Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [323]
What good were words, anyway, at a time like this? What power could they wield now as the six of them remained trapped in this one-room cabin? Now that they were surrounded by woods filled with FBI and ATF agents? With Satan’s warriors descending upon them, what words could protect them from the anticipated explosion of bullets? The enemy had come. It was just as Father had predicted, but they’d need more than words to stop them. Words were just plain bullshit! He didn’t care if God heard his thoughts. What more could God do to him now?
Eric brought the barrel of the gun to rest against his cheek, its cool metal soothing and reassuring.
Kill or be killed.
Yes, those were words he understood. Those words he could still believe in. He leaned his head back and let the plaster crumble into his hair, the pieces reminding him again of insects, of head lice burrowing into his greasy scalp. He closed his eyes and wished he could shut off his mind. Why was it so damned quiet? What the hell were they doing out there? He held his breath and listened.
Water dripped from the pump in the corner. Somewhere a clock ticked off the seconds. Outside a branch scraped against the roof. Above his head, a crisp fall breeze streamed in through the cracked window, bringing with it the scent of pine needles and the sound of dry leaves skittering across the ground like the rattle of bones in a cardboard box.
It’s all that’s left. Just a box of bones.
Bones and an old gray T-shirt, Justin’s T-shirt. That was all that was left of his brother. Father had given him the box and told him Justin hadn’t been strong enough. That his faith hadn’t been strong enough. That this is what happened when you didn’t believe.
Eric couldn’t shake the image of those white bones, picked clean by wild animals. He couldn’t stand the thought of it, bears or coyotes—or maybe both—growling and fighting over the ripped flesh. How could he endure the guilt? Why had he allowed it? Justin had come to the compound, attempting to save him, to convince him to leave, and what had Eric done in return? He should have never allowed Father’s initiation ritual to take place. He should have escaped while he and Justin had a chance. Now what chance was there? And all he had of his younger brother was a cardboard box of bones. The memory brought a shiver down his back. He jerked it off, opening his eyes to see if anyone had noticed, but found only darkness swallowing the insides of the cabin.
“What’s happening?” a voice screeched out.
Eric jumped to his feet, crouching low, swinging the rifle into position. In the shadows he could see the robotic jerks of the others, the panic clicking out in a metallic rhythm as they swung their own weapons into place.
“David, what’s going on?” the voice asked again, this time softer and accompanied by a crackle of static.
Eric allowed himself to breathe and slid back down the wall, while he watched David crawl to the two-way radio across the room.
“We’re still here,” David whispered. “They’ve got us—”
“No wait,” the voice interrupted. “Mary should be joining you in fifteen minutes.”
There was a pause. Eric wondered if any of the others found Father’s code words as absurd. Or for that matter, wouldn’t anyone listening in find the words strange and outrageous? Yet without hesitation, he heard David turn the knobs, changing the radio’s frequency to channel 15.
The room grew silent again. Eric could see the others positioning themselves closer to the radio, anxiously awaiting instructions or perhaps some divine intervention. David seemed to be waiting, too. Eric wished he could see David’s face. Was he as frightened as the rest of them? Or would he continue to play out his part as the brave leader of this botched mission?
“David,” the radio voice crackled, channel 15’s frequency not as clear.
“We’re here, Father,” David answered, the quiver unmistakable, and Eric’s stomach took a dive. If David was afraid, then things were worse than any of them realized.
“What’s the situation?