were in the basement? When you were down there with Clara?”

  The question clearly upset Alex, who turned and stared into the wood grain back of the pew. He started counting every subtle variation in the grain he could find.

  “I don’t think he knows anything, Tina.” Susan finally came to his aid, but Tina would not be derailed so easily.

  “What else did your friend tell you?”

  “He doesn’t know anything. And to be honest, I think you need to back off,” Susan asserted herself.

  “I’m just trying to get to the bottom of why he scared you.”

  “He didn’t scare me. Why do people keep saying I’m scared? I’m not scared. I guess I’m just still a little freaked from last night, sure, but Alex had nothing to do with that.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re fine?” Tina asked skeptically.

  “That’s right. I’m fine,” she said with enough confidence to ward Tina off.

  Once the confrontation had ended, and people returned to their own business, Susan made a point to sit extra close to Alex. She wanted to show that there was nothing to be feared, that he was just another child.

  He was just a child, right?

  CHAPTER 29

  Though Chris was a big supporter of the escape movement, like Angela, he had not yet figured out a realistic plan. So, he stayed busy doing what he could. Food was a great opportunity for him to talk with people he normally wouldn’t. This was important to him since he was going to need their support once his master plan formed – a natural-born politician.

  With apple slices wobbling back and forth on his silver tray like shivering red moons, he stepped briskly across the empty mess hall, toward the sanctuary door.

  Just as he reached it, the door swung open and knocked the tray from his hands. He had been so careful, but had not anticipated a sneak attack.

  The apple moons tumbled from their metal sky and skipped across the floor. The perpetrator of their demise reared his bashful head from around the edge of the door. Chris swore whoever it was, he would never forgive them, but, as it turned out to be Matthew, he changed his thinking. They were just apples, for heaven’s sake.

  “Oh, shit! Sorry, Chris.”

  “It’s okay,” he reassured.

  The two of them knelt down in unison and started gathering the slices.

  “Matt, you don’t have to help me. You have enough to worry about.”

  “It’s my fault they fell, isn’t it?”

  Chris chose not to answer. He purposely picked up the slices that had fallen further away to avoid the chance that their hands might touch, which he would have enjoyed, but knew Matthew would not.

  “How are things in there, are people hungry?” Chris asked to banish the silence between them.

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t been talking much with people.”

  “Right, yes, of course not.”

  “But, I noticed Dorothy has been talking.”

  “Oh, that’s good. I was afraid she had totally lost her shit.”

  “She and Tina have been talking to a bunch of families,” Matthew said, locking his eyes on Chris to make sure he understood the gravity of what he meant.

  “What have they been saying?”

  “I don’t know,” Matthew answered with concern, “but people are listening.”

  Chris got the message, loud and clear.

  “Look, Matthew, thanks for helping. I can handle the rest of it.”

  Well over half the slices had been rescued, but were in need of a thorough rinsing.

  “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize you were behind the door.”

  “It’s all right. I should have made more noise, worn a bell or something.”

  “I’m sorry, Chris.” Matthew stopped collecting apples. His voice crackled with sincerity, like when someone says they have something important to tell you and they actually do. He repeated, “I’m really sorry.”

  Chris stopped fussing with the tray and paid attention to the way Matthew’s face had succumbed. It was an awkward, but sympathetic contortion of his features. His light eyebrows quivered as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

  The display was heartbreaking and Chris stared back into Matthew’s dampening eyes, knowing full well that his own were not far behind. Matthew was not usually the kind of guy to wear his emotions on his sleeve, let alone plastered across his face, and Chris took pity.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Chris said tenderly. “It’s all right.”

  “I’m sorry,” Matthew cried. “I’m so sorry...”

  Before Matthew collapsed under the pressure, Chris grabbed hold of him and pulled him close. He rested Matthew’s sobbing head between his neck and shoulder and supported him there, while endless tears began to storm.

  Chris gathered his arms around Matthew’s back and squeezed tight, as if trying to crush the sorrow out of him. It seemed to work.

  To Chris’s delight, Matthew returned the embrace. For the first time since the Behemoth arrived, they each felt safe.

  Gradually, Matthew collected himself enough to regulate his breath. When he seemed stable, Chris pulled back from their tenderness.

  “I didn’t know you liked apples so much,” Chris said.

  A smile emerged on Matthew’s worn face; it was a welcome sign of hope, like finding a flower amidst a field of desolation.

  “I do. I really do,” Matthew responded quickly, then leaned in and pressed his lips against Chris’.

  The surprise kiss lasted long enough for Matthew to thoroughly massage Chris’ mouth with his own. The intimate exchange was exquisite and boiled Chris’ desire to almost unbearable heights. But, it was more than that. Lust and love had become unified within Chris in a powerful way.

  As soon as the moment was over, Matthew got up and continued on his path for some water. It was not meant as a crass exit; it was simply the only thing Matthew could think to do.

  Chris was left, kneeling on the floor, to soak in the lasting memory of their dearest contact. The thought of Matthew consumed him the way only young love can. He was exhilarated, electrified; his dreams had been made manifest and proved more miraculous than he dared hoped.

  One thing became absolutely clear; they had to escape. They had to escape, if only to be together one more time.

  CHAPTER 30

  Santa’s throne had become a curiously fitting home for Angela and her despair. Though the tears had stopped, a debilitating numbness had settled into their place. She knew she needed to return to Alex and come up with a way to get them out of this nightmare, yet she remained plan
ted in the chair, tucked away in the privacy of the stage.

  Rick had, in some way, destroyed her. He might as well have gutted her like Clara. In fact, in a way, he had. He had taken something from her. Angela felt sixteen again and wished she could remember how to be strong, how to fight him, but all she could think to do was hide.

  The heavy curtains of the stage rustled as someone stepped into her space. She had no fear it was Rick, unless he was now wearing shoes with sizable heels.

  The footsteps clicked their way around the wood floor as if searching for something. Angela was sure if she didn’t move, they would never find her behind the burlap. The thought was appealing, but those penetrating clicking noises got the better of her.

  “For Christ’s sake,” Angela eventually blurted out, “what?” She got up out of the chair and revealed herself from behind the curtain. To Angela’s amazement, it had been Emily stumbling around. She looked distressed, perhaps even more distressed than Angela.

  “Emily... What do you want?”

  “I was looking for you,” she said, as she scanned Angela up and down.

  “I’m right here, behind curtain number three.”

  “I have something I need to tell you.”

  “What’s wrong, is it Alex?” The question raced from her mouth.

  “No, he’s fine.”

  “Okay then... what?”

  “There’s something I want to say to you.”

  Angela was not in the mood to hear any of Emily’s condemnations, so she beat her to it.

  “Don’t bother,” said Angela. “I can guess every word that comes out of your mouth. Every word. I’m a filthy devil’s whore, a dirty little slut, a fucking waste. So, thanks for the visit, Emily. It was grand, can’t wait to see you again.”

  “You’re not the whore,” Emily admitted plainly.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “I said you’re not the whore. You never were.”

  “Can you say that again? I want to get it on tape.”

  “Dang it, Angela! I’m trying to say something to you.”

  “I didn’t realize it was story time,” Angela teased. It was clear Emily was not amused. “Okay, go ahead. I’m listening.”

  “The night Rick went missing, he said he was just driving around without a place to go and ended up here. It’s not true. He was coming out here to meet me. That’s why he drove out to the church that night. So, you’re not the whore.” Emily could not even look at her confessor.

  A toxic mixture stirred within Angela. Rick’s infidelity was scarcely a shock, but Emily’s righteous judgment that Angela had suffered for the past three months, which now proved wholly hypocritical, was maddening.

  “You and Rick? For how long?” she asked.

  “A while.”

  “Years?”

  “Years.”

  “And for all those years, you’ve poured that shit out on me. Hated me for being with him.”

  “The story’s not done,” Emily said, resorting to her old forceful self. “We met at the church most often. It was a good place—no one would suspect. I can’t tell you how it started, it just did. Please believe that I’m sorry, Angela. I really am. But, I couldn’t keep lying to myself, my husband, or my God. Enough was enough. So, on the night he disappeared, I decided I just wouldn’t show up. I guess, when he realized I wasn’t there waiting for him, he got drunk and wandered off. When I found out he went missing, I couldn’t say anything. It would have destroyed Michael.”

  “So, why are you telling me this now?”

  “’Cause in the ‘End Times’, the only thing that matters is being square with God.”

  “How about being square with just me? Does that matter?” Angela asked earnestly, and waited patiently for a reply.

  The two women stood in silence while Emily considered the question.

  “Yes, that matters,” she finally admitted. “I’m so sorry for the pain I caused you, Angela. You didn’t deserve it. I guess I just couldn’t face what I had done. Now you know.”

  “Yes I do.”

  Emily swallowed deeply and nodded. For the first time in her confession, she managed to meet Angela’s eyes. She had not expected a pardon for her crimes, but she had hoped the sinking feeling in her stomach would lesson once her sins had been spoken aloud. They had only become heavier, but that was her cross to bear. As there was nothing left to be said, Emily started back to the sanctuary.

  “Emily,” Angela added, “thank you for the truth.”

  After Emily left her alone on the stage, Angela had time to process the revelation. How many lies were told to her and about her? How many telling looks were shared between Rick and Emily that she hadn’t noticed? How many times had her husband abandoned her to be with his mistress? The questions solidified one thing; Rick, even before he attacked her, before he was a mad prophet, before he hit her, was already a ruined thing. When they first met, she was just too young to recognize his inherent malice, but in time it had all become crystal clear.

  Strangely, it was Emily’s confession that pulled Angela from the murk. After how badly she had been wronged, she could not allow herself to be stunned into such an idle state anymore. If she did, it was as though she believed that she deserved every indignity. By remaining hidden, she was agreeing that yes, Rick could do with her as he pleased, yes, Emily could deal her such lies and get away with it, and yes, the Behemoth could hold her captive and threaten the life of her son.

  No, she thought. It was time to push back.

  CHAPTER 31

  Before Angela could open the door to the sanctuary, it opened for her. She pulled back to avoid its blind swing, narrowly missing the momentum of the hefty wood.

  Chris, who had been the one so eager to shove the door open, came charging out of the room and nearly ran into her.

  “Chris!” Angela exclaimed, catching his shoulder just before it dug into her gut. “Whoa, what’s the matter?”

  “Angela! I was just coming to look for you. Quick, you have to hear this.”

  He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the sanctuary.

  Dorothy had situated herself near the pulpit. Gary and Tina stood in front of her while everyone else in the room watched from the pews.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we’re running out of time,” Dorothy said, forcing her voice far past the two people she was addressing.

  “I can’t. This is insane,” Gary responded softly, and shook his head.

  “Do you think this sunny afternoon is going to last forever? The sun is falling even as we speak. You know it, I know it. We all know it. And exactly what do you think is going to happen after dark?” she asked him.

  “Dorothy’s right,” Tina added. “Gary, listen to her.”

  “No. I won’t hear another word of this.”

  Even from across the room, Angela could piece together the morbid topic under discussion. To her, the idea of it remained too repulsive to entertain. Simply put, giving the Behemoth what it wanted was not an option. It was clear that in her brief absence, much had changed.

  “Dorothy bounced back strong,” Chris said, almost to himself. “She’s got them all freaked the fuck out, keeps waving around a clock and reminding people its attached to a big-ass bomb.”

  “Why is she doing this?” asked Angela.

  “I have no idea. Ever since last night, Matthew said she’s been talking to everyone. Look at them, she knows they’re watching her.” Chris gestured to the crowd of onlookers. They were glued to her.

  The heated discussion was interrupted by a deafening thud. The ceiling shook and loosened a few older planks of wood. The room fell silent as the rumble echoed. It sent vibrations through the entire structure of the building. Angela could feel the tremors tickle her feet.

  Her first thought was to find Alex.

  Another tremendous pound sounded as though it may crumble the roof altogether. A few of the loosened planks gave way and tumbled down against the pews.

>   As the sky started to fall, congregation members scattered like a panicked anthill. Screams added to the dissonant soundscape and seemed to excite the pounding.

  “It’s on the roof!” Susan yelled.

  It was like the Behemoth, which could not have weighed any less than a truck, had taken to dancing atop of the church. Maybe it was a ritual mockery of the lives contained within, or maybe it was just something the beast liked to do. Either way, it had made its presence known.

  It leapt from one corner of the sanctuary to the other and took vast strides that cracked the plaster above their heads. The jovial rhythms of its stomping threatened to collapse the church itself.

  Then suddenly, it stopped. The screaming members, however, were slow to catch on that the terror had ended – for now.

  Alex peaked his head up from Susan’s pew and saw his mother in the doorway. He jumped from his spot and ran to her.

  “Mommy!” he yelled. He grabbed hold of her and whispered, “You made it go away.”

  Angela knew this was not true, but if it helped Alex feel safe, she was willing to play along.

  Many of the other children were crying and again, each family separated from the group to tend to their offspring.

  To her far right, Angela noticed Emily holding her daughter, Samantha. The little girl’s face was flush and full of tears. Emily bobbed her up and down as a distraction from the panic.

  “I want to go home...” Samantha sniffled.

  “I know, honey. I know.” Emily kissed Samantha’s tiny hand.

  “Where did it go?” hollered a middle-aged man who sounded like a child himself.

  “What are we going to do, we can’t just keep sitting here!” screamed another.

  “Quiet!” Dorothy yelled. She took a few steps closer to the pulpit to give herself some height. It worked. People settled and listened. “You want to know what we’re going to do? I’ll tell you. We’re going to stick together. It’s the only way.”

  “Yes,” Tina agreed adamantly.

  Dorothy continued, “The time has come to accept our situation. Things have changed. We need to recognize that what we are dealing with, we cannot overcome. We won’t out last it. We won’t out run it. You think it’s scary when it bangs on the walls? Tonight, it won’t just bang, it will come crashing through with all the force of nature and take us one by one. We have two options: we comply or we die.”