Chapter Eight
Calee
I'm awake shortly before the sun, just staring at the ceiling of our cabin. My stomach is roiling and I feel like I'm going to throw up. I'm doing all I can to fight off the nausea that's gripping me tight. I stifle the moan that threatens to escape my lips. I don't want Ruth to know that I'm sick again because given the fact that I've been sick first thing in the morning every day this past week, I know it will only lead to questions I don't want to answer. Questions I don't even want to contemplate.
Her words from that first day come back to me. Maybe you're pregnant. At the time, it was an offhanded remark that I'd just brushed off. Even though I've been sleeping with Danny for a little while now, I didn't think it was possible. We're always careful and always use condoms. It's not possible that I'm pregnant.
Is it?
I'm scared and I need to talk to Danny. If it turns out I am pregnant – I don't know what I'm going to do. I know that if I'm pregnant, Raymond and his Shepherds would do horrible things to me. They might even kill me. I once heard a story about one of Raymond's brides – after she'd been set aside – getting pregnant by a boy in town.
She disappeared.
From what I've heard, Raymond explained it away. He told his flock that she'd been exiled for her sins and that she'd been sent to live with another family to have her child – well away from the Ark, where she couldn't contaminate others with her poisonous sins. The person who told me that story, an older woman named Clea, didn't believe it for a minute and was sure the woman had been killed and her body buried somewhere on the compound.
I don't want to end up that way. Dead and buried in some shallow, unmarked grave. I don't want to end up dead at all, actually. Which means, I really need to talk to Danny. And that means, I am going to need to come up with a reason to go into town.
Our movements are strictly monitored by Raymond and the Shepherds. We must have approval to leave the compound and are sometimes escorted into town – depending on how paranoid Raymond is feeling at the time. Most of the time, he's able to maintain his composure. He knows his followers need the illusion of calm and stability. And being that he's a very capable chameleon, he gives them that.
But every once in a while, his grip on his calm slips. I've seen him fly into a rage and it's terrifying.
The Ark is raided by the local authorities pretty regularly. Sometimes, even the FBI and the ATF show up once in a while too. Outside of the compound, Danny tells me that Noah's Children is thought of as a cult. And Raymond, being the fanatical religious leader, is often compared to Jim Jones or David Koresh.
But if they ask me, I can tell them that Noah's Children – and Raymond – are so much more than that. Something so much scarier. Something so much more dangerous.
The authorities know there are illegal weapons on the compound, but they've yet to find them. I really wish there was a way for me to tell them where to look, but I can't without exposing myself to risk. I'm not even supposed to know. I accidentally stumbled into the underground bunker one day.
Raymond is smart and simply uses religion as a pretext to keep all of his followers obedient and in line. When I was still in his good graces, I once overheard him telling his Shepherds that religious fanatics are the easiest people to control because they're the most weak-minded – which is why they prey on them. He doesn't know I eavesdropped on that conversation, but it's something that's stuck with me for a long time.
I remember that it was the first time I saw through his mask of piety and saw Raymond for what he really is – a violent, evil man who preys on the weak. I never wanted to be part of this cult – I was forced into it. And if I wasn't so afraid of dying, I'd run away.
“You up?”
The sudden sound of Ruth's voice startles me and pulls me out of my thoughts. I clear my throat and sit up on the edge of my bed, doing my best to push down the feelings of nausea that welled up within me.
“I'm up,” I reply.
Ruth slips her shapeless gray dress over her head and sits down on her bed to put on her shoes. I take the dress hanging in the peg next to my bed and put it on. We have to get over to the kitchen to help start making breakfast for the community. It's not my favorite thing to do, but it's way better than the back-breaking work of tending to the gardens.
I tie my shoes and stand up, smoothing the wrinkles out of my dress. I feel the bile rise up in my throat and taste the vomit in my mouth. Not wanting Ruth to know – or suspect – anything, I force myself to swallow it all down.
“I'm going to ask Raymond if I can go into town today,” I say. “Do you need me to pick anything up for you?”
“What are you going into town for?” Ruth asks. “Normal shopping day isn't until Thursday.”
“I need a few – personal items.”
Ruth nods as if she understands. “Come, we need to get over to the kitchen.”
I follow her out of the cabin and across the compound to the kitchen, where I begin my chores for the day. This is what life is like for one of the Fruitless – an existence of endless chores and serving others. I hate it. More than I can even possibly express.