Jesus Christ, what’s he doing here? My mind whirred as I re-joined Elodie who was looking at me quizzically.
“Do you know Brother Lincoln?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Only in passing. I don’t know much more than his name,” I half lied, with a shrug. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it for fear that it would get one, or both, of us in trouble.
“I forget sometimes that people had lives outside of here,” she replied, with a small smile.
Curiosity gnawed at me, and I couldn’t stop the words from falling from my lips, “Did anyone else come in with him?”
“Sorry?” she asked, casting me an enquiring glance.
“Brother Lincoln,” I elaborated, “did he come here with anyone else?”
“Oh, I’m not sure,” she shrugged, though she looked uncomfortable as she said it. How could she not be sure? Either he did or didn’t, it wasn’t a difficult answer. There was obviously something lingering beneath the surface, but I didn’t dig. There were too many eyes around, all discreetly but intimidatingly watching me. I sat beside her at the table she’d opted for. There were places laid out at the table. The plates were adorned with a bread roll and a corn cob, with a glass of water set beside them.
“We eat modestly, but we eat three times a day and there’s always something here,” Elodie remarked, obviously catching the look of distaste on my face. “I’ve not been hungry since I’ve been here. I’m grateful to Father Adam for that.”
I wanted to ask if the wonderful Father Adam personally baked every roll and farmed every crop, but I bit my tongue. I was well aware that I was currently the subject of observation. I couldn’t wait to get out of this batshit community, but in the mean time I’d have to bide my time. I had to learn routines, exit routes and opportunities, and while I was doing that I’d have to be on my best behaviour.

I couldn’t stop myself from looking over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of Lincoln. I couldn’t believe he was here, but why was he here alone? My mind wandered back to the sabotaged camp. Had these people done that? Were they responsible for the blood stain that had marked the floor with its resentment? What had happened to everyone else? I wondered if Lincoln knew the answers to these question, and if I’d ever get to ask him.
“After dinner, we go back to our room for an hour. Then someone will retrieve us for worship,” Elodie mentioned, breaking through my thoughts.
“Worship?” I repeated, trying not to grimace. The very thought of feeding into some psycho’s delusion of his connection to the heavens or whatever was nauseating.
“It’s easy enough, you can just copy me,” Elodie reassured me, mistaking my displeasure for nervousness.
I managed to give her a sickly smile without rolling my eyes, “Thanks, Sister.”
If she picked up on my revulsion to the whole thing, she didn’t call me out on it.
“Eat,” she urged with a smile, picking up her own corn. I reluctantly picked up the glass of water and inspected it carefully. Who knows if it’s safe to consume any of this stuff… Elodie picked up on my hesitation and watched me, expectantly. The paranoia of offending the watchful eyes around me pressured me into bringing the glass to my lips. I let a tiny sip of water pass into my mouth where it rested on my tongue as I meaninglessly tried to assess it for poison. I swallowed it down with great difficulty and immediately relaxed as people went back to their own food. I picked at the bread roll, my hunger successfully wearing down my resistance. It physically pained me to admit that it was actually quite nice bread. Father Adam had that going for him, at least. I begrudgingly finished everything that was on my plate. I was already unhappy, no use in starving myself too. I was also keen to get to Lincoln before we were separated again. If I could just get him alone, perhaps he could fill me in on what had happened back at their camp. I kept an eye on him throughout dinner, until I saw him standing to leave. Excusing myself from Elodie, I hurried over to him, following him until I was sure we were out of earshot.

“Lincoln,” I hissed, catching his attention. He whirled around, his eyes widening at the sight of me. He looked around before grabbing my arm and dragging me along the corridor, eventually tucking us into a little alcove.
“What the fuck, Marina?” he demanded, “Are you trying to get us into trouble?”
“Lincoln,” I pressed on, ignoring him. “Where is everyone? I saw the camp, it was wrecked. Was it these guys?”
He scrunched his face up and looked away from me, “It’s not a good idea to ask questions here.”
“Are you kidding me?” I scoffed in disbelief. “You too?”
He gave me a scathing look, “I’ve been here a lot longer than you, perhaps you should take my advice.”
“Lincoln,” I persisted, “What happened? Where’s Coralee?”
“She was too stupid to comply,” he snapped, effectively silencing me.
“What happened to her?” I asked, after a few seconds.
“She never left the camp alive,” he replied, curtly. His words left a sickening swirling in my stomach.
“And Holden? Jesse? The rest of them?” I uttered, my lip trembling.
“Some ran and got out alive, others didn’t. A few of us came here but I’m the only one left,” he answered, his tone flat. His face was twisted as though he was in physical pain just talking about it.
“What happened to the others that came here?” I asked, quietly, not really wanting to hear the answer.
He stared into my eyes, “The same thing that will happen to us if we get caught talking like this.” I was about to ask what exactly he meant, but he turned on his heel.
“Goodbye, Sister Marina,” he called over his shoulder, before marching away. I waited until he was out of sight, before making my way back into the hall.
“There you are,” Elodie exclaimed in relief, “I thought you’d left me, Sister Marina.”

The hour after dinner was spent in our room. Elodie sat at the desk, producing ink and a quill.
“What century are we living in again?” I asked, my eyebrow raised. She giggled, her wild eyes adding to the ‘crazy’ vibe that hung around her.
“Father Adam likes a simple life,” she explained, her fingers delicately extracting paper from the drawer. I watched her as she began etching dark words into the whiteness before her.
“What are you writing?” I asked, straining a little to see it.
She smiled, “I like to write poetry; and Father likes to read it so he allowed me to have something to write it down on. He’s really not so bad all of the time, Sister Marina.”
“You can keep him for yourself,” I replied, pulling a face. She smiled before turning back to her scribbling. Scribbling was a poor descriptor; her writing was beautiful, swirling and swooping like a swallow. It was amazing to watch something so orderly come from someone who looked like the visual definition of ‘dysfunctional’.
“Sister Marina, why don’t you just try and keep your head down here?” she advised me, as her hand looped and danced across the page. “It would make things easier, even if you’re not… involved.”
“This just isn’t my thing,” I shrugged. “Are we not allowed to just leave?”
It was her turn to shrug.
“No,” she answered.
“Don’t you think that’s a little odd?” I persisted, watching her as she abandoned her writing. “Have you ever wanted to leave?”
She pursed her lips, her eyes flickering to the door in caution.
“Of course I have,” she admitted, “but I’m more scared of what might happen if I got caught, and I don't mind it here really. Don’t you?”
“I could never stay here, I’d rather die,” I replied in a hushed tone.
“If I could get away unharmed, I’d be gone in a heartbeat,” she confessed, her eyes meeting mine, wide and unblinking. A thump at the door jolted us both, Elodie looking far too panicked for my liking. If there was ever an expression to give yourself away, it was the one on her face.
Sister Rosa appeared around the door again with a nod, “Worship in two minutes, Sisters.”
As soon as she’d disappeared, Elodie looked at me frightfully.
“Do you think she heard me?” she fretted, wringing her hands.
“No,” I reassured her, though not very convincingly. “No, I’m sure you’re fine.”

The tables and benches of the hall had been pushed to the walls, leaving an empty space in the centre. We assembled in the now bare hall, forming ourselves into two congregations, men and women. There were no children here, I noted, but by coincidence or design, I wasn’t sure. I stood in line next to Elodie and waited as the last of the followers appeared and lined themselves up. Lincoln didn’t look at me as he entered the hall and took his place. We really did look like a fucking cult, all lined up in our matching green bullshit clothes. The gentle whispers amongst the followers suddenly came to a hush as the madman himself took to a podium set up on the small stage before us.
“Brothers and Sisters,” his voice rang out, clear as a bell. “I welcome you all into my house, and bless each and every one of you that is present here tonight.”
This guy really was delusional. I couldn’t believe that he had such a gathering stood here, hanging onto his every word.
“I would like to thank Brother Eli, Sister Helen and Sister Isabelle for their contribution to our evening meal tonight, and I give thanks to Sister Rosa for her assistance in gathering us all here,” he smiled warmly at the congregation before him. “Let us all thank them.”
The followers around me burst into a monotone chorus of “Thank you, Brothers and Sisters.”
I stood on the spot, trying not to give my distaste away. This place just got worse by the second.
Adam frowned, “Before we begin, I have an announcement to make.”

There was a quiet murmur of surprise among the people around me, and I heard Elodie give out a small gasp.
“It pains me to tell you that there is a traitor amongst our flock, Brothers and Sisters,” he stated, casting his eyes over the crowd. Elodie tensed up beside me. Perhaps Sister Rosa had heard her.
Father Adam addressed the crowd again, “As you know, the only thing worse than the Diseased Ones are those who live in sin; and to be accepted into this community only to disrespect it is most certainly a sin. Brothers, Sisters, do you wish to know of the wolf among us?”
There was a chorus of cheering, and I took the moment to glance over to Lincoln, who was looking just as pale as Elodie. Adam let his eyes drift this way and that over the crowd, clearly enjoying making a scene of it. Had Lincoln stood here and watched his friends suffer this fate? Is this why he was so cagey about it?
Adam smiled wickedly as his gaze fell upon the redhead beside me.
No, not Elodie…
“Sister Elodie,” he narrowed his eyes, his lip curling into a sneer. Elodie was almost jittering beside me. I could feel her fear, it wrapped around me, suffocating me and penetrating into my bones with an iciness.
“Yes, Father Adam?”
Her tone stopped my breath. I dared to let myself look over to her. The smile of adoration on her face for him made my blood run cold. She wasn’t nervous or scared, she was… excited.
“Tell us, who has betrayed our faith?” Father Adam asked her, tilting his head. I looked at her pleadingly. Oh god. I’m stupid, stupid girl. I can’t believe I let myself fall for her acting. She ignored me completely, still smiling up at him. Her demeanour had completely changed from the one I knew. She stood proudly now, her empty eyes sparkling with pure insanity.
“Sister Marina, Father,” she answered. As soon as the words had left her lips, I felt all eyes on me. My earlier brazenness and confidence had deserted me, leaving my hands balled into fists of dread and my lip trembling with terror.
This was it. This was the time to run. I had to try before I was punished, whatever that consisted of. My legs flew into action, and I bolted. It seemed as though everyone was ready for it though, as the giant that was Brother Marcus barred the doorway instantly and grabbed hold of me. I tried to breathe as he guided me to the front of the congregation and onto the stage, where he held me still.
“Sister Marina,” Adam addressed me, shaking his head. “I had such high hopes for you, but you couldn’t even hold out for one day.”
“Please,” I stuttered, trying not to let the tears roll down my face.
He turned to his following and looked at them with excitement, “Brothers and Sisters, whatever should we do with this wolf?”
I looked out into the crowd. Lincoln was staring back at me, unblinking, silently apologetic. I sent him a look, pleading for some kind of help, but he didn’t move. A chant began, quiet at first until it reached a crescendo as they all joined in.
“Burn her. Burn her. Burn her.”
Burn me? My eyes brimmed as fear pushed tears to the surface, but I tried not to let them fall.
“Brothers and Sisters,” Adam called out, warmly, hushing the chanting. “You have spoken.”
His gaze fell upon Elodie again, “Would you do the honours, Sister Elodie?”
“I would be thrilled to, Father,” she beamed, her eyes finding me with wicked glee, as she left the room.

When she returned, she carried a large bowl of hot coals. I winced away from it as she carried it past me, shooting me a delighted look. She set it down before Adam, and bowed as she stepped away from him.
“Thank you, Sister Elodie. Your work is always appreciated,” he nodded to her. She glowed with his praise and skittered off to take her place back in the congregation. I looked at Adam weakly as he adorned a pair of thick gloves.
“Brother Fraser, please assist Brother Marcus,” he commanded, another giant stepping out of the crowd. They took and arm each and forced me down onto my knees. The top four buttons of my dress were undone, exposing my décolletage. The tears were pouring from my eyes at this point and I was past caring. My breaths were coming out in little gasps from between my clenched teeth as I anticipated the pain that was coming. Father Adam pulled a metal rod that had been buried deep within the coals. The wire that emerged had been twisted into letters – TRAITOR. The words glowed red with the heat.
“Please,” I begged, trying to lean away from the iron he was brandishing. “Please, don’t.”
Adam curled his lip up, “You’ve already had the chance to prove yourself to me. Now, look at me, my fallen child.”
The two men gripped me in place as Adam neared me, one of them gripping my hair and pulling my head back so I was looking up at my castigator. There was a cacophony of delight rupturing from the crowd, the noise making my head spin.
“I’m sorry,” I cried out, as the heat emanating from the iron reached the exposed delicate skin. “I’m begging you.”
“What do we do with wolves?” Adam bellowed out, encouraging another chorus of chanting from his congregation. Their excitement encouraged him, and without warning he plunged the scorching metal into my skin. The pain spiked around my body, dragging a tortured scream from my lungs. The sizzling popping of blistering skin, the bitter smell of burning flesh, the fiery agony that enveloped my brain; it was too much. The air the left my lungs escaped in a guttural drawn-out grunt that was beyond my control. I felt everything get hazy as I lost consciousness.
When I came to, I was being held up on my feet. With my energy spent and my senses overwhelmed, my head lolled and all I could do was stare at my feet. The iron had been removed, but the searing, blinding pain remained, tearing through my chest making me cry out again. My breaths came in shuddering gasps as my brain tried to think its way through the fuzz.
“You,” I heard Adam bellow. “You are not welcome here.”
I tried to lift my head and see what was happening, but it was too heavy.
“If I’d have known this scum was associated with you, she wouldn’t even be on this earth anymore,” he continued sneeringly. “Just like the last one-”
He was halted by the distinct crack of a gun being cocked.
“Fucking say that again,” a distinct voice rang out, stumbling slightly over the ‘s’. I tried to focus my eyes and find him. I managed to lift my head just enough to catch sight of him.
Jimmy.
My head swam as the pain spiked again, and everything was shrouded in darkness once more.
This time I came to on the floor, my restraints having abandoned their post of holding me up. The racket of gunfire and screaming was echoing around the hall.
“Marina,” his voice cut through it and swirled around my mind, fuzzy but undeniably him. “Marina, look at me.”
I rolled my head towards his voice, and tried to speak, but my mouth wouldn’t work, only letting quiet sobs out. He cursed as he pulled me into him protectively.
“C’mon, you fuckers!” I could hear Johnny yelling above everyone else’s noise. He laughed loudly, another few rounds of fire exploding with his taunts. As I tried to pick my head up, it lolled backwards instead, but there he was. His concerned sapphires in all their glory, shining through the chaos at me.
“It’s you,” I managed to whisper, trying to pull his face into focus.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he whispered back, a tiny smile picking at the corners of his lips. “Just hold on for me Marina, please. Just hold on. I’m getting you out of here.”
He lifted me, pulling me into his chest closely as the noise levels in the hall were fading. The movement made me cry out, as the blazing sting shot through my nerves in protest. He winced, and gave me an apologetic look. I leant my head into his chest as he carried me away.

We’d gotten halfway across the hall when he stopped suddenly without warning.
“Do it,” his voice rang out, crisp and emotionless. I lifted my head to see what he was looking at. I blinked, trying to comprehend the scene before me.
Brian was stood at the front of the hall, with Adam in front of him. One hand rested at the back of Adam’s head, his fingers wound into the waved hair, pulling his head back deeply and exposing his neck. His other hand had a blade pressed firmly against Adam’s neck.
Adam smirked, “You’ll all go to hell for this. You could have had protection with me.”
Brian’s face twisted with unadulterated rage, “Let’s see your faith protect you from this.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, though it was clear in the now silence of the hall.
“This is for my wife.”
He ripped the serrated blade across Adam’s throat, at the same time ripping the smirk from his lips. Gurgling gasps choked out from his mouth as his eyes widened and blood spilled from his neck, staining his robe. Brian continued to hold him up, watching the crimson pour from Adam’s neck with a pained look on his face.
“Come on,” Jimmy said softly to me. “I’m taking you home.”

Notes

Damn, son. That was tense.