WnW 2.12

I kept my eyes and ears tuned to any sign of Aaron and Beth as I snuck into the field. The fires would hopefully hold their attention. 

All was quiet. Not even the sound of crickets or frogs broke the silent tension, like they knew something I didn’t.

On my way, I tried to communicate. You better have some answers. Moving around the stalks of wheat was slow going, but at least I wouldn’t be spotted. As long as I could maintain an awareness of my general direction, I would make it to the chapel.

My hands shook and I panted heavily despite moving slowly and carefully. My anxiety? Or hers? There was no getting used to this connection. I was considering ripping the flower out again when I heard footsteps and went still.

The two sets of footsteps stopped around the same time.

“I see the fire has gotten worse,” Beth said.

“I don’t know what those imbeciles are doin’, but it’s gotten out of control,” Aaron muttered darkly. “I’ve called the higher ups, bought us some time before the emergency vehicles start showin’ up. You sure the boy hasn’t tried anything?”

“He was still inside a minute ago. Julie just fell asleep. Give her a bit of rest.”

Good timing.

“Our witch, has she started getting ideas?” Aaron asked.

“She’s busy with the Tree. I don’t think she would have the time to do this without us noticing.”

“So it was Jason,” Aaron mused.

“I told you, that rat was talking to him in the garage. It’s his fault.”

Aaron made an amused sound. “I’m almost impressed. The boy somehow gave my son some balls.”

“What are we going to do?” Beth asked, worried.

“The plan hasn’t changed. It’s God’s favour that we stepped up the plan, none of this will matter once we’ve completed the Tree.”

They fell silent and I entertained the idea of ambushing them. They wouldn’t see me coming in the dark. I shook my head, marveling at how stupid I was to even be considering it. There was something strange about the night air, maybe it was just the smoke, but it felt like it was full of energy, vibrating against my skin, calling me to act. I wanted so badly to hit them, to release this ever building tension inside of me.

Then I realized why the two had gone quiet. There was a quiet roar in the distance, the sound of a group of people shouting, getting closer. The neighbours were coming.

A worry struck a nerve in me and I decided to head back to the yard. I needed to make sure Jason hadn’t been caught.

Aaron and Beth moved in parallel to me. I made sure not to make too much noise against the wheat. When I got close enough to see out between the stalks, I stopped and waited.

I started to see beams of light swaying in the night sky ahead. Figures began emerging from the darkness, flashlights silhouetted them from behind as they approached. The disorienting contrast of moving light and shadow made it hard to make out exactly how many were there. A large group approached the house. I saw some figures hang back, lurking in the shadows of the barn. Twenty, maybe thirty? Was Jason among them?

Light from the house lit the faces of the group. Angry faces. Women and men, young and old. A women was missing an ear and her scalp was bare. A young man had a stump for an arm. Nightmarish grimaces of pain. Flashes of things even more unnatural, I couldn’t be sure if it was just the unreliable light. Teeth that protruded much too far. Hair that looked more like spines. An eye that glowed as if it held some fire within it. These are the donors. Aaron’s congregation of believers. There were some that were badly burned while attempting to fight the fires. Their clothes seemed to fuse with their skin in places and while they should have been immobilized by the pain, they carried forward, their eyes carrying the fires with them.

One of them stepped forward. It was the neighbour who had come to complain about someone stealing apples the night before, Bill. His face was flushed and it shook with anger.

“Aaron, why didn’t you help us?” he asked loudly.

Aaron took his time responding, walking up the steps of the porch so he could look out over the crowd. “I only just noticed. I was workin’ in the field,” he said calmly.

Bill stomped his foot and spat into the dirt. “Shouldn’t the pastor be helpin’ those in need?”

Aaron spoke loudly so everyone could hear him. “If y’all were intent on saving your land, you wouldn’t be on my property. What do you need from me?”

“Tell ‘em, Jake!” Bill shouted.

A younger man piped up, “Saw your boy Jason running out of our garden.”

Aaron paused, and I could see he was composing his thoughts. “So he was playin’ with some matches,” he said indifferently.

“Veron!” Bill roared, spittle flying from his mouth.

Another man pushed through the crowd and tossed a red jerry can onto the ground between the crowd and Aaron. It made an empty sound when it hit the dirt.

“Ah,” Aaron responded softly. “I understand. Don’t worry. He will be punished ‘til he’s pissin’ blood.”

“Four! Four different fuckin’ households, Aaron. This was calculated. Enough that I’m havin’ trouble imaginin’ a young boy would do this on his own.”

Aaron’s tone grew menacing, “I don’t like what you’re implying’. Who was it that gave you these years of good harvest? Even through early winter and hail storms? Who gave you the strength to overcome any man who dared threaten your family? Think before you speak.”

Bill stood firm, empowered by his rage. “Someone has to pay Aaron, and we’ve paid enough.”

Aaron straightened up and addressed the crowd in a booming voice, “You believe this? All of you? You have witnessed me donate, over and over to our cause. I have spilt more of my own blood than any of you have your own!”

Some people in the crowd shuffled their feet. Their anger remained, but they were less sure of the proper target.

“We are so close to becoming something greater! Listen to me. The Tree. I have the last donation that will complete it.”

“When?” someone in the mob cried out. “Give us a day!”

“Tonight!” Aaron said, raising his hands. “You will all meet with God.”

A sound chilled me to my core. A pitiful wail from tiny lungs. Julie was crying.

“Aaron!” Beth shrieked. She turned, scanning the direction that Julie was looking. Her wild expression was lit by orange light as she locked eyes with me. 

She dropped Julie and slammed her hands together. Like she was crushing an insect.

The impact tore through my body, deep in my chest. My legs gave out and I toppled without a sound. For a moment the pain was so overwhelming I couldn’t think, but then everything went dull, like my brain had been overloaded and had turned off all sensations at once. 

Oh. It was terribly quiet. Even though Aaron shouted and the crowd seemed to all be talking at once, it was all too quiet inside of me. My heart wasn’t beating.

I was grabbed under my armpits and dragged forward, my head lolling without the strength to raise it. I could feel flower girl’s emotions stronger than ever, her fear rushing through me, keeping me conscious.

Julie’s screams echoed distantly.

I was dropped onto my back in front of the house. Aaron planted his boot on my chest, but I didn’t feel it as I gazed up at the starless sky.

“The sacrifice presents itself!” Aaron shouted. “It is time! Bring-”

I felt a final message from the flower girl. She was sorry.

Then the world distorted. Something pulsed through us, slamming into Aaron, halting his words, at the same time it rippled through everyone present. It was like every fiber of my being was a string forcibly plucked, made to buzz with a burning, resonant rage. People shouted and screamed, necks pulling back, veins and tendons pulsating. I joined them, the raw sound tearing out from my throat, hatred seared through me, branding my mind with white-hot feeling.

The sky seemed to expand, like curtains pulling back, an unseen stage revealed. Two objects hung in space above our heads, distant and yet too large. We were all bathed in a carmine glow. Expressions twisted, eyes not seeing familiar faces next to them, but enemies.

My heart kicked and I rose to my feet. Aaron, transfixed by the things in the sky, was knocked off balance.

I needed to act. I needed release.

Julie’s cries had stopped. She lay on the hard wood of the porch, face twisted up in anger. I looked up from her.

Beth and I locked our gaze on each other for the second time.

Her fingers spread, palms faced each other. Dark crimson reflected in Beth’s eyes.

I didn’t think, I just felt. My arm extended, too far to reach, and felt something tug beneath my skin. White streaks of twisting bone exploded out. Antlers weaving, interlocking, and branching out with deadly points.

Like an arc of lightning, the branches sank into Beth, skewering her. A hand pinned to the porch railing, one spire piercing her stomach, another her mouth. She quivered for a moment. The anger never left her eyes even as she went still.