Souls Unfractured

  His face instantly turned to mine. “Brother? Are you okay?”

  I tapped my hand on his knee. “I’m well. I needed some space. The daily sermons, the meetings with the Klan, and the Hangmen issues, are tiring.”

  Judah nodded his head in understanding. He removed his arm from around my shoulder and rested it on his lap. “Now you mention it, you do seem to have become increasingly distant.”

  I ran a hand down my face, my stomach rolling with the fear that I was letting Judah down. Letting our people down. “I know. There’s just so much to do. Our people are many; having their faith and expectations of our salvation solely in my hands is a great burden.”

  Judah looked out over the gardens, his brown eyes drinking in the sight of our people working in the garden. I followed his gaze. A young boy, evidently feeling our attention, looked up. As soon as his gaze met mine, his head dipped and he bowed. My chest tightened as he turned back to his work, his head not rising again.

  As I studied the boy, I figured he must be about fifteen. All gangly limbs and awkward movements. I thought back to what I was doing at that age. Memories of Judah and I locked in a room for hours each day, learning scripture. Our scholar made sure we knew our scriptures by heart. Our uncle—Prophet David’s—picture on the wall was our only decoration. There was no playtime for us, no relaxation. Our faith had taught us that we must constantly work hard. Work hard, so when the day came for my ascension, we would be ready.

  There had been no human contact, save with each other and our scholar.

  There had been no love, but for that of each other. And there had been no one to confide in, to ask questions of, than each other.

  This life was all that I had known until I was sent on a mission to infiltrate the Hangmen. A mission from our Prophet. One that would secure our finances by taking their gun trade contacts from under their nose—to house and keep our people safe until the Day of Judgment fell upon us.

  Judah suddenly leaned in beside me and said in a low voice, “See how our followers worship you, brother? You may have doubts about who you are to us, but we do not. Was it not the same with Jesus? He too had doubts, but his disciples kept him strong. Just as I do for you.”

  Judah’s hand rested over mine. “Look at me, Cain.” I did. “You are meant for this. And I will do anything you ask of me. Anything.”

  Feeling the wound-up coil of tension loosen in my stomach, I squeezed Judah’s hand and sighed in relief. “I know, Judah. I am sure that it’s you, and you alone, who makes this calling bearable.”

  Judah smiled at my words, and we went back to gazing out over the gardens. Judah sat back, resting on his hands, and said, “I’ve just had contact from the Klan. They are putting our plan into action today. They’ve got word on a cash drop off, north of Georgetown, with one of their biggest buyers. It’s the perfect first target. The Klan will make it clear that anyone trading with the Hangmen is a potential target. Then, between us and the Klan’s Grand Wizards, we can reap their lost business.”

  Judah smiled wide and continued. “Just imagine what we could create for our people, Cain. With that money we can truly make New Zion a heaven on Earth. We can realize the prophecy. I am forever grateful that Governor Ayer’s son defected from the Klan and joined the Hangmen. It poured gasoline on the White Knights' already smoldering fire. With his personal vendetta against his son, and the MC for taking him in, I am convinced the Klan won’t fail.”

  I listened to Judah’s words, but said, “The Hangmen are strong, Judah. I spent five years pretending to be one of them. Their reach goes further than we or the Klan can contend with at the moment. To make us victors over the MC, we must wait. Everything will take time, like Governor Ayers said. We must play our cards appropriately. Not do anything to prod the fire. If they choose to attack now, then we would face another massacre like that of the old commune. We wouldn’t survive another attack.”

  Judah frowned, but then asserted, “This drop off attack from the Klan is a start. The war is coming for us all, whether we like it or not. And for that we need their gun trade. The Klan will come through on their gradual attacks, I am sure. Then our vision for our people will begin.”

  I could clearly picture this dream in my head, but when I thought of the Klan targeting the Hangmen at a drop off, drop offs that I used to run, I countered, “Innocent people will die in the attack. The Hangmen always conduct their business publically. Covert planning and organizing, but publically carrying the plans out, to ensure no one attacks them without being seen.”

  Judah’s happy expression fell. “This is a Holy War, Cain. Innocent lives will be claimed, but the Lord will save their souls. Their deaths should not be on your conscience. It is the way it must be.”

  I didn’t at first reply, but it didn’t sit well with me, so I warned, “You need to tell Landry to get his men to keep the number of innocent lives to a minimum. It cannot be traced back to us, if it makes the news. Our anonymity is the only thing that protects all. The sinners in the outside world will not understand our ways. We will be targeted and all that we have built will be destroyed.”

  Judah exhaled. “Done, brother. I’ll make the call myself.”

  We sat in silence. I could see Judah watching his consort. She glanced up and bowed at us both, but quickly went back to her duties. I frowned.

  “Your consort has been quiet of late, Judah.” Judah sat forward, coming into my line of sight. His expression showed he was not too concerned by this development.

  “She was my first consort. She had me solely to herself for a time, but now I have taken another. She is sulking over it.” He looked at me and shrugged. “She knows it is God’s will that we take many women under our guidance, that we school them to be obedient to men, and impregnate many to spread the message of our faith. She cannot move past her jealousy. If she continues to resist, I will make her move past it.”

  I looked to the consort clipping the herbs. “You have taken another? I didn’t know this.”

  Judah sighed. “I took her, but did not tell you. You do not take consorts as the prophet. I did not want you to be envious that I am free to take as many as I wish, without the need for marriage.”

  My stomach tightened as he spoke those words. “Judah, please don’t keep anything from me. Not you.”

  Placing his hand on the back of my head, he pulled me down to lay a kiss on my head. “No more. I swear.”

  Sitting back, I asked, “What is she like? This new consort?”

  The smile on Judah’s face was immediate. “She is incredible. I admit she’s gained my favor. She is obedient and willing to do anything for the Lord’s cause. She was introduced to me by Brother Luke. He ensures that our brothers here in New Zion are doing their part in the spiritual expansion of our women.”

  Judah sat up and looked to me. “In fact, there are some you should meet. You may like them. Brother Luke has videos for you to watch, of the women that are a cut above the rest, women that could become your wives. The one’s only worthy of the Prophet.”

  My eyebrows pulled down. “I am for the prophesized Cursed wife, Judah.”

  “Our uncle had many wives. Surely as long as you gain the Cursed’s hand eventually, this is all that matters. The scripture does not state that you were to have her and only her. You are always alone. It is a miserable existence, yet you could take so many females to stand by your side.”

  “Brother Judah?” A voice called from behind. When we turned, Brother Luke stood in the doorway. He bowed his head to me, then said to Judah, “Brother, I have received the call we have been waiting for.”

  Judah held up a hand signaling he would be coming. Just as he made to stand, he said, “I know you find this role stifling, but I am working on ways to help you. New developments to make us impossibly strong. I am the Prophet’s Hand, my duty is to serve and advise you. But more than that, I am your twin. And I want to see all The Order’s prophecies realized. I swear, Cain, nothing will stop me from achievin
g this goal for you. Nothing.”

  Exhaling, feeling lighter by his words, I lowered my head. “Thank you, Judah. That means everything to me. Just… just do not do anything foolish. Remember, our salvation will come, but it will take time.”

  Judah tapped his hand on my back, then disappeared into the mansion.

  Left with my thoughts, I leaned forward, pushing my hands through my hair, elbows on knees. The siren sounded, calling our people for their prayers. I watched the workers begin to leave.

  But Judah’s consort held back. It was as though she did not want to go. I kept my focus on her, watching as she continued tending to the herbs. Then she glanced up and saw me. A deep blush immediately filled her cheeks. The consort rushed to her feet and moved to hurry to prayers. As I watched her meet the garden path, something inside of me pushed me to call her name.

  “Sister Phebe!” She stopped dead, and with a downcast head, turned to face me. Her bright red hair was tied back away from her face. Even from this distance I could see her chewing on her bottom lip.

  “Come here,” I commanded, registering that we were now alone. Sister Phebe picked up the hem of her long dress and walked toward me. When she reached the bottom of the steps, she stopped. Her head remained bowed, as was required in the presence of the Lord’s Prophet.

  “Be at ease, sister,” I ordered. Sister Phebe relaxed her shoulders but her eyes remained downcast. “Look at me.”

  Seeing her expel a long sigh, she lifted her head and her blue eyes met mine. I studied her features. She was pretty. Her skin was pale, but clear and smooth, her hair was striking and her eyes seemed warm. I could understand why my brother took her as one of his women. Sister Phebe glanced to the side under my scrutiny and, for a moment, I could discern her sister's looks in her face. I could see the Cursed Delilah.

  Judah’s consort nervously rocked on her feet, so I sat forward and asked, “How are you, Sister Phebe?”

  Phebe’s eyes snapped to mine and she swallowed. “I am well, my Lord.”

  Her lips began to tremble. “I don’t think you are, sister. You have not been acting like your normal self for weeks.” I paused and watched her head lower again, then added, “Is it because Judah has taken a second?”

  Lifting her head, Phebe’s eyes widened at my question. She quickly shook her head. “No, my Lord.”

  “Are you sure? Your mood change is not due to jealousy? Because jealousy has no place in this commune, nor your heart. You know our scriptures condemn envy and greed.”

  A firm expression set on Phebe’s face and she replied, “I am absolutely not jealous, my Lord. I know taking several consorts is what our scripture advises.”

  Resting my elbows on my knees, I asked, “Then what is it?” She went to open her mouth, when I commanded harshly, “And do not lie to your Prophet.”

  Phebe’s mouth slammed shut. A sudden empty feeling filled my stomach. Then a thought crossed my mind. “Judah has not hurt you, has he?”

  Phebe’s lips parted, but she shook her head. She moved to speak, but then something stopped her.

  “Speak,” I demanded.

  Phebe shook her head in refusal. “What is troubling me is sinful, my Lord. It is wrong, but I cannot stop thinking about it all the same.”

  I tried to imagine what could be sinful to her, then remembered her avoidance of the call to prayer. “Are these thoughts why you missed prayers?”

  Phebe hesitated, then reluctantly nodded her head. “I am unclean. I am not worthy of prayer.” Tears filled her eyes, and I found myself getting to my feet. I walked down the steps until I stood right before her. Phebe, this close, was shaking. Reaching my hand up, I placed my finger under her chin, until her eyes clashed with my own.

  A tear fell down her cheek.

  “Tell me what you fear is sinful.” Phebe tried to pull away. “No!” I commanded. She froze. “You will tell me, now!”

  Phebe’s lip trembled, but she forced herself to whisper, “It is… it is my sister. It is my Rebek—,” She corrected the name. “It is my Delilah.”

  I immediately dropped my hand. Phebe lowered her head once more. “I told you it was sinful, my Lord. I am wrong to keep thinking of her. To keep thinking of what was done to her all those weeks ago.”

  I stepped back. I thought of Delilah’s face as I told her to confess her sins to me, when she had been recaptured from the Hangmen compound. She had refused. And I had washed my hands of her. She was Mae’s sister. I could not deal with someone Mae loved. She was still my weakness.

  Judah took over her instruction as I took myself into seclusion, to atone for my weakness over that woman. Salome. My destined wife.

  I never asked Judah what was done to Delilah. I could not. I could not bring myself to hear what she received in punishment for disobeying our ways.

  Phebe interrupted my reflection. She lifted her head and cried, “My Lord, I cannot rid my mind of what was done to her. Of what she looked like when I found her on the Hill of Perdition, hanging from a stake and being spiritually cleansed by the brothers.” She sobbed, and continued, “Then seeing the devil’s men come to retrieve her. Of what they did to the brothers in their rage.”

  I swallowed as she talked of the fallen brothers, of their punishments, of Delilah, of the Hangmen breaking into my commune unnoticed, severing the one remaining link I had to Mae.

  Placing my hand on her shoulder, I reassured, “Truly, it was too much for you to witness, Sister. For you to see the brother’s slain bodies.”

  Phebe cried harder and shook her head. “No…” she whispered. I pulled back my hand.

  “No, what?”

  Sniffing, Phebe wiped at her eyes, then confessed, “I sin because I rejoice at what the devil’s men did. I am happy that they killed our brothers.” Her blue eyes stared straight ahead, losing focus. “After what they had just done to Delilah, I was happy. They went further than Judah had commanded, even though what he ordered was not at all based on our scripture. But… but I could not speak up. I dared not question a command of the Prophet’s Hand.”

  Her eyes fixed on mine and she said coldly, “They violated her. They took her, they hurt her over and over again. But that was not supposed to be her punishment. Judah… Judah ordered them to make Delilah suffer. Of course, I was not meant to have heard his command. But… but I did.”

  Clearing her throat, she squared her shoulders and continued. “When the devil’s men took Delilah; when the man with long blond hair saved her and held her protectively in his arms… I was happy.”

  Phebe ran her hand over her forehead, clearly in distress.

  What she had said raced through my mind. Judah had issued a punishment not-of-scripture? Delilah had been put on a stake? They had… repeatedly taken her?

  Phebe was staring at me as I lowered my gaze. “My Lord, I believe that if you had issued the punishment, it would not have been of that nature.” She sucked in a breath and boldly asked, “Am I correct?”

  I fought to breathe at the thought of what Phebe had so graphically described. But she was wrong. Surely she had to be wrong?

  I rallied, then asked, “You were tied up to a tree, were you not? Judah reported that his consort was found tied to a tree, dehydrated and distressed.”

  What looked like hope quickly disappeared from Phebe’s eyes. “Yes, my Lord.”

  Folding my arms over my chest, I probed, “So you may not have seen what you think you did?”

  “I—” Her mouth opened then quickly closed.

  “The devil’s men tied you up, Sister. Your body was injured when you were found, was it not?”

  She nodded. “Because of the many hours I was there, not because those men hurt me.” She blinked. Then blinked again. “In fact, the man with the long brown hair who tied me up was gentle. And he… and he stared at me the entire time. There was something in his eyes. He—” she stopped speaking when her cheeks filled with redness.

  My jaw ached with how hard I was gritting my teeth. I believ
ed in Judah. I believed my brother would not have sanctioned such acts against the Cursed Delilah. I looked to Phebe again. Her big eyes were staring up at me, rather too intently.

  My stomach rolled when I realized this could be a ruse. Containing my anger, I asked, “Are you sure you are not simply bitter over Judah taking a second? One, by his own confession, who is a perfect consort? And all of this, this imagining, is merely to regain his attention?”

  Phebe’s face paled to a deathly white. “No, my Lord.”

  “But can you see how you could have imagined it all due to your dehydration and many hours tied up, unable to move?”

  Phebe paused then, eventually, her shoulders sagged. “Yes, my Lord.”

  Relief filled my veins and I stepped back. “Do you have duties to perform tonight, Sister?”

  “Yes,” she replied, “I am the head Sacred Sister. We are to leave the commune tonight to spread the Lord’s love.”

  “No,” I snapped. Phebe flinched. “You are to go into seclusion until you rid yourself of your sinful thoughts. I will inform Judah.”

  Phebe’s eyes became eerily wide. “But, my Lord. Judah, he will—”

  “Do not question me, Sister,” I bellowed coldly. Phebe immediately dropped to the ground, prostrating herself at my feet.

  “I am sorry, my Lord.”

  Turning, I left Phebe on the ground. I swiftly climbed the steps, rushing toward the solitude of my mansion. With every step I thought of what Phebe had said about Judah, Delilah, the fallen brothers.

  And with every step, I told myself that what she had just divulged could, in no way, be true. That Judah was simply not capable of such cruelty, of such depravity. And he would never ever break the edicts of scripture, to defy what we held to be true.

  He was my brother.

  He would never betray me in such a way.

  Chapter Six

  Flame

  I followed behind AK, Vike to my right, Hush and Cowboy bringing up the rear in the truck. It was a real quick drop off, Georgetown, which I was fucking good with. My skin was jumping so damn much I could barely fucking ride.