The Follower Page 23
‘I haven’t done anything wrong. You’re mistaken.’ On the outside she was icy, but inside the emotions were flooding her sensory capacity, threatening overload. Had her father told him what had happened? She’d kill that useless old man if he’d spilled their secret.
James moved closer and took her hand in his, flipped it over and stared down at her palm. She was afraid of what he would see there and tried to tug it away from him, but his grip was strong.
‘You have a long lifeline. And important work to do. You are called to greatness, whoever you are. I can help show you the way.’
He stared deep into her eyes.
‘I know how you feel, Caroline. Perhaps no one else has ever tried to understand you.’
She blinked.
‘I know you feel alone. Because I know what that feels like. You see, I was orphaned when I was twelve. I lived on the streets, begging for scraps of food, running away from the social workers. I did what I had to do. I stole. I hurt people, Caroline. I had to. It was me or them in this world, and I chose me. And I wasn’t wrong. It was the most noble thing I could have done. We have lived alone for a reason, to form ourselves out of the weak putty of human flesh into something divine. Now we don’t have to live in solitude. Together we can form a new covenant. I will show you the way.’
He stroked her hair with one hand, then ran his finger along her lower lip. She couldn’t move.
‘You are only resisting me because you feel how strongly this force is between us. It scares you. I understand that. I am here to help you in your time of need.’
Cora pulled her hand free and stood up.
‘You know nothing about me. Stay away from me. I don’t want your help.’
She stumbled over him and out of the shed into the rain. The drops hit her like hail. It was one of the seven plagues to be sure, punishing her for her multiple transgressions.
He called after her, his hand cupped around his mouth.
‘Caroline, come back to me. I am the only one who can help you. Don’t wander alone in the desert. Let me be your refuge and strength.’
She ran hard, pushing the wet strands of hair out of her face. The clouds parted and forks of white lightning shot from the sky, hitting the earth at the edge of the horizon in front of her. She tripped and fell to the ground, spitting out rain. She clawed at the dirt beneath her, throwing it away in fistfuls as she dragged herself up and fled across the open landscape. She looked back: he was behind her, walking at his usual pace through the torrents. No matter how fast she went, he’d catch up with her eventually.
She couldn’t run forever.
CHAPTER 41
A week had passed since the girl had tried to kill her. Cora did her duty even then, keeping her alive though she couldn’t bear to look at her. She’d never felt so alone. She couldn’t believe this is where everything had led – trapped with this pregnant girl, desperate for money, waiting for the authorities to find her and take her away to prison, the asylum, the electric chair. Her life was a ticking time bomb, a vise that had no release.
She thought she might burst open.
With these pressures mounting inside her, she had no patience for the girl’s constant entreaties.
‘I want to tell you again how sorry I am. I have been tortured by guilt ever since that day.’ There she was, blathering as usual. Her glittering green eyes cast about frantically for any hold on Cora.
But Cora stared straight ahead, carelessly dropping the tray to the floor, letting it clatter against the tiles as flecks of mush hit the wall. She folded her arms, waiting impatiently for the girl to begin.
‘You’ve done so much for me.’ Sure enough, she was off. ‘I’m so grateful. You feed me, care for me, talk to me. You’ve been like a mother to me.’
Liar. So many lies.
‘I know this isn’t your doing. It’s him. I don’t blame you. He brought me in to torture you. Don’t let him use me as an instrument. Let us unite.’
Cora couldn’t listen to her.
‘Eat your food, girl, before I take it away.’
The girl fell to the floor at last, but ignored the tray. She beat her chest with her fist.
‘Haven’t you ever done anything that made you regret your whole existence? Haven’t you ever felt guilt like this?’
Cora saw Reed’s face, felt his warm blood running out over her hand.
‘Shut up. I’ve had enough of your nonsense.’
The girl shoved aside the plate of uneaten food and crawled across the floor, prostrating herself at Cora’s feet. She touched the edges of Cora’s scuffed work boots with her grimy fingertips and looked up at her with imploring eyes. Cora wanted to stomp on her hands, to pull her hair out at the roots.
‘I know you have regrets, too,’ the girl cried. ‘I can see it. I’ve spent every second of this last week thinking about our … situation and what I’ve come to realize is this – we are exactly the same.’
Cora clenched her teeth, felt her jaw set. What was she talking about?
‘Don’t you see it? You and I, we’re in identical positions.’
Cora’s anger flared.
‘How dare you say that? I’m his wife.’ The girl should know better. She should watch her mouth.
‘We’re both captives, though. You may be able to leave this room, but you can’t get out of this place. He has a grip on your mind and you can do nothing but serve him.’
Cora’s heart raced. That was exactly how it was. How could this girl know what it was like?
‘He has you working night and day to keep me alive, to take care of this house and the farm—’
The girl stopped suddenly.
‘To raise two hundred and fifty dollars,’ Cora finished without thinking. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
The girl, her eyes locked on Cora, struggled to her knees and clasped Cora’s hands in hers. With shaking fingers she tried to pull Cora toward her, but she resisted.
‘We can only make it if we are together,’ the girl whispered urgently. ‘We could be like the Followers once were, toiling together, side by side. We can make this house a home.’
Their shadowy outlines flashed in Cora’s mind, walking side by side in their coarse cotton robes, arms lifted to the skies in holy ecstasy. She shook the image away. How dare this girl invoke them? How dare she?
‘You told me once that I was a gift. Perhaps I am, but not the way you thought. Maybe I’ve been sent to build a family – the Divine Family – with you. Not with him.’
Cora jumped back, startled.
What fresh blasphemy was this?
And yet.
Was there any chance they had misinterpreted the Revelation? Could the Servant at Hand have been sent to her? To help her? Could this be the reward for her suffering?
The Wife shall suffer, but in suffering shall find her Great Reward.
‘I am ready to accept my fate now. No more fighting it. I want –’ the girl looked down at her belly, holding it with both hands – ‘I want the baby to have a family. You’ve shown me that, despite everything, there is love in your heart. What I haven’t told you is that the child responds to your presence, to the sound of your voice – I can feel it move when you enter the room. It wants you.’ She paused and looked up at Cora’s face. ‘Together we can make things right. All of it.’
Cora gaped at the girl’s protruding stomach. Could it be true? Was it her child tucked in there? The one she’d lost, reborn through the mystery of the Word. With a little pixie face and Reed’s eyes.
‘Consider the facts. He’s been gone so long,’ the girl went on. ‘I don’t think he’s coming back. It’s just the two of us now, plus the child. Why live apart when we can coexist in peace and harmony, as you did with the Followers, sharing the burdens, rejoicing in a common vision?’
Maybe he wouldn’t come back if she didn’t send the money. She shouldn’t think that way, but the truth was, she had been. The girl’s words only echoed her own shameful thoughts. Wh
at would it be like if he never returned?
The girl paused and took a deep breath. She rose to her feet and approached Cora with slow, halting steps. This time Cora let her take her hands. The girl gently placed them on her stomach and Cora felt the child shift within her. Her child.
‘We are the same.’ The girl’s chapped lips trembled. ‘We’ve both lost everything. I’ve lost my family and Mark. You’ve lost Reed and your child from long ago. Think about it.’
Cora was thinking.
‘Together you and I can restore your family and build a home,’ the girl said. ‘We can pick up the pieces. We can … we can fulfill the unfulfilled.’
Cora listened, she imagined.
‘Let me come downstairs and I’ll prove it. Housework. Farm work. I’ll do anything you need. Please let me help you. Let us toil together.’
Cora felt confused. Images jammed up in her head of life on the road, in the camps, on the farm. She’d always felt alone. The family she’d been looking for had never materialized anywhere.
The girl squeezed her hands and lifted them to her chest. She closed her eyes as if making a wish, then opened them, beseeching Cora with her steady gaze.
‘Would you please call me Julie? That’s my name. Julie.’
Could this girl hold the answer, a spell to weave together the finished and the unfinished? With James gone, perhaps they could rebuild what she’d lost. If the girl had been sent to bring back her child, then the meaning of it all was suddenly clear. It was more than the girl even realized. It could be a final chance for her, a new Path in the dark wilderness of fate. She finally understood the true Revelation.
She shook her head, her mind on fire.
‘No,’ she said, pulling away from the girl and moving toward the door, dizzy with emotion. ‘No, your name is not Julie. Forget that name. Your name is Laura.’
CHAPTER 42
It amazed Cora to see that her father had broken away so cleanly from James’s cult. He must have grown bored with it. Or maybe he’d merely wanted an excuse to fall off the wagon. Either way, she never thought she’d be so glad to see him passed out and reeking of booze. When she’d returned to the trailer to find him that way the first time, she could hardly contain her delight. The old world was better than the new.
For a few weeks, too, she’d managed to avoid James. Her heart was light and her anxieties substantially calmed. She’d spent more time in town, buying school supplies and hitting the thrift stores to compile a dress-code-compliant wardrobe. Her hopes had risen on the thought that she’d possibly over-reacted to the threat James had posed. That summer she’d been at her most vulnerable, mourning and unstable, but she was pulling out of it now in time to forge ahead with life.
She still thought about Reed every day, but time had had a transformative effect. Now he was a sort of guardian angel, hovering over her, without blame and without regret. She’d managed to separate her feelings from their actions that day. She’d swept the blood and violence clean from her mind. It was pointless to dwell on it. Whatever had happened, had happened, and now she was lucky enough to start over in a new town, with new friends, and a new outlook. She had no choice but to embrace this fresh beginning and put the past behind her. Her survival depended on it.
All was well then, until the day she went out walking the fields again and stumbled upon James shooting at a row of cans. She should have stopped then, turned and run back to the camp. But she felt strong now and he seemed to have lost interest in her for the time being. Plus, she was curious. She’d never seen a real gun before, and he had three of them, loaded and ready for aim.
He spotted her immediately, put his weapons down in a row on the grass, and stood waiting for her, his arms folded and a cunning smile on his face.
‘Have you come to tell me your name?’ he said, winking.
She found herself smiling back. It all seemed so innocent now. He didn’t believe all that stuff either. Why had she taken it so seriously before?
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she joked in return.
‘I see,’ he replied with his smile fading. He turned his back to her, lifting the rifle up to his shoulder and facing his ad-hoc firing range. He’d set up a pile of cement blocks she recognized from a deserted site at the edge of the trailer park. On top of them he’d lined a row of empties he could very well have gathered from their own garbage can.
She held still, watching him. Everything on earth paused as he concentrated on his task. He pulled the trigger and a Miller Lite can sailed up in the air and fell behind the cement blocks. He was good. A pro.
He turned to her.
‘Want to try it?’
She did. But she didn’t want him to know how badly.
She shrugged.
‘I guess.’
He handed her the gun, and, standing behind her, foot for foot, put his arms around her with his hands over her grip. He slid his finger under hers to place it on the trigger. Her body felt electric. It was like Reed all over again. But no, he wasn’t Reed. He was infinitely more sinister, infinitely more dangerous.
Nevertheless, she closed her eyes and let the warm feeling wash over her. He lingered a few seconds too long, apparently also savoring the feeling of standing so close. At last he let her go and moved to her side. She couldn’t bear to look at him, to let him see the desire on her face. It would be a catastrophe.
‘Focus on the target, let your eyes and hands guide you.’
She nodded.
‘Stop moving your head. Let your mind merge with the gun. You must be one with the instrument of death.’
She lifted her head up from the sights.
‘What?’
‘Never mind. Just focus on your target. Hold still. Your whole body must be immobilized until the second you pull the trigger.’
She let her eyes drift back to the Sprite can across the field, willing herself to be one with it. Almost without realizing it, she pulled the trigger and the rifle recoiled in her arms, thrusting her backwards.
The can tipped off the edge of its block.
She’d done it. He clapped.
It had been such a rush. She felt bold, empowered, suddenly fearless.
‘Well done. You’re a natural. Try the pistol.’
He lifted the rifle from her hands and replaced it with the compact metal of the handgun. He showed her how to hold it, again by putting his arms around her from behind. This time his lips brushed her ear as he whispered his instructions. She felt an overwhelming urge to turn to him, but she forced herself to stare straight ahead. It wouldn’t matter if she did, though, would it? She was safe from him now. She was going to school in two weeks. His spell was broken, wasn’t it?
She shot and missed.
‘Don’t worry, Car-o-line, you’ll get the hang of it. I’ll give you lessons.’
She handed the gun back to him, her head clearer now. She stepped away from him into the safe zone just out of his reach as he lined the weapons on the ground in the space he’d set up for them. He opened the canteen that hung from his shoulder strap, took a drink, then offered her one.
She shook her head. She had to get out of there.
‘Wait. Stay a minute. It’s almost as if you’ve been purposefully avoiding me these past few weeks.’
She blushed.
‘I’ve been busy. I’m going back to school this fall.’
‘Oh? Where?’
‘Piedmont High.’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘How old are you?’
She’d turned fifteen the month before.
‘Eighteen.’ The lie slipped off her tongue unbidden. ‘I missed some school though, so I’m behind. I want to finish up.’
He nodded, taking this in.
‘Eighteen. Good.’
Her face was hot. Why had she said that?
He took her hands in his, pulling her to the ground.
‘Sit with me. We need to talk.’
She felt desperate.
‘I have to go. I need to see how my father is.’
‘Speaking of your father. He seems to have lost his faith. Fallen back on his weaknesses.’
‘That was inevitable. It’s who he is.’
‘But that’s not who you are, Caroline. Your father is not worthy – he should tell you himself why. But I can see that you’re different. You are chosen. I also know – I feel quite strongly that there is a secret in your past that’s holding you back from your true potential. Voices have spoken to me in the night, from the sky, from the stars, from the unknowable darkness.’
‘That’s crazy.’ She tried to keep the fear out of her eyes. She wouldn’t be the one to give anything away.
He paused, looked up to the heavens, and then breathed in deeply, his eyes slitting as he leaned in close to her.
‘I’ll have to say it then. To bring the unreal to the plane of the real. You’ve killed someone, Caroline. Someone you loved.’
A chill rushed over her body. What had her father done? He’d seemed so earnest, so scared for his own well-being. Could he be that convincing a liar?
She struggled to keep her face a blank. She must never admit anything to this man.
‘I want to tell you that you are absolved of your guilt because you are so chosen. The universe grants some of us the power, Caroline, the power to pass judgment on others, the power to act. Join me in my faith and you can see that for you there is no guilt, no shame. Together, we can walk in the shadow and be protected from all things.’
He was stroking her hair. She felt a sudden confusion. Could he be telling the truth? Did he practice some kind of dark magic, some mysterious witchcraft that had revealed her secrets to him? Her father had sworn he hadn’t told anyone.
‘Caroline, do not deny me. I know that you feel what I feel. You are not like the others here –’ He waved a dismissive hand in the direction of the camp. ‘They are lowly, mere tramps wandering through life in a haze. My followers are no different. I believe I was directed to this camp for a reason. And that reason is you. You are the only thing that matters to me right now.’