With a shaky nod, he confirms his allegiance, and I turn face forward, allowing myself to finally relax.
chapter 17 - Hell Fire And Brimstone
ANNA
I haven’t been able to do or say much since the meeting ended. Brea and Camila came down not long ago, and once again suggested shots. It certainly wasn’t as enthusiastic as last night, but she did manage to drag me out of my seat and over to the bar. Emily had come out of the kitchen, pulling bottles from the back shelf before pouring about twenty shots and then lining them along the bar. Mateo and Daniel had thrown one back first, and even Luke had grabbed one for himself. Brea and Camila were on their second shot, and had Emily making them a Tequila Sunrise while I sat staring at the small shot glass on the bar in front of me. I just didn’t have the strength to pick it up, maybe if someone just held it to my lips. If I could get a few shots in me then maybe that would numb me to everything that just happened, everything that I knew would happen next.
No doubt this meant war with the church. I guess I kind of knew it was coming, that it was the only way this could possibly end, but I had still been holding onto this tiny sliver of hope. The meeting had essentially taken that tiny sliver, ripped it into tiny pieces, thrown it on the ground, and then set it on fire. We had nothing left to do now but to rally the troops, to call in every able bodied man and woman and attack the church with everything we had.
I mean I guess we could play the long game. A few of us could hide out in Bonham, and each time the church came to town we could try to make contact with each of them. We could be a bird in their ear, telling them everything the church has done, is doing, and then let them run back and tell it. We could simply wait for the people to be ready to rebel, and then we could step in to assist the removal of the elders involved.
Yeah, not gonna happen. I’m about as patient as a kid on Christmas morning. I could sure use a visit from Santa right about now.
Finally reaching for my shot glass, I bring it to my lips, downing it in one swig. Hell fire and brimstone, that burns.
As I try to massage away the burn, I hear yelling out front, followed by the door bursting open. Everyone turns as one to see Tommy rushing toward the tables that had served as our meeting place, and he isn’t alone. Tommy carries a man covered in blood as he rushes to situate him on the table.
Suddenly, everything begins happening very fast. Emily jumps the bar with a black medical bag in hand, rushing to the unmoving man. Mateo yells for everyone to give her space as the General rushes up with several towels. Rose, who had been quietly sitting alone in the corner, rushes through the kitchen door before returning with a pot of clean water.
Up to this point, I have only managed to stand. I haven’t moved another inch. In fact, I’m not sure if I have even taken a breath since I saw the man’s face, saw the cream colored shirt barely recognizable through the blood stains.
Vater Henry.
***
ANNA
It’s been two days since Tommy busted through the front door carrying a bloody and lifeless Vater Henry. Two days, as we waited for him to die. But he hasn’t, and none of us can seem to understand why.
The Vater had a gaping stab wound in his side between two ribs. When he’d been brought in his skin was a sickly white color, making it clear he had lost way too much blood. Emily and the General both had done everything they could, including closing the hole up with almost forty stitches. After that, Emily had sat back on her haunches shaking her head, letting out what I’m pretty sure was her first real breath in the hour it took her to finish.
The General had helped her to stand, and looking around at each of the faces in the room, she’d said, “I’m pretty sure that was all for nothing.” Then she turned and made her way to her room off the back hall.
We had no way to give him blood, which is what the General said he really needed. Without it, he would be relying on his own dying body to replenish what he had lost, and that was highly unlikely. If the blood loss didn’t kill him, infection most certainly would.
He had been unconscious the entire time they worked on him, and then Luke and the General had carried him to the second floor, placing him in the bed located in the same room where I had first met Luke. The same room where I had nearly been raped.
Gosh that seems like so long ago.
After that, Luke had come back downstairs, telling each of us it was only a matter of time, and then he assigned shifts so that someone would always be at the Vater’s bedside.
Everyone was still taking shifts two day later. Through that time, it had certainly been touch and go. In fact, last night I woke up to yelling from downstairs, one floor below me. Luke and I both had ran down the flight of stairs where Tommy had been taking his shift with the Vater. At least eight people were running in and out of the room where he lay on the bed as I heard someone yell, “he isn’t breathing.” Then I’d watched as the General did CPR. It seemed like hours had past, but in what I’m sure was only seconds, I heard the Vater take a ragged breath.
He certainly had a strong will to
