Messiahs by Matt Rogers (bookstand for reading txt) 📕

She tried to drain the colour from her face.

She thought it worked — she felt terrible.

Maeve offered her a cup. ‘Here.’

Violetta said, ‘What is it?’

‘Gaia’s lifeblood,’ Maeve said. ‘You’ll be astonished.’

Violetta let herself look intrigued, then told herself, Now.

She envisioned biting into a fetid, rotting corpse.

It worked.

She retched, doubled over, and threw up on the floor.

Maeve darted back.

‘I’m sorry,’ Violetta coughed between retches. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I ate something… oh, no. I’m sorry.’

Maeve said, ‘It’s no problem. Here. Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.’

Violetta retched again.

Maeve’s mouth creased into a hard line and she gestured to a couple of nearby disciples. One supported Violetta under her arm and helped her out of the mess hall. Another darted for cleaning cloths and set to work mopping up the vomit.

The floor was clean and disinfected in less than a minute.

The disciples were desperate to please.

Maeve resumed her position like nothing was amiss and gestured Alexis forward. ‘Drink, my dear. Unfortunately your friend missed out.’

Alexis downed her cup, gave Maeve a smile of gratitude, and went out.

Violetta, you genius, she thought.

58

King watched one of the disciples help Violetta out of the building.

The morning sun struck her face. It was drained of colour. There were flecks of puke around the corners of her mouth.

King couldn’t help himself.

Silently commanding himself to maintain his cover, he darted forward. ‘Are you okay?’

She looked up, and there was relief in her eyes.

It made him pause.

He’d been ready to go to war with the whole commune.

She waved a hand dismissively. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine. Had a spell of nausea before I made it to the exit. A real shame. I didn’t get to try that water.’

King breathed out.

He unclenched his fists.

‘Rest up,’ he said. ‘Make sure you stay hydrated.’

She smiled at him like a shy stranger. ‘Of course.’

The disciple led her away.

When King turned around, Slater was right there, his own fists balled up.

He’d been just as ready to fight.

King’s eyes said what he couldn’t vocalise.

Thank you, brother.

Slater returned the gaze, injecting the same weight into his own look.

They turned and saw Dane coming down from the farmhouse. He weaved around followers, putting a hand on their shoulders one by one, then worked his way over to King and Slater.

His eyes on King, he said, ‘Ready to get to work?’

‘Of course.’

‘Your friend will help you.’

Slater said, ‘What?’

Dane let the question fade into nothingness. He didn’t take his eyes off King the whole time. ‘I suggest you explain.’

He was at the end of his tether, sick of being talked back to, and Slater recognised it.

King said to Slater, ‘I was a prick. It’s my bad. We’re going to do some grunt work to prove we’re taking this job seriously. That okay?’

Slater shrugged. ‘Work is work.’ He turned to Dane. ‘Where do you need us?’

It disarmed Dane, provided him some much needed respite. ‘You’ll be scrubbing floors and toilets.’

Another test.

Slater said, ‘Fine by me.’

Dane relaxed. He was satisfied. ‘Follow me. And don’t forget our dinner tonight, Will.’

‘I’m looking forward to it.’

Dane paused, thrown off by the sudden change of demeanour. ‘You two might be the men for the job after all.’

King said, ‘That’s what we’re here for.’

Dane led them away from the mess hall.

59

A bell tolled above the church, signalling the imminent afternoon congregation.

King and Slater pounced at the opportunity.

The noise gave them the window they needed. They stood up from the scrubbed floorboards in one of the bunkhouses, their shirts spotted with sweat stains, and went out back where there was no one watching. The bell clanged incessantly, over and over again, but they knew it wouldn’t last forever.

So they talked fast.

Slater said, ‘Bodhi is fucking incredible.’

He’d been zoned in with unnatural focus all morning and afternoon. Scrubbing floors and toilets and stripping beds of dirty sheets felt like purposeful work, and he’d relished every moment of it. The feeling had never overwhelmed him, but the chemicals in each compound seemed to co-exist in mutual harmony. He’d never felt all that different, but his mood had elevated ever so slightly and then stayed there all day, without fail. It was a beautiful stream of artificial energy, and he couldn’t imagine what a full hit of the stuff would feel like.

King said, ‘Right?’

‘That was a microdose,’ Slater said. ‘What would a full dose feel like?’

‘Maybe a microdose is the optimal dosage.’

‘Maybe.’

Slater took a breath. ‘So what are we waiting for exactly?’

King said, ‘We need to figure out whether Elias is their only security.’

‘You think they’re that stupid?’

‘I don’t think they’re stupid,’ King said, ‘but they might be naïve.’

‘They might really think he’s some Wing Chun master?’

‘Don’t get it twisted,’ King said. ‘He is a Wing Chun master. That’s just impractical in actual combat.’

‘You don’t sound so sure.’

King shrugged. ‘This whole fucking place gives me the creeps. I don’t know what to believe. But I say we do it tonight. After your dinner with Dane. We isolate Elias and kill him, then go for the Riordans when they don’t suspect a thing.’

‘Kill Elias?’ Slater said. ‘Does he deserve it?’

King remembered the anguished expression on the face of the corpse Elias had buried.

He said, ‘Yes. I saw him with a body.’

‘Body?’ Slater said. ‘Whose body?’

The bell tolled a final time, and the background noise faded.

King scanned the building beside them for signs of bugs, but he knew if they were there they’d be concealed well. And he couldn’t take Slater out into the grassland to speak. Someone would see. Suspicion would arise.

King gave Slater a look, saying, Trust me.

Slater nodded back.

They went back through the bunkhouse, out its front door, and made a beeline for the church. The last of the disciples were filing in. Their mutual excitement bristled in the air. It was like a fever, originating with a small expression of elation and then spreading fast through the ranks.

King heard whoops, hollers, and shouts of camaraderie.

Clearly Mother Libertas didn’t require respectful silence during their congregations.

Respect didn’t mesh with a movement