The White Carnation (33 page)

The bolt slid back, admitting Mother Kate and the child dressed in gray who'd brought her juice.

“As you see, your juice wasn't drugged,” Mother Kate said. “This is Annie. It's her task to attend to your daily needs. She'll empty your chamber pot as needed and refill your ewer with fresh water. She's learning to be a good filly in the hopes she'll be chosen as mare one day. Unless you wish to see her whipped, don't speak to her.”

“Beating children is wrong,” Faye said.

“Then you don't want to force me to do so, do you? It's time for your shower. When you get back, I'll explain how you'll spend your day.”

“I thought I was spending it in here,” Faye said.

“You are, but ‘idle hands are the devil's workshop.' Now, follow me.”

Mother Kate opened the door to a large room resembling a gym locker room. On one side there were ten open showers. On the other side, a table held a robe and a towel. Next to the table was a chair. Mother Kate sat.

“You have five minutes,” she said.

“You're just going to sit there and watch me?” Faye asked, affronted by the lack of common courtesy.

“I am. Put aside false modesty. Normally, a foursome does everything together. Now, you have four minutes left,” she said, indicating the water coming from one showerhead.

Reluctantly, Faye removed the nightgown and hurried under the water, which was lukewarm at best. Shivering slightly, she washed herself quickly. Using the herbal-scented shampoo provided, she managed to wash and rinse her hair before the water stopped.
So much for long, hot showers.

“Put these on as well.” Mother Kate handed her a pair of booties similar to those worn in hospital ORs. Faye cinched the belt of the housecoat tightly, noting it was sewn to the back to prevent her from taking the belt and using it as a weapon.

Following Mother Kate back to her cell, Faye noted that the doors to the other cells were open. “Where are the others?” she asked, unable to quell her curiosity.

“You ask too many questions. Mares are silent unless told otherwise. It's one of our most sacred rules. I suggest you abide by it.”

Faye stuck her tongue out at Mother Kate's back.

Inside the stall, she gaped at the clothing laid out on the bed. There was a floor-length, long-sleeved, pale-yellow dress, pantaloons that tied at the waist, a chemise, a pair of long, cotton stockings held up by ribbons, and flat, leather slippers.

“You expect me to wear this?” Faye indicated the clothes. “It's July, for God's sake. I'll cook. Can I at least have my own underwear?”

“Mind your mouth. We've burned those ‘devil's weeds.' Dress quickly so that Annie may bring you your breakfast. She has other duties to attend to.”

“Do I have to wear that, too?” Faye indicated a mob cap lying next to the other garments.

“It's necessary to cover your head until your hair grows in. Cutting a woman's hair is punishment for vanity. Since you've arrived this way, the Prophet is allowing you this concession so that you may look the others in the eye instead of in shame. Given the fact you'll not leave your stall today, the choice to wear it or not is yours.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She spent the rest of her day in solitary confinement completing the tasks Mother Kate gave her. Prior to becoming a journalist, Faye had toyed with the idea of being a fashion designer and had learned to sew, a skill which came in handy when Mother Kate informed her she'd have to make herself additional sets of clothes and a nightgown. The thought that the nightgown might one day be her burial dress nauseated her. If they'd expected this to be a punishment, they were mistaken. She'd always enjoyed sewing and using the treadle machine was a novelty. Mother Kate was surprised when she'd finished the task by mid-afternoon and informed Faye she could start her knitting and read her Bible; neither task appealed to her.

The punishment had been endless hours of being confined to the stall, which was surprisingly cooler than she'd expected. Annie brought her meals, a step above the bread and water she'd expected, but after spending every waking moment with Rob these past few weeks, she missed him terribly, and the loneliness crushed her.

No one returned to the stalls on either side of her, although it was evening and the other women were back in their cells. In front of her was the New Horizon manifesto she'd been ordered to read. Not only was it dry as the desert, it was all anti-government survivalist propaganda mixed with religious fanaticism. There were corrupt passages of the Bible thrown in for good measure. She'd almost burst out laughing once, but the memory of Mother Kate's crop had kept her quiet. If talking was against the rules, laughing at them had to be, too.

When it came time for lights out, Faye was relieved the day was over. Without argument, she drank the warm milk Annie brought her and got undressed and into bed. She was glad the fear that had haunted her each night seemed to be gone. What was there to be afraid of now? The monster had a face and had claimed her. Knowing her enemy empowered her. What she needed was to formulate an escape plan, and to do that, she needed to get out of this cell tomorrow. Mary was here, and she had to get them both away from this place, but what of the others? Could she leave women and children prisoners here? Mother Kate had said they were leaving in five days, and she'd wasted one of them cooped up in her prison. She couldn't waste another.

Settling into the blankets, she missed the feel of Rob's warm body against hers. She rubbed her hand over her as yet flat stomach. The child growing in there had to be Rob's; it just had to be. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she silently cried herself to sleep.

• • •

The bell woke her again as it had the previous morning. Annie entered the cell with her juice and vitamins, and Faye took them quickly. Let them assume she'd been cowed into submission. She knew the truth, and that was all that mattered.

Mother Kate entered the stall. “I see you've decided to behave,” she said.

“Yes, Mother,” Faye answered as the infamous book had instructed.

“I'll speak of this only once. It's strictly forbidden to discuss the outside world. Normally, this isn't a problem because most of the mares come from sister groups of believers or are lost sheep happy to have been selected for procreating with the Chosen. The Prophet allowed James to select his mares outside the family. He permitted him to bring Mary here, knowing you and she had met in your prior lives. Should I catch either of you discussing the before time, the punishment will be severe for both parties involved. Twenty lashes—and the fact that Mary is within a month of birthing her child won't spare her. Pain and punishment are good for the soul. Now, come, it's time to shower.”

Faye followed Mother Kate out of the stall, struggling to keep her temper, but the crop in the woman's hands and the thought it could be inflicted on Mary kept her in control. The other women stood in line, and Faye took her place at the end. They entered the shower area. Two other women dressed in black were there, and all three sat on chairs at the back of the room out of the range of the water, but well able to see if anyone tried to talk to one another or pass a note.

Kate followed the lead of the others, scanning the room to find Mary. She grinned when she saw her, but the smile died on her face, and her heart went out to her friend.

Mary's long red hair had been dyed an unflattering shade of mouse-brown. Despite her larger breasts and distended abdomen, her friend had lost weight, and it showed in her gaunt cheeks. She kept her head down, and Faye feared they'd broken her. The water came on with a blast of cold followed by the hot water she'd missed yesterday. Washing quickly, she shampooed and rinsed just as the water stopped. Hurrying to the table, she dried herself, avoiding eye contact with the others—another rule in the damn book—and put on her robe and slippers. She resumed her position at the end of the line and followed the others to her stall.

She dressed quickly in the garments she'd worn the previous day, making sure to add the mob cap to her outfit, and sat quietly waiting for someone to come and take her to breakfast with the others since she wasn't supposed to be confined to her stall today. She feared they'd forgotten her until the bolt slid out of the wall and Annie indicated she should follow her.

The communal area resembled a school cafeteria. There were two long tables designed to hold four on each side. On a raised platform, there was another smaller table with three chairs, no doubt for the women in black who'd supervised the showers.

Annie led her to one of the tables already occupied by seven women, including Mary. None of them acknowledged her arrival. Faye frowned as a man she hadn't noticed until now attached a shackle and four-foot chain to her ankle and then bolted her fetter to a ring on the floor. She'd expected it, since there had been signs of restraints on the Harvester's victims.

“If you don't tug on it, you'll scarcely notice your hobble,” Mother Kate said. “Sit, mares, and eat.”

Is she the only damn one allowed to speak here?

Annie and other women brought out cereal similar to what she'd been given the previous day, in addition to a soft-boiled egg, toast, juice, and peppermint tea. She'd give her eyeteeth for a cup of strong, black coffee, even if it had to be decaf because of the baby.

As soon as the food was served, one of the other women in black began to read from the manifesto. The attempted brainwashing left her reeling. Hearing and reading this drivel over and over could easily influence a weak mind. She thought of little Annie, a child hoping to be a mare someday. That was wrong on so many different levels.

As Faye ate, she glanced around the table and quickly lowered her eyes again. All of the others, including Mary, had their heads bowed, focused on their food. Mother Kate walked back and forth, her crop in her hand, ready to apply it to anyone who wasn't complying. Pain, humiliation, and subjugation were the
modus operandi
of the cult.

“The Bible says a woman must obey her husband in all things. She must never argue with him. His needs and those of his seed come above hers always. She is the reason man was cast out of Eden and deserves no more than to be treated like the animal she is. Giving birth through pain and agony is her punishment. In the Prophet's wisdom, he has made life easy for mares, asking little of them but strong, healthy children.”

Yeah, like that's the truth. Nobody made Adam eat the apple—he had free will.
In captivity, discretion was the better part of valor. Faye kept her mouth shut. Antagonizing Mother wouldn't help her escape this man-made hell.

The indoctrination went on for a couple of hours until Annie and the other servants arrived with muffins and milk midmorning. The fact that food seemed plentiful made her wonder why Mary had lost so much weight. Had she been ill? Some women didn't tolerate pregnancy well. Hadn't Mary thought she had cancer or a tumor? Maybe she'd neglected her health in the early stages.

She'd just finished her muffin when the man who'd shackled her to the floor came and released her. Faye stood when the others did and was disappointed when she was tied to the woman beside her in a group of four. At least Mary was one of them. Would she be able to finally talk to her friend or would the human buffer between them forbid it? Annie brought her a wide-brimmed bonnet that reminded her of the one worn by her Holly Hobbie doll years ago.

Following the other foursome, Faye entered a fenced yard, much like a corral used to exercise horses. The first thing she noted were the mountains on the horizon—was she still in the Adirondacks? These mountains seemed higher, more rugged. So where was she? The second thing that gave her pause was the sight of armed men on the rooftops. She might not be fettered at night, but men in guns and a hostile environment made escape, even by herself, all but impossible. How would she manage with a pregnant woman? And what about the missing children?

“Mares, this is your exercise period. Walk. You may converse for thirty minutes. Remember to stay within the topics allowed. Enjoy your freedom.” Mother went back into the stable.

“Freedom? She calls this freedom?” Faye asked the woman shackled on her right, between herself and Mary. “So what are we allowed to talk about?”

“Anything but the before time,” said one of the women in the other foursome.

“The before time?”

“Before we were chosen,” Mary said. Her voice sounded humbled, but the gleam in her eye as she looked at Faye's face fully for the first time told Faye that Mary was no more enamored of this crap than she was.

Faye smiled. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Better than I did when I got here,” Mary said. “I was having problems with nausea, and then you know me—compliance wasn't high on my list. My ass has had better days. I've learned my lesson.” But the gleam in her eye gave lie to her words.

“I'll bet you have.”

The woman next to Mary interrupted. “We can exchange names,” she said. “I'm Ruth. Mother admonished me to help you two stay away from the forbidden topics, and you're awfully close to them right now. Mary, surely you don't want our wife lashed.”

“
Our
wife?”

“I'm Amalie,” said the woman in yellow in the other foursome. You're James's wife, and as such, you're the figurehead. These are your handmaidens, and you're their wife.”

“Seriously? My name is Faye, but you're wrong. I'm not anyone's wife.” She turned to the woman beside her. “You don't look pregnant,” she said, recognizing Ruth Hamilton, the suspected fourth victim.

“I'm not. I gave birth to twin boys in February, and I'm still nursing. I'll be taken to the dormitory to feed them shortly. Most of the time, I have to pump my milk, but I get to spend three hours with your sons each day.”