you learned about our possible transportation to South America?”
“Just as you thought, we’ll need to do it in several waves. Trips, perhaps of two or three dozen at a time.”
“South America?” Kathleen didn’t understand. “I thought we were going to Colorado.”
Stephen wouldn’t meet her eyes. He looked away, embarrassed, as if he had gotten caught revealing a secret. She looked to Father for an answer.
“Of course we’re going to Colorado, Kathleen. This is merely a backup plan. No one else knows, and it must not leave this room,” he instructed. She studied his face to see if he was angry, but then he smiled and said, “You three are the only ones I can trust.”
“So we are still going to Colorado?” Kathleen had fallen in love with the slides he had shown them of the hot springs, the beautiful aspen trees and wildflowers. What did she know about South America? It seemed so far away, so remote, so primitive.
“Yes, of course,” he reassured her. “This is just in case we need to leave the country.”
She must have not looked convinced, because he reached for her hands, taking them delicately in his as though they were fragile rose petals.
“You must trust me, my dear Kathleen. I would never let any harm come to any of you. But there are people, evil people, in the media and in the government who would be pleased to destroy us.”
“People like Ben Garrison,” Stephen said with an uncharacteristic snarl that surprised Kathleen and garnered a smile from Father.
“Yes, people like Mr. Garrison. He was only able to spend a couple of days inside the compound before we discovered his true mission, but we’re still not certain what he saw or what he knows. What lies he might tell the rest of the world.”
Absently, he still held Kathleen’s hands in his and began caressing the palms while he continued to address Stephen. “What do we know about the cabin? How did the feds even find out about it?”
“I’m still not sure. Perhaps a disgruntled ex-member?”
“Perhaps.”
“Everything is lost,” Stephen answered, looking at his hands, not able to meet Father’s eyes.
“Everything?”
Stephen only nodded.
Kathleen had no idea what they were referring to, but Father and Stephen often talked of secret missions that didn’t concern her. Right now all she could focus on was how Father’s large hands seemed to be massaging her small ones, making her feel special but at the same time, much too warm and suddenly much too uncomfortable. She wanted to pull her hands away but knew that would be wrong. Father only meant it as a gesture of compassion. How dare she think otherwise. She felt her cheeks flush at the mere thought.
“We have one loose end,” Stephen said.
“Yes, I know. I’ll take care of that. Will we need to…” Father hesitated as if looking for the correct word. “Will we need to accelerate our departure?”
Stephen pulled out some papers, along with a map, went to Father’s side and got down on one knee, showing him the items. Kathleen watched Stephen, concentrating on his gestures. He constantly amazed her. Though tall and lean with flawless brown skin, boyish features and a sharp mind, he appeared timid and quiet, as if always waiting for permission to speak. Father said Stephen was brilliant, but at the same time, he was too humble for his own good, slow to take credit and a little too ordinary in his mannerisms to stand out. He was the type of man who would not easily be noticed. And Kathleen wondered if that made his everyday job more or less difficult.
She tried to remember what it was that he did at the Capitol. Though she spent hours with Stephen and Emily in conversations like this, she knew little about either of them. Stephen’s position sounded like an important one. She had heard him mention something about his level of security clearance, and he was always dropping the names of senators and their aides whom he had talked to or whom he would get in touch with. Whatever his position was, it obviously helped Father and the church.
Stephen finished with the papers, stood and retreated. Kathleen realized she hadn’t paid attention to a word of the conversation. She looked to Father’s face, checking to see if he had noticed. His olive skin and bristled jaw made him look older than his forty-six years. There were new lines at his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. So much pressure he was under, too much for one man. That was what he often told them, but then said he had no choice, really, that God had chosen him to lead his followers to a better life. He finally pulled his hands back, away from Kathleen’s, and folded them together in his lap. At first, Kathleen thought it was in prayer until she noticed him kneading the hem of his jacket, a subtle but disturbing gesture.
“Those who want to destroy us draw closer each day,” he said in a hushed tone, confiding in the three of them. “There are ways I can destroy some of our enemies, but others can simply be stifled for the time being. Everything stored at the cabin was for our protection, our security. If all is lost, we will need to find some other way to obtain protection. We must protect ourselves from those who wish to destroy us. Those who are jealous of my power. What concerns me most is that I sense betrayal within our own ranks.”
Emily gasped, and Kathleen wanted to slap her. Couldn’t she see this was hard enough for Father? He needed their strength and support, not their panic. Although she wasn’t sure what Father meant by betrayal. She knew there had been members who had left, several recently. And then, of course, the reporter-that photographer who had pretended to be a lost soul to gain access to their compound.
“No one shall cross me and go unpunished.” Instead of angry, Father looked sad when he said this, glancing at each of them as if appealing to them for help, though this strong, miraculous man would never ask for such a thing, at least not for himself. It made Kathleen want to say or do something to comfort him.
“I’m counting on the three of you,” he continued. “Only you can help. We must not let lies destroy us. We cannot trust anyone. We mustn’t let them break up our church.” The calm slowly transformed to anger, his hands turning to fists and his face changing from olive to crimson. Still his voice remained steady. “Anyone who is not with us is against us. Those against us are jealous of our faith, jealous of our knowledge and of our special graces with God.”
He pounded a fist on the chair arm, making Kathleen jump. He didn’t seem to notice and continued as if the rage had taken control. She had never seen him like this before. Spittle drooled from the corner of his mouth as he said, “They’re jealous of my power. They want to destroy me, because I know too many of their secrets. They will not destroy everything I worked so hard to build. How dare they even think they can outwit me. That they can destroy me. I see the end and it will come in a ball of fire if they choose to destroy me.”
Kathleen watched, uncomfortable yet unflinching. Perhaps this was one of Father’s prophetic fits. He had told them about his visions, his tremors, his talks with God, but no one had witnessed one. Is that what was happening now? Is that what caused the veins at his temples to bulge and his teeth to clench? Is this what it looked like to talk to God? How would she know? She had stopped talking to God ages ago. Right about the time she started believing in the power of Jack Daniel’s and Jim Beam.
However, Father did seem to have special powers, certain knowledge, almost psychic abilities. How else was he able to so keenly zero in on people’s fears? How else was he able to know so much about things the media and the government kept from everyone?
She had been shocked at first when he told them about the government putting chemicals like fluoride in the water to cause cancer or about the government injecting healthy cows with E. coli to cause a national panic. About the government putting listening devices in cellular phones and cameras in ATM machines, all to record their every move. Even the magnetic strips on the back of credit cards contained personal tracking devices. And now with the Internet, the government could see inside people’s homes anytime they went online.
At first she had found it all hard to believe, but each time, Father read to them articles from sources he said were unbiased, some in prestigious medical journals, and all backing up his knowledge.
He was one of the wisest men Kathleen had ever known. She still wasn’t sure she cared whether or not her soul had been saved. What Kathleen O’Dell did care about was that, for the first time in more than two decades, she believed in someone again and that she was surrounded by people who cared about her. She was an integral part of a community, an integral part of something larger and more important than herself. That was something she had never experienced.
“Kathleen?”
