Deep Redemption
Page 92
I shook my head. I had no idea why he would hold a communion with the Hangmen attack so close.
Dozens upon dozens of people began to fill the vast space. The guards swarmed around them like vultures, shouting at them to sit down. Children began crying; fear, like a perfect storm, swept among the masses. The guards aimed their guns at the people who showed too much panic or questioned what was happening.
I didn’t know how much time passed. It felt like only minutes before the entire commune was sitting on the grass before us. The heat was stifling. Babies cried and children wailed. The adults were praying in earnest, rocking back and forth, as the guards, dressed all in black, fired warning shots into the air. The fear was palpable . . . and all I could do was sit and watch.
Judah walked to the platform that was permanently in the field. He held a microphone in his hand. As before, a creepy stillness fell over him . . . then he began to preach . . .
“People of The Order,” Judah began. He held a hand up in the air, and like they always did, the people fell silent. It was eerie to watch as they all stared at him, hanging on his every word. Their gazes were fixed upon him . . . and I saw it. I saw, in full technicolor, the absolute power he had over them that I had never owned. His tone of voice was magnetizing, and the way his eyes ran over each and every row of believers seemed to connect with them all on a personal level.
Up on that stage, he was their messiah.
“They will do anything he wants them to,” I whispered. I watched my twin step to the side of the stage, hundreds of eager eyes following his every movement.
“The Lord had, many weeks ago, revealed to us that we were to take on the devil’s men in a holy war. It was a task we have prepared for for weeks . . . ” He paused, then said, “But today I received a new message. An important one . . . one that will save all our souls without facing down the demons.”
My eyes narrowed as he dropped his head. When he raised it again, he motioned to the guards and elders. My stomach dropped when I saw them remove the tops of the barrels and open the sealed boxes.
“Can you see what is in them?” Stephen asked. I craned my neck to see.
“Syringes,” I said in confusion. I looked to Ruth and Stephen. “Why would they have syringes and wine?”
No one spoke. So we kept watching. We watched as the most dedicated women and men were gathered and sent to the carts. They began to fill the syringes with the deep red wine that was in the barrels. The men and women gathered the syringes in baskets and began handing them out to the adults sitting on the grass. The children watched on in curiosity, reaching for the syringes.
Judah watched with a proud smile on his face. But I didn’t like the look of that smile. Nothing about this was reassuring. I was so fucking lost.
“What’s so important about those damn syringes?” I hissed. Panic took hold of me as the guards and elders formed a barrier around the people. They made a fucking wall. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steel bars of the door.
Judah took the mic again. “The Lord singled each and every one of you—us—out. Only you, the truly blessed, chose the right path in this world filled with evil and sin. The Lord has seen how we have obeyed him these past few weeks, and he is proud.” Judah’s face took on a concerned expression. “But we have also battled the devil in the process. A mighty adversary. Some of our most faithful members were corrupted and pulled under Satan’s control. And the prophecy ensuring our salvation was thwarted by a demon in disguise . . . a person I trusted with my life.” My stomach fell; he was talking about me.
“But then God spoke to me again.” Judah smiled, and the people smiled back. “God, in all his infinite wisdom and benevolence, saw how devoted we were to his cause, to his name . . . so much so that we were willing to walk through the gates of hell and sacrifice our souls for his glory . . . so that we could proudly reside with him in heaven, content in the knowledge that we served him to the utmost in this life.”
Judah walked back to center stage. “People of The Order. The Lord called to me on this very day. He called to me as we prepared for battle. We believed that we were taking the fight to the devil’s door, but the truth is . . . they are coming for us. In fact, they are on their way.”
The crowd burst into a terror-filled frenzy. People jumped to their feet, trying to break through the wall of guards. But the guards pushed them back, hitting them with the butts of their guns to settle them down.
Brother Michael and Brother James fired shot after shot into the air. The people dropped to the ground. I studied Judah. My skin crawled. Judah watched from the stage with a potent hunger in his eyes. He was relishing the chaos. In this moment, he was a lord over the innocent.
Dozens upon dozens of people began to fill the vast space. The guards swarmed around them like vultures, shouting at them to sit down. Children began crying; fear, like a perfect storm, swept among the masses. The guards aimed their guns at the people who showed too much panic or questioned what was happening.
I didn’t know how much time passed. It felt like only minutes before the entire commune was sitting on the grass before us. The heat was stifling. Babies cried and children wailed. The adults were praying in earnest, rocking back and forth, as the guards, dressed all in black, fired warning shots into the air. The fear was palpable . . . and all I could do was sit and watch.
Judah walked to the platform that was permanently in the field. He held a microphone in his hand. As before, a creepy stillness fell over him . . . then he began to preach . . .
“People of The Order,” Judah began. He held a hand up in the air, and like they always did, the people fell silent. It was eerie to watch as they all stared at him, hanging on his every word. Their gazes were fixed upon him . . . and I saw it. I saw, in full technicolor, the absolute power he had over them that I had never owned. His tone of voice was magnetizing, and the way his eyes ran over each and every row of believers seemed to connect with them all on a personal level.
Up on that stage, he was their messiah.
“They will do anything he wants them to,” I whispered. I watched my twin step to the side of the stage, hundreds of eager eyes following his every movement.
“The Lord had, many weeks ago, revealed to us that we were to take on the devil’s men in a holy war. It was a task we have prepared for for weeks . . . ” He paused, then said, “But today I received a new message. An important one . . . one that will save all our souls without facing down the demons.”
My eyes narrowed as he dropped his head. When he raised it again, he motioned to the guards and elders. My stomach dropped when I saw them remove the tops of the barrels and open the sealed boxes.
“Can you see what is in them?” Stephen asked. I craned my neck to see.
“Syringes,” I said in confusion. I looked to Ruth and Stephen. “Why would they have syringes and wine?”
No one spoke. So we kept watching. We watched as the most dedicated women and men were gathered and sent to the carts. They began to fill the syringes with the deep red wine that was in the barrels. The men and women gathered the syringes in baskets and began handing them out to the adults sitting on the grass. The children watched on in curiosity, reaching for the syringes.
Judah watched with a proud smile on his face. But I didn’t like the look of that smile. Nothing about this was reassuring. I was so fucking lost.
“What’s so important about those damn syringes?” I hissed. Panic took hold of me as the guards and elders formed a barrier around the people. They made a fucking wall. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steel bars of the door.
Judah took the mic again. “The Lord singled each and every one of you—us—out. Only you, the truly blessed, chose the right path in this world filled with evil and sin. The Lord has seen how we have obeyed him these past few weeks, and he is proud.” Judah’s face took on a concerned expression. “But we have also battled the devil in the process. A mighty adversary. Some of our most faithful members were corrupted and pulled under Satan’s control. And the prophecy ensuring our salvation was thwarted by a demon in disguise . . . a person I trusted with my life.” My stomach fell; he was talking about me.
“But then God spoke to me again.” Judah smiled, and the people smiled back. “God, in all his infinite wisdom and benevolence, saw how devoted we were to his cause, to his name . . . so much so that we were willing to walk through the gates of hell and sacrifice our souls for his glory . . . so that we could proudly reside with him in heaven, content in the knowledge that we served him to the utmost in this life.”
Judah walked back to center stage. “People of The Order. The Lord called to me on this very day. He called to me as we prepared for battle. We believed that we were taking the fight to the devil’s door, but the truth is . . . they are coming for us. In fact, they are on their way.”
The crowd burst into a terror-filled frenzy. People jumped to their feet, trying to break through the wall of guards. But the guards pushed them back, hitting them with the butts of their guns to settle them down.
Brother Michael and Brother James fired shot after shot into the air. The people dropped to the ground. I studied Judah. My skin crawled. Judah watched from the stage with a potent hunger in his eyes. He was relishing the chaos. In this moment, he was a lord over the innocent.
