Sinful Purity (Sinful Series)

by K. A. Standen

  “I’ll be back in a little while. I want to check out that seminary,” Caleb told me as he left.

  “Please be careful.” The thought of something happening to Caleb also was just too much for me to bear.

  “I will. Just lock the door, okay?” Caleb instructed one last time as he disappeared down the stairwell.

  I locked the door as I was told and went to lie down on my bed. I curled up, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to force the emptiness from my body. I never even bothered to cover up. I just lay there on top of the blankets, cold and hollow. I didn’t really know how many hours passed. I drifted in and out of sleep, waking only long enough to cry myself back into a fitful slumber. It was daylight again when Lucy knocked on my door.

  “Liz, darlin’,” she called. “I’ve brought you breakfast.”

  I stumbled to the door and unlocked it. “Hi, Lucy,” I mumbled as I went to lie back down, exhausted from the stress that I currently called my life.

  “You have to eat something, honey. For the baby,” Lucy reminded sweetly.

  I sat up and took a bagel and a cup of orange juice from the tray. Taking a small bite, I tried to swallow it down with the pain.

  “Liz? Did you ever have the chance to tell him about the baby? Zack, I mean,” Lucy inquired.

  Even though the sound of his name pierced me like a spear through the heart, I know Lucy didn’t mean to hurt me. She was only curious, and who wouldn’t be?

  “Yes, he knew,” I said faintly as I took another bite.

  “I bet he was so happy. I’m sure that he had already fallen in love with the little one.” She smiled kindly, compassion in her eyes.

  “Yeah, he did.” For a moment I remembered Zack’s loving face, happy again, smiling at me. For a moment I was at peace, before the image of his bloodied dead eyes flashed in my brain, ripping apart the serenity. I gasped loudly and shuddered at the malicious memory.

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. Come here, darlin’.” Lucy took me in her arms and held me as I wept for my lost love and future. Her embrace was surprisingly strong and comforting. For such a tiny fairy of a girl, the strength of her love was crushing. I appreciated every painful squeeze more than I would have thought possible.

  After a while Lucy left for class, but she promised she would be back with my lunch. I was sad to see her go. I wished I had allowed her and Caleb to comfort me right after Zack’s accident, the way they had tried to. Instead I’d just pushed them away and sulked back to the desperation and lies of St. Matthew’s. I could have started to heal had I not run from my friends. Instead I was faced with the horror of the true identity of Zack’s murderer. How would I ever be able to forgive myself for putting him in harm’s way? The truth was too much to bear, so I willed myself back to the numbing unconsciousness of sleep.

  Lucy brought me lunch and dinner. It had been almost twenty-four hours since I had seen or heard from Caleb. I feared the worst, sure that his fate was no better than Zack’s had been. How could I live with myself after not trying to stop him, to protect him the way he fought to protect me? The tears began again, so strong and unrelenting that sleep was not possible. I could only curl up on my lonely, sad little bed and let the guilt and grief take me.

  It was a little after midnight when I felt certain that my mind had finally surrendered to the insanity that had been looming for weeks. Then I heard a knock on my door and Caleb’s voice.

  “Liz—Liz. I’m here, Liz.”

  Yep, let the men with the straitjackets come take me away.

  Crazy or not, I still had to see, so I made my way to the door to peek at my own personal specter.

  “Liz, come on. Let me in. I need to talk to you,” the voice ordered.

  My imaginary tormenter is demanding and impatient, I thought with a giggle. At least my insane figments had some personality. Peering through the peephole, I saw a figure who even looked like Caleb. But why wouldn’t it? My imagination would surely be able to create a lifelike duplicate. Wasn’t that why people went crazy, because their hallucinations were so real?

  “Liz, this is ridiculous. I can see your eyeball. Open the door!”

  “All right!” I snapped. Why not embrace the madness?

  “Jeez, what’s wrong with you?” Caleb protested as he pushed past me.

  “Can hallucinations touch you?” I asked out loud in my psychosis.

  “What? Are you crazy?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

  “Liz, I think you’ve been alone too long. Come and sit down.”

  “You’re a very polite apparition.”

  “Okay, Liz. I don’t know what to do here. You’re acting a little loopy. Can you try to focus, please? I found the hooded guys. They’re sneaky but they’re real.”

  “You found them and you’re still alive?” I dared to hope.

  “Yes, Liz. For Christ’s sake, I’m sitting right in front of you.”

  “Then you understand my bewilderment. I can’t be sure that you’re, well, you,” I remarked, baffled by my first very real nutty sojourn.

  “All right, Liz. Stay with me here. You were right. They are from the seminary. They come and go at all hours. But they just kind of appear here and there. That’s what took me so long. I couldn’t figure it out.”

  “Zack,” I interrupted.

  “What?”

  “Zack was right,” I replied calmly, almost completely detached.

  “Okay, whatever. Zack was right. Anyway, what I’m trying to tell you is there are tunnels.”

  “Tunnels?”

  “Yes, tunnels. They run under the entire campus. I’m not sure where they lead yet. But I went to the engineering department to pull a copy of the school’s original plans and schematics. St. Paul’s is really old, right? Well, a few years ago the board of directors hired an outside contractor to run fiber-optic cable underground to all the buildings on campus to upgrade the technology and communications systems. Someone at the school told the contractor about these tunnels that were hundreds of years old. Instead of digging up the campus, they used the tunnels to run all the cable. Liz, I think that these goons are using those same tunnels to travel undetected.”

  “What?” I asked, completely lost.

  “They’re not hiding in the shadows, they’re escaping into them.”

  “Oh my God!”

  “I know, right? Tonight I’m going to follow one of those fools down into the tunnels and see what they’re hiding.” His determination was blinding.

  “I’m going with you.” I felt my energy surge with my anger and need for justice.

  “No, you’re not. The whole idea is to keep you safe.”

  “I’m not letting someone else risk their life for me. I need to take control of my own life for once,” I said with the strength and will that accompany clarity of mind. “My whole life I have been moved around like a pawn in someone’s game. I need to do this, Caleb. This is my chance to take back my life. I know it’s a little late, but it’s not over yet. I have to do this.”

  “Okay, Liz,” he relented. “I’ll come get you tonight. But you should get some rest first, okay?”

  Caleb left and I sat there with my mind racing a mile a minute while my body remained motionless. I couldn’t sleep. I was too wound up. My entire body vibrated with nervous energy. As I watched the sun come up over the bright turquoise dome of St. Paul’s, I sensed that this might be my last time to view such a miracle. I knew what I had to do. Caleb would not be happy. But if I went now, I could be back long before anyone noticed I was gone. I had to go. I had to at least try to even the odds, or possibly, just possibly, give us an edge. I went to my closet to grab some clothes, forgetting that I hadn’t done any laundry since Zack’s accident. Scavenging in the leaning pile of dirty clothes in the corner, I pulled out a pair of jeans and a crumpled red blouse. I pulled on my shoes and grabbed my jacket as I flew out the door.

  I didn’t know exactly how long it took me to reach Mary Immacul
ate Queen. I did know I was out of breath and the sun had yet to fully rise by the time I arrived. I threw open the gates and beat on the antique wooden double doors, waiting for entry. The door creaked open, revealing Sister Christine, who was scanning cautiously.

  “Mother. I need to speak with you,” I said firmly.

  “Mary Elizabeth, I am sure this can wait. Your behavior is very unorthodox,” she scolded.

  “Not today, Mother. I am not waiting today. You are going to let me in and we are going to talk. Because we both know that I know.” My voice and demeanor was fierce. Sister knew that I was not bluffing. She opened the door and permitted me to enter.

  “Follow me to my office. We will talk there, child.”

  I followed Mother up the familiar stairs up to her office, never once wavering in my intentions. I was resolute and in control for the first time in my life.

  Sister Christine closed the door behind us. “Begin,” she said.

  She didn’t order me to sit like she had always done in the past, nor did she sit herself. There we stood, face to face, adult to adult, equal to equal. I no longer feared her. I had nothing left to fear losing.

  “I know the truth. I know what you and Monsignor have concealed. I know your sins, Sister,” I hissed with all the venom of my pain and grief.

  “What is it that you think you know, child?” she said condescendingly.

  “I know that you are nothing more than Monsignor Brennigan’s lackey. You’re only here to cover up his improprieties, to bury his sins.”

  “Is that so? That is a serious accusation, Mary Elizabeth.” Her voice was threatening.

  “It is not an accusation. It is the truth. He murdered Zack and you helped him cover it up. Then you poisoned me, like you did the rest of the sick kids. How many, Sister? How many had to lose their life and freedom in your quest?” I snarled.

  “It is not like that, Mary Elizabeth,” Sister said calmly.

  “It’s Liz! I am no longer one of your precious Marys!”

  “Very well. Liz. You need to understand his reasons, child.”

  “Reasons? How dare you talk about reasons? My boyfriend—my fiancé—is dead. I just got out of the hospital after being in a coma. All thanks to his ‘reasons.’”

  “Mary Elizabeth—Elizabeth. What is done is done. I’m sorry for your loss, I truly am. But my hands are tied. There is still time for you, child. Keep silent and we will never look for you. You must leave. Leave school, leave here, leave Chicago. Go far away and never return. Live your life the way you should have years ago.” It sounded less like a command and more like an offer.

  “If I leave and keep my mouth shut, I’ll be free? Be safe? No one will hunt or stalk me anymore?” I wasn’t sure if I should believe her.

  “Keep your promise, child, and I will make certain you remain unharmed. Don’t think too badly of Monsignor Brennigan. He only wanted to bring out the best in people. His intentions were good, but his methods were flawed. Don’t let his reputation be soiled unjustly. He is only human and capable of sin too.”

  I was disgusted by her justification. She still revered him after all his sins, after all his crimes. It was no secret that I had never liked Sister Christine. I had always seen her as evil and vile, the very worst of humanity cloaked in shepherd’s clothes. But I had never known she was so weak, nothing more than a follower.

  I left Mother Superior’s office stronger, more confident, and with more conviction than when I arrived. I slammed the door behind me, never to look back at my childhood prison again. That chapter of my life was closed. Now I needed to get back to the dorm before Caleb and Lucy discovered I was gone. If Caleb knew I had broken his rules, he would never take me with him tonight. And I had to go. I still had unfinished business. One final captor, one remaining demon still waited to be slain. I could not flee to safety until my quest was complete. My fight was not over.

  In my room, I waited. I waited all day and into the evening for Caleb to come and get me. Lucy brought me my meals like always. I struggled with the small talk, not wanting to lose my resolve or break down emotionally again. I knew I only had so much strength, so my intent needed to remain at the forefront of my thoughts to keep me from wavering. I was not a strong person by nature. I had never been taught to be brave or courageous. Instead I was taught to conform, to blend in. Sister Christine taught us to “complement your surroundings; do not overpower them.” That was my life lesson, to be agreeable and bland. But tonight that was going to change. Tonight I would be downright overbearing and offensive. Tonight I would demand retribution.

  Right after dark Caleb knocked on my door. I ran and opened it in one leap.

  “You’re ready, I see,” he noted with a smirk.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “All right. We have to be stealthy first. We still need to find one of those cloaked thugs so they can lead us to a tunnel entrance.”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath to calm myself.

  Caleb and I walked casually through the campus like we were just out for a stroll, without any hidden agenda. We sat down at a small table in the south quad situated between the administration offices and the seminary. It was there that I noticed the small drops of chocolate shake that had stained the leg of my jeans.

  “Oh God,” I muttered.

  “Liz, you okay?” Caleb asked.

  “I’m wearing the same jeans I wore when Zack was killed. I didn’t know. I just grabbed them.” I could feel the sobs building up pressure, demanding to escape.

  “Oh, Liz. Remember, we’re doing this for him.” Caleb put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.

  A hush fell over us again. There we waited, until the hour became so late that we appeared conspicuous. Then we tucked ourselves into a small hedge of bushes. Secluded and hidden from sight, we sat together in silence and anticipation, with only each other and our growing nervousness for company. Hours later, right after the last toll of the clock tower marked midnight, our purpose was realized. From the side door of the seminary emerged two of my once-dreaded and feared shadow stalkers, stepping into the moonlight only to vanish six feet later into nothingness. A moment after we were certain they had gone, Caleb and I rushed to the site of the disappearance. There, buried in the lush green lawn I adored, lay a trap door. Covered with grass and completely inconspicuous to the naked eye, the tunnel entrance waited.

  My heart was overwhelmed with that all-too-familiar sinking feeling, the one I always experienced when I realized yet another thing in my life was a lie. Now I couldn’t even believe the grass. What kind of world did I live in?

  The kind where even the shrubberies are deviant and deceptive, I thought with a wicked, self-defeating giggle.

  Caleb lifted the secret door, revealing the well-concealed entrance to my tormentors’ unholy lair. Caleb lowered me down first, carefully. Then he leaped down the tight, damp stone portal, landing almost silently on the moisture-stained and moss-covered cobblestone floor. The air was heavy and humid. A musty smell seized the back of my throat with its burning fist, choking me. Caleb pulled the hatch door shut, concealing our intrusion. Looking around my new dark and ominous surroundings, I gasped.

  “It goes on forever,” I noticed as I examined the ancient tunnel.

  “Let’s hope not,” Caleb said with his usual nonchalance and good humor. I knew he was trying to put me at ease, but my frayed nerves could not appreciate his efforts. I ignored his remark, concentrating only on the vastness of the passageway. The tunnel was in actuality a well-constructed corridor encased in stone on all sides. The floor, the walls, even the arched ceilings were all fastidiously laid rock, perfectly stacked and mortared in place. Small, dim utility lights shone in the distance every fifty feet or so. I figured they must have been installed at the same time as the fiber optics a few years back. Except for those rare well-spaced modern touches, the tunnel appeared to be original, dating back a couple hundred years. Caleb and I trudged onward in our silent pursuit, with only t
he muffled sound of our footsteps to accompany us. After we traveled several minutes down our straight, uninterrupted course, the tunnel opened a little, revealing a side chamber.

  “Look.” Caleb pointed, pleased by our discovery. He cautiously shoved the brittle old wooden door aside, exposing more of the cavern’s secrets with each creak of the rusty iron hinges. Well hidden within its stone grotto appeared to be a laboratory—a chemistry lab, to be precise. Caleb and I ventured inside, studying each new clue. The strategically arranged assortment of beakers, graduated cylinders, and filtration tubes all bore witness to the malevolent happenings. This lab was new and recently used. All of its contents were well stocked and state of the art. This was not an abandoned remnant, long forgotten by time. This was a main fixture, an integral part of our foes’ sinister plot. We had discovered the stereotypical secret lab, and I was confident the mad scientist was not far behind.

  “What is all this junk?” Caleb asked, disgusted by the makeshift lab and cluttered glassware.

  “It’s his lab,” I said authoritatively as the pieces fell perfectly into place.

  “Whose lab, Liz?”

  “Brennigan’s lab.”

  “Brennigan? Why would a priest have a laboratory?”

  “Haven’t you realized? He is no ordinary priest.”

  “Yeah, okay, then. But I think we’re under the science building. Wouldn’t it be more likely for one of the professors to be a part of all this? I can’t really see Friar Tuck mixing up elixirs of holiness down here.” He chuckled. “He’s not exactly Albert Einstein.”

  “You’re wrong, Caleb. That is exactly what he is. When I was in Maine, I did a little investigating of my own. Brennigan graduated from St. Joseph’s College up there.”