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Hope And Undead Elvis Part 14

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Hope and the Hanging Grove "Did you always want to be a nun?" Hope asked Rae as the younger girl led her around the outer wall of the convent.

"No." Rae's tears had dried up and by the time they stepped out into the afternoon light, she seemed composed. "I only joined last year."

"You were a dancer, weren't you?"

Rae's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"I saw your tattoo and your body as you were changing. I didn't spend all those on the stage and not learn a thing or two. How'd you end up here?"



Rae dropped her voice to a whisper, quiet enough that she herself wouldn't have been able to hear it. "I wouldn't sleep with the club owner, and he beat me up. The sisters took me in and kept me safe."

Hope shook her head. She'd known many girls who'd fallen into the same trap. She'd only avoided it because her first job had been at a club where the owner treated the girls with decency and respect, something Hope had since learned was a rare quality in strip clubs. "Good for them, and better for you," she said.

"Except..." Rae's furtive glances were even making Hope a little nervous.

"Except what?"

Rae pointed to a low stone construction. Bricks had been arranged in a circle with a timber roof over them. Hope recognized that it was an old-fas.h.i.+oned well, but didn't understand what Rae wanted her to see.

Then she saw it.

A mound of earth lurked beyond the well, at the edge of the woods, with only a few spa.r.s.e plants taking root in the recently-disturbed soil. At one end was a simple marker: two pieces of wood nailed together in a cross. "Is that a grave?"

"That's Sister Catherine," said Rae. "Sister Agatha told everyone she slipped and fell down the stairs, but she didn't know I was watching." Her hands shook and Hope squeezed them between her own. "She pushed her. Sister Agatha pushed her down the stairs. And then she went to the bottom and held a pillow over Catherine's face to make sure she was dead."

"G.o.d," said Hope. Was there nowhere safe any longer? She'd have thought a convent of all places would be harmonious.

"They'd been arguing," said Rae. "Arguing about you. Catherine said they should... they should tell the others. Agatha said it would destroy everyone. What did they mean? I don't understand." She looked away.

Hope could tell her spirit had been beaten down and the poor girl was miserable. She might only have been a year or two younger than Hope, but Hope felt decades older. She put a comforting hand on Rae's shoulder. "It's about my baby," she said.

"Are you... are you the mother of the Savior?"

Hope shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe, maybe not. Right now I'm just me." She paused. "What happened to the other sisters."

Rae swallowed. "I'm afraid that they've been committing mortal sins."

"You mean suicide?"

The young nun swayed, as if she were feeling faint. Hope steadied her. "They can't go to heaven if they kill themselves."

"Maybe that's not what's going on."

"Why else would they be disappearing and never coming back? And why else would Agatha forbid us to speak of it?"

"I don't know, Rae."

Hope heard the sound of footsteps approaching through the trees. She grabbed Rae and they shrank back into the lilac bushes along the side of the convent.

Agatha walked out of the forest, holding her habit up so she wouldn't catch the hem on any low brambles. She carried her head high, and the pewter cross around her neck swung back and forth with the rhythm of her steps. She walked right over to the well and stopped there, only a few feet from Hope and Rae. If she turned her head a little to the left, she'd see the two young women hiding in the bushes. Hope held her breath, fearing the hammering of her heart would give them both away.

But Agatha didn't turn. She raised the bucket, took the dipper from its hook, and drank it. Then she splashed the rest of the bucket over her hands, dried them on her habit, and went around the corner to the convent's entrance.

Hope blew out a lungful of air, gasping for more. Beside her, Rae quaked like a frostbite victim. "G.o.d, I thought we were busted."

Rae looked at the corner where Agatha had gone, as if she were afraid the woman would come storming back. She clutched at Hope's hand with a clammy palm.

"What do you suppose she was doing out there in the forest?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to know."

"I do. What if she's got a secret stash of food or something? Whatever it is, she's hiding it from all of you. Doesn't that make you the least bit curious?"

Rae shrugged. "I'm afraid of her. She's a m-murderer."

"You'll be safe as long as you're with me," said Hope. She wanted very much for that to be the truth.

The two young women followed the path which they'd seen Agatha take. It was a faint trail, one which couldn't be seen from the convent grounds unless one knew exactly where to look. It led through a part of the forest where the trees grew close and thick. Sticker bushes reached out, hungry to snag a careless swatch of fabric or unattended limb. Woody flowering vines crisscrossed the path like snares. Just when Hope was about to suggest they head back, she spotted the bright sunlight of a clearing ahead through the trees, and along with it she caught the sickly sweet scent of decaying flesh.

"Jesus," she whispered as they drew closer to the clearing and the stench grew unbearable. The odor made Hope's eyes stream and beside her, Rae retched and spat into the ferns along the path.

They emerged into a clearing alive with insects humming and birds singing cheerful songs as they stripped away the soft tissues from a dozen hanged nuns. The bodies swung to and fro in the gentle breeze and their habits flapped like sails. Most of the victims had their own trees, but one t.i.tan supported three dead women from its branches. Rae bent over and vomited. Hope would have, had her body not been so keen to hold onto any and all nutrients for the pregnancy. Instead, she looked at the dead women in their varying states of decay. Three of them had died recently: the two women missing from the night before and the nun who'd spoken to Hope in the dining room only an hour before. Urine and feces still dripped from beneath her habit into a puddle below her body, and her purple tongue lolled out of her mouth.

"Oh my G.o.d," whispered Hope. She smelled Rae's sour breath and that accomplished what the stench of a dozen dead bodies hadn't managed. She vomited the mouthfuls of gruel she'd taken at breakfast, and then she and Rae clutched at each other for support. "They come here to kill themselves."

"No," said Rae. "It's Agatha. Maybe they come here to die, but look. They're not hanging themselves. There's nothing to stand on. Someone has to raise them up. It's Agatha."

"She's killing them?"

"She's saving their souls." Rae gasped for breath. "Agatha's was forfeit when she killed Catherine. This way they can die saved. She's taking on the sin of murder so they can go to heaven. Dear G.o.d, what has she done? What have they done?"

"She's a monster. She's going to kill all of you in the convent. Every last one."

"It's horrible."

"She's horrible. We have to go back and tell the others."

"But what can we do?"

Hope felt her face grow tight. "Kill her."

"But... our souls..."

"Look, I don't know anything about souls, but a kind G.o.d wouldn't be very pleased with a nun killing His devoted servants just so she can eat a little longer." Hope grimaced. "I'd do it if I still had a gun. This is an awful thing she's doing."

"Maybe if we told everyone else, they'd just make her leave."

"You think you can make Agatha do anything? She's gone bats.h.i.+t crazy, Rae. Normal, sane people don't do this."

Rae cast her eyes downward. "No."

"It's not safe at the convent anymore. If we can't stop Agatha, we'd better just leave."

"But where would we go? The world isn't there anymore."

"Some of it is," said Hope.

Rae looked up at her, a struggle playing across her face. "I won't kill Agatha. I can't do that. And I don't want you to either. We'll tell the others and decide as a group what to do."

Hope nodded. "Okay." They hurried back down the path toward the convent.

As they left the grove behind them, it seemed less and less real to Hope, as if it were a poorly-remembered movie. But then she saw the haunted expression on Rae's face and knew she hadn't dreamed any of it. There were a dozen dead women behind them, and a dozen more dying back in the convent.

As they emerged from the forest, Agatha stepped out of the lilac bushes beside the well-the exact same spot where they'd hidden from her.

"Thought I saw the two of you sneaking around," she said. She was fuming mad underneath her habit and wimple In her hands, she held the Shepherds' pistol, pointed at Hope.

Chapter Twenty.

Hope and the Smoke Hope raised her hands. "That's mine, Sister Agatha."

"Not right now, it's not." The pistol's barrel wavered in the woman's grip. Anger, fear, and indecision competed for control of her face. "Sister Rae, come away from that woman."

Sister Rae bowed her head and retreated to stand behind Agatha. She looked miserable and tears of silent fury ran unchecked down her cheeks to soak her wimple.

"Look, whatever you think, it's a mistake," said Hope. "You're terrifying these women by hanging onto whatever outdated beliefs you still have."

Agatha gave a short, scathing laugh. "Outdated beliefs? What do you even know about it, wh.o.r.e?"

Hope took a slow, deep breath. She would not devolve into screaming or petty name-calling, even if it would make her feel better. That path would only lead to her death, and her baby's death. "I told you not to call me that. Things have changed, Agatha. The world has changed. It's broken. What you thought before isn't valid now. n.o.body's going to come check on you. n.o.body's going to bring you a carload of groceries. The only people who are going to come for you will probably burn this place down and eat you. I've seen it happen."

Sister Rae gnawed on her knuckles as she read Hope's lips. Hope wished she could spare a soothing glance in the young woman's direction, but she didn't dare take her eyes off Agatha for more than a fraction of a second.

"The world is broken, is it? And how would you know? Only G.o.d can undo what He created. How could a common wh.o.r.e like you pretend to know G.o.d's plan?"

"I don't. I don't really even believe in G.o.d. All I know is the world is broken, and maybe this baby I'm carrying can fix it." Hope looked down at her rounded belly. "Would you risk losing that?"

"You shut up. Blasphemer. Wh.o.r.e!"

Despite the nun's righteous fury, Hope saw a flicker of doubt in her face. She lowered her voice in the hope it would fan the flame further. "You don't want to shoot me, Agatha. You're not a killer. You don't want to take two lives, do you?"

"My soul is already forfeit" Agatha's voice grated. "I don't have to kill you. Your baby can be born if you're comatose again. G.o.d may not forgive me my sins, but I pray He will forgive you yours."

"G.o.d knows there's a lot I need to be forgiven for," said Hope. "But staying here is a recipe for either slow death by starvation or faster death at someone else's hands. Of course, you already know about that, don't you? You're killing the sisters one by one so your food supplies will last longer."

"You shut your filthy mouth!" screamed Agatha. "I am saving their souls!"

"By killing them?" Hope was, in spite of her intention, beginning to get angry. "Isn't that what they call cutting off your nose to spite your face?" A hint of tangy wood smoke crossed her nostrils and a chill ran down the middle of her back. The baby fluttered back and forth as if sensing her sudden dismay. "The truth is that I never asked for this baby. But I'm getting used to the idea. The truth is that you should all run away from this place right now. There are bad, bad people coming. Can't you smell it on the wind?"

"You be quiet!" Agatha sounded panicked.

"It's time to stop hiding the truth from the sisters," said Hope. The scent of smoke grew stronger. "The world is over. Done. If you're waiting for G.o.d or someone to come take you to Heaven, well, it's not going to happen. The only thing coming for you is death by fire. Don't keep blinding yourself and your friends."

Sister Rae brought a tree branch down on Sister Agatha's wrist. Hope hadn't even seen the younger woman pick it up. Agatha shrieked and dropped the pistol. Hope cringed as it hit the ground, fearing it might go off, but no report issued from the muzzle. Maybe she'd left the safety on, and Agatha hadn't known how to take it off.

Whatever the reason, Hope didn't waste the opportunity. She lunged forward and picked up the gun. The safety was still on. She popped out the cylinder. Two bullets still nestled in their tubes, awaiting their opportunity to fulfill their deadly missions. She clicked the gun shut again and turned her attention back to Agatha and Rae.

The older woman knelt on the ground, ma.s.saging her wrist and glaring at Hope. Rae huddled beside her, her head in her hands, grieving in unnatural silence.

"What are you going to do, wh.o.r.e? Kill me?" hissed Agatha.

"I told you not to call me that." Hope felt s.h.i.+vers of fear as a tendril of smoke wafted through the trees. "But I'm trying to save your life. All of you. Get the sisters together. Gather up what supplies you can carry, and for the love of G.o.d, let's get out of here."

Agatha scrabbled backward, her eyes never leaving Hope. "No, no," she whispered. She made the sign of the cross. "This is a holy place. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..."

A black bird fluttered down through the forest canopy to perch above Agatha's head as the woman prayed in loud defiance. It regarded Hope with its beady, insolent eyes. "Agatha..." she whispered.

A man, gaunt and leathery, burst from the underbrush. He wrapped his arms around Agatha's mouth and neck and yanked her back into the bushes. Hope caught a glimpse of desperate fear in the woman's eyes before she vanished. It happened so fast Hope never had time to even raise her pistol.

Sister Rae shrieked in wordless terror at Agatha's sudden disappearance. Another bird settled down nearby Rae.

Every one of Hope's nerves screamed at her to run away. Instead, she grabbed Rae's hand. "No," she cried. "You can't have her."

By G.o.d, maybe she couldn't save everyone in the convent, but she would try hard to save Rae. She owed the frightened young girl that much. She hauled Rae onto her feet, trying to look and point her gun in every direction at once. Rae screamed and beat against Hope with her fists in blind terror. Hope risked letting go of her long enough to slap her across the face. "Get a hold of yourself or we are going to die, Rae!"

Rae's mouth shut with a snap, cutting off her scream except for a hoa.r.s.e, whining cry in the back of her throat that Hope found even more disturbing. She grabbed hold of the nun again, this time taking her hand. "Rae, look at me." The nun stared at her, eyes wide. "We're going to get out of here. You and me. But you've got to trust me, okay?"

Rae nodded.

"Which way is the car? Where you found me?"

The nun pointed past the convent into the trees.

"s.h.i.+t. Okay, stay close and don't stop for anything." Hope tugged on Rae and finally the young woman understood and they ran.

Flames were already licking at underbrush, glowing red and orange through gaps in the trees around the convent. Hope could hear women screaming inside the convent and male voices shouting at them. Beneath the anguished cries of the brutalized and the gleeful yells of their a.s.sailants, behind the persistent crackle of fire that seemed to pervade everything, was the amplified voice of the man who led the Righteous Flame, exhorting them to do their utmost to cleanse the world of impurity. Hope knew that she would hear that voice to the end of her days, in her darkest nightmares.

A door banged open and an emaciated man dragged a screaming, naked nun out of it by her hair. Blood stained the inside of her thighs and ran from what looked like bite marks on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The man dashed her head against a large rock and she stopped struggling. He sank down and started to rip at her flesh with his teeth, growling and snarling like a wild dog.

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