Messiahs by Matt Rogers (bookstand for reading txt) 📕

‘You need to protect the interests of the cause.’

Slater’s words were veiled in sarcasm.

Dane’s smirk shifted slightly. It was no longer co-conspiratorial; now it was as if Slater was a true outsider, his words falling pathetically on deaf ears.

Dane said, ‘I think your ego is in the way.’

Slater paused. ‘What?’

‘You think because you’ve got some combat experience you deserve more than your fellow disciples. You think you should be put on a pedestal, maybe armed with weapons, allowed to lord over the peasants as the right-hand-man to myself and Maeve. You think the privileges that come with your manipulation of Mother Libertas royalty are fully deserved. But I suggest otherwise. I suggest you are lost, adrift in this beautiful country with no fixed purpose. You have a collection of jigsaw pieces in your hands but no idea how to assemble them into anything resembling a cohesive narrative. So this is what I propose. We will not recruit you as equals. You do not deserve to go unenlightened. What we shall do instead is convert you, and then you’ll provide those services to the cause with no expectation of reward or recognition. Because the success of the cause is the ultimate reward, and its spread across this planet is enough recognition for a million lifetimes.’

Slater saw, up close and personal, how rhetoric could be used by a master wordsmith to give them a biblical aura. He saw right through each of Dane’s thinly veiled persuasions, and didn’t lend the shtick any weight.

But he had to get this conversation back on track, or all their work would be for nothing.

Slater said, ‘Cut the shit. I’m not some hillbilly you feed a few fairytales to and expect them to slave away for you. I have very particular skills and they come with a price. Same goes with my friend. So either we enter negotiations or the two of us pack up shop and hike out of here.’

Dane said, ‘If you came with the assumption of negotiation I’m afraid you’ll leave empty-handed.’

His eyes blazed now, alight with splendour.

Slater shifted uncomfortably.

‘You taste the honey?’ Dane said.

Slater looked down at his glass, and suddenly it seemed radioactive. ‘What?’

‘The water,’ Dane said. ‘It’s scented.’

‘I tasted lemon instead of honey.’

Dane shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter either way. It’s time for your awakening, brother.’

Slater sat deathly still.

Every minuscule sound in the cabin echoed, far more than before. If Slater’s drink had been spiked, it’d take time to kick in. Drugs don’t work instantaneously, unless he was snorting cocaine or injecting heroin directly into the bloodstream. Oral consumption took longer. He had time.

He went for the knife beside his plate.

‘No,’ Dane said.

It might have been a trick of the mind, but Slater could swear the man’s voice boomed louder than humanly possible. He said it quietly, but it somehow reverberated off the cabin walls.

Is it kicking in already?

He remembered the kid, Jace, almost degloving himself, his eyes swollen in frenzy.

Was there Bodhi coursing through his own veins?

He realised too late his hand was hovering inches off the knife. He hadn’t committed to the gesture. He figured Dane had something he needed to hear.

Dane said, ‘I’d suggest you reconsider your decision. You could kill me, sure … I don’t doubt that. But in about fifteen minutes you’re going to get hit by a wave you’ve never felt before. All the vehicles are locked up, so you’ll have to flee on foot, and at night the grasslands are a bad place to lose your mind.’

Slater thought he’d mastered his fears.

Tamed his animal instincts, put himself in so many life-or-death situations that the concept of danger barely registered anymore.

But this was a whole different beast.

This would be a trip to the edge of insanity.

He said, ‘Fuck you.’

His voice quivered. It shocked him.

He’d never lost control like this, and the drugs hadn’t hit him yet.

Dane said, ‘Good. Let it out. You came here with rage, my brother, a deep rage in your soul, and you and I are going to get to the bottom of it tonight. This cabin is our therapy booth. And I took your story on board before we came here. I sensed your power … both you and Jason have it radiating off you. You are strong men with strong minds. It’ll take some effort to break through that barrier. That’s why I dosed your water with six hits of Bodhi. You’ve had half your glass, so that’s three full doses. One dose is enough to send a disciple into a new world. But you are prepared for this, my brother, and you will emerge a new man. We will confront your demons here tonight. We will find your truth, find your peace. You will emerge a fanatic of the cause. I’m sure of it.’

Slater couldn’t speak.

Not from the drugs crippling his motor senses; they hadn’t even hit him yet.

The fear, the uncertainty, the endless falling sensation in his stomach…

It was fear he’d never grappled with.

Before he began to spiral he was already flashing through an internal kaleidoscope, watching a slideshow of all the horrors he’d witnessed throughout his life, all the terrors that made him turn to the bottle in the first place.

He put his head in his hands and said, ‘Shit.’

Dane smiled.

Slater could hear the man’s lips tilting upward.

Dane said, ‘Are you ready for the war inside your head?’

71

Violetta and Alexis ate in Brandon’s shadow.

He loomed over them, taking his assigned role as their guardian very seriously. Whoever had put him up to it, they’d been serious, because he wasn’t even bothering to make it look like his presence was genuine. He chewed noisily beside Alexis, their shoulders touching, and stared daggers across the table at Violetta.

Violetta couldn’t remember the last time she’d despised someone more.

Finally Alexis broke, but Violetta couldn’t tell whether it was part of the cover or not.

Alexis jerked a few inches across the bench away from Brandon, and said, ‘Could you leave us alone, please?’

Brandon smirked through a mouthful of cajun chicken