by Koethi Zan
‘What is it?’ She was usually impatient to get out of there, apparently not eager to linger in this room which must smell horrible to anyone not perpetually inhabiting it.
‘Would you … I was wondering if you would consider staying. For a minute or two.’
The woman stared at her, obviously perplexed by her audacity. She may as well have been one of the farm animals who’d suddenly acquired the gift of speech.
The woman turned to go, but Julie thought she saw her hesitate. Could she be considering it?
‘I’m begging you. Please.’ Julie could hear the whine in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. ‘I’m going crazy in here. Please. I’ve been alone for weeks And I can tell he’s gone. Can’t you spare a few minutes? Just to talk to me.’
The woman’s heavy-lidded eyes met Julie’s. For a second Julie wondered if she was dense, a mental defective he kept around to handle the drudgery. Did she even understand what Julie was saying? Should she repeat herself, louder this time and more slowly?
The woman took a step back and wiped her hands on her dirty apron. She opened her eyes wider and for a split second Julie thought she detected a spark of intelligence in there. Now if it could only be conjured up to the surface.
‘I guess you are desperate, if you’re looking to talk to me,’ the woman finally replied. She laughed a hard little laugh that Julie counted as progress.
Julie wiped her face with the front collar of her sweatshirt in an attempt to show some dignity before she propelled herself forward.
‘So then, what is it? Are you trying out a little game on me? Some trick you have in mind? Give up. I’ve seen them all.’
Julie shivered. What did she mean by that?
‘No games. No, no. I’m … I’m just lonely. Really, really lonely. I swear. I won’t do anything. Won’t try anything. I’ll sit here, like this. In position.’ Julie got back on the bed, held up her hands, and crossed her ankles. ‘I won’t even move.’
The woman stood studying her a minute longer, narrowing her eyes as she edged toward the door. Then she shrugged her shoulders.
‘Fine, fine. One minute.’ She walked backwards slowly over to the corner, her eyes still fixed on Julie, and dragged a lawn chair over, letting its legs screech across the floor.
She took no chances even then. As soon as she sat down, she reached into the front pocket of her apron and brought out a switchblade. She clicked it open and balanced it on the narrow plastic arm of the chair.
‘Don’t try anything. I mean it,’ she said, glancing down at the knife to emphasize her point.
Julie was determined to ignore it. The threat of violence seemed a small price to pay at that moment.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, elated by this victory. Having been without human companionship for so long, she didn’t know where to begin. It occurred to her that the two of them were in the same boat on that front. Maybe she’d help her, even if only in little ways.
‘What are you smiling at?’ the woman said, mistaking Julie’s hope for slyness.
‘I’m just … glad to have this chance to talk to you. I appreciate it,’ she replied tentatively.
The woman took out a shiny miniature object from her other pocket, turning it over between her fingers like a Chinese medicine ball.
Julie took a deep breath, or tried to.
‘Do you find it kind of hard to breathe in here?’
The woman only stared at her.
‘I guess not. Okay, then.’ More silence. ‘I wonder if you’d consider taking me downstairs – not outside or anything. I don’t mean that. Just somewhere I could sit next to an open window for a few minutes? I swear I won’t try to run away. It’s just I feel like I can’t breathe in here sometimes.’
The woman sniffed.
‘James would never allow that.’
‘Oh, right. Well, I mean, like now, while he’s away. I wouldn’t tell.’
She jerked back her head, clearly appalled.
‘Oh, no. I would never go against his wishes. Never.’
‘So are you saying I’ll never leave this room?’
The woman blinked once. Twice.
‘What’s going to happen to me?’ She hadn’t meant to ask so bluntly and wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know.
The woman turned away. Was she ashamed? Did she even know?
‘I shouldn’t be talking to you,’ she finally answered, looking back at Julie. ‘But you want my advice?’
Julie nodded. She was almost sure she didn’t, but at least it would keep the woman there a few minutes more.
‘You’re focusing on your pain and suffering. That’s not going to get you anywhere. Accept the Word and follow the Path of Righteousness. Your past self is dead and you have been resurrected. The sooner you give yourself over fully to the Path, the easier it will be.’
Julie stiffened. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
‘I understand what you’re used to. A girl like you with such a sweet face and pretty little figure, provoking lust and sin. You must have enjoyed your role as temptress.’ She shook her head wearily. ‘Now you will be redeemed here with us.’
Julie could feel the color draining from her face. Then she felt her heart harden a little bit.
‘Can I ask you a personal question?’
The woman shrugged, put the trinket she was holding back in her pocket.
‘You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.’
‘Why do you stay with him? I mean, I don’t understand –’
The woman’s face froze, but Julie couldn’t stop herself.
‘How did you end up here? Is it because you really believe all that crazy religious stuff?’ That didn’t come out quite right, she knew.
The woman rose slowly from her chair.
‘What did you say?’ Her face went red.
Bad idea, Julie.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It’s really – it’s none of my business. I’m sorry.’
When Julie saw the knife in the woman’s hand, she realized what a mistake she’d made and a wave of nausea passed through her.
‘I swear I didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant that, you know, I just wanted to get to know you—’
‘Stop talking your blasphemy,’ the woman interrupted. Julie stopped talking.
But it was too late.
The woman came closer until Julie could feel her hot breath on her face and smell her strange mix of earth and sweat and soap.
What had she done?
‘Look at you with those long lashes, the tears always delicately balanced on the edges. Oh, so pretty,’ she said, squinting at her. ‘You think that gives you the right to say something like that?’
Julie felt the tears spring into her eyes, as if on command.
‘Everyone’s always done whatever you wanted, haven’t they? You’ve never had to show anyone else any respect.’
Julie tried not to react, but inside she quaked. She swallowed. Her arms were aching from being held up so long. A drip of sweat slid slowly down her back. Terrified, she stayed still though, would stay like this as long as she was told.
‘You must have been given so much to achieve what you have. A life of free time, healthy food, and paid lessons.’ She paused, like a storm gathering. ‘And now you think you have the right to criticize things you know nothing about?’
Julie regretted asking her to stay more than anything in the world. She’d thought the woman couldn’t be as evil as him, had to have a heart. She’d been horribly wrong.
‘You don’t get it, do you?’ The woman’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘You think you have something over on me, don’t you?’
Julie hardly dared to look up. She held her breath, afraid to speak, not wanting to say something to tip the balance.
‘You think you have a right to judge me? If so, then you need to learn your place.’
At this she grabbed Julie’s hair with her free hand and pulled as hard as she could, forcing Juli
e’s face upward, where she had no choice but to meet the woman’s dark, empty eyes.
She leaned in, enunciating the words carefully: ‘You have to understand, girl, some people are just pawns in the universe’s overarching plans. It looks like you’re one of them.’
She released Julie’s hair with a final jerk.
Julie couldn’t hold back the tears at that point, but knew better than to break the rules by putting her hands down. No matter how much her arms hurt, she held them in place. No matter how wet her face, she didn’t dare wipe it. All she could do was sit still and watch the woman angrily gather up the tray to leave, her only consolation the way that miserable loser fumbled with everything she touched, dropping the spoon, tripping over nothing on her way out.
Idiot woman. Cruel witch.
When the door finally slammed behind her, Julie let the sobs explode so that it felt as if her chest might heave open from them. How had she ever thought that woman was anything but a monster? She hadn’t wanted to accept it. In her state of denial, she had tried to bear her circumstances day to day, hoping her parents would find her or her abductors would come to their senses and let her go.
Now she knew for certain there was no time to wait for help. If she didn’t figure out something fast on her own, she’d never make it out alive.
CHAPTER 5
James had been away for nearly a month and Cora was beginning to worry. The last time he’d been gone this long it turned out they’d arrested him in Arizona and he’d spent ninety days in jail for some stupid thing. They’d gotten the indictment but the prosecutor let him take a plea. No evidence, James said. They were playing cat and mouse with him and he’d won with such a short sentence on what would have been a felony conviction. He knew how to play the system, for sure.
But she knew he’d be back as soon as he could get here. The girl guaranteed that. That awful girl.
Cora should never have talked to her. So what if she was lonely? Cora was lonely too. What had she been thinking? She’d been immune to the other one – that one had been docile at first and even in the last days she’d been quiet except for the crying. But this time Cora had been lured in.
Things were different with this girl. The other one had come to them willingly, a Follower who was undergoing the preparations to join the Divine Family. But then the plan had gone wrong. It wasn’t James’s fault. The Dark Spirits had taken over by then, and he wasn’t himself.
They’d been forced to build the cell after that first incident. It had been for her own good, to keep her safe. It wasn’t their fault she died before she accepted her destiny. She shouldn’t have pushed James like that.
This new girl worried her, though. Could she truly be the one sent to fulfill the Revelation? Was this as the prophecy had declared? A Servant at Hand, one who arrives in Darkness, to bring the Light.
Even if she was the Servant at Hand, Cora was meant to keep her place – that much was clear. It was also written: The Wife shall suffer, but in suffering shall find her Great Reward.
After all, Cora had found them the farm in the first place. They’d done what they’d had to do to get it, and after years of waiting it out and dreaming of it, it was theirs. Seventy-five acres of prime soil in upstate New York, rolling hills, deep green fields of rye, a fine garden, three outbuildings, twenty head of cattle, and seventeen chickens. She had a view of the Catskills from the backyard, a formal dining room, and a six-burner stove. It was all she’d ever wanted. A home.
She would take long solitary walks over the fields regardless of the weather. The wind would whip up her hair and she would laugh the way she should have done as a child. She would run through the pastures and throw herself down into the grass, feeling its softness tickling her face and neck. In those moments, she could make herself believe that everything had happened for a reason.
Sometimes when she was lying out there in those fields, looking up at the clouds drifting by in a pure cerulean sky, she’d indulge in her other world. If she squeezed her eyes shut tight enough, she could block out so many things and pretend she had the child after all. A little golden-haired daughter with a pixie face and his eyes, who would have loved her mother more than anything in the world. Everything would have been different.
Now she just wanted to hold onto what she had. Her mind was ticking all right. Strange things were brewing in her head. She felt uneasy, unsettled. It wasn’t her place to question, but still.
She knew what was the matter: she hated this girl.
James had made a mistake. This girl was not the Servant at Hand. She knew it deep down in her bones. Cora would have to be the one to reveal this disappointing truth to him, but she wasn’t sure how. She must be clever about it, lest he think it was merely jealousy. It wasn’t that at all.
She stood up, her course of action decided. She would be doing it for him, not herself. One day he would understand the sacrifices she’d made and risks she’d taken for his sake.
She went to her closet and reached far in the back until her hands met the crumpled plastic. After hauling the sack out into the middle of the room, she turned it upside down and dumped the contents onto the floor.
First rule of thumb: know thine enemy.
She started with the computer case, sliding her hand in the front pocket and along the bottom of the inner compartment. She brought out handfuls of yellowed receipts, rainbow-colored Post-it notes stuck to one another, a couple of parking tickets. A box of Altoids that proved to be empty.
Well, there was one thing she knew: this girl was a disgusting slob.
Then there was the wallet. Cora unsnapped the small tab that struggled to contain everything and dumped all the dirty slips of paper onto the floor. She sifted through them, a scowl on her face. She took out the credit cards one by one and tossed them aside.
Platinum Visa, Gold Mastercard, American Express.
Rich girl. That made her nervous. The other one had been a straggler. She’d been a runaway and a prostitute who was looking for shelter, and she’d found it. That girl would have slipped through the cracks one way or another.
But they’d be searching for this one.
Next was her driver’s license and behind it a student ID, bright purple, from NYU. She lifted them to the light. Julie Brookman. So the thing had a name. It made her feel queasy to see it. She dug her fingers deep into the remaining pockets, pulling out several more cards: health insurance, Staples Rewards, the Mamaroneck public library.
And then, wedged far back into a slit someone had specially made for it was a small square of cut-out cardboard. She grabbed it with the tips of her fingers and slid it toward her. Written on one side was a series of letters and numbers jammed tightly together in nearly microscopic script.
Passwords. Six of them in all, unlabeled. They were the formulations of a child: Bumbl3b3321, MissFancy911, Bab33doll. And yet in truth these were the keys to a kingdom, Cora would bet, including the girl’s bank account.
It was awfully tempting – she could only imagine the luxuries she could afford with this kind of financial access – but she knew better. The cops would be on her in a second. There’d be alarms set on the account and video footage to convict her. It was all so inviting, but she’d better forget it.
Then it dawned on her: the computer. Of course.
Her heart beat faster as she carried it over to the bed, plugged in the cord, and flipped it open. The screen flashed up with a small box for a password.
One of these had to be right but she knew if she tried and failed too many times, she’d be locked out for good. She ran her finger down the list and first typed in JulieB999.
Not it.
Cora started to sweat. She didn’t know how many chances she’d get before the device would freeze up. She studied each combination on the list. There had to be some rhyme or reason to it.
How would this ridiculous girl think? Perhaps she’d gotten this as a gift for high-school graduation. Yes, her college computer. If so, then there
was one obvious choice, something she’d tossed off in the haste of her excitement about school: NYUNYU111. Just the sort of thing she’d do.
She typed it in, her hands trembling, pausing before finally taking a deep breath and hitting the last digit.
The screen blinked.
She was in. Stupid girl.
Seven tabs were open across the top, and below them an inbox of 3,329 undeleted emails, 251 of them unread. It was all there for Cora to peruse at her leisure.
She eagerly clicked on the top one from someone named Mark Battersby. Instead of his note, however, a new box appeared with the message ‘Unable to Connect to the Internet’.
Of course, what was she thinking? This machine was useless here in their remote, disconnected world. Her only option was to take it to the library in town and sign onto their Wi-Fi. A place where anyone could look over her shoulder, could wonder what she, of all people, was doing with a gleaming thousand-dollar laptop.
It would be dangerous. It would be foolish. But she couldn’t help herself. She’d already broken James’s trust. What difference would it make to take one more small step?
CHAPTER 6
Three years ago, Adam had made his first major career mistake: he’d spoken to the staff psychologist. To be honest, he hadn’t had much of a choice. He’d been drinking on the job and had gotten caught. It was so unfair though. The situation had been completely under control. No one need ever have known except that his partner wasn’t a detective for nothing. He’d found the empties and thought Adam needed help.
That first visit to the shrink had ruined everything. She sat there – so sure of herself – with her professional hairdo and a cloud of sweet scent filling the air around her. Her office oozed calculated warmth with its sophisticated dark gray walls, a leather couch as soft as butter, and a framed diploma on the wall covered in swirls of illegible calligraphy. Everything seemed specially designed to disempower the patient.
They sat in silence just looking at each other as Adam nervously tapped his fingers on the armrest. He was determined not to go first.
‘What brings you here today, Adam?’ she finally asked.
