by Logan Jacobs
Barnaby remained unimpressed with our decision, and after a large yawn, he moved away from Sorcha’s chair and settled down by the fire. He closed his eyes like he was asleep, but I noticed that he opened them every time Freya shifted. The Weimaraner would watch her carefully until she stilled again, and then he would settle again.
“That dog hates me,” Freya huffed after one incident.
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “It’s just the way he’s been trained. But once he realized that we were treating you as a friend, he hasn’t done anything but watch you.”
“It’s still not right,” Freya complained. “How am I supposed to sleep knowing all those dogs that have been trained to hunt and kill me are right next door?”
“They obey Simon and Beth without question,” Sorcha assured her. “Unless they change the command and tell the dogs to attack, I don’t think they will.”
“Well, that one keeps watching me,” the rabbit woman insisted.
“He does,” I agreed. “It’s like he can’t decide how friendly he should be.”
“Dogs can unlearn behaviors as well as learn them,” the ex-trooper offered. “I’m sure this one could become your friend.”
“I don’t intend to be here long enough to find out,” Freya snorted, which drew another look from the dog.
I heard footsteps in the kitchen, and we all glanced toward the other room. A moment later, Simon appeared and blinked at the four strangers gathered around the fireplace. I saw a look of relief spread across the Amish man’s face when he saw Barnaby, and for a moment I thought he was afraid I had lost the dog. But as Simon moved past the four of us to talk to the dog, I realized that he was relieved that he had someone else to talk to besides the strangers in his house. Barnaby listened intently to everything his trainer had to say and even thumped his tail against the floor a few times.
“Beth made up the beds?” Simon asked when he finally turned to face the four of us.
“She did,” Sorcha assured him.
“And your horses?” Simon added.
“Tucked in for the night,” I told him. “They were very happy to meet your mare.”
“Ruth,” Simon said with a nod. “Though Beth sometimes calls her Ruthless.”
Having apparently expended all of his conversational skills, Simon bobbed his head a few times and then retreated to the kitchen. We could hear him banging pots and pans around as he worked on something, and then the kettle started to whistle once again. Since Barnaby had flipped over onto his back and now slept with all four paws in the air, I assumed that this was normal behavior from Simon.
Sorcha found a pack of cards on top of the piano for a game called ‘Uno’, and between Darwin’s explanations and the yellowed instruction sheet that was tucked inside the box, we soon immersed ourselves in the game. I barely noticed when Beth returned and joined Simon in the kitchen, and it was only when she tapped politely on the wall that we looked up from the cards. I looked out the window and saw that the day was drawing to a close, and I finally registered the scent of potatoes that drifted from the kitchen.
“Oh, gosh,” Freya said in a startled voice. “The day’s almost over, and we haven’t helped you one bit. I was supposed to help peel the potatoes.”
“It’s already done,” Beth replied. “Simon doesn’t like anyone to help him anyway.”
“I gather it’s time to leave,” Darwin sniffed as he stretched.
“In a few minutes,” Beth agreed. “I thought I would warn you that Jacob may try to spread you out among the other tables, so you should steer away from him when we enter the building. We’ll use the side entrance, so hopefully he won’t see you right away, and we can take seats at the table near the door, so we can leave quickly. Ignatius said he would get there early and make sure to hold the table for us.”
“I don’t suppose I could claim I was sick,” Freya pouted.
“Then they might send a doctor,” Sorcha said.
“And you would be here alone,” Darwin added. “That’s not going to happen.”
“It will be fine,” Beth urged.
“We’ll protect you,” I added. “And there’s always Barnaby as well.”
Freya stuck her tongue out at the dog, but she finally unwrapped herself from the blanket and pulled her hair back in the loose ponytail that I knew was part of her camouflage. I watched as she carefully tucked her rabbit ears out of sight, though anyone who didn’t know about her rabbit mutations would think she was simply styling her hair.
After sorting through the pile of boots and jackets, we were finally ready to make our way to the dinner. Barnaby was exiled to the kennels with the rest of the dogs, despite the sad eyes he cast at the trainers. Beth and Sorcha each carried a large pan filled with fried potatoes smothered in a cheese sauce, while Darwin and I carried pitchers of cold mint tea. Simon and Freya brought up the rear, each with a plate of cookies.
As Beth had instructed, we made our way toward the side entrance of what looked like a large hall. A few other Amish used the door as well, though to judge by the number of buggies parked in the field next door and the people that stood nearby, most people seemed to use the front door.
We slipped inside with barely a glance cast our way, though Ignatius and his wife must have been looking for our arrival. No sooner had we stepped inside than Ignatius and his family descended on us. Our contributions to the night’s dinner were turned over to the kids, who quickly ran toward a group of long tables near the back, while Ignatius introduced his wife Leah all while he quickly conducted us toward a round table along the far wall. It was definitely not the prime table, and the rest of the guests seemed more than happy to leave it to us.
“Here comes Jacob,” Ignatius warned after we’d taken our seats at the table.
I spotted the elder as he walked slowly among his faithful. He shook hands and listened politely whenever someone spoke, but he still moved quickly through the crowd. He frowned when he saw us all seated at the same table, and I saw him motion toward one of the other men. The man nodded and started toward our table, only to be overrun by Ignatius’ kids as they returned from their delivery duties.
Before Jacob could make it as far as our table, another elder intercepted him and directed him toward the front of the room. The rest of the Amish quickly sat down, and by the time Jacob was in place at the front of the vast room, everyone was seated and quiet. Jacob turned and looked over the sea of faces, then held up both hands, palms down, before closing his eyes.
“We are gathered here, in the eyes of God, to offer thanks for the bounty He has provided and the protection He has offered us during our time of need,” Jacob began. “We thank Him for bringing these four strangers into our community, so that we could help each other, as He has instructed us to do so. We offer prayers for those who were injured so that they will quickly return to health and to our community. And most importantly, we offer our love and devotion to the one true God, and offer ourselves as his faithful servants.”
“Thank you, elder Jacob,” another man declared when it was clear that Jacob had finished. “Now, let’s eat, and then elder John will tell us about the demons of the forest.”
The hall quickly filled with noise as everyone stood up and made their way to the tables laden with food. Several of the younger women manned the tables and handed each person a plate and a set of silverware wrapped in a napkin to start with, then added a heaping serving of each dish as we moved down the line. My plate felt like it weighed about ten pounds by the time I reached the end of the line, and a young girl handed me a smaller plate with a selection of deserts.
I had to admit that I was happy we had decided to take part in the feast. The food was delicious, and to describe it as filling was an understatement. There was a brisket so tender that it fell apart on the fork and fried chicken that crunched when I bit into it. The cheesy potatoes that our hosts had prepared were dense and rich and had enough tang that I slurped down plenty of the mint tea while I ate them.
; By the time I’d finally nibbled on my last cookie, my waistband was feeling a bit tight, and I was starting to believe that a nap was in order. I wasn’t the only one either, to judge by how quiet the room had become. I saw Sorcha stifle a yawn while both Freya and Darwin had gone glassy-eyed.
When a small army of Amish women began to clear away the last signs of dinner, I thought we would say a few goodbyes and then make good on our escape. Ignatius seemed to believe that as well as he stood up and told his children to find their coats and anything else they’d taken off and get ready to leave. But Jacob could move fast when he wanted to, and he moved into position at the front of the dinner crowd while several younger men went to stand by both of the exits. Ignatius hesitated for a moment, then slowly sank back down into his chair.
“I think we should begin tonight’s service by thanking everyone who contributed to the meal,” Jacob declared. “The food was quite wonderful.”
There were murmurs of approval and a few brief claps. I wasn’t quite sure what the appropriate response was, so I looked at the Amish folk at our table. None of them looked especially happy at the moment, though Ignatius managed a couple of quick claps. Simon, on the other hand, looked as if he wanted to crawl under the table, and Beth bit her lip so hard I was surprised it didn’t start bleeding.
“Given the events of the day, I thought I would speak tonight about the demons that inhabit our world,” Jacob continued. “It is important that we recognize the evil they represent and glory in the God who protects us from their schemes.”
“Ugh,” I heard Darwin grunt.
“As I look out, it is amazing to me to realize that the vast majority of people gathered in this space know only about the before time from stories,” Jacob sighed. “To you, it sounds like a fairy tale to have a world where demons and their acolytes did not exist. But let me remind you, that evil existed even in that world, though its minions were harder to spot. Our ancestors lived apart from that world as a way to protect themselves from the horrors that abounded.”
“Besides, that other world would have busted them for child abuse and a few hundred other criminal charges if they hadn’t isolated themselves,” Darwin snickered.
“In this world, God has made the demons easier to spot, but that doesn’t make our struggles any easier,” Jacob declared. “These creatures roam freely across the land and openly display their powers. They may call themselves mages or mutants, but the truth is known to those who have kept faith with the one true God. They are demons, and they have taken control of the world beyond our valley.”
“Well, they have done that,” Sorcha murmured. “Though I think they might be offended at being called demons.”
“Remember that the demons do not serve the Glory of God,” Jacob added. “They may promise you a better world and whisper stories to you of an endless summer, but these are traps. You must be wary of these false promises and keep faith with your God. For He will help you see the traps that have been set and keep you safe when the world around descends into chaos and darkness.”
“Chaos and darkness,” most of the Amish replied in kind.
“Who will protect us?” Jacob demanded.
“The one true God, our father and savior,” the crowd replied.
“And what is our mission?”
“To serve God on earth and in heaven,” the crowd responded.
“And how will we serve him on earth?” Jacob queried.
“By living a true and simple life,” the Amish replied.
“And?” Jacob pressed.
“By defending his name against all evils,” the crowd insisted.
“We stand against evil,” Jacob intoned.
“We defeat evil,” the crowd replied.
“We name the evil so that it has no power over us,” Jacob continued.
“We name thee demons,” the crowd added.
“Sorcerers, mutants, and all their creations,” Jacob bellowed. “We see thee, we know thee, we name thee demons.”
“Kill the demons!” the crowd roared.
I glanced around our table and saw that Freya had sunk low in her chair, and Sorcha looked a couple of degrees paler. Darwin was sizing up the men on the door and clearly planning an escape route. Ignatius and his wife had joined the table pounding, though neither looked very happy. All I could see of Simon was the top of his hair since the rest of him had nearly disappeared beneath the table. Only Beth had the grace to look embarrassed, and when she caught my eye, she shook her head slightly.
The promises to hunt down and kill the demons of the world continued for another half hour, with other speakers stepping to the front to lambast mages, mutants, and anyone who didn’t live a true Amish lifestyle. It was hard not to feel uncomfortable, to say the least, and if I had believed that we could find our way along the snow packed trail in the dead of night, I would have ridden out of the town as soon as the doors were finally opened.
As it was, we had to make small talk with many of the Amish as we tried to make our way toward the exit after the last speaker. Most of the comments were about the inspirational nature of the night’s events, usually followed by invitations for us to join the community and become part of god’s true path. It was Darwin who finally found the easiest way to disengage from the Amish was to claim that we had been called to the west to fight the evil there.
Somehow, we made it outside without encountering Jacob or any of the other speakers, and once free of the mass of people, Beth and Simon were able to hustle us back to the house while the rest of the Amish still lingered at the hall. No one said a word until we were safely back in the piano room with a roaring fire and the scent of coffee brewing in the kitchen.
“That was… something,” Sorcha stated as she watched the other residents start to amble slowly along the streets.
“I’m so sorry,” Beth sighed. “I had hoped we could slip out before that began. The few outsiders that have been allowed to participate in those services often find them uncomfortable.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Freya said sarcastically. “I half expected the crowd to bring out a rope and string us up in the rafters.”
“Oh, no, no one would ever do that,” Beth protested. “For all the talk, most of us still abhor violence. We will defend ourselves, but we will never attack another sentient being.”
“You said most,” Darwin pointed out.
Beth glanced at Simon as he stood up and retreated toward the kitchen. We could hear him preparing the mugs for everyone, and Beth waited until he came back with the tray before she answered.
“There are a small number who believe we should not hunt de--mutants and mages as if they were animals,” Beth said quietly.
“Not good,” Simon mumbled. “Only supposed to hunt what you need to survive.”
“I take it Jacob believes that demon hunting is good,” I mused.
“He does,” Beth agreed. “And his position as elder means that we must listen to him and obey him.”
“Even if you don’t agree with him?” Sorcha demanded.
Beth merely shrugged, though it was hard to miss the troubled expression on her face. I tried to imagine the internal struggle she faced, caught between an ancient belief that you hunted only what you needed, and the requirement that you obey your elders.
“So what if he preaches that?” Freya chimed in. “You don’t have to follow him.”
“But we do,” Beth replied. “If we refuse, we will be removed from the rolls and exiled from the church. That means exile from this valley as well, and everything we’ve ever known.”
“Don’t want to leave the valley,” Simon mumbled.
“But…” Freya started to protest.
“It’s always been like that,” Darwin interjected.
Beth nodded and took another sip of the coffee. No one spoke for several minutes, and the only sounds in the room were the clink of the mugs whenever someone set one down and the crackle of the flames. I could tell I wasn’t the only one strugg
ling to come up with something to say, but I wasn’t sure where to even begin.
We finished the coffee, and our Amish hosts retired to their rooms for the night. The four of us stayed by the fire while we played a few desultory hands of Uno, and the tension was nearly unbearable.
“I’m just going to say it,” Freya finally declared. “That was freaking weird, and I can not wait to get out of this place.”
“I think we should have watch shifts tonight,” Darwin added. “After that service, I’m not so sure they intend to let us just leave peacefully.”
“What was the point of making us sit through that?” Sorcha asked. “Is he trying to let us know that they know what we are?”
“It may be a test,” I suggested. “If we try to flee in the night, they’ll take that as a sign that we’re demons.”
“I don’t care,” Freya huffed as she glanced out the window, “if I could have found my own way out of that mutant-infested forest tonight, I would have. These people are even creepier than the mutants.”
“What were they like before the meteorite?” I asked.
“That’s a loaded question,” Darwin replied. “The truth is, they’re human and subject to the same problems as the rest of us, no matter what they try to tell you about living the simple life. Sexual abuse of girls and young women was common, and free thought was strongly discouraged. Children were taught just enough to keep the local authorities away, but more advanced studies were not permitted. Depression among married women was rampant, and young men were often forced from the community if the elders decided they posed a threat to the older males in the community.”
“So much for an idyllic life,” Sorcha noted.
“But people stayed,” I pressed.
“They did,” Darwin agreed. “For some, it was easier than trying to live in a world that was completely alien. And, of course, most didn’t even realize that there were other options. If every young girl in your community is being sexually abused, then you think that’s normal and accept it.”
As we contemplated that, I heard the bell in the tower start to toll. But this was a different pattern than the one that had alerted the town to our arrival and the attack of the mutants. We stood up, ready to leap into action again, but none of the men tumbled into the streets with pitchforks, nor did we see any hordes of attacking demons.
