Thirty-Six

Joseph dropped to his knees, the tears slipping from his eyes as he watched his sister run back toward town, back to a life that she’d never escape.

Elijah struggled to his feet, gagging on the mist of red he coughed up. The side of his lip was split and blood trailed from his nose, mingling with the smile etched on his face.

“Eden will bring them back,” he crooned. “You will not escape judgment. You will perish because you refused, refused, to see the truth and be saved. What awaits you is not resurrection but damnation.”

Joseph studied his father, not a hint of defeat in his posture, not a glint of anger in his eyes. I had no idea what he was thinking, no clue what he was preparing to do.

“You,” he finally said. “You’re no prophet. No saint. You’re nothing.”

Joseph stalked toward Elijah, his movements slow and steady. He looked at Abram clutching the blade and motioned for him to move. Abram hesitated, then shuffled slightly, his features twisted in confusion.

“You killed my mother. You killed James. You killed Dee’s boyfriend. Eventually, you’ll kill me too.”

Elijah shook his head. “I didn’t kill anyone, Joseph. I gave them a choice, and they chose wrong.”

I could practically see Joseph’s resolve solidifying. He’d spent months planning their escape, trying desperately to preserve Eden’s innocence and his own sanity. Now he’d bathe in his own father’s blood if that was what it took.

“Joseph, please. Don’t do this,” I begged. I felt the desire for revenge pulsing through my body too, craved that sliver of satisfaction I’d get from watching Elijah die a cold, hard death at my own hands. But if we stayed here any longer, we were screwed. I had no doubt Eden would bring the entire town back with her, and I wanted to be long gone when that happened. “Leave him and let’s go.”

“Your God’s will is no match for mine!” Joseph yelled, ignoring my plea. He launched himself at his father, twisting Elijah’s arm behind his back. “I watched you inflict pain on those who strayed. I memorized every sadistic punishment you used on me. And I must say, Father, you taught me well.”

I winced as Joseph gave one last heave upward and a dull crack broke through the thick night air. Elijah screamed, his face contorting in a mixture of shock and pain.

Joseph released him and shoved him to the ground, hovering above his father as if trying to decide what to do next. He made up his mind, and a calm determination settled over him. Elijah had taken his childhood, his mother, and his sister. Now Joseph was going to take his life.

I tried to drown out the sound of Joseph’s attack. Elijah’s grunts had become nothing but a steady stream of gurgling moans. Bone against body. Skin against skin. The punches came one after another. I stopped counting when I hit double digits and started humming to myself, trying to drown them all out.

“Stop.” The word flew from my mouth and Mike swung his head in my direction, as stunned with my plea as me. But I couldn’t do it, couldn’t stand there and watch Joseph pummel his father into the ground. No matter how much I hated this town, no matter how much I wanted this twisted man to pay for Luke’s death, I would not become him. And I sure as hell wouldn’t let Joseph either.

“Joseph, please. Stop.”

Eventually, I heard silence. Joseph’s deathly promises died out, giving way to a terrifying calm. I swallowed hard as I looked at Elijah’s body. His breaths were shallow, his chest rising in jerky movements. He was alive; barely, but he was alive.

“We gotta go,” I choked out. It was only a matter of time before Eden came back with her uncles and Elijah’s loyal following in tow. If we were lucky, if we left now, maybe we’d have a ten-minute head start.

Splatters of blood shone on Joseph’s face, and his eyes were dark but not apologetic. He had years of emotional crap to sort through, and if anyone knew how painfully screwed up that road was going to be, it was me. But now wasn’t the time.

“Can you walk?” I asked Mike. It was obvious he was in pain. He was shaking, and his jaw was clenched so tight I wondered how he could breathe.

“I’m fine, Dee. Just give me a minute,” he ground out and slowly straightened up. “Go get him.”

I followed Mike’s line of site across the street and saw Abram sitting on the ground next to James’s body, mumbling something incoherent. He looked broken, hollow to the point that I doubted he even knew where he was anymore. All I could hear was what sounded like a nursery rhyme traveling in the wind between us.

“Abram!” I said, hoping to jar him back to the present.

“Leave him,” Joseph said. “We don’t have time.”

I knew what he meant. It would take time to get through to Abram, to convince him to leave his brother in the middle of the street and come with us. Precious minutes we didn’t have.