Creed

by Trisha Leaver

  We decided to let Joseph lead, figuring he would know the quickest route to safety. Our goal wasn’t to make it home in one night, just to get safely out of Elijah’s striking distance.

  I felt more than saw Elijah emerge from the shadows, and with one deep breath, I turned around to face him.

  “Going somewhere, Rebekah?”

  Joseph and Mike slowly turned around at the sound of his voice. Mike’s hand flexed, the rage he’d tamped down flying full throttle to the surface.

  I thought about taking off, just running as fast as I could in the opposite direction, and if it hadn’t been for what Elijah was holding in front of him, I probably would’ve. Elijah had James by the throat, kicking at the back of the boy’s feet to make him walk. James was pale and sweating, but he wasn’t lashing out or trying to break free. It wasn’t until I saw the glint of the blade at James’s neck that I figured out why.

  James silently begged me to help him, the plea encased in tears that nearly brought me to my knees. I couldn’t help him. I was unarmed, Mike was loaded down with Luke, and Joseph looked as scared his cousin. That crazy old man had us stuck, unsure of what to do or where to run.

  “James,” I muttered, hoping he’d hear the apology in my tone.

  Elijah wrenched James’s neck back farther, the knife poised at his skin like a promise. “I see you found your brother,” he said to Mike, his gaze skimming over Luke’s body. “I tried, you know. I begged him to give up his contemptuous ways. But unlike you, he wouldn’t acknowledge my divinity. He kept damning me to hell, all in the name of her.”

  Elijah’s words sunk in, left me standing there with nothing but the horrid truth ringing in my ears. Luke had been fighting for me, had spent his last hours cursing Elijah until it got him killed.

  “There is no point in taking him home,” Elijah continued. “Even a Christian burial won’t save his soul.”

  Elijah repositioned the knife, twisting it to elicit a gasp from James’s lips. “It’s actually better this way. Somebody as tainted as Luke needed to be released from the confines of this world and returned to his maker.”

  I shrieked, a sound so intense and full of anger that I lost the ability to think. I wanted to tear every scrap of skin from Elijah’s body and stand over him as he took his last breath.

  “Don’t,” Joseph whispered, anticipating my actions. “You go after him and he’ll kill James. Please, Dee, don’t give him a reason. Father,” he said, turning to Elijah with a plea in his voice, a plea I knew would go unanswered, “let them go. I’ll stay. I’ll submit to whatever you deem necessary, but please, let them go.”

  “The thought of you leaving never crossed my mind, son. You were born and raised here, taught in our ways. And here is where you will die.”

  Maybe that was Elijah’s endgame. Maybe he truly wanted to see us all dead, including his own son.

  “What do you want from us?” Mike’s voice came from behind me. I turned and found myself staring at Luke’s thighs. They were covered in blood and whatever other horrible, sickening liquid had begun to seep from his body.

  “That’s the wrong question.” Elijah stepped closer, dragging James with him. “You entrusted me with your soul, boy, agreed to go through the cleansing ritual and join our humble community. I expect you to keep your word.”

  “I don’t owe you shit,” Mike fired back. “Like you said, I’m the smart one here. I said everything you wanted to hear, and what do you know? Here I am, alive and well.”

  “For now,” Elijah said, smiling. He swung James around to face me, pushing him forward so that our feet touched and our breath mingled. “About your little indiscretion, Rebekah.”

  I saw one thing and one thing only … the knife, clean and sharp.

  “I believe I made myself quite clear when I left, did I not?” Elijah asked.

  I opened my mouth, had to shut it and swallow hard twice before I came out with, “Please.” Not I’ll do what you want or take me instead. All I could manage was a weak, feeble “please.”

  “Forgiveness is something I will grant you, because I understand the world you have lived in. I know that it will take great courage and strength on my part to keep you pure,” Elijah said. “But forgiveness by no means clears you of guilt, and for that you must pay a separate price of redemption.”

  “Me!” I screamed, finally finding the courage to offer myself up. “Not him. I was the one who left to find Luke. I was the one who ran from you. Not James.”

  “Trust me in this,” Elijah said. “This is a punishment you will not soon forget.”

  He turned to James and laid the gentlest of kisses on the side of his head. “By all that is holy, I release you from the confines of this world.”

  Thirty-Five

  The blade pierced James’s pale skin. His body went rigid in fear and Elijah paused, sinking the knife deeper until more and more of the gleaming silver disappeared and the first hint of blood trickled out.

  James gasped as Elijah pulled back, pausing long enough to smile at me before sinking the sharp edge fully into the boy’s throat. With one fluid motion, Elijah swept the knife straight across, leaving behind a gaping red smile in James’s neck.

  Clutching at his throat, James fell to his knees. His lips parted in a silent scream as his startled gaze met mine, fear eclipsing his pain. The blood pulsed out in rhythmic intervals, each spurt hanging in the air for what felt like an eternity before raining to the ground in a hideous red trail.

  The puddle of red grew from three feet to five, spreading out until my clogs were bathed in it. I counted five spurts before he gurgled, as if choking on his own blood.

  James reached out for me, one hand latching on to the bottom of my skirt. I jumped back and collided with Mike. The force of my movement sent us both tumbling backward, Mike struggling under Luke’s weight and me scrambling to get as far away from James’s panicked stare as possible.

  I landed on my butt, Mike and Luke splayed out next to me on the road. Joseph grabbed both my shoulders and pulled me up, his hands shaking as he tucked me into his shoulder. Mike jumped to his feet next to us, then crouched down like he was preparing to attack. He reminded me of Luke, the determined look, the rigid set of his shoulders not so different from Luke’s stance on the defensive line. Except this wasn’t a two-hundred-pound offensive guard from Long Island. This was an insane man with a God-complex wielding a knife.

  “Mike, don’t.”

  He ignored me, dropped his head, and surged forward, hitting Elijah’s body with such force that the knife flew through the air. It hit the pavement, the clash of the metal against the road thundering through the darkness.

  I circled behind them looking for the knife, begging the moon to appear long enough for me to find it. The sound of a fist hitting bone echoed through the clear air. All I could make out were two hazy figures locked in battle, and I wondered if it was Elijah’s jaw or Mike’s knuckles taking most of the damage.

  The clouds shifted, and I finally caught a glimpse of Elijah. His head was tilted back against the pavement as he took Mike’s next blow. I watched in disbelief as Elijah’s hand shot out to his left, the blade I was searching for now lodged in his hand.

  “Joseph!” I screamed.

  I sprinted forward when Joseph didn’t move, pissed that he was staring into the distance rather than helping me. Helping Mike.

  A hint of laughter escaped Elijah’s lips as his fingers tensed around the hilt of the knife. Mike pulled his hand back, his entire body trembling with rage. He let his fist fly, and that’s when Elijah struck, drove the knife upward, sinking it hilt-deep into Mike’s shoulder. Mike never saw it coming; he was too focused on pummeling Elijah into the ground to notice the danger.

  I caught Mike’s body as he fell. His fingers wrapped around the blade protruding from his shoulder. He tensed, releasing his grip on the knife, then grabbe
d it again. I knew what he was preparing to do, knew it was going to hurt more coming out than it did going in.

  I tried to drag Mike away from Elijah, but he dug his heels into the ground, forcing me to stop. He ground his teeth shut and pulled, wincing as the blade slowly emerged from his skin, red and gleaming sharp. Gasping, Mike doubled over and struggled to catch his breath, never once letting go of the knife he now held in his hand.

  I heard frantic whispering behind me and spun around in time to see what had Joseph paralyzed. Eden was at the edge of the field, her face ashen. Beside her, Abram stood clutching his own throat as he stared at his twin brother’s body splayed out on the road. Abram was in shock, his body too still, too silent in the midst of the chaos unfolding around us.

  “Joseph help me,” I yelled. I didn’t have time for Eden’s fear or Abram’s pain. I needed to get Mike out of here. I needed to get us out of here.

  Joseph suddenly snapped into motion, running over to me and Mike. “Keep pressure on it,” he said sharply as he pushed me aside and ripped open Mike’s shirt.

  I nodded numbly, torn between helping Mike and keeping an eye on Elijah, who was struggling to get up. Elijah may have been hurt, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think we were safe. Part of me swore that the evil coursing through his veins had some superhuman origins, one derived not from God but from the devil himself. I knew Elijah would get up. No matter how hurt, no matter how illogical it seemed, Elijah Hawkins would get up.

  “Take this,” I said as I tore a strip of fabric off the bottom of my skirt and handed it to Joseph. It was covered in dirt and blood—both Luke’s and James’s—but it was all I had

  Joseph tied it around Mike’s shoulder, lifting him slightly to get a tighter fit, then yanked so hard that the fabric tore. He looped it around again and tied it off.

  Mike moaned under the pressure and slammed his eyes shut as he cursed Elijah. “I’m going to kill you. I swear to God, I am going to kill you!”

  Footsteps echoed against the pavement. The stride was even, slow, and methodical. I counted those steps the same way I counted the spurts of James’s blood, waiting for the inevitable and powerless to stop it.

  Abram continued his advance, his movements that of a sleepwalking man. He stopped mere inches from us, then reached out and yanked the knife from Mike’s grip. His hand trembled as he turned it over and over, his brother’s and Mike’s blood now coating his fingers.

  Panic overwhelmed me as Abram made his way toward Elijah. “Abram, don’t,” I said. I’d already seen enough people die today. “Please, he’s not worth it. Leave him there and come with us.”

  Abram didn’t acknowledge my plea. He just kept walking. Past me. Past Mike. Past his own dead brother until he stood over Elijah’s beaten body.

  Elijah flinched. It was a subtle move, nothing more than a tiny twitch of the jaw and a hesitation in the way he pushed himself up off the ground. For the first time since we’d stumbled into Purity Springs, we posed a threat. His precious Eden had seen him for who he truly was. His only son, the future of his blessed prophecy, had turned on him. And Abram was glaring down at him with the full intent of gutting his own uncle.

  Elijah’s gaze swept from Joseph to me before settling on Eden. She was still standing at the edge of the fields, staring at the pool of blood circling James’s body.

  “Eden, go,” he yelled, commanding her into motion. “Go back to the community center. Tell them of the evil these four have brought forth and bring your uncles back with you.”

  Eden hesitated, took a tiny step forward, then stopped, horror and disbelief etched on her face. Whatever innocence she’d managed to maintain was gone, destroyed the second she’d seen her father’s blood-soaked hands.

  “Eden?” Joseph inched toward her, his hands held out as if he was begging her not to be frightened. “Come with us. You don’t have to stay here.”

  Elijah smirked. “And who would take care of you on the outside, Eden? Who would keep you safe? Who would keep your actions in line with God’s will?”

  “I will. I will keep you safe, Eden.”

  The sincerity in Joseph’s voice was so strong, so honest, that it tore my heart in two. I knew he was telling the truth. He’d walk through the fires of hell for his sister, and right now, he was going to risking his life for the chance to do it.

  “Remember what you’ve been taught, Eden. Nothing but vanity, greed, and evil lurk beyond this town. They are proof if it,” Elijah said, sweeping a hand in my direction.

  Joseph paled. I couldn’t help but wonder if he believed his father, if somehow, even for a fleeting moment, he held me responsible for his cousin’s death.

  “Don’t lis—” I started to say, but Joseph cut me off.

  “He’s lying, Eden,” Joseph said. “He killed our mother. He shunned Aunt Mary and barred her from ever seeing James and Abram. He killed a boy my age, a complete stranger who’d done nothing to hurt him or this town. His only sin, their only sin”—Joseph motioned toward Mike and me—“was running out of gas, and yet for that he killed one of them.”

  Eden didn’t respond. Her attention was on Joseph, but her mind appeared to be a thousand miles away.

  “You saw him kill James. His own nephew,” Joseph continued. “For what, Eden? Because God told him to? Because he was trying to keep this town pure? No God is that evil, Eden. No God!”

  “Joseph?” Her voice quivered as she took a tentative step forward.

  Joseph sighed, his posture relaxing as he held her hand out to her. “Yes, Eden?”

  “I love you,” she said, and then she turned and ran.

  Thirty-Six

  Joseph dropped to his knees, the tears slipping from his eyes as he watched his sister run back toward town, back to a life that she’d never escape.

  Elijah struggled to his feet, gagging on the mist of red he coughed up. The side of his lip was split and blood trailed from his nose, mingling with the smile etched on his face.

  “Eden will bring them back,” he crooned. “You will not escape judgment. You will perish because you refused, refused, to see the truth and be saved. What awaits you is not resurrection but damnation.”

  Joseph studied his father, not a hint of defeat in his posture, not a glint of anger in his eyes. I had no idea what he was thinking, no clue what he was preparing to do.

  “You,” he finally said. “You’re no prophet. No saint. You’re nothing.”

  Joseph stalked toward Elijah, his movements slow and steady. He looked at Abram clutching the blade and motioned for him to move. Abram hesitated, then shuffled slightly, his features twisted in confusion.

  “You killed my mother. You killed James. You killed Dee’s boyfriend. Eventually, you’ll kill me too.”

  Elijah shook his head. “I didn’t kill anyone, Joseph. I gave them a choice, and they chose wrong.”

  I could practically see Joseph’s resolve solidifying. He’d spent months planning their escape, trying desperately to preserve Eden’s innocence and his own sanity. Now he’d bathe in his own father’s blood if that was what it took.

  “Joseph, please. Don’t do this,” I begged. I felt the desire for revenge pulsing through my body too, craved that sliver of satisfaction I’d get from watching Elijah die a cold, hard death at my own hands. But if we stayed here any longer, we were screwed. I had no doubt Eden would bring the entire town back with her, and I wanted to be long gone when that happened. “Leave him and let’s go.”

  “Your God’s will is no match for mine!” Joseph yelled, ignoring my plea. He launched himself at his father, twisting Elijah’s arm behind his back. “I watched you inflict pain on those who strayed. I memorized every sadistic punishment you used on me. And I must say, Father, you taught me well.”

  I winced as Joseph gave one last heave upward and a dull crack broke through the thick night air. Elijah screamed, his face c
ontorting in a mixture of shock and pain.

  Joseph released him and shoved him to the ground, hovering above his father as if trying to decide what to do next. He made up his mind, and a calm determination settled over him. Elijah had taken his childhood, his mother, and his sister. Now Joseph was going to take his life.

  I tried to drown out the sound of Joseph’s attack. Elijah’s grunts had become nothing but a steady stream of gurgling moans. Bone against body. Skin against skin. The punches came one after another. I stopped counting when I hit double digits and started humming to myself, trying to drown them all out.

  “Stop.” The word flew from my mouth and Mike swung his head in my direction, as stunned with my plea as me. But I couldn’t do it, couldn’t stand there and watch Joseph pummel his father into the ground. No matter how much I hated this town, no matter how much I wanted this twisted man to pay for Luke’s death, I would not become him. And I sure as hell wouldn’t let Joseph either.

  “Joseph, please. Stop.”

  Eventually, I heard silence. Joseph’s deathly promises died out, giving way to a terrifying calm. I swallowed hard as I looked at Elijah’s body. His breaths were shallow, his chest rising in jerky movements. He was alive; barely, but he was alive.

  “We gotta go,” I choked out. It was only a matter of time before Eden came back with her uncles and Elijah’s loyal following in tow. If we were lucky, if we left now, maybe we’d have a ten-minute head start.

  Splatters of blood shone on Joseph’s face, and his eyes were dark but not apologetic. He had years of emotional crap to sort through, and if anyone knew how painfully screwed up that road was going to be, it was me. But now wasn’t the time.

  “Can you walk?” I asked Mike. It was obvious he was in pain. He was shaking, and his jaw was clenched so tight I wondered how he could breathe.

  “I’m fine, Dee. Just give me a minute,” he ground out and slowly straightened up. “Go get him.”

  I followed Mike’s line of site across the street and saw Abram sitting on the ground next to James’s body, mumbling something incoherent. He looked broken, hollow to the point that I doubted he even knew where he was anymore. All I could hear was what sounded like a nursery rhyme traveling in the wind between us.