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Chapter 34

W ren jumped up when the shower of rubble subsided. “It’s them. They’ve come back.”

“Shit!” I scrambled up, then nearly fell again because I felt so weak. Was it really carbon monoxide, like Wren said? I did still feel out of it. Out of it and panicked out of my mind. Not a winning combination. “Do you think Emmaline got the police?”

“No idea, but from the sound of it, they’ve blown open the entrance, and we don’t have time to find out.” She was looking around. “This goddamn tunnel only goes in one direction. Come on, give me your hand. We’ve got to go!”

She hauled me up as another explosion rocked the tunnel.

“We have to go down. To the lower level,” Wren said. “There’s supposed to be a side tunnel, a way that leads to the surface. But if we can’t find that, at least there might be a place to hide.”

I thought for a minute, begging my brain to penetrate the fog that had wrapped itself around it. “They jumped.”

Wren eyed me, doubtful.

“The women and children that were trapped here. That must’ve been how the one girl found her way out. We can do it, too. With rain and stuff, the water table should have risen in the past one hundred and sixty years, so the pool might be a lot deeper.”

Now we heard the roar of some kind of heavy construction equipment, working back at the entrance.

“They’ve got a fucking Bobcat,” Wren said in disbelief.

There was another tooth-rattling boom, and we sprang to life, running the few yards to the ledge that hung over the pool. Panting, we looked down. Now that I was seeing it again, I realized it had to be over a thirty-foot drop to the water. High enough that it made me dizzy. High enough that if the pool was too shallow, we’d be in a bad way.

The sound of faint voices rang out behind us—“Come on!” “Let’s go!” “This way!”—and we exchanged terrified looks.

“There’s no other way,” I said.

“Agreed. But slide, don’t jump,” Wren said.

We scooted over the edge on our bellies, hung by our fingertips, then attempted a sort of combo repelling-slipping maneuver until we finally were close enough to the pool of dark water to drop safely into it.

I held my breath and hit the surface hard, going deep, deeper than I’d expected. The water was freezing, and for the few moments I was completely submerged, all my stunned brain could picture was the bones of all those women and children that lay at the bottom, just beneath me. When at last I broke the surface, I gasped in a combination of shock and fear and extreme cold and paddled furiously toward the dim light.

“Billie!”

My name echoed against the rock walls of the cavern. I looked around and saw Wren already on the other side, drenched, on a small outcropping of rock on the far edge of the pool. I swam toward her, and she hauled me out of the water up onto the rock. I was shivering but the freezing water had woken me up. My head felt clear, the fear reduced to a manageable level.

Wren peered into my face. “You okay?”

I nodded, breathing hard. “Do you see the way out, the passage—?”

“Hey!” came a voice, shouting from the top of the cliff down at us.

We lifted our gaze up the sheer rock wall, and I felt my heart go still. They were there, standing in one long formidable row, shining their lanterns down at us. The Minettes—Dixie, Major, and Toby—Ox Dalzell, and Jamie Cleburne.

“Gang’s all here,” muttered Wren. Except the wheelchair-bound James Sr. He was probably still posted back at my house, ready to sound the alarm call if he saw anyone heading toward the mine.

“Got yourself into a pickle, looks like.” Ox, of course, sounding like he’d just happened upon us at a barbeque.

“Where’s my daughter?” I yelled up at Jamie. “What have you done with her?”

Jamie gazed down at me, a mild expression on his face. “She’s safe, Billie. Still at Alice’s where you left her. We would never hurt her.”

“You expect me to believe that?” I retorted. “You murdered Isaac Inman, an officer of the law. You murdered my husband and dumped his body in your lake!” I was seething, breathing fire.

“Pipe down, Billie,” snapped Dixie Minette. “Your daughter’s fine. And you have no right to judge us. We do what we have to do for Juliana. You should understand that by now. Juliana comes first.”

Jamie put out an arm to silence her. “Billie, you don’t understand what we have here in Juliana. It’s not the kind of thing you could find where you’re from. Up there, it’s all about the individual. You look out for number one and make sure nobody infringes on your precious rights. But here, we take care of each other. We live, we bleed, we die for each other.” His voice turned gentle. “That’s why you came to us. Because you were looking for that same sense of belonging. You were longing for it.”

“I never asked to be a part of your sick, twisted secret society!” I screamed at him. “I did not agree to the rules. And I never will. I want out, Dixie. Whatever I have to do, I want out today.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Billie,” Dixie said smoothly. “You should know that by now. It may be too late for Miss Street there—she’s proven she can’t be trusted with Juliana’s secrets—but you, Billie, you’re different.”

I didn’t know what she was talking about. What made me so different?

“You have a chance to redeem yourself,” she went on. “A chance to take part in Juliana’s beautiful future. To become a part of one of the original founding families.”

My expression hardened, but my legs felt weak. What was she saying?

“Billie. History is always two stories—the story they teach in the classroom, and the real one. You may think you know our story, the one about the gold mine and the women and children, but you truly know only a fraction of what really happened.”

Major stepped forward, closer to the edge. His face was creased with concern. With the fire of a true believer’s fever.

“Miss Billie,” he said, his voice pleading,“ just listen to Dixie and Jamie. We love you so much. And we love Mere, too. What happened with Peter—” He hesitated, looking anguished. “Well, it’s sad, but—”

“Hush, Major,” Dixie snapped. “Billie doesn’t need us to sugarcoat it. She’s a big girl. We can tell her the truth.”

I was trembling. The truth. It was going to be something horrible, something so ghastly, but there was no stopping it now. Everyone was looking at Jamie, and in the lantern light, his face looked skeletal and grim.

“It was a divine accident,” he said gravely. “The elders only understood the true power of what they’d done after the war was over. When the rest of the South was suffering through the abuses of Reconstruction, Juliana was doing just fine. Business was thriving, farms were producing bumper crops. The sawmill brought in business from all over the state and the citizens grew wealthy. Alfred Minette knew why. He’d tried to tell them before, but it was only then that the other elders truly believed. Those women and children, the ones they’d buried in the mine, they had been a sacrifice. An offering for the well-being of our town . . . made to the protector of our town. And she rewarded them.”

“The protector of their town?” I asked incredulously.

“Juliana Minette.” Jamie’s voice was low and reverent. “Firstborn of Alfred Minette. Protector of our town. Angel who watches over us. Good Juliana. Gentle Juliana . . .”

“ Gentle, Gentle Juliana. ” The others repeated in a chilling monotone. Their voices overlapped each other and echoed through the walls over the cavern. I thought of the town grace. The way they all kissed their Juliana charms like subservient acolytes. A wave of horror convulsed me. Jamie had actually been telling the truth when he’d said these people worshipped Juliana.

They literally worshipped a dead girl.

“After that the founders faithfully taught their families about our patron,” Jamie continued. “How she watched over them. How her benevolent wings kept them covered. How she brought the rainfall and the sun. How she brought forth the harvest and caused the life of this town to grow. Every generation of Minette, Dalzell, and Cleburne taught the one after it. That Juliana watched over us . . . but that, sometimes, a sacrifice was needed to prove our devotion.”

“ I will freely sacrifice unto thee. I will praise thy name, O Lord, for it is good,” Mayor Dixie said.

“You people are crazy,” Wren said.

“You shut your mouth, you dumb bitch,” Toby snapped.

Jamie sent a condescending smile in Wren’s direction. “Any crazier than the person who prays that God will help him pick the right lottery numbers? Any crazier than the guy who gives up caffeine or beer for Lent and thinks that will help him sell more insurance policies at work?” He smirked. “You poor, oblivious child . . . you have no idea what our three families did for you. We carried you—year after year, generation after generation. We took responsibility for your well-being, and we bore that burden so you could sleep at night. So you could live your carefree lives and build your wealth and grow your families.”

“How many people did you kill?” Wren shouted at him. “I want a number.”

He shrugged. “It’s not relevant. And it’s none of your business.”

“George Davenport?” Wren asked.

“He drove himself crazy,” he said. “We didn’t have to do a thing.”

“What about Emma, your wife?” I asked.

“She’s alive and well,” Jamie said mildly. “But I’m assuming you’re referring to the remains at the mill. That’s our Canadian interloper, I’m afraid. Madge Beatty.”

Wren let out a muffled cry.

“As you know, the virus was a challenge, and the town was struggling. Ms. Beatty was asking a lot of questions she shouldn’t have been. Like you, Wren.”

“So you murdered her,” Wren said.

“We call it an offering,” he corrected in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Well, it didn’t work, did it?” Wren spat. “Your offering. You still had to do the Initiative. You still had to bribe people to come live in your precious, pathetic town.”

The group shared amused looks, and Jamie laughed. “We didn’t start the Initiative to help Juliana.” He focused on me now, his face gone still and soft. “Juliana’s original three families were in danger of dying out. Toby here was single. Ox was, too, and didn’t think he could trust his daughters with the truth. And my wife had moved back to D.C. We started the Initiative to ensure the old guard would endure.”

They all turned to look at me.

I swallowed, my throat cracked and dry, as the horrific truth hit me. “You targeted me,” I said in a voice I didn’t recognize.

Jamie nodded. “I had never forgotten seeing you years before in New York. The way you were with the customers. With the staff. You were so beautiful. So capable. Such a leader . I knew you were the one for me, Billie. The one meant to help carry on the Cleburne name.”

I was trembling now, uncontrollably. I wanted to scream, but the scream was locked inside me.

“It wasn’t ideal,” he went on, “you already being married, but I couldn’t deny how I felt. I took it to the council”—he sent the others an appreciative look—“and they were kind enough to give their blessing and allow you and Peter to buy the Dalzell-Davenport house. When we actually met that day outside the old general store . . .” He seemed to search for the right words. “. . . you were so perfect. Everything I’d dreamed of. And you felt it, too, I could tell. You wanted me just as much as I wanted you.”

I shook my head. It was all I could do.

I was the reason Peter was dead.

It was my fault.

“It felt like destiny when you and Peter started to have problems. And then when I saw him the morning he left you, getting a coffee in the bakery, he blamed me. He almost took a swing at me, if you can believe it. The therapist turned out to be a tough guy.” Jamie chuckled. “It was so easy, Billie, to follow him to the outskirts of town. To run his car off the road, take care of him then hide the body. A quick text from his phone to you, and it was done.”

I was shaking now, sobbing. “So . . . what, Jamie? You were just going to make me—make Peter’s daughter—think that he had gone back to New York and didn’t ever want to see us again? You were going let us suffer like that? You were going to let a child suffer like that?”

“You didn’t love him the way you should’ve, Billie. I think you would’ve accepted that he was gone. You would’ve let him go.”

“I would’ve never accepted it!” I screamed.

Jamie looked consternated. “Oh, Billie, no. Please don’t cry. I swear to you, everything’s going to work out. I’m going to give you the life you’ve always wanted. You’ll have the love and loyalty and support of a community. You and Mere will finally have a family.”

I wiped my tears away. “I had a family.”

“You didn’t love Peter, Billie. You told me you didn’t know him anymore.”

“That didn’t mean I didn’t want him anymore!” I screamed, my throat raw. “It didn’t mean I wanted him dead!”

Mayor Dixie stepped forward. “Billie, calm down. You have a choice to make here. Accept Jamie’s offer of marriage—”

I made a sound, something between a scoff and a sob.

“—or we’ll deal with you. You have to understand, Billie—” She drew herself up. “Juliana Minette was not just a girl. She is the spirit of this town. She is this town. And this town is us. Don’t you see what I’m trying to tell you? We are all intertwined. It’s the divine mystery, a beautiful gift. A gift you’re being offered—”

“Okay, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up,” Wren barked, at the same time pulling a gun, sleek and black, out of the waistband of her leggings. She pointed it at Mayor Dixie.

“You all just want power, plain and simple,” Wren said. “And you are so deluded that you think killing people brings you some kind of good luck? You should all be put away!”

“You believe that gun gives you power, don’t you?” Dixie asked.

“Yeah, I do.”

“But it doesn’t,” Dixie said. “Power is so much bigger than a weapon you hold in your hand. We know that because we have found real power. Power that’s not of this earth. That’s not contained. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds —”

“Let us go, Dixie,” Wren interrupted. “Or I start pulling this trigger.”

But would it even work? She’d just been in the water.

“We will not,” Mayor Dixie said simply. “We cannot. You’ve set yourself against us and therefore against Juliana. She sees and she knows.”

Wren lifted the gun and fired it. A deafening crack rang out in the contained, airless space. Instinctively, I hit the ground. So did the figures standing on the cliff above us. Apparently, the gun worked just fine.

“Wren, no!” I shouted.

But she ignored me and, moving down the row, kept taking expert shots at each figure like they were ducks at a carnival booth firing range. I was screaming at her to stop, frozen between wanting to tackle her and thinking I should not be standing here witnessing cold-blooded murder. In seconds, the ledge was empty, save for two dark forms, Mayor Dixie and Ox, who lay crumpled on the ground. Toby, Jamie, and Major were nowhere to be seen.

Wren lowered the gun. “Follow me,” she said in a voice like ice.

I didn’t move. My legs felt like water. “Jesus, Wren. Where did you get a gun?”

“This is Georgia. Easier than getting French fries at a drive-thru.” She stuck the gun in her waistband. “Billie, I need you to focus. We’ve got to go.”

“How?” I felt dazed. Lost.

“Madge said there was a passage around here somewhere. Remember? It’s how her ancestor got out. We need to find it. You with me?”

I inhaled. It was a long shot, but we didn’t have a choice. Any second, Jamie and Toby, both of them young and strong enough to give chase, would be heading down the same way we had. Not only that, they had eyes on Mere and access to her, too, if that’s what they wanted. I’d unwittingly given these people my daughter. All Wren and I had was Madge’s hand-me-down family tale.

I glanced up at the cliff’s edge. All the townspeople had vanished. Either shot or holed somewhere formulating a new plan. We had no choice but to go deeper into the mine and try to find the way out. I had to find Mere. That was all that mattered. That was what I lived for.

“I’m with you,” I said.