Away From the Dark (The Light #2)(80)

The Light offered its followers enlightenment—knowledge of God’s purpose without the darkness of everyday life. The entire organization was a well-oiled machine. Each voluntary follower sold their earthly possessions and abandoned the dark, willingly entering a world of slave labor. While the chosen had the elite jobs, the average follower worked in more physically demanding jobs like those in the production plants. Whether producing the pharmaceuticals at the Northern Light, the Preserve the Light preserves at the Western Light, or the illegal drugs, mostly meth and crack, at the Eastern Light, or working at the packaging and distribution sites, followers eagerly devoted ten or more hours a day to be enlightened.

Father Gabriel’s teachings preached the promise of clarification by devoting one’s life to others, being part of the body, and fulfilling Father Gabriel’s missions. In the process the followers were relieved of the burden of pressures and decisions that plagued their lives in the dark. Hours worked in their assigned jobs earned followers credit in the commissary as well as the clothing and furnishing stores. The more hours worked above the required sixty-five a week, the more credits they earned. As long as followers worked their prescribed jobs, every need had the potential to be met. The Light provided anything they needed. If it wasn’t available or within their reach, then it wasn’t necessary.

One of the most frequently mentioned reasons for entering The Light that I’d heard since I began counseling followers was that The Light offered the ability to walk away from the stress and struggles they faced in the dark. In The Light they were free to devote their lives and be enlightened. Working as part of the body gave them purpose.

Before Sara I saw The Light for the sham it was. After Sara I admit that I fell into the rhythm. That may have been part of the reason the Commission had insisted I take a wife. When Sara and I were in Fairbanks and she’d confessed to not hating the life she was now able to look back on and see as depraved, I hadn’t told her that I understood exactly what she meant, but I did. The months following her initial indoctrination could be labeled pleasant. Without meaning to I’d fallen under The Light’s spell.

As I brushed the burned tips of my fingers over the cover of our bed, memories of our short time together ran like a highlight reel through my head. I remembered the way her lower lip disappeared when she was nervous or excited and the way she looked first thing in the morning. My skin chilled as I thought about her warmth as I’d wrapped my arms around her and spooned her soft yet firm body. Those terms seemed contradictory, but they weren’t. Her skin was as soft as velvet and so was her body, in all the right places. At the same time, running and genetics had blessed her with firm muscles and a flat stomach.

I sank to the bed, my knees suddenly weak.

Will her stomach change? Is she really carrying my child, our child?

I looked at the clock on the bedside stand. It was after six in the evening here, which meant it was after ten at the Eastern Light. I’d left Sara over six hours ago. Six hours, and I was losing it.

How am I supposed to make it until Wednesday?

I refused to believe she’d meet the same fate as Benjamin and Raquel. I refused. If she didn’t survive until Micah and I made it to Fairbanks on Wednesday, when I would contact the FBI, there would be only one person to blame, and it would be me.

I could try to point the finger at Richards or even Father Gabriel, and my accusations wouldn’t be unfounded; however, three nights ago she and I had been in a cheap motel in Fairbanks. As the continued silence echoed throughout the apartment, I knew I wasn’t her savior or anyone else’s. Despite all my grand proclamations, I had a good chance of experiencing the same fate as Benjamin. If I did, at least I had Sara to thank that the FBI now had a case against The Light. I hadn’t given them everything in our short debriefing, but they’d gotten enough. Even if I were banished, I’d die knowing Father Gabriel would soon be going down.

Fuck! I needed to snap out of this.

I walked to our closet. As I opened the door, the fresh scent of fabric softener knocked me backward. Before Sara, my laundry had been done by female followers whose job it was to do the unmarried men’s laundry. Though they were efficient, it wasn’t the same. Then I’d find my clothes packaged outside on the stoop of my apartment. Now I never saw laundry done, or rarely, but the clean clothes appeared, hanging perfectly straight, ready for me whenever I wanted them.

I fought the onslaught of emotions brought on by something as stupid as fabric softener as I searched for my jacket. It was my lightweight one, the only one I could’ve possibly worn at the Western Light. It was hanging exactly where Sara would’ve hung it, on my side of the closet. I anxiously ripped it from the hanger and fumbled through the pockets, coming up empty except for a wadded-up tissue and a piece of gum.

No envelope.

Dropping the jacket on the bed, my hands went to my hair. I once again held my head and pushed, forcing myself to think. I could envision Brother Reuben handing the white envelope to me as Brother Michael and I laughed about the production. I recalled my phone vibrating again as we laughed.

I rushed to the clothes hamper and searched for the jeans I’d been wearing. My phone had been in my front pocket.

Did I stuff the envelope in there after I got my phone out?

There was nothing in the pockets of my jeans.

I knew I hadn’t taken my phone out of my pocket until I was in the air. I hadn’t wanted Brother Michael, or anyone at the Western Light, to misinterpret my talking on my phone. The damn envelope had to be in the plane. I considered calling Micah to check, but then I remembered that he’d left the hangar right after I had.