Messiahs by Matt Rogers (bookstand for reading txt) 📕

hitting him like punches.

Memories of endless killings and beatings. Blood, bullets, gore, steel, broken bones, torn skin.

He tried to force himself out of the thought loop.

He couldn’t.

So he went toward it.

‘Try it,’ he said out loud to himself. ‘Try and break me.’

He went deep into his own head, gave himself over to the traumatic memories, and the rest of the world fell away.

The Bodhi seized him, and he felt the full power of it.

Three substances, combined in perfect ratios.

A whole new world.

He rested his head back against the tree trunk and fought to maintain his sanity.

78

In the bowels of the farmhouse, Dane’s phone screen lit up with an incoming call.

It was three in the morning now. Dane had locked himself in his office, plotting, scheming. A plan was coming together. All he needed now was confirmation.

He answered the phone. ‘Connor.’

‘Sorry,’ the voice said back. It was youthful yet experienced. ‘Work’s been chaotic.’

‘Did you do what I asked?’

A pause. ‘You’re going to love me.’

‘I already do,’ Dane said. ‘Gaia runs through us, and she flows to you. You know what that feels like. If you have good intel, I’ll permit you to ascend to the next level. And the Bodhi will flow forever.’

Connor sucked in a breath in nervous anticipation.

Then he said, ‘Jason King and Will Slater. Those are their real names.’

Dane sat forward in his chair, eyes widening. ‘They’re in the system?’

Connor nearly laughed. ‘To put it mildly. You ready for this?’

‘Of course.’

Connor told him a long story.

79

In the early hours of the morning, just before the sun started rising over the plains, Violetta stirred.

There was someone in the doorway.

She jolted and sat up, and the movement rattled the bed frame. She felt Alexis stir in the bunk underneath.

Violetta composed herself and said, ‘Yes?’

It was Elias.

He said, ‘Maeve wants to speak with you.’

Silhouetted by the weak hallway light, they couldn’t see his face, so Alexis assumed he was talking to both of them.

She grumbled, ‘Right,’ and swung one leg off the mattress.

‘Not you,’ Elias said.

His voice was soft, but there was something unhinged in it.

Alexis froze, halfway out of the lower bunk.

Elias said, ‘Get more sleep. There’s nothing to worry about.’

His shadowed head tilted upwards to the top bunk. ‘You. With me. Now.’

Violetta had no choice but to comply. Refusing would mean compromising the entire cover, and they were too early in the process for that. The communication they had with King and Slater was also more difficult than they’d imagined. So for now, obedience was key.

She got dressed, put her hair up in a bun, and followed Elias outside.

It was freezing. Her breath clouded in front of her face as she tucked her hands into her armpits to encourage circulation. Elias, dressed in a loose cotton tee and corduroy slacks, didn’t seem to notice. He walked in the Asian style, with his arms folded behind his back, like a pensive philosopher out on a late night stroll.

He made her uncomfortable.

With the night hanging thick over the commune, they headed for the farmhouse.

Violetta said, ‘What does she want with me at this hour?’

Elias shrugged. ‘That’s neither my business nor my concern.’

‘Thanks for the help.’

Elias bristled. He turned to look at her as he strolled. ‘Maybe it’s something to do with that attitude.’

‘What attitude?’

‘This is a community of love,’ Elias said. ‘We all lift one another up. Being curt and smug won’t get you anywhere.’

‘I meant no disrespect.’

‘That doesn’t automatically mean none was received,’ he said. ‘I’d be careful with your words in future.’

Every part of her wanted to fire back, but she didn’t.

Maeve was waiting on the farmhouse porch. A couple of the exterior lights were on at each end of the porch, petering out into a long shadow in the centre, where the front door hung open.

Maeve stood in front of the door, her dress silhouetted.

She said, ‘I apologise for the hour, Violetta. But there’s something we need to discuss.’

‘Sure,’ Violetta said.

Her heart beat a little harder than usual in her chest. She tried to quieten it.

Maeve gestured for the door. ‘Come on in.’

Elias said, ‘Do you need me?’

‘Wait out here,’ Maeve said.

It doubled the tension.

Elias bowed his head. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

Violetta followed her into the house. They sat in the same sitting room where she and Alexis had first been initiated, but the setup seemed far more sinister at night with minimal lighting than on a beautiful sunny day with fresh air flowing through the open windows.

Now it was cold and still.

Maeve sat down in the armchair and let the silence draw out.

As soon as Violetta started to squirm, Maeve sat forward and said, ‘You should have told me you were pregnant, dear.’

80

Alexis stewed in her bunk.

Indecision had her in its grasp, clouding her judgment. Was Violetta in danger? Should she get up and investigate when she’d been explicitly told to stay where she was? Was it worth blowing her cover on the off chance it was already compromised?

As she lay there, wondering what to do, she started to drift back into sleep. The stress of pretending to be someone else got to her, making her bone-tired in the moments of quiet respite. Against her best interests, she began to fade away, slipping into much-needed additional rest.

Then she woke up again to a gun barrel in her face.

Brandon stood over her, his bulk filling her field of view, trapping her in the bunk.

He held a semi-automatic pistol with a serious lack of trigger discipline — his finger was inside the trigger guard, an inch away from sending a round through her skull. If she made any sudden movements or startled him in any way, he’d probably accidentally pull it.

She froze, the weight of the situation striking her.

Like a giant fist around her throat, obstructing her breathing.

She tried to inhale and said, ‘What are you doing?’

‘You were good,’ he said. ‘You did well. But now it’s got to come to an end. Sorry.’

She said, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Brandon. Can we talk? Does