The Lie, page 16
Apparently, we had to figure out a way to stop the father of all evil from taking control of the earth, which meant I needed to be on my A-game.
Wow, my sarcasm knew no bounds.
“Mr. Abshire, before we start discussing a subject matter I have absolutely no understanding about, I’m going to need some liquid courage.”
“Ms. Moncrille? You are going to need all your wits about you, so perhaps an alcoholic beverage is not the best choice to quench your thirst.”
Had we not been discussing the ramifications of my role that was to bring about the end, I would have laughed at the worried look on his face. “I’m making coffee, Mr. Abshire. Would you like a cup?” I rose from the couch and stretched. “I believe a jolt of caffeine is in order. At least for me it is. Never face demons without it—that’s my new mantra. Perhaps I will get that tattooed on my back once this is all over.”
Mr. Abshire managed a feeble smile at my pathetic attempt at humor. The poor man looked as tired as I felt. He seemed to have aged twenty years in the last hour, which seemed only fair, since I had as well. His facial expression was a weird mix of deep sorrow and strange elation, and I dared not think what mine looked like. He had paced around the living room through most of my story but had finally stopped, his face resting against the window frame as he stared out into the dark night.
“That would be lovely, Ms. Moncrille. And please, call me Jacob. Mr. Abshire was my father,” he said as he pulled out his truck keys from his jacket pocket. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to grab my bag from the truck. I have something I want to show you.”
“Agreed, but only if you call me Karmen. Ms. Moncrille is my mother, and I guess I don’t need to explain now why that would bother me,” I retorted. I turned and walked toward the kitchen, then paused when I remembered that the only cups I had were still outside. “Oh, while you’re out there, would you mind grabbing the mugs? Unless you want to drink straight from the pot.”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied, his voice distant, tired. I walked in to the kitchen and heard him exit the front door and clamor down the front steps while I prepared the coffee. In less than sixty seconds, he was back inside, one hand carrying the coffee mugs and the other holding an enormous bag. He set it down with a thud and reached inside.
“Here,” he said, handing me a magazine, “turn to page twenty-four and tell me if you recognize the man there. I’ll rinse these out.”
He began dumping the remaining cold coffee down the sink while I flipped through Time to the page he suggested. Chills ran through me when I looked at the smiling image that stared back. My vision blurred and the events that had been blocked from my memory the night I fell in the bathroom broke free and flooded my mind. The man on the page was the same one that appeared from the white mist that had flowed out from the bathroom wall.
Revulsion hit me and I flung the glossy rag across the expanse of the kitchen. It landed on the floor next to the window with a soft thump. Seeing the terrifying face from my nightmare that actually belonged to the President of the European Council, Kiroly Adamik, rather than a figment of my warped imagination, left no room for even a modicum of doubt over my mental state anymore.
“I take that as a yes?” Jacob said, a look of dread spreading across his face as he watched my response.
I wrapped my arms around my trembling body, unable to respond except with a quick nod of my head. The magnitude of seeing his face had left me petrified.
“Thought so. Kiroly Adamik has been at the top of my list for the last year as the most likely candidate for the Antichrist. He fits all the criteria from lineage to his exemplary speaking skills, plus he has been adamant that a peace treaty in the Middle East be signed. And, he has very close ties to Prince Al Fashawan in Dubai, who has been vocal about securing peace in the Holy Land. I listened to a few of Kiroly’s speeches that he delivered in Europe and they gave me the willies. A lot of the online end times watch groups that I am a member of feel the same way. Oh child, you’re quaking! Here,” he said as he reached for the fresh pot of coffee beside him and filled my mug, “this might help some. Sorry, guess that was insensitive of me, rambling like that. I can’t imagine how seeing his face must have shocked you.”
I grabbed the steaming cup eagerly and clasped my hands around the hot ceramic. I could have jumped inside a pool of hot lava and still not have been able to get warm. The weight of this new reality crushed my spirit to smithereens. Listening to Jacob sound so rational, so sure about things that up until an hour ago, I didn’t believe in had made me nauseous and doubting my touch with reality.
He poured another cup for himself and motioned toward the kitchen table for us to sit down at. When he raised his cup to his lips to take a sip, he sniffed loudly a few times.
“Wait!” he yelled, snatching my drink from my hands, “Don’t drink that!”
“What? Why not?” I said, wiping the hot liquid that had splashed on my hands on my pants.
“Because this isn’t just coffee,” he said, setting the cups on the counter. “I believe, though I’m not one-hundred percent positive, that it’s laced with something else. From the odor, I would say Jimsonweed.”
“What the hell is that?” I bellowed, my nerves so raw that damn near any sound made me jumpy. Jacob’s yelling almost sent me through the roof. I understood how Furby felt when humans made loud noises. It was no wonder that cats were neurotic.
“That’s what it’s called ‘round these parts. Guess it’s probably better known as belladonna. It’s a strong hallucinogenic drug that’s been used, among other things, in various pagan religious ceremonies for centuries.”
I was dumbfounded. “How do you know that’s what it is?”
He dumped the contents of the mugs and the pot down the sink. “I’ve been studying the end times a very long time, Karmen. Part of my studies included the practices and beliefs of numerous religions, even pagan ones. You’d be surprised at how many of them use mind-altering drugs in their ceremonies. Some think they expand the mind, open it up to new possibilities and avenues to connect to the universe with. Others use it as a form of mind control, more specifically, to induce fear into the minds of their members. Makes controlling the masses easier, I guess. Plus, I know the smell. The stuff grows wild around here.”
“That explains why I passed out on the porch. Oh Jesus, my mother fixed the other pot of coffee! Holy crap, she drugged all of us.” I said, fury rising to the surface once more. “That bitch!”
I turned on my heels and strode down the hallway to my bedroom without uttering another sound. Never in my life had I even considered invading my mother’s privacy, but that misplaced loyalty seemed rather humorous now. My hands were quaking with fury as I heaved her travel bag off the floor onto the bed. It took me a few seconds to toy with the latch and fling it open, and when I finally succeeded, my heart nearly stopped. I had braced myself to find the belladonna, but not what greeted my eyes.
Blinking back my stinging tears, I simply gaped at the contents of my mother’s bag. Stacks of neatly wrapped bundles of crisp, one thousand dollar bills filled every conceivable spot inside. The smell of the newly printed cash immediately filled the bedroom and made my stomach flip-flop. No, it wasn’t the smell of the money—it was the stench of betrayal.
I had no idea how much sat crammed inside the bag, but it had to have been hundreds of thousands of dollars. I gulped down the nausea that threatened to overtake me and reached my unsteady hand out and slowly pulled open the side pocket. I hoped I found some explanation for the origins of the money rather than where my pounding heart knew it came from.
Please, let her have robbed a bank. Won the lottery. Publisher’s Clearing House winnings. Anything else but…
I found two slips of paper inside. One was a withdrawal slip from the joint bank account we shared. A receipt for one million dollars dated Thursday afternoon. It had probably been her last stop before her trip here, judging by the time stamp. I forced my eyes to contain my tears as I let the thin paper float silently to the floor, turning my focus to the other one.
The second one hit me like a freight train and quashed all my hope. I gasped for breath as the words seared themselves into my heart. My knees buckled and a wave of dizziness swept over me. I staggered backward and collapsed onto the chair by the door. Dazed, I didn’t have the physical or mental control to acknowledge Jacob’s presence in the doorway.
“Karmen, are you…oh my.”
Holy camolee is more like it, Pastor.
While I was aware of the fact that Jacob was asking me questions after he bent down and retrieved the nails that just slammed the coffin on my relationship with my mother shut, I couldn’t answer him. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the words scrawled in her flowing handwriting that comprised the makeshift press release.
“My brother and I thank each and every one of you for your prayers and thoughts during this incredibly difficult time for our family. The loss of our beloved Karmen has been made all the more heartbreaking by the knowledge that she took her own life, and we missed her cries for help. We take comfort, and we hope that her fans will as well, that she will forever be a part of us through her incredible works. We ask that any donations or memoriam be sent to the Suicide Prevention Center headquarters at…”
With all my intestinal fortitude, I tried to hang on to my anger. I knew if I didn’t, the tears of betrayal and sorrow would overtake me and I might never stop crying. Jacob was still talking when I suddenly jumped up from the chair and ran into the living room. My connection with sanity was broken beyond repair. I unleashed my emotions inside the four walls of the small space.
“You sick, twisted bastards! It’s all true, isn’t it? None of this is some screwed up dream or weakness in my head. You both played me, using me as some pathetic pawn in this game of world domination! Can you hear me? Are you two watching me now through your evil, demented eyes while prancing around naked in the dark waiting for me to come do your bidding?” I roared and grabbed the lamp to my right and flung it against the wall. The dark brown ceramic bottom shattered into hundreds of sharp shards that sprayed across the living room, the cream shade crushed.
“Me, poor little sheltered Karmen that had no clue what lay ahead, what demonic path you two were leading me through. You both led me to believe that none of this was real, that those who believed in an afterlife or deity-driven belief system were fools. Dolts. Simpletons that couldn’t think for themselves and just blindly followed the sheep in front of them! How could you! Uncle Cy! Can you hear me?” I screamed as I spun around and kicked the edge of the couch with such force that the wooden leg broke in half. I picked up a cushion and flung it against the other wall, sending the wall decorations to their shattered death on the floor.
“You’re so pious! Spouting out that bullshit about a utopian society where killing is no more. Where humanity can live together in peace because there would be no religion, no poverty, no worries because we all could live as one cohesive society. Well, your little secret is out now! You stood by and watched my mother kill my father because you wanted to bring about Armageddon! Not only that, but it seems the plan ended by killing me and then faking my suicide! Did you plan on being the right-hand go-to-guy for Satan, Uncle Cy? And what about you Mom?” I yelled, kicking over the end table.
“What are you getting out of this deal…this pact…with the Devil? It must be a pretty damn fine reward since you gave up your husband and your child for it! Were you hoping to be the Mistress of Satan or something? Oh…my…God! I can’t believe this! This is the epitome of hypocrisy. You’ve known all this time—stood by and silently watched while my mind was manipulated by the forces you worship—and didn’t say a word. You two raised me not to believe in this make-believe stuff, but you both are right in the middle of it! And apparently on the wrong side!
I felt my world collapse around me. The firm ground that I had stood upon since I was old enough to walk—the mortar and cement provided by Mom’s and Uncle Cy’s love and values—morphed into quicksand, and I just sank to the bottom, the remaining rubble of my sanity crashing down on top of me.
The uncontrollable wrath had ripped through me and in the space of seconds, I had destroyed the entire living room. Not one picture, knickknack or lamp remained intact. Just like my life, everything lay in a rumpled heap, broken and shattered beyond repair. The bookcase that used to sit in the corner with a copy of all my books had been smashed to pieces. I reached down and grabbed the book closest to me and began tearing the pages out in handfuls, throwing the creamy pages over my head.
“And this? This is the greatest lie of all! These aren’t even my words. Implanted ideas and thoughts that some demonic thing unleashed inside me. Entities that you knew about!”
My breath came in heaving raps, followed by wrenching sobs. I collapsed on the floor and let them pour out of me.
Time seemed to stop, trapping me inside a living nightmare. None of this made sense. It couldn’t be real. I had feared before that I was going insane and had hoped that wasn’t the case. Now that I knew the truth, I wished for insanity. The existence of Heaven, Hell, God, Satan, powers that created and controlled mankind had always been silly, foreign concepts to me. Yes, I had read volumes and volumes of work written by authors that believed in such things, but I had lumped it all into the category of myths and legends. I viewed them the same way I had mythology—all part of made up tales created by the imaginations of the authors that penned them to teach life lessons through the use of deities to control the minds of the masses.
But now, my entire belief system had shifted. I had been forced to confront the fact that, just as Mitchell had said two days ago, my doubts didn’t make the subject any less relevant or real. Obviously, my mother and my uncle believed whole-heartedly and had killed for it, and wanted me to do the same. Whether their actions, or my own, would actually bring about the apocalypse by putting a demonic entity in control of the world, I honestly had no idea. What I did know was that this whole thing was truly happening and that I played a pivotal role in the entire deceitful drama.
A warm hand touched my shoulder, and I heard Jacob kneel down next to me on the floor. His strong arms pulled me into his chest and he held me close. I melted into his embrace and wept like a small child as he held me tight, clinging to his presence like we were the last two people on earth. He never said a word during my emotional breakdown.
Unsure how long we stayed that way on the cold floor of my childhood sanctuary, I finally realized the tears had dried up. The man that I loved and my best friend were out there in the woods, probably just as terrified as I was. Not only did they need me, but apparently, so did the entire human race.
“How do we stop this?” I said into Jacob’s chest, my voice muffled.
“I’ve been praying about that during these last few minutes,” he replied. His voice soft, warm and confident. “And I believe I have the answer.”
I raised my head from his wet, tear-stained chest and looked up at him. His face was a sea of calm, almost ethereal. I felt strength and serenity flow from him into me and clung to it like it was a lifeline.
“And that is?”
“In your vision, you said that you were to make a sacrifice of the one you loved the most, then say the words ‘Let the truth be known’ correct?”
“Yes, that’s right,” I whispered. A chill of fear streaked across my heart at the horrific memory.
He swallowed hard, his warm eyes never leaving mine. “If the sacrifice of the one you love the most will give the lie you wrote meaning, then…”
His response was cut short as the ground beneath us began to quake and the loud chanting began once again. We both covered our ears from the deafening sounds while the floor and walls groaned in protest. Suddenly, the front window blew out and the entire living room was bathed in a red, eerie glow that streamed through the gaping hole. Jacob tried to shield me from the peppering shards of glass, but it was no use. The shattered window sprayed the tiny daggers into the air, littering the floor and the exposed areas of our bodies with crystal clear debris.
Scrambling to my feet, I ran out the front door and out into the yard, stumbling to retain my footing on the moving terra firma. I came to a halt in the middle of the yard and stared at the throbbing haze that danced across the expanse of Bailey Mountain.
“Karmen! Come hither, child. It is time. Come, we await.”
The ground finally became still, the chanting subsiding just as quickly as it had started. Jacob stood right behind me, his breathing labored from running to catch up with me. Cold anger swept over me again, obliterating my fear and filling my veins with ice. Jacob slid his warm hand inside my own and squeezed.
“As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, I have a plan.”
I noticed his bag was slung over his shoulder. He patted it with his other hand as a smile crossed his lips. A faint tinge of pink dotted his cheeks as a fleeting look of shame appeared.
“I didn’t tell you the rest of my dreams, Karmen. The last scene I recall started with the two of us standing right where we are now. So, here’s what we’re going to do…”
As I listened to his own vision on how the events played out in his dream, a twinge of hope started in my chest, then soon spread throughout my body, melting the frozen crimson in my veins with the warmth of courage.
Just like the dream earlier, the orangey light that I knew originated from the altar in the glen served as my guide. The mountainside was quiet. No sounds of birds, bugs or animals greeted me as I walked. Unlike my dream, however, this time, my steps were slow and steady through the dense underbrush. My halting pace was necessary to buy extra time for Jacob to circle back around the crazed devil worshippers and emerge on the other side of the forest. When I had balked at his idea earlier, worried that his presence might be sensed through some form of otherworldly vision, he simply smiled and replied that we had God on our side and not to worry.
