by Susan Shay
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Copying his frown, she tried to think what to do to bring the Mack she knew back into control. “What is it you want?”
His eyes kindled. “Cast your sins from you.”
Across the room, she could hear Miriam quietly sobbing. Shaking her head, Cassie backed against the wall. “I-I don’t know how. Help me, Mack.”
Face contorting with rage, he lunged toward her, then grasping her by the arms, hauled her to her feet. The air rushed from Cassie’s lungs with an explosion of thunder. The blast reverberated painfully against her eardrums as sight vanished. She struggled to see despite the hate obliterating the light.
Obey thy mother and father. An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth. Spare the rod and spoil the child.
The voice was falsetto, a woman in great turmoil. He quaked with fear of what was to come—what had come before.
Did I tell thee not to touch the stove?
Yes, Mother. His voice was that of a child still a long way from puberty. A child much too young to understand.
Then I must punish thee.
No, Mother. No! No!
Quick pressure was the only warning Cassie had that her blouse was being torn from her body. Startled, she blinked at Mack as she tried to understand what was happening. He reached for her skirt.
The child sobbed hysterically even as he understood the futility of his pleas. Not the first time he’d been punished.
Cassie cringed, wishing she could stop the child’s pain. Stop him from feeling the screaming agony as the woman held his arm to the glowing stove.
With a confusing flash, Cassie saw Mack ripping her lace bra to shreds as he tore it from her.
She put her hand over her ears, hoping to block out the child’s screaming as she understood the pointlessness of her action. But the sound was easy to stand compared to the stench of burning flesh. Stomach recoiling, she gagged at the smell, then the sight of the destroyed flesh burned high on his arm.
Naked except for her thong, Cassie edged away from Mack with a shake of her head. That she would remove herself. Anything was better than experiencing more of the suffering he’d lived through as a child. With as much dignity as possible, she stepped out of the scrap of lace and tossed it to the floor near her other things.
He glared at it in disgust. His mouth turned down as his nostrils flared. “Harlot! You are clothed with sin. You wear the dressing of a street walker. Why would you adorn yourself to live in Satan’s hovel when you could be preparing for the Father’s mansions? Repent!”
Resisting the urge to hide herself with her hands, she forced her chin high. “I don’t dress like a street walker, Mack, and you know it. I dress like a woman who works in a bookstore. The bookstore where you spend much of your time playing chess. Where I serve you coffee. And sometimes we talk. Don’t you remember?”
Miriam gasped aloud, then whispered, “No, dooon’t.”
Agitated, he paced in front of her, his hands folded. “Because of woman, sin came into the world. Sin that blackens the soul and is the highway to hell’s fire. ‘Broad is the path and easy the way that leads to destruction.’ ”
Goosebumps prickled across her body as the low temperature of the room finally registered. “But I’m not sinful, Mack. I didn’t bring sin into the world. That was Eve.”
He snarled as he dropped his gaze to the apex of her legs, then dragged it to stare pointedly at her nipples, standing erect with the cold. “Daughter of Eve, you bear your mother’s sin and degradation.”
“No, it’s the—”
Again he slammed his left hand across her face, but this time, his knuckles connected with her mouth.
Her back was sticky wet, throbbing as if she had taken several lashes across the shoulders. Spare the rod, spoil the child!
No, Mama. Don’t whip me anymore. I’ll be good. I promise, I’ll be good.
You lie! You have not the ability to be good. Satan is the father of all lies. Thou son of Satan! You must be whipped. You must!
Terrified, she fell against the wall, her teeth and jaw aching as the pain in her back faded. Lip swelling and bleeding, she shoved into the corner where she raised her arms to ward off more blows.
“Think on your sins, whore. Come to the Lord for forgiveness. For the Anointed of God will return to inflict punishment for your transgressions.” Snatching her clothes from the floor, he stormed from the room.
Relieved that, for the moment, she wouldn’t have to face him, she slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
“Tell him, Cassie.” Miriam took a painful breath. “It’s coming, no matter what you do, so just get it over with.”
Cassie blinked, trying to focus on her friend. “What’s coming? What are you talking about?”
“The cleansing, he calls it.” Miriam’s voice faded a bit, as if she barely had the energy to continue. “Twice he cut off my air until I passed out. I knew he’d do it again and again, so I confessed. Then the cleansing began.”
Damn Mack. “Cut off your air? He choked you?”
“A cord...around my neck. I thought I was going to die.” She inhaled thickly, then whispered. “I wish I had.”
Teeth chattering with the cold, Cassie moved toward her friend. Maybe together they could generate some body heat. “Miriam, can you move this way? I’m freezing.”
Miriam moaned softly. “No. I can’t.”
Dread sank through Cassie as Miriam’s words registered. “Stop him from what? What is the cleansing?”
She heard Miriam swallow from across the room. “Broken stained glass that he calls God’s tears.”
“What does he do with it?” Cassie demanded.
“Life is in the blood, and mine is full of sin.” Clearly exhausted, her voice dropped to a rough whisper. “He’s ridding me of my sinful life.”
Alarm caused Cassie’s throat to tighten until she could barely speak. “Mack is cutting you? Bleeding you? How bad is it?”
“Not too bad yet, but it’s only a matter of time before...” She took a long, slow breath, her energy almost at an end. “I hope it’s soon.”
“No, Miriam! Don’t say that. You can’t give up. Steve and Keegan need you. And, oh, Miriam, you’re the sister I always wanted. The only person in the world who accepted me for what I am without question. I need you.” Bringing her unbridled terror under control, she tried to focus. “Miriam, we have to call Keegan. Get him here before Mack does more to you. Do whatever it takes—holler out loud, shout in your mind—anything. Just stay awake and keep calling.”
“I’ll try.” Miriam’s response was pitiful, but Cassie knew it was all she had left. No wonder she was so weak after only a day and a half. She’d lost blood, and it was possible that she was still losing it.
Keegan had to get there soon.
Miriam could only whimper a word, but those syllables weren’t “Keegan.” Cassie listened closely as her friend took a shaky breath, then spoke to the bond that came from her earliest memories. The only person in the world she’d ever been able to fully trust. Who would never fail or betray her.
“Bubba.”
Cassie’s throat thickened as she realized the effort it took for Miriam to repeat his name over and over. Closing her eyes, Cassie joined her. Keegan...
Deep within herself calling for Keegan from that black hole, she had no notion of time passage when the door opened again. Had it been hours? Minutes? Hope flickered as she imagined he’d found them so quickly, but her optimism died when Mack strode in the door and stood in the middle of the room, focused on her.
“Do you wish to confess, sinner?”
Calling Keegan from the back of her mind, she rose and braced her feet apart. “You are the sinner. You’re getting your rocks off, looking at my naked body while I’m chained to the wall like an actress in a porn movie. You’re the one who should be on his knees repenting for lying and lusting and murdering.”
Enraged, his face blanched, then flooded red as his eye
s narrowed. Good. Maybe if she made him mad enough, he’d have an incapacitating stroke.
“I do not murder or lie or lust.” Spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted. “I am the Anointed of God. I do only His will.”
Searching her mind for a way to further infuriate him, she raised her voice to match his. “God’s will? How would you know His will? You’re nothing short of Satan incarnate! You’re going to burn in hell.”
As the color of his face darkened to purple, he stormed toward her with his hands joined in an attitude of prayer. But instead of asking God for guidance, he swung them like a sledgehammer, slamming them into her chin.
As she plunged into unconsciousness, she held to the word echoing in her mind.
Keegan.
****
McKenzie Loper gazed at the woman lying at his feet. The sinner would be hard to control, hard to convert, but with God’s blessing, he would succeed. And once she had surrendered her will to His, she would go to be with the Savior.
To be away from the body is to be present with the Lord.
Never to be outside the Father’s glory. Never to sin again or use her body to cause others to sin. Never to be in danger of hell’s fire.
But now was the time to get to business. Picking up the blanket he’d brought for her use, he covered her, then set about removing the chains. She could no longer be allowed the gift of movement. It only allowed her to flaunt her transgressions.
Carefully he bolted her manacles to the stakes he’d cemented into the ground so long ago. In obedience. Then he spread her so he could attach each leg to its stake. When she awoke, he could begin her true conversion.
He would remove her sin as far from her as the east from the west. He would teach her of the love of the Father. And of the Son. And of the Holy Ghost.
With God’s tears, given to him by the Father, he would remove the sin from her life. And when she was sinless, he would purify her—make her fit for the heavenly kingdom.
But first, he must complete the work he’d begun with the other.
****
Keegan drove as fast as he could, running red lights and cutting corners short every time possible. He had to go to Mack’s again. Had to find something that would show him the way.
Reaching the apartment house, he threw the car into park while it skidded to a stop. From under the seat, he snagged the flashlight he kept there and sprinted for the shed. Just outside the rear door, he shined the beam on the ground until he spotted the opening to the tunnel. The fit was snug, way too tight to fit his fingers into. How the hell could Mack open it? Did he only use that door when he escaped the passageway?
His heart lifted in triumph when he spotted a rusted piece of metal hanging from the shed—something he never before would have noticed. Snatching it, he once more illuminated the minute crack around the entranceway until he found the almost nonexistent notch.
Fitting the metal handle into it, he lifted the door and peered into the black hole. Nothing. If he stepped inside, would he disappear forever?
What would it matter if he did? Without Cassie, what was the use of existing?
Taking a breath, he followed the light beam down the stairs. As he rounded the corner, the flashlight dimmed measurably.
What the hell? He’d just replaced the batteries before he left Denver and hadn’t used it since. Leave it to him to buy the batteries with the world’s shortest life.
Disgusted, he turned into the hidden underground room. Illuminating the space as much as possible, he saw what he’d missed before—old pictures of a woman along the top of the opposite wall. Obviously bad copies, the pictures repeated several times as they created an oddly shaped arc.
Most were fuzzy with bad photography and being enlarged far more than they should have, and all were of a tall, slender woman with a face that had no trace of humor. Or love. Or tolerance. Hell, she looked like the pious old biddies he’d met when he’d investigated Bosley Poford.
Closing his eyes, he did his best to stop thinking. Simply open his mind. Maybe if he could get out of the way, he could use that little bit of psychic ability Cassie told him everyone possessed.
But it was impossible. He couldn’t concentrate. Cassie and Miriam in the hands of a madman sent fury flashing through him. Feeling like a caged lion, he paced to one side of the small room, then across to the other.
How could he focus his mind on them while keeping his emotions from getting in the way?
Stop thinking and just do it.
Dragging in a deep breath, he held it until his lungs pounded. When the pulsing need to breathe began in earnest, he slowly released it and focused on Cassie. Beautiful inside and out. Cassie. Self-isolating, but with a heart so large, it received the emotions others transmitted.
Cassie...
Slowly he opened his eyes, then trained the light on the picture montage. Moving closer, he tried to lift the edge of one small photo—obviously an original. After some work with his thumbnail, he was able to pry it loose.
Hiding the image inside his shirt, he knew what he had to do. With only one goal in mind, he sprinted from the room to Mack’s apartment. There he stopped for a moment. Where would Mack have kept them? They had to be there. Somewhere.
He glided his fingers inside his shirt and touched the face of the snapshot. Something tugged at him. As if caught in a current, he moved to the second bedroom. Opening the closet door, he saw nothing. Where could they be? They had to be there. He must have them.
Then as clearly as if his name had been called, he knew. Kneeling next to the bed, he reached underneath and pulled out a suitcase. Discolored and old, it looked as if it hadn’t seen the light of day in several decades. The brass latches were black with disuse, and when he tried to open them, nothing happened.
Ready to tear off the hinges, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Fitting one under the first fastener, he pried it loose. The second opened as easily.
As he lifted the lid, the odor of mold and moth balls filled the room. Reaching inside his shirt, he pulled out the picture, placed it on the bed, then started yanking out the old clothing. Be here. Be here. Be here.
He threw aside several dresses, most of which were made of dark, rough wool. Finally, at the very bottom, he found what he was looking for. He wanted to shout with triumph, hug the dress, dance a jig. Instead he carefully laid it on the bed to compare to the picture.
Black with short sleeves and a neck shaped in a U, it had a wide satin belt that looped three times in front, and had two tails hanging down. And while it was still wool and dark and plain, compared to the other clothing he’d seen, this one was practically seductive.
Snatching the dress and picture from the bed, he rushed to the main part of the apartment building. Once inside, he slammed up the stairs and banged impatiently on the door.
As he started to knock again, Miss Marcie swung the door wide. Before she could speak, he shoved into the room. “I need your help.”
****
Keegan. His name thrummed in her mind as she rose through the layers of unconsciousness. Keegan...
Wishing she could remain unaware, she knew better. She was going to have to wake up to save her life...and Miriam’s. The memory of her friend acted like an ammonia capsule, immediately bringing her to full awareness.
She tried to move, but heavy metal bit into her wrists and ankles. Thinking he’d changed to heavier chains, she tugged harder. Still nothing. Horrified, she realized she’d been staked to the ground to make her torture easy for him. So she couldn’t move. Or fight. As she fought tears of frustration, she took a rough breath.
Was Miriam still alive, or had the monster killed her while Cassie slept? Afraid of the answer, she whispered, “Miriam, are you awake?”
“Oh, Cassie, I was so worried about you. Are you okay?” Miriam’s voice was clearer, as if she’d regained some strength.
Fury roiled in Cassie’s gut. “No, I’m not okay. I’m staked to the ground like a
damned goat ready for slaughter.”
Miriam’s voice was as high and sweet as a child’s. “I know. So am I.”
Cassie couldn’t hide her impatience. “Have you worked on them? Tried to pull the stakes out?”
“Of course, I have,” Miriam answered, forming her words slowly. “But I gave up—”
“Don’t give up.” Cassie couldn’t help interrupting. “We have to keep trying everything we can. If someone doesn’t find us, maybe we can save ourselves.”
“I gave up,” Miriam repeated, “when I found they were cemented into the ground.”
No hope. Cassie relaxed her straining muscles. Why bother trying? Mack had thought of everything. Obviously, they were miles from civilization, where no one could notice strange goings on and come to investigate or call the police. And they were in what looked like a dugout, the walls thick and insulating, so if someone did happen by, they wouldn’t hear any sounds, such as yelling or—she swallowed hard—screaming.
The door burst open, thumping into the mud wall. Mack strode inside, his arms spread. “My children, do you repent?”
“I repent,” Miriam answered immediately.
“Daughter of Eve, do you repent?” Mack asked.
Cassie gritted her teeth, restarting the ache in her jaw that had finally started to fade. She wasn’t going to cooperate. The others had, and it appeared to have done no good. If she was going to die anyway, she might as well go on her own terms. “No. I don’t repent. I have nothing to repent for.”
His eyes flamed with anger, but he answered softly. “All have sinned—”
“Does that include you?” She made her voice rough. “You’re part of that all, aren’t you?”
His voice was calm. Otherworldly. “God knows no sin, and I am the Anointed. Therefore—”
“Bullshit!” Cassie interrupted him again, hoping to keep his mind from Miriam and doing her more damage. “You are such a liar. You probably even killed your own daughter.”
“She was a sinner!” He moved a step closer, the stained glass gleaming in his fingers. “She fornicated with a married man. She lied to her father. She took the Lord’s name in vain. She broke all the commandments, the law handed down by God. She had to die. Had to pay for her sins.”
