Did anything matter anymore? Owen was gone from her, different, holed up with Luna, and everything in the tablet was coming true. The Children of the Earth had arrived in Carbon County, and they had powers—powers that, if used properly, could bring Carbon County to its knees.
And what did Daphne have? Cryptic visions that turned opaque when examined too closely, visions that she felt—but did not know and could not prove—came from God.
In those visions Owen was a demon, drawing fire down from the mountains. The earth rumbled and divided, the Children of God on one side and the Children of the Earth on the other. There was a battle, with weapons, but she was on the wrong side. Why?
She shivered beneath the afghan. She couldn’t shake the image of the figure falling, endlessly, into the chasm, couldn’t ignore the sense of loss she felt whenever that image played over in her mind. She pulled the afghan over her head and closed her eyes, letting the hot, close darkness pull her back down into sleep . . .
• • •
She woke from a fitful slumber at the sound of voices coming from the kitchen, low and thick with worry. Daphne shrugged off the last slivers of sleep and peered over the back of the couch. Floyd and Karen were huddled at the kitchen table, their faces worn and creased with concern. Opposite them was a wide, slumped back in a green fleece jacket.
A sour feeling rose in Daphne’s stomach. She’d know the creased and reddened skin of that thick neck anywhere. Doug was in the trailer, and whatever he was telling the Peytons wasn’t good.
“. . . just can’t find her anywhere.” He spread his hands on the table. “I thought she was here, but when I called, you guys said you hadn’t seen her, and then I got worried. I’ve been calling and texting her nonstop . . . nothing. I called Pastor Ted and Hilary and all our old buddies from high school. I even called the police. Nobody’s heard a word.”
“Find who?” Daphne climbed off the couch, tossing her fatigue aside with the afghan.
Doug looked up at her, surprised, and she recoiled at the sight of his face. His skin was rumpled and gray, his chin dotted with stubble too thick to be a five-o’clock shadow. His hair was greasy and uncombed, his clothes slack with the worn-in look of having been slept in. Or stayed-up-all-night in, given the broken blood vessels spreading across his eyes.
She expected Doug to bristle the way he always did when she was around. She knew she represented rejection for him, and Doug had never handled that like a man. Instead, he sighed and put his head in his hands.
“Janie.” The word came out like a sob.
“Janie’s missing.” There was a sigh in Uncle Floyd’s pale blue eyes as he looked up at Daphne, filling in the blanks. “We’ve been working with Doug to figure out where she might have gone, but right now—well, it’s not looking so good.”
“Oh, God.” Daphne gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady herself.
“I know.” Floyd’s voice was grave. “It’s disturbing, what with the sheriff and everything. We’re trying to make the best of it, but we’re all pretty scared.”
“No.” Daphne screwed her eyes shut to keep the world from spinning out of control. Her worst nightmares were coming true. Janie was gone, probably sucked into the vortex of the Children of the Earth. And it was all Daphne’s fault. If she’d spoken up as soon as she learned that more of the predictions in the tablet were coming true, if she’d told her aunt and uncle about seeing Janie with Ciaran, then her cousin might be safe at home that very minute. She had to come clean with them now, before the Children of the Earth did to Janie what she now suspected they’d done to the sheriff. She didn’t have any time to lose.
“I have to tell you all something,” she said, taking a seat across the table from Doug. “Something about where Janie might be. And, to be honest, it’s something I probably should have told you as soon as I knew.”
Doug leaned toward her, hope burning in his eyes. “All I want is to get her home safe.”
“I know.” It was hard to believe that she and Doug finally agreed on something, but the pain in his eyes was too real for even a first-rate bullshit artist like Doug to fake. He was as worried as Daphne was—and somehow, underneath it all, it was obvious how much he loved his wife.
Daphne took a deep breath. “I think Janie’s with a guy named Ciaran who works up at the Vein,” she said shakily.
“That place?” Doug’s face reddened. “Why’d you think that?”
“Because.” She forced herself to look into his bloodshot, watery eyes. “I saw them kissing the other night. I’m sorry, Doug. I should have said something sooner.”
“Oh.” She watched him deflate in front of her, sinking low in his seat until his forehead hit the table with a soft bump. His shoulders started shaking, and wet huffing noises leaked out. “I guess I deserve it,” he snuffled. “I wasn’t good to her. I ignored her and used her. She was just so sad, and I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do.” He collapsed into another crying jag.
“We have to hurry,” Daphne said, hoping it wasn’t already too late. “We have to find her and get her away from the Children of the Earth. They’re dangerous.”
“The Children of the Earth?” Floyd jerked upright. “Like in the tablet?”
“Yes.” Daphne looked down at her hands, realizing that she’d been twisting her fingers in her lap until they were the color of bone. “That’s the other thing you need to know. The Children of the Earth are here—all of them. They’re the ones who run the Vein.”
“Oh, Daphne.” Aunt Karen’s eyes were pink-rimmed with dismay. “How long have you known?”
“Too long. I should have told you as soon as I found out, but I wanted to make sure they were really as dangerous as I thought. Now I’m worried it may be too late.” Daphne’s voice cracked. Betraying the Peytons’ trust was the last thing she wanted, and disappointing them hurt more than she could bear. But she’d brought it upon herself, evading the truth like it was on fire. Now she had to face the consequences.
“There’s another reason I didn’t tell you.” The words hurt her throat. “Owen’s one of them, and I didn’t want anyone to hurt him because . . . well, because I love him. I thought he was on my side then. I know better now.”
She looked from her aunt to her uncle, but it was like a gate had fallen between them. She knew better than to count on them for comfort after keeping them in the dark for so long.
“I’m disappointed in you, Daphne.” Her uncle’s voice thrummed with regret. “I would hope that, after everything, you’d at least be able to confide in us.”
Daphne shook her head. “I just didn’t know what to do. I know I’m supposed to be the prophet. I’m supposed to lead everyone in this battle. But I barely know what to do myself.”
Floyd placed a large, rough hand over hers. “We never expected you to have all the answers. We know you’re still human, prophet or not. But it troubles me that, after everything, you still felt like you couldn’t trust us. We’re here to help you, even when you don’t know what to do. That’s what being a family is all about.”
His words touched the tenderest places in her heart. She didn’t know what to say, only that she’d been alone so long, so used to making decisions on her own, that it had barely occurred to her to talk to someone else about her problems. She was used to not having anyone to turn to for answers; she’d grown accustomed to trying to solve everything by herself.
“Oh, Floyd, maybe we were all too hard on her.” Aunt Karen reached across the table and placed a soft hand on Daphne’s. “We thought that just because she could talk to God, she’d turn into a leader overnight. We forgot that she’s still barely more than a child.”
“No.” Daphne forced herself to look them in the eye, one after the other. “Uncle Floyd is right. I shouldn’t have kept this a secret. I’m sorry I betrayed your trust. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Guys, there isn’t time for this!” Doug sat up suddenly, the skin around his eyes raw and puffy, his hair standing up at all angles. “We have to go find Janie. If she’s with Luna and all them, that’s no joke. I know what that girl can do—she can get inside people’s minds. It’s some scary shit. And if she does it to Janie . . .” He trailed off, shoulders trembling.
“You know about that?” Daphne asked. “About what Luna can do?”
Doug shivered. “She did it to me. She got inside my mind and made me do whatever she wanted. It was like being a puppet.”
The Peytons looked from Doug to Daphne and back again, their mouths round with shock.
“It sounds crazy, but he’s right,” Daphne said, standing abruptly. She was still shaky from her confession to the Peytons, but there was no time to wallow. “The Children of the Earth have special powers. We shouldn’t go up against them on our own.”
Floyd nodded, already grabbing his coat. “Should we call the police?” he asked.
“No.” Daphne bit her lip, thinking of the suspicion in Detective Fraczek’s eyes. “They wouldn’t even believe us, let alone help us. There’s only one place we can go for help now.”
23
FLOYD’S TIRES SQUEALED AS HE pulled into the expansive, newly paved parking lot of the brand-new Carbon County First Church of God. The building towered above them, its spire stretching proudly toward the heavens. It was done, finally, ready to host its first service that Sunday, to be a spiritual nexus huge enough to house all the worshippers who had poured into town to follow Pastor Ted and witness the Rapture.
They opened the church’s heavy front door, and a blast of fresh varnish wafted out at them. Hilary stood in the lobby, tacking a flyer about the youth group’s next bake sale to a virgin bulletin board.
“Daphne!” Hilary grinned, her curls shivering. “I’m so glad you decided to stop by! Wait’ll you see the inside, it’s so beautiful you’d think God designed it himself. C’mon, let me give you a tour.”
“I’m sorry, but there isn’t time,” Daphne said. “Hil, Janie’s missing. We think she’s in danger.”
“Oh no.” Hilary’s face went white. “I’ll take you to Pastor Ted.”
Daphne, Floyd, Karen, and Doug followed her through a side door and down a long corridor. She stopped at a door bearing a small gold plaque that read Pastor Ted.
The pastor’s office was larger than Daphne had expected. It was carpeted in thick Oriental rugs and decorated with photographs from his TV appearances blown up to poster size. Boxes of books sat unopened on the floor.
“Daphne!” A smile spread across Pastor Ted’s wide, easygoing face. “How lovely to see you. Come in, please, and have a seat.”
“I’m afraid this isn’t exactly a social visit.” Daphne perched on the edge of a purple brocade wing chair. “I’m just going to be blunt, Pastor Ted: The Children of the Earth are here in Carbon County, and we think they have Janie. They’re dangerous and powerful—I’m pretty sure they’re the ones behind what happened to the sheriff. If we don’t find Janie soon, they could do that to her.”
“My God.” The pastor sank heavily into his leather swivel chair. “Go on, my child.”
Quickly and dispassionately, not wanting to linger on any of the sordid details, Daphne told him the whole story. As she spoke, the air seemed to leave the room, and she felt not only Pastor Ted but also Hilary, Doug, and her aunt and uncle leaning into her words. She saw Pastor Ted flinch when she explained her relationship with Owen, and she knew she’d let him down. She’d let them all down, all the people who had trusted her, who had viewed her as a leader. But that was over now. Now she’d do whatever she could to bring peace to the town and to get Janie home safe and sound.
“So let me get this straight,” Pastor Ted said when she’d finished. “The Children of the Earth are up at the Vein, and they’ve captured Janie. Now we need to go rescue her?”
“I think so,” Daphne agreed. “Maybe ‘captured’ is the wrong word—it’s more like ‘brainwashed.’ I’ve seen them do it before. I know how powerful they can be.”
“It’s messed up!” Doug cut in, his voice hoarse with emotion. “That Luna, she just gets in your head. She can make you do anything. And Janie was so messed up to begin with . . .” He took a shaky breath and buried his head in his sleeve, unable to go on.
“Is it time?” Hilary shot Pastor Ted a cautious glance.
“I think so.” The pastor stood abruptly.
“Time for what?” Daphne asked, looking from one to the other.
But nobody answered.
“Come with me,” Hilary commanded, her voice suddenly cold. She led the group out of the office and down the hallway to an unmarked metal door. The air grew chillier as they entered a stairwell, Hilary’s corkscrew curls marching in time to her footsteps as she bounded down the stairs.
“We’re still putting the finishing touches on the basement,” Pastor Ted explained as they descended. “But there’ll be daycare and rooms for all the Sunday school groups, a teen center with a rec room that has ping-pong and shuffleboard, even a movie theater for screening Bible epics. I’ll tell you, Floyd Peyton, your money is being well spent.”
Floyd grunted politely, but it was obvious that as long as his daughter was missing, his investment in the church was the last thing on his mind.
“This way.” Hilary stopped at an unmarked black door and punched a code into its keypad, her movements crisp and efficient. The keypad beeped and glowed red, and she pushed open the door, ushering all of them through before snapping on the light.
“Whoa.” Daphne stepped back, startled. Floor-to-ceiling racks covered the walls. They held every possible type of gun, from tiny pistols to massive, gleaming semiautomatics. Neatly labeled artillery bins lined the floor, and missiles like giant squid stood at attention behind locked cabinets.
“What is all this?” Daphne stuttered, blinking rapidly as she looked around.
“Weapons,” Hilary answered matter-of-factly. “For the Rapture.”
Pastor Ted gripped Daphne’s hand, a burning fervor in his deep blue eyes. “We knew it was coming.” His voice was urgent. “We knew it because of you. You’re the one who translated the tablet, whose visions foretold a great battle between good and evil, the Battle of the Great Divide. And what’s a battle without ammunition?”
“Look.” Hilary led her to another door at the rear of the room. She reached into a cabinet and pulled out a pair of bug-like noise-cancelling headphones and protective plexiglass eyeshades. “Put these on.”
Numbed into compliance, Daphne did what she was told, watching in shock as Hilary donned a matching pair. The youth group leader keyed a different, longer code into the keypad and pushed open the door.
Even with the headphones, the noise was deafening. Guns exploded in endless arcs before her, the sound ricocheting off the concrete walls, the air thick with the smell of hot metal and gunpowder. They were in an underground firing range, and as the shooters paused to get a look at the newcomers, Daphne realized that she recognized their faces. There was Mark from Cincinnati, and Monica, who had worn the cool vintage housedress to the church picnic and suggested a Roaring Twenties–themed party for a fundraiser.
Monica wasn’t wearing a housedress anymore. Clad in camo from head to toe, the members of the youth group had abandoned their welcoming smiles. Adrenaline clenched their jaws shut, and their fingers were tight around the triggers of semiautomatics. They may have been separated from Daphne by bulletproof glass, but their expressions were unmistakable. No matter how or where it happened, they were ready for battle. And when that battle occurred, they’d be out for blood.
Daphne had seen this before. She’d seen these people, carrying these weapons, in her last vision. She shivered, realizing what this meant: The visions weren’t just messages. They were predictions, foretelling what was to come.
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Hilary pressed an intercom, and her voice boomed from speakers inlaid in the ceiling. “Hey, everyone!” she called. “It’s time. Reload your weapons, stock up on ammo, and get ready to fight.”
A joyful cheer rose from the shooting lanes, making Daphne feel sick to her stomach. These kids weren’t just prepping for battle because they felt they had to, Daphne realized; they wanted to. They’d seemed enthusiastic about the community project and teen center, but this was what really got their blood pumping, was probably what had drawn them to Carbon County in the first place. Pastor Ted had preached on national TV promising a war, and, more than any other reason, they had come to fight.
“Take your pick, Daphne.” Pastor Ted swept his hand across the room, indicating the stockpile of weapons. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
Her heart caught mid-beat as she scanned the crowd and realized she was the only one unarmed. While she had been in the shooting range Pastor Ted had donned a hip holster loaded with a pair of silver pistols. Aunt Karen ran her hands admiringly over the barrel of a compact Remington, and Floyd, scowling uncomfortably, hefted a hunting rifle over each shoulder. Doug cradled an AK-47, two ammunition belts crisscrossed over his puffy green jacket.
Daphne’s throat constricted. Being in the armory made her uncomfortable—but not as uncomfortable as the way the people she loved seemed to morph into something cold and ugly the moment they had a weapon in their hands. She didn’t want that to happen to her, too.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked. “I’ve been having seizures. What if I set it off by accident? Someone could get hurt.”
“Someone’s already been hurt,” Pastor Ted said grimly. “Daphne, you’re our prophet. I may be a figurehead, but you’re our real leader, the one with the direct line to God. We need you to lead this fight.”
Children of the Earth Page 18
