by Mark Tilbury
Maddie turned to Anne. ‘I could stay here with you.’
‘What about your duties at the church? Your dad said he wanted you home tomorrow.’
‘Lighting a few candles and saying a few prayers? I’m sure he can cope. He managed youth club by himself last night.’
‘A couple of hours is one thing,’ Anne said. ‘You can’t just uproot and—’
‘It’ll be all right,’ Maddie assured her. ‘It’s about time he learned to stand on his own two feet.’
‘You’ll need clothes,’ Ben said.
Maddie grinned. ‘So take me home. We can have a chat with my dad, and then I can pack my stuff.’
Pastor Tom listened as Ben recounted his visit to the Hunts’ bungalow and described the contents of Emily’s letter.
‘So when Ben goes off to find this busker, Anne will be on her own,’ Maddie said.
‘And does Ben’s mother want you staying with her?’
Maddie pouted. ‘Of course she does.’
‘You’ve not forced this upon her?’
‘No.’
‘She’ll be glad of the company,’ Ben added. ‘In all honesty, I dread to think what she’ll be like on her own.’
Tom nodded. ‘She’ll feel like she’s lost half her heart. But you’ve got to be careful. You need to give her time—’
‘We don’t exactly have time, do we?’ Maddie interrupted.
‘All right. Go ahead if you think it’s for the best.’
‘I know it’s for the best.’
‘I suppose I could get Rhonda to help out at the church.’
‘Rhonda will love that.’
‘Rhonda?’ Ben asked.
Maddie smiled. ‘Rhonda comes to every service. Monday, Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday. She’s sweet on Dad.’
Tom looked away. ‘Don’t be daft.’
Maddie ploughed on. ‘She walks over three miles to get to church, come rain or shine. That’s either dedication or love.’
Ben understood Rhonda; he would walk barefoot across mountains to spend time with Maddie. ‘Are you sure you’re all right with this, Tom?’
‘Your father is missing, son. Only a mean-spirited person would deny help to someone in need.’
‘So I can pack, then?’ Maddie said.
‘Go on.’
Ben watched Maddie bounce out of the room. She looked like sunshine in her bright yellow dungarees. He thanked Tom.
‘What are you going to do if you find this busker, son?’
Ben felt something pass through him. Something spiritual he couldn’t define. Peace? Love? Goodness? ‘I thought I could follow him. See if he can lead me to the cult.’
Tom was quiet for a while, and then said, ‘You could try to join the cult, son. Get inside. Help your dad that way.’
‘That’s what I was thinking. But to be honest, Tom, the thought of going anywhere near that bunch of lunatics terrifies me.’
‘The only thing to fear is fear itself. Try to remember that.’
‘What if they smell a rat?’
‘Trust in yourself and trust in the Lord.’
‘I work in an office at home. I sometimes put missing posters on lampposts. Go to the stationery store. I’m hardly James Bond.’
‘You’re much stronger than you think, Ben.’
‘My dad doesn’t even trust me.’
‘Really? So who did he call in his hour of need?’
‘He’s got my number on speed-dial. That watch-phone’s not up to much except in an emergency.’
‘Nonsense. He called you because he trusts you.’
‘That’s why he’s always telling me to buck my ideas up, is it?’
‘It’s a thin line between criticism and motivation.’
‘I don’t even know what to say if I do find this busker.’
‘Tell him what he wants to hear. Tell him you want to turn your back on society.’
‘Not a bad idea as it goes!’
‘The letter said Emily wanted money for the Rapture. Do you know what the Rapture is, son?’
Ben shook his head. ‘Seems like a load of nonsense just to get money to finance the cult.’
‘The Rapture can be a dangerous concept in the wrong hands. Waco being a classic example of that. The time of the Rapture is known as Tribulation. What it boils down to is a rebellion against Satan. There will be great battles between good and evil. Some of those with faith will be chosen to be saved and taken to Heaven.’
‘In a spaceship?’
Tom nodded. ‘Jesus will return to earth to judge those left. He will rule for a thousand years. Then Jesus will defeat Satan and banish evil forever. The world will be destroyed and a new Heaven and earth will be created.’
It all sounded like hogwash to Ben. ‘Do you believe that’s true?’
‘I don’t know, son. Anything’s possible.’
‘Do you think there really is such a thing as Heaven and Hell?’
‘Absolutely, son.’
‘What if I mess up, Tom? What then?’
‘The Lord trusts you, son. Remember that.’
Maddie returned to the kitchen and plonked a large leather suitcase on the floor. ‘I think I’ve got it all.’
Tom grinned. ‘You’re staying a while, then?’
‘A girl needs clothes.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to pop the kitchen sink in there while you’re at it?’
Maddie collapsed on top of her suitcase. ‘Pick me up off the floor. I’m hysterical.’
‘Go on. Get outta here.’
As they were about to leave, Tom looked at Ben. He didn’t speak. It was as if he was trying to convey a message through telepathy. A message of love and understanding. Ben wanted to tell Tom how much he loved him. Admired him. Respected him. But somehow he knew he didn’t need words to convey those things. Acknowledgement was written in Tom’s eyes in clear blue ink.
7
Edward Ebb sat at the head of a large pine table in the kitchen and addressed his three most trusted followers. ‘Are we all agreed that the Imposter is an agent of the Devil?’
The group, all dressed in obligatory yellow overalls, confirmed their belief that the Imposter was indeed in the employ of Satan. Sister Alice went further. ‘I believe he is in the grip of demonic possession.’
Ebb wiped something off the front of his white suit jacket. ‘Indeed, Sister. That much is apparent by the way he froths and spits and curses.’
Brother Marcus didn’t seem quite so sure as the others. ‘It could be that he’s in pain.’
Ebb shook his head. ‘Don’t be deceived by his illusionary manner. The only thing causing him pain is God’s presence.’
‘He fell a long way,’ Marcus added. ‘And he’s been shot.’
‘And your point is?’
Marcus looked away. ‘Just saying.’
Ebb turned his attention to Tweezer. ‘Have you anything to add?’
‘The long range camera I found in the tree indicates a spy. I’ll take the film to Boots on Monday and get it developed.’
‘Could be he’s a reporter,’ Marcus said.
Ebb’s eyes gleamed like hot coals. ‘He’s a reporter all right. Satan’s. I want him bound to a chair with rope before I go anywhere near him again.’
Marcus took a sip of water and placed his glass on the table. ‘Is there any need if he’s paralysed?’
‘Paralysis has no bearing on his potential threat. I’ve seen demons leap through naked flames and into pits of acid.’
Sister Alice crossed herself.
Ebb asked her if she’d found anything whilst shaving him.
‘No, Father.’
‘The mark of the beast will be somewhere upon him. Did you shave his pubic area?’
‘No.’
‘It might be prudent to do so.’
It was Alice’s turn to look sceptical. ‘I don’t know, Father. He’s very hard to manoeuvre, what with him being all dead weight.’
‘Brother Twee
zer can help you.’
‘Thank you, Father.’
Ebb was quiet for a moment, and then said to Tweezer, ‘I want you to go back up in that tree.’
‘Why?’
‘To see if there’s anything you missed the first time.’
‘But there wasn’t anything else. Just the camera.’
‘How high did you go?’
Tweezer’s right eye twitched. It looked as if he was winking at Ebb. ‘To where he fell from, Father.’
‘I want you to climb right to the top. Leave no stone unturned.’
‘Shouldn’t that be leaf?’ Marcus mumbled.
‘But why, Father?’ Tweezer said. ‘I’ve had a good look.’
Ebb felt like poking out that twitching eye with a chicken bone. He didn’t like tics; they were an indication of possession. ‘Because he may have secreted other evidence up there. Carved hidden messages into the bark.’
Tweezer made the mistake of asking what sort of messages.
‘If I knew that, I wouldn’t be damn well asking you to go up there, would I?’
‘No, Father.’
‘Does the bible not say Seek and ye shall find?’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘It doesn’t say sit on thy fat backside and the answer shall bite you on the beak, does it?’
Marcus laughed.
Ebb rounded on him. ‘Something funny, Brother Marcus?’
Marcus reconstructed his face into a mask of sobriety. ‘No, Father.’
Ebb turned back to Tweezer. ‘And when you’re finished, I want you to look for his car.’
‘I’ve already looked.’
‘Where?’
‘Along the track.’
‘Are you trying to test my patience?’
‘No, Father.’
‘Do you think the Imposter is going to park along the track whilst he carries out surveillance?’ Ebb didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Of course he isn’t. He’s going to secrete the car out of sight somewhere.’
‘But he could have put it anywhere,’ Tweezer argued. ‘I don’t even know what it looks like.’
‘It’s a Ford Fiesta,’ Ebb said. ‘It’s embossed on the key.’
‘All right. I’ll have a scout about and see what I can find.’
‘Thank you. And just bear in mind whilst you’re having a “scout about”, I don’t want to see you back here until you locate it. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Father.’
Sister Alice ran a hand through her short spiky hair. ‘Can I make a suggestion?’
Ebb nodded.
‘Why don’t we try a different approach with the Imposter?’
‘Such as?’
‘Pain relief.’
‘What the bloody hell for?’ Ebb squawked, forgetting Rule 47: No Swearing. ‘Perhaps we should go the whole hog and turn the Revelation Room into a five-star hotel suite, complete with sauna and Jacuzzi?’
‘I didn’t mean—’
‘Are you forgetting what we’re dealing with here, Sister Alice?’
‘No, Father. I just thought pain relief might offer him an incentive to talk.’
‘We have a strict rule about medication, Sister Alice. As you well know. We must never interfere with God’s will.’
‘I know, Father. But this isn’t interfering with God’s will, is it? It’s trying to coax answers out of the Devil’s own. There’s a difference.’
After a few moments' deliberation, Ebb said, ‘I don’t know. It might be a trap.’
‘A trap, Father?’
Ebb nodded. A bead of sweat dripped onto his top lip. He licked it off. ‘Remember that he is more than capable of planting ideas into an unguarded mind.’
‘But a few paracetamol isn’t going to hurt,’ Alice protested. ‘It might tempt him.’
Ebb shook his head. ‘No. We’re not breaking the rules on medication for anyone. Especially the Imposter. The Lord does not permit the use of drugs, just as he forbids drinking alcohol and eating meat. Next thing, you’ll be suggesting we offer the swine a hog roast and a glass of wine.’
Alice gave up. ‘As you wish, Father.’
Ebb did. He stood up. ‘It’s clear that the Imposter wants to strike fear and confusion at the heart of The Sons and Daughters of Salvation. Satan’s agents come in many guises. Animals. Birds. Fish. That is why we have a strict rule to never eat the flesh of these creatures. We don’t want to ingest evil, do we?’
No one did.
‘Mark my words, half the evil in this world is spread by Burger King and McDonald’s.’
‘Amen to that,’ Alice said.
‘Gluttony and greed dominates every single high street in the world. Abstinence makes the heart stronger. The spirit unburdened. The mind pure.’
‘Makes me bloody hungry,’ Marcus muttered.
‘Did you say something, Brother Marcus?’
‘Just said I’m peckish, Father.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘Would you like to go into the Revelation Room for a while?’
Marcus straightened up. ‘No, Father.’
‘Realign your thoughts?’
‘No, Father.’
‘Keep the Imposter company?’
‘No. I—’
‘Then keep your mouth shut whilst I’m speaking.’
Marcus bowed his head. ‘Yes, Father.’
Ebb paced up and down. He stopped at a large white ceramic sink and poured himself a plastic tumbler of water. He drained it in one and mopped his head with a cotton handkerchief.
‘Are you all right, Father?’ Sister Alice asked.
Ebb didn’t answer. He dropped the tumbler in the sink. He closed his eyes and held onto the sink for support. There was a humming noise in the back of his head, like the steady thrum of an electrical substation. A storm was coming. He could sense it the same way as animals could. An instinct. A secret vibration. Call it what you will, it was strong, and very rarely wrong.
Alice went to his side and held his free hand. ‘Father?’
He tried to smile. Tried to reassure his favourite member that things were okay. He’d be fine in a moment or two. But the humming grew louder.
‘Father?’
The words echoed around the base of his skull like thunder. ‘A storm is coming, Sister.’
‘Is it the Imposter?’
‘The Imposter is the foreteller of evil.’
Alice crossed herself.
Ebb’s eyelids fluttered. His breathing came in rapid pants. ‘Can you smell the flowers?’
Alice sniffed the air. ‘I—’
‘I can smell paradise.’
‘Amen,’ Alice said. The sentiment didn’t touch her eyes.
‘I can taste Heaven.’
‘What does it taste of, Father?’
‘Raspberries,’ Ebb answered, as a wave rolled across the top of his brain. ‘Raspberries and honeycomb.’
‘Do you want to sit back down, Father?’
Ebb shook his head. A mistake. The wave turned into a tsunami and almost capsized him. He gasped for air. ‘Steady me, Sister.’
Alice held onto his arm and rubbed his shoulder.
Something stirred in the pit of Ebb’s stomach. He rocked from side to side. ‘We are blessed. Truly blessed. We must give thanks to the Lord. For he is within me as I speak.’
Tweezer stood up. He looked as awkward as a vegetarian in a slaughterhouse. ‘Father?’
Ebb took a deep breath and puffed out his chest. ‘The Imposter is a sign.’
‘A sign, Father?’
Ebb didn’t hear him. His heart was suddenly filled with love. Church bells chimed in his ears. Tears leaked down his cheeks. ‘Jesus speaks.’
‘What does He say, Father?’ Alice asked.
Ebb’s right arm trembled. ‘The Imposter has been sent to learn of our preparations for the Rapture. We must remain vigilant. We must fight his wicked ways with every ounce of strength in our bodies. This is a sign that t
he Rapture will soon be upon us. We must….’
‘Father?’ Alice prompted.
Ebb suddenly collapsed, the right side of his body gripped by a violent epileptic seizure.
8
Ben and Maddie stepped off the bus in Oxford High Street at nine-fifteen on Tuesday morning. After two fruitless trips to the city on his own, Maddie had agreed to accompany Ben whilst his mother helped Pastor Tom at the church. She’d perked up slightly when Tom had asked her if she was any good at flower arranging. It was only a month ago that Anne had completed a course to study the subject. No tip-off from Maddie!
After three hours of searching, the nearest they’d come to finding a busker was a preacher on a soap box banging a tambourine to emphasise his words. Ben sat on a bench which was just a narrow tilted strip of wood designed to offer no comfort.
‘They make them like this to stop people sleeping on them,’ Maddie said.
‘They’re all heart.’
Maddie sat down beside him. ‘They’ll make it a criminal offence to be homeless next. Shoot vagrants on sight for daring to litter their precious city.’
‘Chop off the hands of beggars to stop them begging.’
‘Chop off the feet of tramps to stop them tramping.’
‘This country sucks.’
‘Like a kid’s straw in a milkshake,’ Maddie agreed. ‘Did you see that Big Issue guy outside Debenhams?’
‘The big dude with the shaved head?’
Maddie nodded. ‘I wonder if he’s seen our busker?’
‘He looks as if he might have eaten him.’
‘Swallowed him whole,’ Maddie agreed. ‘Shall we ask him?’
‘Do you reckon we ought to buy a Big Issue?’
‘We could give him a tenner. It might help to jog his memory.’
Big Issue guy was still standing outside Debenhams. He offered Ben a magazine, and a smile that looked capable of mincing beef.
‘I was wondering if you could help me,’ Ben said. ‘I’m looking for someone.’
Big Issue squinted at Ben. ‘Are you a copper?’
‘Me? God, no.’
‘We’re looking for my sister,’ Maddie said. ‘Show him the picture.’
Ben took Emily’s picture from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it over. ‘It’s not up to date. She’s nineteen now.’
