Bitter Falls (Stillhouse Lake #4)(103)

Sister Harmony’s not stopping for the screams and shouts of the other girls and women, or the crying children. She races down the aisle, and from behind she looks like a comet flying through the dark, with ghosts shouting and flailing all around her in their white nightgowns.

I don’t know what Sister Harmony is going to do until she bangs on the locked door and shouts through it, “Help! Help, they’re in here! Save us! They’ll kill us all!” She shoves me back against the wall, and Vee realizes what she’s doing before I do, because I see the gleam of that knife in her hand. I don’t want to use mine. I pick up a table instead and hold it.

There are other women coming toward us. I count five, plus a wispy blonde girl of about ten, and the babies and little kids. The other women are milling around, shouting. Some are kneeling and praying. Those are the ones Harmony can’t trust, I realize. The ones who won’t fight. Or who believe too much to try.

Harmony smashes a plank on the floor with the heel of her shoe, and beneath it is a white sack. She pulls it out and dumps the contents on the floor. Kitchen knives. She must have taken them gradually, I guess. There aren’t enough for everyone.

Vee’s turning her switchblade restlessly over and over in her hand. There’s a tense brilliance in her eyes that makes me worry she’s going to do something stupid. But I’m holding a table. Maybe I should use the knife instead.

The door slams open before I decide, missing Sister Harmony, and as a man charges in with a gun she buries a kitchen knife in his forearm. The gun goes off, but it fires into the floorboards. I back up. I know I should be doing something, but I don’t know what; I just know that everything seems to slow down, that I feel hot and clumsy, and people are in my way.

And then everything focuses and there’s an opening. I swing my table and connect with the side of his head; he staggers. I drop the table and shove him, and he stumbles, off balance. Vee trips him, and I watch him crash to the floor. He looked angry when he came in the door, but now it’s turned to shock. And as he realizes what’s really happening, he’s scared. He’s down on his stomach, squirming to get up.

I should get something to tie him up, I think, and I look around, but before I can find anything Sister Harmony’s dropped down on his back as he tries to rise, and with one quick thrust, she puts her kitchen knife in the back of his neck. I see it happen, and I don’t really understand it for a second, not until he goes still. It’s fast and clean, and I only realize that he’s dead a few slow seconds later. I don’t know how I feel. I only know that she’s crying, and she says—not to us, to him—“This time you’re the one who’s culled.”

Sister Harmony scoops up the gun before Vee can make a try for it, and the older woman raises it, covering the open doorway. “Vera, Connor, take the sisters and children to the RV, and find a way out of here.”

“Aren’t you coming?” I ask her. I know I should be afraid of her. Horrified, too; she just killed someone. But she’s like Mom, a warrior, protecting those she loves. I grab a little kid who’s crying by the hand, then pick him up. He’s heavier than I expected. Warmer.

Sister Harmony shakes her head. That heavy golden braid hisses like a snake against the fabric of her shirt. “I’ll bring the rest. As many as I can,” she says. “Just go. Don’t wait. Once they realize we’re loose, they’ll come for us.”

I stop and look at her. She’s never held a gun before, I can tell; her hands are shaking worse than mine. “You were supposed to kill all of them, weren’t you?”

She drags in a heavy breath and nods. “Day of reckoning,” she says. “I was supposed to burn the Garden and let no one live. Go, boy. And don’t stop!”

Vee yells at the other women and children to link hands, and she goes to the back of the line. I’m up in the front, with a dark-haired woman almost Harmony’s age. I remember someone saying her name: Sister Rose. She says, “We’ll need to run. I know where to go. I’ll lead.” She’s holding a knife, and she looks scared to the bone, but determined too. She holds out her hand, and I take it. Most of the kids are being carried. The little boy I’m holding has his arms around my neck, and all of a sudden I realize how dangerous this is, how he could be hurt if I fall or if somebody comes at us, and I’m not scared for myself anymore. I have to make sure he’s okay.

We run.

Toward the gate there are men clustered and guns booming, but they’re focused on whoever’s outside the gates. FBI. Mom. Mom could be out there.

I need to get Sam, but first I need to get this little boy who’s got his arms around me to safety. That’s most important. So we run, pulling each other along, and when Sister Rose stumbles I help her up, and we keep running. A man runs toward us to try to stop us, but when Sister Rose screams and raises the knife she’s holding, he stumbles back in surprise. He’s got a gun, though. One of those assault rifles. And as he backs up, he raises it, and I feel a pulse of ice cold go through me. I can’t do anything. Not with the kid in my arms.

Sister Rose lets go of my hand and launches herself at him, screaming. He stumbles again, and then she’s on him. When she gets up, she’s got the gun and there’s blood on her shirt. She takes off running again, and I follow, yanking the line along with me. I can’t look back. I’m scared that Vee’s in trouble at the rear, or that more men are coming after us. All I can do is keep chasing Sister Rose.