Away From the Dark

by Aleatha Romig

  “No, Father,” Jacob replied.

  “Sister?”

  My breaths became shallow, and the room spun. “No, Father.”

  Dylan stood and stepped toward us. Just as quickly Jacob pulled my hand, moving me behind him as he stepped in front of me, blocking Dylan’s path. Though Jacob didn’t speak, from the way his body tensed and the closeness of their shoes, I envisioned the two men standing chest to chest. I was sure Jacob was taller than Dylan, but after what had happened yesterday, I feared that wouldn’t stop Dylan from being the aggressor. As the silence grew, I closed my eyes and bit my lip.

  “Gentlemen,” Father Gabriel said, breaking the quiet. “That is not why I asked Brother Jacob and his wife here this morning.”

  At the phrase his wife, Jacob’s grip loosened.

  “Dylan, you’ll have plenty of time to speak with Sister Sara. First we have business.”

  “Father, I’d prefer for Sara—”

  “Brother Jacob,” Father Gabriel interrupted, “I told you yesterday that I had questions. Dylan”—his tone became impatient—“sit down or leave.”

  I swallowed.

  Why am I here? Why am I involved in this?

  When Dylan sat, Jacob stepped to the side and pulled me forward. Once again we were standing side by side. Raising my eyes, I kept them locked on Father Gabriel.

  “Brother Jacob,” Father Gabriel continued, “since your entry into The Light, I’ve been impressed with you and your ability to learn quickly. You’ve known that, though, haven’t you?”

  “I’ve done my best to please you, Father.”

  “I spoke to Brother Michael.”

  Who is Brother Michael?

  “He said he was pleased with the delivery,” Jacob replied.

  “Yes, he did. He told me the same. He also said that you refused the offer to stay the night at the Western Light.”

  “Yes, I had flight plans to fly into Lone Hawk.”

  “Did you fly into Lone Hawk?”

  “Yes, I did. I borrowed the airport manager’s truck and drove to Whitefish, and although I’d alerted them that I was coming, their inventory of supplies was shamefully low.”

  “Therefore, after completing one of the biggest shipments you’ve ever been entrusted with delivering, you took it upon yourself to change your prescribed flight plans, the same flight plans you weren’t willing to alter for a Commissioner to stay at the Western Light.”

  I didn’t understand what was happening or what they were saying. Maybe I should’ve asked more about his delivery and the envelope. Then again, my not knowing was the way it should be.

  Jacob shifted, standing taller. “Yes, as an Assemblyman, I took it upon myself to decide that securing supplies for the nearly five hundred people at the Northern Light was most vital.”

  “And yet you called Brother Daniel.”

  “Yes, he’s my overseer. I call him often.”

  “And Brother Benjamin?”

  Shit!

  “Father, if you’re asking if I spoke with Brother Benjamin, I did, and Brother Luke, and Brother Abraham, and others on the Assembly. I wasn’t aware that was a problem. If it is, I can certainly discontinue.”

  “It’s no longer an issue.”

  What the hell does that mean?

  My hand flinched, but Jacob secured his grip.

  “Brother,” Father Gabriel continued, “tell me where the envelope is that Brother Reuben gave to you.”

  “I’m most certain it’s at the Northern Light. I apologize. I was distracted once I returned to the Northern Light.”

  “Distracted?” Dylan asked.

  When Jacob didn’t respond to Dylan, Father Gabriel told him to explain. Now Jacob was going to have to relay our cover story, in front of Dylan.

  Jacob turned to me and let out a deep breath. “As you can see, Sara’s been corrected.”

  “Yes,” Father Gabriel replied.

  “It happened Thursday night. Brother Benjamin called me on Friday after I’d left the Western Light to inform me that Sara had not been to work. When I arrived back to the Northern Light, as a husband, I needed to concentrate on my wife and why she’d missed work.”

  “Sister . . .”

  My heartbeat raced. It wasn’t Father Gabriel speaking to me. It was Dylan. When I didn’t respond, he repeated himself.

  Finally Father Gabriel said, “Since your husband obviously isn’t going to give you permission to reply, I do. Answer my nephew.”

  Nephew, there it was.

  I lifted my gaze to Dylan. “Yes, Brother.”

  “No . . . I’m not . . . never mind. Why didn’t you go to work on Friday?”

  “I was embarrassed that I had a visible reminder. I didn’t want people to think poorly of my husband.” I looked up at Jacob. “He’s a good man.”

  “This is bullshit,” Dylan mumbled under his breath. Louder he said, “So what happened once he came back?” His jaw clenched. “Did he correct you again?”

  “Yes.”

  Dylan’s hand slapped Father Gabriel’s desk.

  “Dylan, it’s the way of The Light. You knew that,” Father Gabriel replied. Then he asked me, “What did Brother Jacob do?”

  “Because I was ashamed and didn’t want to face people, my husband took me to the coffee shop, and later, after the Commission meeting, he took me to Brother Raphael’s. I apologized to him for being selfish. I should’ve gone to work; instead I ran in the north acres and stayed there.”

  Father Gabriel stood. “I’ve heard enough. Brother Jacob, the envelope you received was not meant for you. I need it, and I need it now. I believe you need fewer distractions. Obviously you’ve been privy to an extraordinary amount of private information, even being here, in this house. I’ve been content, even pleased with your confidentiality in the past. The change of plans to Fairbanks bothers me. I assure you, if I had evidence of wrongdoing, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’ve been trusted with a great deal. I want to believe that The Light is your first priority, and that you’re as dedicated to The Light as The Light has been to you. I’ve decided that we will be going back to the Northern Light as soon as possible.”

  Thank God!

  I exhaled.

  “To facilitate your ability to not only remain focused and find the envelope Brother Reuben wrongfully gave to you but to also continue the duties you’ve been given, Sister Sara will remain here at the Eastern . . .”

  No!

  Jacob caught me as my knees buckled.

  “Please, no,” I begged, new tears blurring my vision and ability to witness the horror on Jacob’s face.

  “Sister!” Father Gabriel said. “Questioning me was one thing, arguing with my decision is quite another.”

  “B-but”—I said a silent prayer that this wouldn’t make it worse—“I’m pregnant.”

  Jacob’s eyes closed as both Father Gabriel and Dylan asked, “What?”

  I collapsed in Jacob’s arms.

  CHAPTER 23

  Jacob

  What the fuck is happening?

  I scooped Sara’s limp body into my arms, her cheek against my chest. With everything in me I wanted to run out of this house, into the street, and beyond, yet I knew with Father Gabriel and Richards demanding answers, we’d never make it. Sara and I would be dead before we escaped this room.

  “What the fuck? She’s pregnant?” Richards asked, his volume louder than necessary.

  “Dylan! Brother Jacob, Brother Elijah will take her,” Father Gabriel offered, nodding toward Sara.

  I readjusted Sara in my arms. “She’s fine. I have her.”

  “For God’s sake,” Father Gabriel said, “at least put her on the sofa.”

  I turned to the wall behind me and saw a sofa I hadn’t noticed when we arrived. Nodding, I gently laid her on the soft leather and smoothed her hair away from her face. For only a millisecond her eyes opened and I knew the truth—she was awake. I feigned a smile at her, wanting her to know how proud I was
of her, and what a great job I thought she’d done. Damn, I’d wanted to pick her up and swing her in my arms when she’d called Richards Brother, but now . . . now . . . it didn’t fucking matter. Now it was all falling apart around us.

  “Brother Jacob.” Father Gabriel demanded my attention.

  I turned and straightened my stance, my leg against the sofa, not willing to leave Sara.

  “Did you authorize your wife to stop taking her medicine? As an Assemblyman, you should know this is too early. She’s only been on it for less than a year.”

  I exhaled. “No, I didn’t. She’s been counseling a female follower who works at the day care. After visiting the day care a couple of times, she began talking about children.”

  Richards shook his head in disbelief.

  I went on, “I told her we’d decided to wait.” I shifted my stance and exhaled. “I didn’t know she’d stopped taking her birth control until Thursday night, after prayer meeting.”

  Father Gabriel’s dark eyes opened in understanding as his brow disappeared behind his un-slicked-back hair. “I see.”

  Richards glared in my direction, sending more daggers with each second. If his uncle weren’t right next to him, I suspected he’d try to give his right hook another workout. “You fucking beat her because she’s pregnant?”

  “No,” I replied matter-of-factly. “I didn’t beat her. I corrected her, and not because she’s pregnant, but because in The Light, it’s not her place to make such decisions. It’s mine. She was willful. Her thoughts are my thoughts. She was disobedient not to share her plans for a child and make an unauthorized decision . . .” The entire time I spoke, regurgitating Father Gabriel’s rules, Father Gabriel pressed his lips together and nodded, while the vein in Richards’s neck pulsated and his nostrils flared.

  Richards stood and walked around his chair to the window. The large pane looked out over the backyards, pool, and tennis courts, and beyond, to the outbuildings and landing strip.

  “Dylan,” Father Gabriel said, “do you have anything to say?”

  He quickly turned. “Oh, yes, I have a shit-ton of things to say.”

  “Father,” I began, trying to stop Richards’s speech. With the pounding of my heart, the heart attack I’d mentioned to Sara earlier this morning seemed as if it was about to happen. “I’m not questioning your decision. I agree that I momentarily put my wife and her behavior above my duties. I assure you, I bought supplies in Fairbanks. Brother Noah can verify the purchases. Brother Micah can verify the supplies from the manifest, as the plane was unloaded. However, if I may, I beseech you to reconsider Sara’s fate. You gave me a wife and instructed me to bring her into The Light. As you can see, I did that. Even without her medication, Sara is a woman of The Light—part of the chosen. If you find fault in my behavior, correct me. Sara hasn’t been well. The morning sickness has been severe. Please let me take her back to the Northern Light, to our home, to Dr. Newton.”

  Richards’s hands came together, the clap echoing as another one filled the air, their recurrence coming faster and faster. “Bravo, Brother, for an abuser you almost sound sincere.”

  “Shut the hell up!” My nerves were fried. “You want her back. Why? You don’t care about her. If you did, she’d still be with you. If you did, she wouldn’t be with me!”

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

  Father Gabriel’s hand went in the air. “Enough. I’ve had enough of this pissing contest. Sara is staying here.”

  I clenched my teeth at the pain as he ripped my heart from my chest. After closing my eyes, I opened them in time to see Father Gabriel nod. I turned as Brother Uriel lifted a syringe from the bookcase.

  “No! Wait! What the hell is that?” I asked as I moved between him and Sara.

  “Step back, Brother,” Brother Elijah warned.

  “Father? What is that?”

  “It’s a syringe of the high-dose memory suppressor,” Father Gabriel said, as if he were discussing a glass of water.

  “Why?” Panic infiltrated my words as I remembered Sara’s reasoning for not resuming her medications. “She hasn’t gotten her memory back!” I took a deep breath, still keeping Elijah at bay. “Father, she knows your word. If you allow this, she’ll have to relearn it all. She studied hard, well enough that she counsels other females. She’s been doing your work. Why take that all away from her?”

  “Don’t you see?” Father Gabriel asked. “With no memory of the Northern Light or what she’s seen here, she can be reassigned. I can’t allow her to go back and tell others of what she’s seen.”

  Reassigned?

  “She won’t! I haven’t. You know I haven’t. Sara may be strong-willed, but she’s obedient. She won’t disappoint you or me. And what will that drug do to our baby?”

  “Brother, you said she stopped the medication of her own volition. You said you didn’t authorize a child. Besides, she can’t be reassigned if she’s pregnant.”

  “I said I didn’t authorize it, not that I didn’t want it. Father”—my voice held more emotion than I wanted—“don’t punish Sara and our child for my indiscretions. I’ll do whatever you want. Please let my wife go back with us to the Northern Light.”

  Father Gabriel waved Elijah away and looked at Richards.

  “No medicine, not yet,” Richards said, looking directly at his uncle. “Obviously she doesn’t have her memory. Fuck! She called me Brother.” He turned back toward the window. “I don’t understand how the hell it all works. Will I ever get Stella back?”

  “You gave her away,” I repeated for the millionth time.

  He spun toward me and through clenched jaws sneered, “I saved her fucking life!”

  “Enough!” Father Gabriel commanded. “I will not tolerate any more of this debate.” He waved his hand toward Elijah. “Take her.”

  “Father—” I said, once again blocking Elijah’s way.

  “Brother Jacob, if you do not step aside at this moment, I’ll be in need of a new pilot, and my nephew’s efforts will have been for naught. I’m tired of this. A female is not worth this much trouble.”

  Yes, Sara is.

  “You gave her to me. May I say good-bye?” I couldn’t stop the tears now descending my cheeks.

  He nodded. “Be quick about it. You may carry her to where she’ll stay. Dylan will show you the way.”

  Richards’s shoulders drooped, but he didn’t argue or turn back around.

  My body trembled as I turned and looked down at Sara. Her cheeks were coated in tears, though she’d managed to keep her emotions unheard. Hell, I didn’t know whether she had or not. If she’d made noise, we’d made more. However, even Elijah seemed unaware that Sara had been listening. Once I had her in my arms, I turned back to Father Gabriel. “I promise I’ll do all you ask. I’ve devoted myself to The Light and you. Father, I’m asking you to please keep her alive and safe. Please, after I’ve given you the envelope and earned back your trust, let me have her back. I’ll be the perfect follower, Assemblyman, and pilot. I’ll do anything you ask.”

  Father Gabriel stood, put his hands on the desk, and leaned forward. “Brother, because of your past performance and not based on anything you’ve said today, I’ll reconsider my decision after I see results. In the meantime she’ll stay alive.”

  I exhaled.

  “However,” he continued, “this female has caused me more problems than any who’ve been granted the same privilege. If the time comes to grant you your plea, be warned, you may not like what you find.”

  What the fuck?

  “Me,” I tried one more time. “Me, correct me. None of this is her fault.”

  I couldn’t see Richards’s face, as he was still peering out the window. Though his voice was low, I heard every word. “It’s all her fault. If she’d only listened.”

  I wasn’t supposed to understand, yet I did, and the clarity his words provided sent a chill down my spine.

  “Dylan,” Father Gabriel demande
d, “show Brother Jacob to Sara’s new room. Hurry, I have a plane to catch and I need a pilot.”

  I turned away, unable to look at Father Gabriel a second longer. I’d crash the damn plane if I thought it would save her.

  As Elijah opened the door, I looked directly into his dark eyes. Instead of meeting mine, his gaze dropped to the floor. We were Assemblymen. It was a fucking brotherhood, and yet here he was, holding the damn knife as Father Gabriel twisted. Richards remained quiet as I followed him down the hallway past an archway that led to a large kitchen. I didn’t pay any attention, but noticed women in the kitchen, all wearing the same white dress as the woman I’d seen by the door. Finally we came to another door.

  When Richards opened it, he hit a light switch and said, “Watch your step.”

  Really? Like he gives a shit.

  My entire body chilled as I stepped out of the opulence and into a cold, dreary world. As if she could sense my apprehension, Sara’s body shivered in my grasp, and her sad blue eyes peered up toward mine. I didn’t want Richards to see, but in our brief gaze I tried to convey as much as I could. I tried to tell her I loved her, I’d move heaven and hell to get back to her, and I didn’t want to do this.

  Step by step, down into the underbelly of the mansion we went. The length of the staircase told me that this was more than the lower level—it was a subbasement. Even the temperature dropped as we continued down. When we neared the bottom, the wall to my right ended, and I stood in disgust at where we were, at what I saw. Unpainted concrete blocks created thick walls, while instead of crystal lighting fixtures, as I’d seen upstairs, naked lightbulbs hung from the ceiling. The room was nothing more than an unfinished cement box—even the floor was smooth, cold cement.

  The permeating odor of disinfectant stung my lungs and reminded me of the clinic at the Northern Light. When I looked up to the ceiling there were exposed wooden beams with thick insulation stapled in between.

  I didn’t want to think about its purpose. Was it to keep the cold from the floor above or sound?

  The only furniture in the room was four worn couches, appearing as if they belonged in a fraternity house or a garage sale, not a multi-million-dollar mansion. Four doors interrupted the concrete block. The first one was open, and I stopped, glancing inside. The room reminded me of barracks I’d inhabited, but more cramped. In a space I doubted was bigger than ten feet by ten feet were three sets of bunk beds with thin mattresses. As in an army barracks, each bed was made, the sheets perfectly folded and tucked in place, and like the larger room with the couches, this one was without color. Gray walls, gray metal bed frames, and gray blankets. Only the pillows were different. Still void of color, they were white.