Apocalypse Cult (Gray Spear Society) (15 page)

"But I don't care about that," Victor said, "and neither does Ethel. Too quick is better than too slow."

Aaron nodded. "That was quite a fight between you and her."

"The bruises still hurt. Do you know the main reason why Ethel is our boss? Because she is so fucking scary, and that's coming from
me
. Just wait until you see her use those machetes. Then you'll understand what it really means to be a Spear, but enough chatter. We must be close to the target by now. Focus on the mission."

Aaron took out his phone and called Marina. She was riding in the back of the truck with Edward, along with a ton of supplies and equipment. Even though she was just ten feet away, the phone was the only way to contact her.

"How much longer?" Aaron said.

"Five more miles," Marina said. "Stay alert. Hoskins is located very near the Smilin' Fish Campgrounds. According to the website, the campground is next to a lake with cabins and spaces for RVs. I called the manager, and he expects cash payments in advance."

"Sounds like the perfect place for the cult to lay low."

"Yes. Bye."

He closed his phone and informed Victor of the situation.

"I hate camping," Victor said. "Mosquitoes, bad water, and broken toilets that stink like shit. We'll also be caught between the cult and the DEA, not a comfortable place to be. On top of that, we're so far from headquarters that we're pretty much on our own."

Aaron smiled to try to lighten the mood. "Between the four of us, I'm sure we'll be fine."

Victor scowled.

Aaron's phone rang, and he opened it. "Hello?"

"This is Marina. Edward has an exact fix on Hoskins. His location is coming up on the right... now! What did you see?"

"An old farmhouse. Painted red, but a lot of the paint has peeled off. All the windows are shuttered. No cars are visible."

"That must be where the DEA is hiding."

"Good spot for a stake-out," Aaron said. "The entrance to the campgrounds is right across the highway. Hoskins can see everybody coming and going."

Victor kept driving at a constant speed. After a few more miles, he pulled into a rest stop.

He and Aaron got out and went around to the back of the truck. Marina and Edward were already standing on the parking lot, their clothes soaked with sweat. The cargo area of the truck must've been miserably hot. Aaron felt guilty since the cab was nicely air-conditioned.

"We need a plan," Aaron said.

"Here are the priorities," Victor said. "First and foremost, capture Simon for interrogation. Second, gather intelligence about the cult. Determine what covert activities they're engaged in. If we kill a few while we're here, that's a bonus. Third, rescue Frank and Caroline Waters."

To Aaron, the last objective was as mandatory as the others. "And do it while the DEA is watching," he added.

"Yes. We'll start with some reconnaissance. I want to know what we're up against."

"Hoskins knows my face and Marina's," Aaron said. "We can't let him see us."

"We'll wear a disguise," Marina said.

"What about me?" Edward said.

"You can't go in with us." She shook her head. "Too dangerous. Find a hotel and stay there with the truck. If we need your help, we'll call."

He nodded. "I'll be ready."

"We'll enter the campgrounds in another vehicle, one we can abandon if necessary. An RV should do."

* * *

Aaron and Marina sat in the back of the recreational vehicle. The interior appeared to be made of wood and leather, but the wood laminate had broken off in spots, revealing decaying particle board underneath. The "leather" was just textured vinyl, and it had cracked in many places. Odd stains on the walls made Aaron wonder what sins the previous owners had committed in here. The air smelled of bleach, and the tiny toilet in back looked recently replaced.

Marina was putting the final touches on her make-up. She wore a dark brown wig, and she had colored her eyebrows until they were almost black. An ugly, yellow dress covered padding that seemed to add forty pounds to her body. He felt bad for her since she would bake under all the foam in the summer heat. On the other hand, the dress offered plenty of room for weapons.

His own make-up was already complete. He wore a cowboy hat and a mustache that made his lip itch. Marina had helped him bleach his hair until it was almost blonde. He also wore cowboy boots. A few pebbles in the left one would force him to walk with a pronounced limp.

Even with the disguises, they would spend as little time as possible in the open. With the DEA staking out the campgrounds, Marina and Aaron had to assume a federal agent was lurking behind every tree.

Victor called out from the driver's seat, "I'm turning into the campgrounds now."

Aaron's heart beat a little faster. From now on, even the smallest mistake could prove costly.

"You remember our cover story?" Marina said.

"We've been married for four years," he said. "Victor is your brother."

"Names."

"Uh, I'm John Roosevelt and you're Sandra. Your brother is Steve Smith. How do you keep the names straight when they change all the time?"

"You get used to it," she said. "They're like clothes you put on and take off."

Victor stopped the RV. "Stay here. I'm going to pay the manager."

He left the motor running, which meant the air conditioner was still working. Aaron appreciated that greatly. He could feel warmth coming through the wall facing the sun.

"Since we're supposed to be married," he said, "people will expect some affection when we're together. How do you want to play that?"

"I don't mind holding hands and kissing." Marina smiled. "Sounds nice, actually."

"I won't complain."

"But when we do it, we have to be comfortable, like we've been together for years. Any kind of awkwardness will look suspicious."

"Good point." He nodded.

She sat next to him, and before he could guess her intentions, she was all over him. She shoved him onto his back and pressed her warm lips onto his. Their thighs rubbed together. He could smell her heavy make-up and sweat, but it was like an exotic perfume to him. Just when he was starting to relax and enjoy the intimacy, she pushed off.

"That should take care of the awkwardness," she said.

He made sure his mustache was straight. "I have a little awkwardness left. We should do it again just to be safe."

"Not now. This costume is too uncomfortable."

"Later?" he asked.

She gave him a hard stare. "Aaron, I've been thinking. A little fooling around is fine, but we can't have a relationship."

"Why not?"

"I sometimes have to sleep with other men to get information. You can't turn into a jealous lunatic whenever that happens. In general, romance and business don't mix well. Especially, our business."

He grunted. It was a valid point, and he had no good answer for it.

"And I'm trying to protect you," she added. "What if I die?
Legionnaires
usually don't live to a ripe old age. It's much easier to lose a co-worker than a lover."

"That's true," he said, "but if you're afraid to love, then you're afraid to live."

"Did you read that in a fortune cookie?"

"That's not fair. I was attracted to you when we first met, and those emotions have just become stronger. I know you feel something, too. It's like we were always meant to be together. We'll just have to deal with the consequences."

"Aaron, please, try to be professional...."

Victor returned to the RV and sat in the driver's seat. "Look at these." He tossed a couple of brochures back.

Aaron took one and saw it was a map of the area. There was a large lake with a thin strip of forest along the west side. The campgrounds were just west of the forest, away from the lake. The southern half was reserved for RVs and campers, and the northern half had cabins for rent. The property included most of the lake, and fishing boats were available, according to the brochure.

"I asked the manager about the Church of One Soul," Victor said. "He confirmed they're here. They rented most of the cabins for an entire month, cash in advance. He seemed pretty happy about the situation."

He drove to an RV parking spot. It was just a painted rectangular area in the middle of a large, almost empty parking lot. The lack of cover concerned Aaron. It would be impossible to come and go without being seen.

"We're here," Victor said. "Let's introduce ourselves."

The three of them gathered outside the RV. The pebbles in Aaron's left boot were already causing him pain, but he would suffer in silence. He casually held Marina's hand, which was damp with sweat from the heat. The razor sharp tips of her fingernails tickled his wrist.

They walked north. The rental cabins were made to look like log cabins, but the walls had the sheen of plastic instead of real wood. Each cabin had a small air-conditioning unit sticking out of a window. Broken concrete walkways wove between dense clumps of weeds. Heat rising from the parking lot made the entire scene shimmer.

"Five star accommodations," Aaron said.

Marina and Victor glanced at each other.

"What?" Aaron said.

"We're walking into enemy territory," Marina said softly. "Instead of making jokes, focus on learning the terrain. Memorize escape routes. Plan your cover for when the shooting starts."

"You're sure we'll have to fight them?"

She nodded. "Every mission ends in violence."

Just a few cult members were visible in their green robes. They walked quickly from cabin to cabin, perhaps to escape the heat.

The rows of cabins went right to the edge of the forest, where cover was plentiful. If he had to run for his life, that was the direction to go. There were a few dumpsters with clouds of flies buzzing around them. The metal walls of the dumpsters would stop a bullet, but if he hid behind one, he would risk getting flanked.

"I've been watching the woods," Victor said, "and I haven't seen any sign of the DEA."

"I'm sure they're being very careful," Marina said. "Maybe they set up hidden cameras."

Aaron let go of her hand. Sweat was making the experience unpleasant.

They stopped a female cult member with a shaved head as she hurried along one of the walkways. She looked up with a surprised expression. She was young, certainly just a teenager. Green stars were tattooed on her forehead and cheeks. There were dark circles under her eyes.

Victor stuck out his hand. "Hi there! I'm Steve! What's your name?"

The girl shook Victor's hand. "They call me Pestilence."

"That's an odd name!"

"It's one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse."

"Oh." Victor nodded and furrowed his brow. "I've seen a lot of guys and gals dressed like you around here."

"We're the Church of One Soul." Pestilence fumbled with her robes for a moment and fished out three pamphlets. She gave them to Victor, Aaron, and Marina.

"Is that one of them crazy cults you hear about?" Victor said.

"No, not at all!" Pestilence answered urgently. "We follow the true gospel. The angel Sraosha delivered the Word unto Simon, and he delivered the Word unto us."

"What is this gospel?"

"That the destiny of man is perfect unity. To achieve true power and enlightenment, we must have one mind, one voice, and one soul. Individual desire is the root cause of all our failures, and it must be eliminated."

Aaron remembered Brittany Waters making similar statements.

"That sounds reasonable enough," Victor said.

Pestilence cracked a slight smile. "It becomes self-evident when Simon talks. He is such a great teacher, a worthy vessel of divine truth. His words seem to fall straight from Heaven. Being here, so close to him, is a perpetually joyous and humbling experience."

"What do you think, Sis?" Victor asked Marina.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Don't people have the right to do what they want with their lives?"

"No!" Pestilence declared. "Do people have the right to be lazy, greedy, and corrupt? Do people have the right to drain Mother Earth of all her natural resources? Do people have the right to rape and kill children for their personal pleasure?"

"I guess I never considered the child rape aspect."

"See that?" Pestilence pointed at an ant crawling across the dirt. "No questions, no rebellion. An ant knows only selfless service for its entire life. That's our ideal."

"But an ant isn't intelligent."

"Intelligence is a curse! Simon teaches us to put aside our own thoughts. We must open our minds and receive wisdom unconditionally. It has been difficult, but I've learned to follow without hesitation, and now my life is bliss. Doubt and critical thinking no longer cloud my thoughts..."

Pestilence stopped talking suddenly when another cult member approached. He was an older man. Blue stripes decorated the sleeves of his green robes, and the material shimmered in the sunlight like silk. The vivid tattoos on his face were green flames wrapped around his eyes.

"What's going on?" he said in a tone of suspicion.

"I was just delivering the true gospel to these good people," Pestilence said nervously.

"Oh?"

Victor put out his hand. "Hi there! I'm Steve! Glad to meet you! What's your name?"

"Salt. What are you doing here?"

"We're on vacation."

"No," Salt said. "What are you doing
here
? Talking to
her
?"

"Just being friendly," Victor replied with a vacant smile.

"Hmm."

"How is the fishing? That lake looks great!"

"I don't fish." Salt narrowed his eyes.

"Too bad." Victor shook his head sadly.

"How long are you staying here?"

"A week. I love camping! But now I'm also interested in your little church, and I can't wait to hear more."

Aaron and Marina nodded enthusiastically.

"Well..." Salt said.

"Please?" Victor put his hands together. "You can't just show us the horse without letting us ride it."

Salt scratched the stubble on his scalp. "Simon is giving a service tonight. You may listen to his opening remarks, but then you must leave. You are not permitted to observe our sacred rituals until you prove yourselves worthy."