by Boo Walker
I began to gain control of my mind again and looked around. Jameson had walked over to the naked woman. Her limbs were still tied to the corners of the table, and she was unconscious. She had long blonde hair, a tall forehead, and a face covered in makeup that her tears had melted. She was a plumper woman on the top and bottom but had a tight waist. Her breasts fell to either side of her rib cage, and her thick legs were flattened against the wood. Jameson stood on the other side of the table from me. He gently stroked her face. Once the men had made sure I wasn’t going anywhere, Jameson looked at them. “All set?”
They nodded.
“Good. No more interruptions.”
He slapped the woman’s face, attempting to wake her. She didn’t move. He leaned down very close to her face, breathing on her, whispering to her. He slapped her again. “Wake up!” he yelled.
Her eyelids lifted a little.
Jameson brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes and whispered in her ear, “It’s time, my darling. Time to wake up after a lifetime of sleeping. It all begins here.”
Her terrified eyes opened wide and she began to plead. Jameson threw a hand over her mouth. Still speaking very calmly and quietly, he said, “Now what did I tell you about that? Don’t make a peep, okay?”
She didn’t move. Her eyes couldn’t have been any wider.
“Okay?” he said again.
She nodded. He lifted his hand from her mouth and she said, “Okay.”
Jameson stood back up and walked toward the fireplace. The poor woman tilted her head and we made eye contact. When she saw the tape over my face and the rope binding my chest, she gasped.
I pushed myself up and pulled with my hands, trying to break free of the rope. I wasn’t even close, but I ended up knocking the chair over, and going down with it.
A fist came flying into my jaw, furthering the trauma to my brain. “We won’t have that again, eh,” the Canadian said, lifting me and the chair back up.
There was absolutely nothing I could do, and I had very little idea of what was happening, but there was a pretty good chance this woman was about to be burned.
Jameson came back into view, holding the same branding iron he had earlier. It had thick padding at the end so it wouldn’t burn his hands; it looked like rags had been taped around it. The tip was glowing. “Mr. Knox, don’t let me see that again.”
Upon eyeing the glowing iron, the woman began pleading again. “No, no. Please. I’ll do anything you ask. Just…no. Don’t hurt me.”
“Shhhh…” Jameson whispered. And in a creepy, slow, quiet speech, Jameson’s voice took over the room. “Compared to burning in the fires of hell for all eternity, this won’t hurt at all, Ms. Dorachek. Not one bit. I’m saving your life right now.” He had the iron in his left hand, and he held it high in the air. With his right hand, he reached into a bowl that was sitting on the windowsill. His fingers came up dripping with water. He threw his hand at the woman, splattering water across her body. “Let this holy water cleanse your soul and remove the darkness that has taken hold.”
He reached for more water and threw it at her again. His voice grew louder and shook with vibrato. “Dear Lord Father, cleanse this poor girl in the Holy Spirit and send the darkness away. I baptize you in the name of the Holy Spirit.” She was crying uncontrollably. He dipped his hand in again and threw it at her. “From this day forward, you will no longer walk the path of a sinner. You will join us in the coming days as we fight our battle against the sinners.” And again. His hand went to the bowl, he cast his hand toward her, and water splashed across her face and body.
He lifted the iron.
“No!” the other guy who’d been quiet suddenly shouted. “Please stop!”
I looked over. He was much younger, maybe not even twenty. Looked like he’d walked right out of Sunday School. His words lacked any conviction, any sense of strength. His baby face and curly hair made it even worse. “Please, Jameson. This is not what God would want. You know that.” His pleading sounded nearly absurd.
Jameson whipped his head toward him, gritting his teeth. Then, after a couple of seconds, he left his position and walked up to the young man. With the iron still in one hand, he raised the other hand and backhanded the young man across the face.
“Not another word out of your mouth, Elvin! She is a sinner.” He shook his head in disgust. “You poor, innocent boy, you have a lot to learn.”
Elvin shut up. He appeared to be way out of his element.
Jameson went back to his position and took the safe end of the poker with both hands and raised it high in the air. “Behold He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even those who pierced Him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of Him.” Jameson crossed himself and continued, “The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!” He repeated it several times, and the other two men standing there were crossing themselves, whispering their own prayers. The woman screamed and her body writhed as she desperately sought to free herself. He began to bring the glowing red iron down toward her stomach, and I kicked and screamed, but there was nothing I could do, either.
The iron met her skin just above the waistline on the left side, and she screamed loud and deep. The dogs howled. Smoke rose and the smell of burning flesh assaulted me. Jameson screamed, “You are free, child! You are free!”
He removed the branding iron from her stomach. It peeled off the skin and a large blister rose up.
Her crying seemed to slow now, and she stopped pulling at the rope wrapped around her wrists and ankles. I could see blood at one wrist where she had tried to rip her way free. She was in shock, and I was surprised she hadn’t passed out.
There was nothing I could do. I was utterly helpless.
Jameson returned the glowing stick to the fireplace and walked back slowly. “You see, Mr. Knox. It’s as easy as that. Ms. Dorachek is free. Her path will still be rocky, but she is free now to walk it.” He came around the table again and reached out and stroked her face. “Isn’t that right, Ms. Dorachek?” He leaned over, staring deeply into her eyes. “Isn’t that right?”
Scared, she shut her eyes, and it looked like she was squeezing them as tight as she could, as if the harder she squeezed, the further away she could be. I pulled again at my binds, but I knew I was wasting time and energy.
He continued to stroke her face. “It’s time we choose whose side we’re on.” Then he looked up at me. “Whose side are you on, Mr. Knox?”
He nodded at one of the men, and they ripped the tape from my face. I took a huge gulp of air, and then opened my mouth and stared at him. “You crazy son of a bitch. I’m going to kill you!”
“Now, now, that’s no way to speak. I’m just asking whose side you’re on.”
“Look at me,” I said. “Look me in the eyes. Deep in the eyes.”
He did.
“I will put a bullet in your brain.”
“I think you need to be cleansed,” he said. “You’ll be fine soon. Perhaps even walk with us one day. That’s the plan.”
I glared at him.
“It all begins on this table,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. Then he began to saw at the rope holding the woman’s left wrist. Speaking to the two other men, he ordered, “Gentlemen, clear Ms. Dorachek from the table and get her resting on the couch. We have more work to do.”
“You’re a lunatic,” I said.
He looked at me again. “Mr. Knox…you’re next.”
CHAPTER 30
They lifted Ms. Dorachek off the table and gave her a sip of water. She nearly collapsed as they guided her to the couch behind us. I think she’d lost the energy to cry or fight anymore. I watched them tie her legs and feet, while Jameson went to the kitchen and washed his hands.
“You get his neck, Elvin,” the Canadian said. “Hold him tight.”
A hand went around my neck. They covered my mouth back up. Then the Canadian unwrapped the rope a
round my chest and freed my ankles. Elvin squeezed tight, following his orders. I’d be damned if they were going to burn that mark on my skin. Though my opportunities of getting out of it were dwindling away.
I was angry with Francesca. Where was she? If they’d caught her, then she would have been right here with me. A poisonous thought kept creeping into my head. Had she led me to them? Was she part of it? But that made no sense. How could she be involved in all this? Unless they had been targeting me long before Ted had brought me in, which would also possibly implicate Ted. I didn’t want to believe it. Either way, I didn’t need any answers right at the moment. I just needed Francesca to walk in the door and start pulling the trigger.
They started to lift me and I went dead weight. Wasn’t about to help them. Not that they needed any. They lifted me up and slammed my back onto the table. Jameson held my hair tight by the scalp while the two men tied my legs up near the corners. Then they came up and did the same with my arms, wrapping my wrists tightly and cinching them down. I could feel the rope cutting the skin, just like it had done with the woman.
I was pulling at all four corners when Jameson said, “There’s no use. The Lord has a plan for you, and it begins here on this table.” He leaned down and unbuttoned my shirt. “Don’t bother fighting it.”
I stared him in the eyes, not letting him win this battle. The other two had backed off now, watching Jameson at work. Elvin looked terrified but he certainly wasn’t intervening. Once Jameson had unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it away from my chest and stomach, exposing flesh, he stepped away and went to the fireplace. I eyed the window and thought I caught a flash of movement, but I stared longer, and there was nothing. I looked at Elvin and the Canadian, and they were now calm and reverent, waiting on the ceremony.
I heard the iron being pulled out of the fire and then Jameson’s boots moving back toward me. Then I saw the red glow. I pulled harder on the ropes to no avail.
I didn’t have any options.
He stood on the side of the table, and just like he’d done with the woman, Ms. Dorachek, he held the branding iron high in one hand and began to dip his hands in the bowl of holy water. As he threw his hand at me, water splattered across my chest and face, and he began to speak in a near chant. “By the power vested in me by God, I now step into your life and pull you away from the path of the devil. May you sin no more!” He reached in and threw more water at me, spewing more bullshit out of his mouth, throwing more and more water.
He raised the iron even higher and took it with both hands and began, “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned. May the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit cleanse your soul, Harper Knox. It is our path to save even the weak ones, so says the Lord.”
I shook and pulled and screamed through the tape as I stared at the red-hot triskelion hovering just above me. Sweat was rolling down the side of my face and I turned and twisted, but they had the ropes so damn tight that I was helpless.
He kept repeating the same words, “The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” as he lowered the branding iron down toward my abdomen.
You’ve never seen someone squirm so much in your life. I had twisted so far to the right side—away from him—that I’d just about disconnected my femur from my hip. That’s when the Canadian got pissed. I felt him slam my knees against the table, straightening my legs. Then he hammered a fist into the side of my knee, which hurt like hell.
A lot of demons were coming up inside of me, stirring this nightmare. My brain was losing control. The feeling was all too real and familiar. I could hear those voices from the past, the two Afghanis attempting to interrogate me, ignoring the fact that I couldn’t speak their tribal babble, hitting me with a metal bar in the shins relentlessly, bringing pain that I can still feel from time to time.
Then the burn of the branding iron hit me. Hard. Seared right up from my abdomen to my skull. For a moment, I didn’t know where the iron touched me. My eyes welled up with tears, and I could hear the muffled sound of my own yells.
Jameson’s eyes met mine. He was still holding the iron down, pressing it against me. My eyes went from his eyes, down the length of the iron, to the left side of my abdomen. As he began to pull away, I saw what he’d done to me. He’d marked me just like the rest of them.
It was a mark I would live with forever. The triskelion.
I finally settled down as he stepped away from me and returned the poker to the fire. I looked at my stomach again. The blister had swollen up more than an inch from the skin. He came back and poured some water from a bottle into my mouth. I welcomed it.
As I swallowed, he said, “What happens now, you’re wondering.”
I looked at him. In fact, that was what I had been wondering.
“Now, your education begins. How you will be used, I do not know yet. We’ll have time to figure that out, but there is plenty of work to do. We need people like you. But I know you’re going to take longer to break than the others. Still, no one is unbreakable. Not for God.” Jameson looked at his two men, pointed his finger at me, and said, “You keep a gun on him.”
The men nodded.
Then Jameson said, “Take them home. I will see you there. Keys are in the car. I’ll take the dogs.” As he stepped away, he crossed himself and said to me, “See you on the other side.”
With that, he walked out of the cabin. I heard a car start and then the gravel churn as he sped away.
“I don’t know if I like this,” Elvin, the weak one, said.
“Get over it, boy,” the Canadian replied. “You’re going to get yourself killed. Now, get his arms tied back up behind him.” He picked up a gun off the kitchen counter and pointed it at me. “You make a move, I’ll shoot you.”
I was in pretty bad shape, but without the gun, I could have taken them. With it, there wasn’t much I could do. Elvin cut me loose from the table and tied my hands back behind my back. Then he draped some kind of bag over my head. Everything went black. The air got tight. I slowed my breathing.
They opened the door and led me out.
“Steps,” one of them said to me. After missing the first one, I found my footing and worked my way down.
They led me across the gravel and pushed me into the trunk of a car. It had to have been that old Mercedes.
“Elvin, don’t just stand there,” the Canadian said. “Are you an idiot? Go get her.” A minute later, they threw the girl on top of me. She was awake now. Crying badly. I could feel that they’d covered her with some sort of wool blanket. I moved over so that she slid to my side. I felt her back against my chest.
Then the trunk shut.
III
“Isn’t me, have a seed
Let me clip your dirty wings
Let me take a ride, cut yourself
Want some help, please myself.
Got some rope, you have been told
Promise you, I have been true
Let me take a ride, cut yourself
Want some help, please myself.”
- Kurt Cobain
CHAPTER 31
I caught the beginning of a conversation as the two men made their way from the trunk to the front of the car. Elvin asked, “Do you think the Madonna will come around? What happens if she doesn’t? Maybe this isn’t God’s plan.”
“Doubt is the devil’s sword, boy. It will happen soon enough. Get out of your head. Have faith.”
“But—”
“But nothing! You keep your mouth shut and do as your told. You’re lucky to be one of us. Don’t forget that.”
Their voices turned to murmurs when the car doors shut. Then all I could hear was the sound of the motor as they started the car and the woman crying next to me.
“My name’s Harper Knox,” I said. I could taste the mildewy odor of the bag wrapped around my head. It must have been burlap.
She stopped crying for a minute. I waited for a response.
Nothing.
“
I’m one of the good guys. What’s your name?”
After a few seconds of silence, she said, “Leanne.”
“Well, Leanne, I have no idea what’s going on right now, but I’m going to figure a way out of it. Do you have any idea who these people are?”
She mumbled no.
The car started up and the driver peeled out, leaving in a hurry, taking on the bumps with little care.
Once we adjusted to the speed, I asked, “Are your hands free?”
“No. They tied them.”
“We’re going to be okay. People know where I am. We’ll get out of this. How’s the burn on your stomach feel?”
“It hurts.”
“Mine does, too.”
Out of nowhere, a shot rang out and a second later, we hit something. Full-blown force. I shut my eyes. The impact slung me into Leanne, and we both hit the top of the trunk as the car started to roll. The two of us bounced up and down, slamming against the top and bottom and sides. A sharp pain stung my shoulder and arm.
The car finally settled with one final jolt that threw us up into the air. We both came back down hard, and I heard the breath get knocked out of Leanne. The car was upside down.
The open door alarm was beeping repeatedly.
We both squirmed around a bit, finding—as best we could, considering the circumstances—more comfortable positions. I was closer to the lock of the trunk. She was right up next to me. I stretched out tall and felt my right shoulder swell with pain as I tried to find some oxygen in that claustrophobic burlap bag. I pushed at the trunk, hoping it might give, but we weren’t going anywhere.
