October Skies (45 page)

The campfire crackled and spat, and around them there was quiet save for the gentle hiss of shifting trees.

His remote, disengaged manner unsettled them. Right now they needed to know their First Elder was still empowered with certainty, righteousness . . . touched by the Almighty.

Mr Stolz was the first to speak up and break the silence. ‘William? What are we to do?’

Another spoke. ‘Night is almost upon us and they’re still there.’

The flickering light from their campfire reflected in the deep sockets of his eyes.

‘I entered the woods and prayed for guidance,’ he said. ‘I was ready to die for you, for God to come to me, to take my life and spare yours.’ A tear glistened on his sallow cheek. ‘I would do that for you, because I love you all like my children.’

His voice faltered. ‘I thought we had been forsaken, abandoned by Him, abandoned by His angel, Nephi, and left alone in this empty place with those outsiders. I thought we’d failed him. I feared He had judged us through Eric and Saul and found us wanting. But then it came out of the trees. It came to me, large and powerful.’

He took a deep breath, and smiled at them all. ‘I was with the angel!’

Across the assembled crowd, he could hear the sharp intake of breath, whispered ‘amens’ and the keening tears of relief and joy from both men and women.

‘God is with us. God has a mission for us still.’

One of the women dropped to her knees and cried with relief.

‘There will be no vengeance wrought upon us tonight. We’ll not face Eric’s fate, nor Saul’s, nor Dorothy’s.’

‘Thank you, Lord,’ Mr Hollander bellowed.

‘He asks of us one thing. To flush away those others across from us. They must be gone. And when what needs to be done here is done, we can finally begin work on God’s beautiful message. Remember this well, because tonight will be the night the first true faith of our Lord is born, and the apostasy of all the false faiths will be at an end.’

Several voices cried out, and a feverish sound of lips and tongues at prayer spread across his people, like the roll and hiss of a wave across a shingle beach. He allowed them time to pray and give thanks before continuing. There was need for that now, to show God their humble gratitude. When he could hear the concluding mutterings of ‘amen’ uttered from the gathering gloom, he spoke once more.

‘The angel confirmed what I feared. We have allowed devils to gather around us like jackals. They may look like people, they may walk and talk like people, they may bleed just like people, but they are nothing more than an evil deception.’

He shook his head. ‘The Devil nearly fooled us with them, didn’t he? With their fair skins, little ones resembling sweet, innocent children - looking so much like we do. But all along the Devil was mocking us with his clues. The dark-skinned family, the Negro woman, the savages from the woods. The Devil was laughing at our stupidity, showing his presence amongst them and mocking God!’

‘I heard say . . . that the white men over there have been sharing their wives with the savages!’ called out Mr Larkin.

Several women gasped.

Preston nodded. ‘I fear it might be true, Jed. I too have glimpsed things at night over there; gatherings around the fire, the noise of cloven feet, the chattering voices of evil.’

An uneasy murmur spread amongst them.

‘I have seen . . .’ Preston lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper that carried loudly across the gathering. ‘I have seen the curved horns of the Devil emerge from amidst their fire, his head that of a goat, turning towards us, staring across the way at us . . . challenging us!’

‘Oh Lord, please . . . please be with us!’ someone cried.

Preston clamped his eyes shut and clasped his hands together. ‘Pray now with me!’ his voice commanded deafeningly. ‘Pray with me now!’

They chorused his words.

‘Oh, Lord, forgive us our weaknesses. We see now how we have let you down. We see now that those of us who died - that was your warning. That you are prepared to spare the rest of us, we are eternally grateful. That you are prepared to let us prove ourselves to you this night, we are eternally grateful. That we will be your first true followers of the true word of God, we shall be eternally grateful. Tonight, we make amends. Tonight, as you ask of us, so we shall obey! Now, we will purge this place. Amen.’

‘Amen,’ a hundred voices rumbled.

Preston unclasped and lowered his hands, breathing deeply, sending tendrils of vapour out through his nose. ‘Gentlemen, gather your guns. Mothers, wives, sons and daughters, gather what tools you can find. Tonight we have to cleanse this place of poison. Make it a sacred place, so that Nephi can come in from those trees out there, and finally be with us.’

‘Amen,’ several of them chorused together.

‘Amen,’ he replied. He shook his head and lowered his voice, tempering it with regret. ‘It is grim work He asks of us, but necessary work. None of them can remain here alive.’

He looked up at them. ‘You understand what God is instructing us to do?’

‘To kill them,’ a woman called out.

‘Yes, that’s correct. To kill all those agents of Satan. Go now, get your guns and return here!’

Preston’s people rose swiftly and disbanded in different directions; a hustle of activity, of boots crunching on compacted snow.

 

Rose glanced across at him as she overtook a sluggish container truck on the interstate.

‘I still can’t believe Sean’s dead.’

‘Yeah. Apparently he was stabbed by some care-in-the-community type while he was walking his dog.’

‘That’s awful!’ she said, shaking her head. ‘My God, poor Sean.’ She hadn’t seen him in the last year and a half since he’d worked with them on preparing to air Uncommon People. He’d almost been another member of the team, providing them with guidance on what they could get away with airing and what they couldn’t.

‘Nowhere’s safe in London these days, is it?’

‘Sometimes feels that way. If it isn’t someone who should be on meds, it’s a pissed-off hoodie carrying a shank. It depresses the hell out of me.’

She looked across at him. ‘But that’s so creepy, isn’t it?’

‘What?’

‘You met him, then, a couple of days later, he’s dead.’

He puffed air. ‘Creepy. And bloody awful. I still can’t quite believe it, either.’ His fingers drummed on the dashboard.

They sat in silence for a while, both uncertain what to say next.

‘This’ll sound shitty, Rose, but it needs to be said.’

‘What?’

‘I was relying on Sean to fast-track a deal. That’s not going to happen now.’

‘You’re right, it does sound shitty.’

‘Well, sorry. That’s the way it is. As I’m sure you’ve worked out, we’re going to have to pull out of this story for now and head back home.’

‘I suspected as much,’ she replied. ‘How much is left in the bank account?’

‘It’s not good. Just under four thousand.’

‘Great.’

‘I’ll get my agent to pull in some work. We’ll do some crappy corporate stuff, and then head back out here again in a few months’ time. How does that sound?’

‘I don’t suppose we’ve got much choice, have we? Bills to pay.’

‘Bills to pay,’ he echoed quietly.

Rose overtook a slow-moving lumber-laden truck uphill.

‘After I’ve met this guy, we’ll see if Grace can take us out one more time, then we’ll need to check out of the motel and head back.’

‘What guy?’

‘What?’ Julian looked at her. ‘You got the mail?’

She shook her head.

‘Oh, it’s no big deal. Some guy who has an interest in Preston. I hit upon his website. We’ve exchanged a couple of emails. Since I was already coming back, I thought I’d try and hook up with him.’

‘Where?’

‘Actually, he’s coming to Blue Valley.’

‘What?’

Julian shrugged. ‘He’s keen, I guess.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Arnold Zuckerman. Anyway, I’m sure I emailed you that.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Communication isn’t exactly your strong suit.’

‘Damn. I could’ve sworn.’

‘Maybe I missed it. Anyway, this Arnold . . . who is he?’

Julian laughed. ‘I’m imagining a real hardcore historical anorak. But it looks like he’s got some bread and butter on Preston’s background. It’ll be useful. Best we grab all the material we can in the time we’ve got left.’

‘Are you sure he’s not another journo?’

Julian shrugged. ‘Who’s to know? He doesn’t come across as such, just a passionate amateur.’

‘He’s coming to Blue Valley to meet with you?’

‘He offered. Said it wasn’t a problem.’

‘Well, don’t stay up too late. I already arranged with Grace that she’ll take us in again tomorrow morning. She’s meeting us at the park’s camp, early.’

‘Oh, well done. How early?’

‘Seven.’

‘Bugger,’ Julian grumbled. ‘I could’ve done with a lie-in. Can’t we start off a little later?’

‘Let’s not forget she’s doing us the favour, Jules.’

‘Fair point.’

They drove on in silence for a while, long enough that Rose suspected from Julian’s awkward shuffling that he was on the cusp of raising a particular, awkward subject.

‘How’s the good Dr Griffith?’ she asked.

Julian smiled. ‘Looking well, doing well. He sends his best; he thinks highly of you.’

‘As he should.’

‘Actually,’ Julian uttered, pulling out his cell phone, ‘I tried him earlier, but he’s not answering.’ He checked his log. ‘Not called back.’

‘Was he interested in the Preston story?’

‘Very. Perhaps there’s something we can do with him. That’s a follow-up meeting we can have when we get back.’

‘He’s putting some money in?’

Julian made a face. ‘Not sure . . . maybe. More likely he’d want in on a book of some sort.’

‘Great,’ Rose wilted. ‘Well, that’s me cut out of the loop, then.’

He turned to her. ‘Not at all, Rose, not at all. We discovered this as a team. Anything that comes from it, we share. I promise you that.’

He paused, and she knew he was putting together some thoughts.

‘There’s too much we’ve shared, too much between us, that I’d cut you out like that.’

Too much between us? She wondered what Julian meant by that. They both spoke at the same time.

‘Julian, I—’

‘Did we nearly—?’

She felt her cheeks flush in the deafening silence that followed.

Julian shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Something almost happened between us, or am I mis-remembering and making a fool of myself?’

‘No,’ she snapped quickly, ‘nothing almost happened. We had a few beers, and we were buzzed on the story, just having a laugh . . . as we always do.’

‘Yeah.’ He nodded, looking out of the window at the passing peaks, carpeted with a veil of dark green firs and dotted here and there with cedars and oaks turning a rich, burning, autumn gold against the October sky.

Was there a hint of disappointment in his voice? Or was she reaching?

That wasn’t disappointment . . . that was relief.

She knew Julian was the kind of guy who didn’t like anyone getting too close to him. That awkward little moment, back in the diner last week, had most probably frightened him back inside his reinforced shell. Nearly four years working together, building a trust, a tight friendship, a robust partnership . . . and she’d nearly blown it all because, for a moment, she’d let her guard down and shown him how she felt.

She sighed. It had been a stupid moment, a stupid impulse, and she ground her teeth, angry with herself.

 

Ben tumbled over a root and fell to his knees in the snow. ‘Shit!’ he cursed, quickly picking himself up and pressing on.