Page 13

Chapter thirteen

The Forsaker

Zeke

S omething doesn’t feel right. What the fuck am I saying? Nothing feels right, and it hasn’t felt that way for weeks. There are too many greedy, powerful men with their hands in the same pot. All of them attempting to control a world that doesn’t belong to them. All of them desperately seeking to use my Snow for their nefarious deeds.

I keep my glance firmly on her, from the distance these assholes insist on. The guard to my left holds a gun firmly pressed into my back, in warning not to attempt to move, or cause a scene. Dinah stands there, mere feet away from me, but it might as well be miles, dressed in her finery, looking every inch like a princess of the Brotherhood, and a high-ranking wife. My wife. The one I have failed to protect, every single day that we have been married, despite my promises to do otherwise. I’m a fucking failure, and I know it. “Abe, does she look nervous to you?” I question the silent and stoic statue at my side, who refuses to acknowledge the woman we both love. The one who is trying to play it off, and failing miserably, that he doesn’t burn for her too. My frustration with him, and the way he’s behaving with Dinah is rising, and what little restraint and patience I have left is quickly evaporating. I get it; he’s furious that we walked into a trap. He’s upset that she was stubborn, and wouldn’t listen to reason when he voiced his objections, and both of us were tortured, and almost died as a result. So fucking what!

David and his cronies did that, not Dinah, not my beautiful Snow. Doesn’t he understand how horrible she feels right now, how she’s blaming herself every minute of the day for the situation we are currently facing? She hasn’t once attempted to thwart the responsibility of leading us into an ambush. Instead, she has tried to repeatedly apologize to the fucker, but he refuses to hear her out. He’s also declining to tell me what happened when I was unconscious. I know something was done to him, some heinous act, that has caused him to retreat into his own mind. I have my suspicions about what it is, but I want him to be the one to confess it to me, so I can wrap him in my arms and comfort him. Will the overbearing, stubborn oaf do that, however? Not a chance. I guess I shouldn’t bother to hold my fucking breath, knowing him.

Fuck, I love them both so much, that it feels like a substantial weight is bearing down on my chest, suffocating me one precious breath at a time. I don’t know how to mend what has fractured amongst them, and I’m terrified that one, or both of them, will ask me to make an impossible choice between them. There is no way that I can ever make that decision; it would be like ripping out my heart and soul, and asking me to continue to live. Impossible. “Don’t give a shit if she is. I don’t even know why they bothered to bring us here. They should have left us in our cage,” Abe replies with a groan, as he struggles with the crutch that is holding him up. He pretends he doesn’t care, but I see the glances he keeps directing Snow’s way from below lowered lashes, when he thinks no one is watching. He’s angry and hurt, but those emotions are wrapped up tightly in his love for her. As much as he wishes he could close off his heart to Dinah, it just doesn’t work that way, and in my opinion, he’s a fool for trying.

My eyes trail over the space’s stone walls, glowing tapered cream candles, gothic lancet windows, deep-embroidered tapestries hanging from the walls depicting works of saints I don’t believe existed, and the crest of the Brotherhood. Everywhere you look is a lavish sign of wealth and power. No expense is spared, so that all these assholes can feel like gods, playing with the lives of mere mortals. I was and am still one of them, despite my allegiance having shifted to my Snow. Perhaps we should all be wiped from the face of the earth, so it can heal and begin again.

“Let’s go, cunts, the procession is about to commence, and David wants you both out of sight and tucked away,” the asshole with the gun shoves me forward, and I almost lose my balance, my focus having ultimately returned to Dinah, and the blade David just handed her before walking away. I saw that look that crossed her beautiful features. For a moment there as she held the blade, I would guarantee that she thought about stabbing David with it. He noticed it too, and whatever threat he must have uttered to her had her staying her hand, but if her tight grip on the knife, and her fierce expression, is anything to go by, it won’t be long before she unleashes violence on someone. My money is on a few of the Brotherhood men taking their last breaths here before we depart, and I am not just talking about the phony Holy Father either. Dinah made sure we understood what was being demanded of her before we came here today, and although I disagree with her going through with it, there’s not much I can do with guns pointed at mine and Abe’s spines.

“You touch me again, and I’ll make you eat that fucking hand, bastard,” Abe grunts as he’s pushed forward by the guard behind him. They’re herding us out of the back area, and into the darkened alcoves on the side balconies, where we’ll be too far from Dinah to be of any assistance if anything goes wrong. My eyes trail over a man in a dark robe standing to the side in the shadows, intently focused on Dinah. I can’t get a good look at him, since the hood of his robe is too low, and I’m pretty sure his mask is in place. Something about him not only seems familiar but heinous. He’s giving off a vibe that I don’t like. Glancing at Abe, it seems he’s picked up on it too, based on the menacing look he’s directing at him. “Do we know who that is? Could it be a rebel?” I lean closer to Abe and question quietly, to avoid the guards overhearing our conversation.

“No idea, but he looks shifty as fuck,” Abe grunts but doesn’t remove his gaze from the man. “Do you think he’s here to hurt Snow?” Warning bells are ringing in my head, as further trepidation fills me. There are so many enemies just waiting for an opportunity to hurt my wife. How the fuck am I going to keep her safe? How am I going to protect all of us, and also get Sammy back? That is, if he’s even still alive, after all the weeks as a guest of my father’s. I have my doubts that he’s still breathing, despite what that asshole David professes.

“He’ll need to get in line,” Abe gruffs as he pries his eyes away, and bares his teeth at the fucker with the death wish, who keeps shoving him. He tightens his hold on the metal crutch and, without warning, swings backward, getting the guard in the jaw, and forcing him to take a few hasty steps away from him. A look of pure evil glee graces Abe’s face, and just for this brief moment, it feels like we are transported back to when life was simpler. When it was just the two of us, and we had no plans to attempt to overthrow the Brotherhood, and weren’t both insanely in love with a serial killer, hell-bent on revenge. “Keep that up, and I’ll put a hole in the back of your skull,” the guard glowers, but Abe just laughs in his face. “Yeah? Then what will you tell your precious leader, David? Huh, cunt? He won’t be too impressed to have lost one of his hostages, and good luck getting Dinah to follow any more orders if we die. She’ll carve out your heart and have it for dinner.”

“ Damn right, she will.“ I chuckle as I’m forced into the secluded alcove, and Abe is propelled to join me. The chanting begins from the choir overhead, and the sound causes the hair on my arms to rise. Fuck, I hate this shit. I detest these ceremonies, with all their pomp and fake glory. No one here with half a brain cell truly believes in what the Brotherhood is selling. If you’re a high-ranking member of the Brotherhood, it isn’t your devotion to God or a religion that has brought you here; it’s greed, plain and simple. If there was indeed a benevolent being somewhere up there looking down at the world, and what has been wrought in his or her name, they have undoubtedly abandoned humanity. How else do you explain the Brotherhood being able to trick the world’s populace into blindly following them? Abe elbows me and nods his head to the end of the aisle, where the Holy Father’s garish procession has begun. I can feel my skin crawling, and the buzzing beginning in my ears. One look at Abe tells me he’s feeling the same symptoms; his jaw is so tight that he’s likely to crack all his teeth. Now that Dinah has explained that it’s all a hallucinogenic gas that they pump inside of whatever location the Holy Father is in, and the use of special vibrations and frequencies, it explains so much about the otherworldly effect the Holy Father has on us. He has no special God-given powers, he’s a charlatan, deceiving the masses with advanced parlor tricks. He’s the shitty version of the old world’s Wizard of Oz .

“I hate this fucking shit. I wish we could stab this fucker’s eyes out, and be done with this nonsense. Messenger of God, my ass, “ Abe swears, as he shakes his head to try to alleviate the effects we are both experiencing. David the cunt refused Snow’s request that we be given the same antidote that she and David’s men were taking. He wants us to be controllable and pliable, so he can use us as collateral to control Dinah. The first chance I get, I’m going to snap that fucker’s neck, piss in his mouth, and set him aflame for all the misery he’s caused. What a fucking glorious sight that will be. I might even let Abe fuck his skull, just to add a further perverse and disrespectful edge, to the way we send David off to meet the devil. I’m so busy enjoying the image of David bleeding, and with a mouth full of Abe’s cum, that I miss the cunt’s entrance, and before I know it, we are all being forced to bow, as the Holy Father walks down the aisle in his elaborate robes and feathered mask. My head spins, and nausea rises inside of me, mixed with pain at forcing my body forward, and the way the action is pulling on my healing flesh. Abe’s grunt of pain reaches my ears, and I thread my fingers through his in silent support, as our robes disguise the action.

“May the Lord bless and praise you. The Brotherhood, honor you and keep you sacred.” The fake Holy Father reaches the pulpit, and raises his hands like some benevolent prophet about to impart a blessing on the masses. The men and women around us immediately reply to his address, and both Abe and I keep silent, rolling our eyes at each other and squeezing our fingers together, to keep us present and lessen the effects of the drugs. Stupid sheep.

“Sacred sons and daughters, may the Lord our God keep you safe and holy. May his abundance spring forth from your loins and fill our desolate world with new champions of our faith. May your offerings to God please him and fill his ranks, and may you bring faith to the Godless. Sacred daughters, I implore you to do the will of our Lord, and submit to your husbands, fathers, and brothers so that the world may be cleansed from your feminine sin. The evil within you can be purged only through obedience and sacrifice. The righteous men of the Brotherhood are here to save your weak and tainted souls.” The Holy Father drones on, and the effects of the gas rise, until his words seem to float on the air in a soothing, overpowering sensation, and I find myself feeling numb. I tighten my fists, digging my short nails into my flesh until I feel the sting of them breaking the skin, and it helps push away some of the fogginess. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Abe using the crutch, to press it hard into his booted foot, to try to remain alert. We can’t allow ourselves to be manipulated like the rest of these assholes. We have to try to get free and get out of here with Dinah.

“In honor of our sacred duty, I bring forth one of our own sacred wives and daughters. A child of my own blood, who will bring onwards many sons from her blessed union with Brother Ezekiel Rothesay, to fill God’s army against the evil that still inhabits this earth. For the Lord said, be fruitful, daughter, and rid yourself of the unholy sin of womanhood, and profess to your God that you will obey him in all things.” The Holy Father’s voice rises with showmanship. “Guess they weren’t too worried about how it would look to the masses that her husband wasn’t at her side, huh?” Abe growls as he slams the bottom of the clutch down on his other foot.

I shake my head, and try to clear the fog that is starting to build with a buzzing in my skull. I wondered about that myself, but I’m guessing that David weighed the risks, and thought it was too precarious to have me by Dinah’s side. No one seems to have batted an eyelash at Dinah’s missing husband, who is not presently escorting her to receive this blessing, as would be customary. My breath stalls in my throat as she steps forward, the long hem of her dark blue gown encrusted with rare sapphires, pearls, and gold threads, and the blade no doubt hidden within their thick depths. Her delicate mask is firmly in place now, disguising her features from the vermin watching her every move. Even with the effects of the gas, I notice various Brotherhood men watching her with ravenous hunger. They covet what is mine, not only the power of her name and wealth, but the beauty beneath it all. Little do they know the danger that they all face. Dinah is beautiful but deadly, and she won’t hesitate even for a moment to slit all their throats.

I watch with pride as she curtsies with elegance and poise, her back rod straight and her head lowered, in reverence to the fool playing the Holy Father. She’s so convincing as the meek, obedient Sacred Daughter, that no one will see it coming when she plunges that blade into his heart. “Rise, Sacred Daughter, and allow the Brotherhood to honor your dedication to the absolution of sin.” The interloper’s voice rings out into the hushed space, as Snow rises and delicately climbs the step, a slight flash of metal visibly pressed against her skirt, where she must be hiding the blade. I force my attention away from her, and scan the crowd, to see if anyone else noticed, but no one seems any the wiser. “She’s really putting on a show. Who knew Atasi was such an accomplished actress,” Abe scoffs next to me with disdain, but when I glance from the corner of my eye in his direction, he, too, is drinking in the sight of her, even though his jaw is locked tight. Fucking fool.

“Blessed be the fruit that shall come forth from this Sacred Daughter, who has willingly come to the Lord to be saved.” The Holy Father’s hand rises to Dinah’s mask, and as he recites the words that will seal his fate, a quick strike of Dinah’s hand impales the sharp blade into his chest. I observe as he stumbles forward a step, looking for the whole audience as if he’s whispering sweet words of encouragement to my wife. A sharp gasp from next to me has me looking away from Dinah and the Holy Father, and up at the wall above their heads. In blood-red large letters, words begin to appear out of thin air.

A crash is heard at the pulpit, and voices are raised in alarm; my eyes track when those in the first rows realize that all is not well, and the Holy Father falls backward, his robes spread in every direction, exposing his hairy legs and crotch. Dinah strolls forward until she is almost straddling his struggling, bleeding body. The bloody blade is grasped tightly in her hand. “He is no God, but a false prophet! He did not save this world but instead enslaved it, and condemned it to hell! I will rid this world of all the men who seek to destroy it, for I am the Unholy Ghost!” She grasps the mask and rips it off the Holy Father, exposing his features to all those in attendance, some who are scrambling to run to the back of the room, and others who are attempting to make their way closer to Dinah. Anxiety ripples through me, where the fuck are David’s men? Shouldn’t they be closing ranks around her, to protect her from the angry mob that is about to descend on her?

“Fuck, why aren’t they moving to protect her?!” Abe shouts his thoughts in line with mine. Abe moves to rush out of the alcove, but the assholes with the guns attempt to stop him. “Get the fuck out of my way, or I’ll smash your fucking heads in!” He growls, as he raises the crutch menacingly. I can’t take my eyes off Dinah, despite what is happening here behind me. Her hand rises again with the blade, and just as she goes to plunge it once more, a shot rings out, loud and clear, and slams into her body, forcing her to jerk and release her hold on the knife, which goes ricocheting across the marble floor, that is quickly turning crimson with the Holy Father’s blood. “SNOW! FUCK, DINAH, GET OUT OF THERE NOW!”

Dinah rips her mask over her head and throws it away from her, her furious features searching out where the shot came from. That’s when I get a glimpse of the shooter, and my jaw hangs open in complete shock. No, it’s not possible; this has to be a mirage, or some fucking effect of the drugs they’re pumping into the space. “Is that fucking Sammy? Did he just shoot Atasi?” Abe rages next to me. Oh God, this is real. Fuck.

Sammy looks devastating. His face is a patchwork of molten bruises, cuts, and disheveled facial hair; his dark blond hair is ragged and greasy, and the dark clothes he’s wearing are disguised by the thick Brotherhood robe he’s placed over them, but has now been thrown over his shoulder with his movements. He looks so thin and gaunt, a walking skeleton, his cheekbones hollowed and protruding, on his usually rugged features, as if they have been starving him. There’s an unhinged look on his face, filled with fury and wrath. It’s as if he’s seeing a monster before his eyes, and not the woman that he loves, the woman he swore to protect with his very life. He’s not our Sammy; he’s something else, something damaged and corrupted. “Hello, Nightstar. Surprised to see me, or maybe you forgot that I still existed.” Even his voice sounds wrong, as if a creature has invaded his body.

“NO! Fuck, Sammy!” I shout, and both Abe and I shove our bodies against the guards, giving them only two choices, move out of our way or shoot us, as we both scramble to reach Dinah. It’s utter chaos, with people fleeing for their lives, and David’s men rushing in to either contain the situation, or murder Dinah, now that she has completed her task. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let them kill my girl. What the fuck is the matter with Sammy? What has my father done to him?

“You get Atasi, I’ll go after Sammy. He has to be fucked in the head if he’s attempting to kill her,” Abe orders, as he pushes through bodies in our way and heads to the left, leaving me to go straight. I can’t see Dinah, with all the people attempting to get to safety between us. Sammy moves forward, holding the gun still clutched in his hand, with his arm extended toward Dinah. A look of sorrow mars his face briefly, but is quickly replaced by a menacing grin, stretching his bruised and bleeding lips, and forcing their cracks to reopen, and blood to trickle down his chin. He’s a fucking mess; more than that, he’s a walking, beaten corpse. My father has done a number on him all these weeks that he has remained in captivity. Sammy fires again, and the shot goes wide, just above Snow’s shoulder. She flinches and ducks down, finally realizing that the mirage she’s witnessing means her harm. “Sammy! What the fuck are you doing, asshole?” Abe’s loud voice is piercing, above the crowd of fleeing Brotherhood men, wives, and daughters.

Jesus fuck, is that blood? Did he actually shoot her? Fuck, I have to get to Dinah now, and get her to safety.