Judah’s eyes widened. “You lie,” he snarled, spitting as his frustration poured from his tense lips. “You carry the serpent’s tongue! You are weak and have been possessed!”
“Wake up!” I roared. Judah stepped back. “Wake the fuck up! You ain’t no prophet! And we know you haven’t received one damn revelation from God, you lying sack of shit!” Judah’s face paled, and I felt the guards tense around me. They stared at Judah with worried frowns.
“You’re a joke, brother.” I went on. “We all are. And we all deserve to rot in hell for eternity for what we’ve done! We deserve to die for dragging innocent people down with us!” I sucked in a sharp breath. “They are coming, Judah. The Hangmen will be here in less than two hours and they will kill us all . . . all of us that run this sick fucking place of hell! We need to get the innocent out now. If there’s one thing we can do to try and rectify what we’ve done, it’s spare the innocent lives and finally set them free. They don’t deserve this! By meeting the Hangmen in a war, you’re only sealing their fates. They’ll die . . . they will all be slaughtered like pigs!”
Judah practically shook with anger, but I could see his brain was working overtime. I just wasn’t sure what the fuck he was thinking. Judah stepped back, then back again, and said, “You are right about one thing. And so wrong about another.”
A strange calmness suddenly came over my twin. That scared me more than his anger. Judah was never calm. He was reactive, explosive. This wasn’t fucking right. The way he was acting wasn’t fucking right!
“Judah,” I said coldly, but Brother Luke and the other guards moved their guns closer to my body.
Judah held up his hands, his eyes crazed. “You are wrong. I am the prophet! I feel it in my veins. I can feel God within me! I am the truth, the way and the light! The messiah of this time!” I closed my eyes in exasperation. Because I knew Judah truly believed that.
He was too far gone. His delusion was too strong to make him see sense.
“But you were also so right.” My eyes snapped open at his dark tone. Judah clicked his fingers at his guards and pointed to the cell.
“NO,” I shouted, trying to fight off the guards. But the blunt end of a gun slammed into my temple, causing me to see stars. Another swiped me across the face, and one in the ribs. I swung out my arms, trying to fight free. But before I knew it, the cell door was opened and I was pushed inside. I scrambled on my knees and slammed my shoulder into the steel bars; they didn’t budge.
“Judah!” I screamed, but my brother just stood there, watching me with a haunting, calm stare. “JUDAH!”
He stepped forward and met my eyes. “You were right about our people’s fates being sealed, brother. God told me, many weeks ago, what to do if the devil’s men prevailed. I always had another plan. God spoke to me, and I did as he told me. I prepared us well, just in case. The Lord would never let me—his shining light—ever fail. And now the moment has arrived.”
I froze, energy draining from me as he began to walk away. “What do you mean by that? What have you got prepared?” I asked to his retreating back, panic lacing my words. His guards followed. “Judah! What do you fucking mean by that?”
But Judah and the guards simply walked away. I sat back on the hard floor, looking at my friends. “What is he doing? What the fuck is he doing? The Hangmen will be here soon. They’ll open fire. They’ll kill everyone.”
My friends said nothing; they were as clueless as I. But as minutes passed in silence, I could a feel a shift in the air. An ominous feeling built and built in my stomach until it became a tidal wave of dread. I couldn’t get Judah’s too-calm eyes from my head. I had never seen that from him before. Something had snapped in him.
He was going to do something terrible . . . I just knew it.
The crackling sounds of the speakers coming to life echoed around the empty plain. Judah’s voice came powering through, and my heart dropped to the floor. “People of The Order! Drop what you are doing and gather in the Great Plain. Move quickly! Gather all the children; send word to your friends. I repeat, all are to gather in the Great Plain. I have received a new revelation from the Lord. And we must hurry, our very salvation depends on it!” Tinny prayer music began drifting from the speakers.
In seconds, people began filtering into the grassy field. They were on the other side of the land from us. I tried to shout, to get their attention, but my voice could not be heard over the music. My hand gripped onto the bars as I watched the guards and the elders of the commune approach the plain, dragging carts in their wake. My eyes narrowed. The carts were loaded with large barrels.
Stephen, Ruth, Solomon and Samson joined me at the gates. “What the hell are they?” I asked, as more carts were wheeled in. More barrels, then boxes of something that I couldn’t see.
“I have no idea,” Stephen said. “They look like barrels of wine.”
“He is holding a communion?” Samson asked. “He is breaking bread and wine?”
I shook my head. I had no idea why he would hold a communion with the Hangmen attack so close.
Dozens upon dozens of people began to fill the vast space. The guards swarmed around them like vultures, shouting at them to sit down. Children began crying; fear, like a perfect storm, swept among the masses. The guards aimed their guns at the people who showed too much panic or questioned what was happening.
I didn’t know how much time passed. It felt like only minutes before the entire commune was sitting on the grass before us. The heat was stifling. Babies cried and children wailed. The adults were praying in earnest, rocking back and forth, as the guards, dressed all in black, fired warning shots into the air. The fear was palpable . . . and all I could do was sit and watch.
Judah walked to the platform that was permanently in the field. He held a microphone in his hand. As before, a creepy stillness fell over him . . . then he began to preach . . .
“People of The Order,” Judah began. He held a hand up in the air, and like they always did, the people fell silent. It was eerie to watch as they all stared at him, hanging on his every word. Their gazes were fixed upon him . . . and I saw it. I saw, in full technicolor, the absolute power he had over them that I had never owned. His tone of voice was magnetizing, and the way his eyes ran over each and every row of believers seemed to connect with them all on a personal level.