What did he think I was going to do? Could I even do anything? Could I hurt her to get away? I’d never even squished a spider, even though I was scared of them. What a stupid, irrational fear. I was scared of a small bug with eight legs when there were people like this lot in the world.
“Mother/daughter bonding time, huh,” I muttered dryly. “Perhaps after the tour we could drown a litter of bunnies. Or do you only do that to your child?” I was now definitely going too far, but I couldn’t hold back when my stomach tied in knots and I wanted to scream.
Everyone fell silent. Fiona and Donald watched me cautiously.
“I can explain everything, Scarlett, but please keep an open mind,” Fiona said. Hilarious that she would tell me – repeatedly – to keep an open mind when hers was so closed.
“It’s alright,” Donald said when Judith and her family stood open mouthed. “Her mind has been closed off; we have discussed that. This is not a surprise, and we are here to help and not to judge, remember?”
Judith’s husband nodded. “Right, of course. Despite what you may have heard, Scarlett, we are not bad people. You will see that soon.”
I smiled sarcastically and turned to Fiona. “Can we go now?” Standing around listening to that garbage spout out of their mouths was just making me feel ill. I wouldn’t see the ‘light’ or anything else so talking about it was pointless.
Fiona took me past the ten wooden houses and a field before the meadow that was home to different kinds of crops. No wonder Noah only ate ‘real’ and organic food, it was all he’d ever had.
No, don’t think of him.
Ridiculously I still loved who I thought he was and every time I thought about what he’d done it sent sharp, stabbing pains through my heart. He could’ve just befriended me; he didn’t have to make me fall for him first.
In the distance, I saw Bethan and Finn picking what looked like potatoes. I didn’t know where Shaun or Noah were, and I didn’t care.
Ahead of us was a larger wooden building and beside that a small lake that looked out of place for the location. “What’s that?” I asked, lifting my chin to the place in front of us.
“That is our community hall, where we meet most nights. Where we will celebrate being reunited with you.”
“Will you kill me in there, too?”
I wanted to say it as plainly and bluntly as I could in the hope that it would register something in her. She was killing her child. She had to understand that.
“I will show you where the rituals will take place and explain everything fully, so you don’t still believe we are taking your life.”
“You do know how death works, right? And what about the rituals?” I swallowed glass. What were they going to do to me?
“There are seven in total,” she said as we reached the heavy, wooden double doors. “Please, come inside.” I weighed up my options and took a look over my shoulder. There were too many people about for me to run. One against thirty-nine was not good odds. I couldn’t be reckless.
With trembling hands, I stepped inside. Chairs were stacked along one side. It was bare, a few tables dotted around holding large jugs of fresh, wildflowers. Paintings of nature – the meadow, flowers, trees, water – hung on the walls. Glass lanterns hung from the vaulted ceiling.
Everything they’d done was beautifully simple. They were just insane.
“So you come in here to do what?”
“This is where we hold meetings and celebrations if the weather isn’t nice. This is where we give thanks for you on your birthday. My beautiful daughter. Our saviour.”
“Saviour? Who’s threatening you? As long as you’re not off sacrificing people no one’s gonna care that you’re here.”
“If they hadn’t taken you, I would have raised you and you wouldn’t be so disrespectful.”
“If they hadn’t taken me, I’d be dead.”
“You would be at peace, waiting for us to join you. We have the chance to live another life; this is not the only one we can have, Scarlett.”
She believed that totally. She stared straight into my eyes and said it with so much conviction I understood why so many people were sucked in.
“How can you be so sure?” I whispered, purposefully widening my eyes.
The corner of her mouth twitched. She thought that was the first crack: that my mind was beginning to open. Good.
“Faith, my darling. I would not risk my daughter for something I was not completely sure of.”
There it was. My appeal-to-the-mother-in-her plan vanished with her words. Not that I held up much hope for it.
I stood in their pretty barn and knew that my only option was running.
“But what if you’re wrong?”
I felt the tingle of tears and blinked rapidly. She wasn’t going to see me cry. I wouldn’t crumble in front of them.
“I am not. That I can promise you. Now, let me show you the outdoor communal eating area before dinner is served.”
“Will you tell me more about the rituals?”
“Of course. I can tell you some,” she replied, smiling. Some.
I couldn’t work her out. One minute she was cautious of me, suspicious even, and the next she was grinning like I’d just converted to her church of crazy.