Lord of Order by Brett Riley (the reading list book TXT) 📕

can help New Orleans, she’s a friend. Even if she acts like a five-year-old.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, still touching, a foot apart. Such a short distance, and such an impossible journey. Like stepping outside your door and onto the moon.

Then Stransky chuckled. Sister Sarah’s hand dropped. Troy backed away.

Awww, Stransky said. Y’all are so cute.

And you’ve got a hole where your heart should be, Sister Sarah said.

You don’t know nothin about me.

Then it seems we’re both ignorant. Sister Sarah turned back to Troy. Watch your back.

Always.

She walked to the back door and put her hand on the knob. Hurt him, Sarah said, and I may forget my vows long enough to scratch your eyes out. Bible study’s in one hour. Don’t be late.

Stransky cackled.

If only Troy could disappear into the bowels of the nunnery until whatever was coming had passed by or conquered. He felt bone-weary. A lifetime of battle and responsibility had settled deep into him like sickness. On most days, the faces of the citizens kept him going. But now everything seemed to be crumbling. The Crusade had betrayed them, but Matthew Rook ruled the world. What could he do against that?

Well, well. Looks like you’re human after all. Stransky tittered.

He tucked his thumbs into his gun belt. No idea what you’re babblin about.

You and Sister Tightpants there. You got the hots for each other. You in love, or does she just make your pecker stand up and salute?

Troy knotted his hands into Stransky’s shirt and yanked her upright, his face two inches from hers. Don’t talk about her. Not ever. Or I’ll put a bullet in your gut.

You need me.

Not that bad.

Stransky laughed again. Troy shoved her back onto the pew.

Oh sure, she said. You’re just friends.

Troy gritted his teeth. You had a visitor. Tell me about that before I kick your teeth in.

Stransky patted the pew. Troy sat, keeping distance between them. He checked his pistols, making sure they were tied down. Sometimes the hand moved without the brain’s leave. Stransky faced him, tucking her legs beneath her.

Fella was one of my runners, she said. He brought news from our man inside Rook’s inner circle.

Am I supposed to guess what he told you?

First off, he passed the marchers’ vanguard. They’re a day out, two at the most.

That’s what Dwyer said. We ain’t nowhere near ready.

That ain’t the biggest problem.

What’s worse than that?

Rook plans to use bioweapons again, just like the first Purge.

Troy’s mouth fell open. What?

Stransky grinned. She seemed to enjoy his discomfort. Yep. They ain’t got enough left for the whole world, though, so they’re plannin to use topography wherever they can. Settin wildfires in California. Confiscatin winter fuel up in Canada and Minnesota. They’re gonna do somethin like that here. I reckon we should thank God we’ll miss the plagues.

Troy and his lieutenants had debated the purpose of the explosives inventory. Now one of their theories seemed likely.

They’re gonna blow up the levees and drown us, he said.

That’s what I figured too. Then they’ll get in your boats and pick off any survivors. Starvation and thirst will take care of anybody they miss.

Troy’s stomach fluttered. His hands shook as he mopped his brow again. Lord help us all.

Stransky leaned toward him. How’s it feel knowin you been killin the wrong folks all these years?

Troy said nothing. He could think of no adequate reply.

That night, Troy visited the Riverwalk. Patrols rode by Jackson Square, twice as many mounted guards circulating through the Quarter twice as often. I hope it helps folks sleep better. I wish I could tell em this is the first time the Temple’s been completely safe from the Troublers. He found his favorite bench and sat. The overcast sky merged with the black water, an abyss where nothing could live and no one could hear his prayers. He offered one up anyway, the same one he had said a hundred times since they captured Stransky: Please help me do right.

He could not get the blasphemous, impure thoughts about Sarah Gonzales out of his head. Father, forgive me my weakness. But forgiveness seemed as cold and dead as the starlight he could not even see. He fanned himself with his hat and waited.

Soon they materialized from the dark: Long, Ford, and Tetweiller ambled in from different directions. Boudreaux jogged up moments later, probably straight from the prison infirmary where he had been spending every free minute with Jack Hobbes. McClure and Bandit padded up from the water’s edge or, for all Troy knew, the river itself, two creatures from some other age whose comings and goings no person of aging flesh could understand. They fanned out in front of Troy, even Bandit, who sat between McClure and Tetweiller. The old lord knelt and scratched the dog’s ears.

Stransky’s got news, Troy said, keeping his voice low. The first prisoners will be here tomorrow, the day after at the latest.

Hell, Tetweiller said.

The dog yawned.

That ain’t all. They’re gonna use biologicals. Not here, but wherever they can, until their supply runs out.

Tetweiller spat. Son of a bitch.

What else? Long asked.

Stransky and me agree about what they’re gonna do in New Orleans. They’re gonna wall us in and blow the levees. Drown us like rats.

Sweet Father, Ford muttered.

Y’all been stockpilin supplies and ordnance?

Yes, sir, said Boudreaux.

We all have, said Tetweiller.

They sounded angry and nervous. Drawn faces, darting eyes, hunched postures that suggested stomachs crawling into throats. The rope they had fashioned to pull themselves out of sin’s deepest pit had knotted itself into a noose and was now draped around their throats.

Look, Troy said, we’re all scared. But we gotta keep it together. Our people are countin on us, even if they don’t know it. So are the Troublers. Ain’t no way we can convert em if they’re all dead.

McClure tittered. The child did not believe. She had seen too much blood on the streets and had turned harder than the cracked pavement on which they walked. McClure felt you