Hailstone (10 page)

“And in an unprecedented move, Preacher, I believe you are allowing 3CE cameras in to record the event?” Rebecca blinked at the camera.

“Yes, that is correct,” Preacher said. “The exorcism will be televised live to Hailstone and other cities around the country that receive this station.”

“Well I for one won’t be missing that,” Rebecca said.

Magda pressed a hand over her mouth and bolted into the kitchen. Her stomach heaved, but nothing came up because it was empty. She dry-retched over the sink. Her hands shook where they gripped the steel edges. She could barely think. This was worse than being hungover. Worse than a nightmare.

Zack came into the kitchen like a fly she couldn’t shake. He leaned against the sink beside her and smoothed back her hair. “Everything will be okay after tomorrow,” he said. “You’ll see, Magdalene. Preacher will return the light to your soul. I will be there to help you every step of the way. Just surrender yourself to God and to Preacher and all of this will end.”

“Fuck God, fuck Preacher, and fuck you, Zack Pitt.” Magda could not stop her voice shaking. She kicked Zack in the shin, bolted to her bedroom and locked herself in.

Sunday

When she finally slept, Magda dreamed she was being smothered. She hadn’t been able to control the shaking of her hands, neither awake nor asleep, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that was as much the withdrawals from the alcohol as the fear.

The sensation of cold woke her up. She opened her eyes and screamed because Preacher leaned over her like an avenging ghost.

He looked hard into her face. “You’re right,” he said over his shoulder. “She’s truly in the grip of evil now. We were almost too late.”

Magda took a deep breath to calm herself. “Get out,” she said.

Preacher thrust his bible in her face. “You are the one who will get out, Satan.”

Magda ground her teeth. This wasn’t going to be a nice day. She could tell already.

“Get up. Get dressed,” Preacher said. “In proper clothes. We’ll be back for you in five minutes.”

He slammed out of the room after Zack.

Magda took a deep breath. He’d drag her to church in her pyjamas if she didn’t dress. But as for his proper clothes, she didn’t think so.

She stood up. For the first morning in a long time, she didn’t feel ill. Wow. So the hangover had cleared.

She scowled at the broken lock on her bedroom door. Then she went to her closet and tore it apart. They hadn’t gone in there; she had a full bottle of vodka, intact, but she resisted the urge to tear off the cap and pour it down her throat. She set it aside, next to the two valium they’d also failed to uncover. Then she tore out every conservative skirt and collared blouse she’d ever been forced to buy. She threw them in a pile on the floor and put on a pair of fashionably torn up jeans she’d never before dared to wear, and a fitted black top with a long sleeve on one side and no sleeve on the other. Adam’s boots were piled in a corner; she put those on too. She fluffed her hair in the mirror and applied bright red lipstick and thick black eyeliner. Preacher wasn’t going to get an inch of submission. Not an inch.

She took the bottle of vodka and poured it all over the pile of church clothes. No doubt they’d taken every last one of her cigarettes, bastards, but she had a cigarette lighter in her closet. She knelt by the pile of clothes and held the flame to the alcohol
-soaked fabric. At first she thought it wasn’t going to work, but by the time the hot metal had burned her thumb, the fabric caught. It went up with a whooshing sound. Blue flame crawled over the clothes.

The door burst open. Preacher yelled, grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the fire. “Zachary, put that out before she burns the house down!” he yelled. He pushed her into the hall. The crack of his palm across her face made her see stars. Magda collapsed back against the wall, but he didn’t even allow her a minute to recover. He closed his hand around her upper arm like a vice and steered her out of the house.

Magda watched the floor go by. It needed cleaning. Maybe Zack would do it while he was busy being Preacher’s house bitch. She saw feet. Ah. So Preacher had his faithful along to assist him in case she tried to escape. She should escape. She’d sworn never to let him do this to her again, but so long as she stayed in Hailstone, he’d just do it again and again and again until she was a robot like the rest of them. There was no way she’d settle for that.

Hands reached out to touch her when she went by. People blathered about Jesus. She threw them off. Preacher steered her out of the door; grass went by under her feet. Then road, then footpath. Then they were on the red brick paving outside the church.

Magda roused herself. She looked around at the staring Congregation, who looked back like she was the Sunday morning sideshow. She saw the cold yawning church door and went dead weight on Preacher. “No,” she said.

“Yes, Satan.” He jerked on her arm.

It hurt, but she refused to move. “For Christ’s sake, Preacher, I’m not possessed, I’m angry, and you are not going to put me through this again.”

“You dare to speak the name of the most high in vain?” Preacher motioned to the nearest three men.

Magda jerked away from him and ran, but got nowhere; the men surrounded her. They linked hands and herded her toward the church door like an animal. That really made her blood pound. “You’re the sheep,” she hissed at them.

“Lambs of God,” Preacher said. “They are doing this through Christian love.” He pulled her into the church.

The Congregation followed. Where they were normally noisy before a service, today the silence pressed down like storm clouds. The high thin voice of a child was quickly hushed. Magda felt sick. What kind of parent would take their child to an exorcism? She spotted the 3CE cameras near the altar. God, he’d been serious.

Zack appeared behind the pulpit. He stepped forward to hold her on one side, and one of the lambs of God took her other arm. She stared at the red carpet that covered the dais.

The church pews were soon full. People packed into the gallery. Even the aisles filled up. Christ, the hall was huge and it was always full, but never this full. She glared at the people in the front row. They clutched their bibles and murmured prayers.

Preacher got up on the pulpit and talked at them. She didn’t listen. She hadn’t listened to him up there since she was about twelve years old and had figured out for the first time he was full of shit. She closed her eyes and sagged, let the two men support her weight for a minute. The anger that had carried her here gave way to hunger and thirst. Her throat was on fire. Her legs felt like they’d collapse under the slightest breeze. She wanted a cigarette. She wanted one so badly she’d have clawed Zack’s eyes out for it, given half a chance.

Preacher came down from the pulpit and stood in front of her. He held up his bible like a weapon. It was a weapon, but not like he thought; the thing could hurt when he smacked you in the ribs with it. She remembered. A camera whirred right behind him.

“Who are you?” he said. “Tell me your name.”

“Magda,” she replied. “Your daughter, or had you forgotten?”

“Not her,” Preacher said. A microphone at his lapel carried his voice to the whole
Congregation. “I want to talk to Satan.”

“Talk to yourself then!” she yelled.

Preacher pushed his bible into her chest. “Satan you have no claim on my daughter! Show yourself!”

Magda gasped for breath. She looked over his shoulder into the camera. “If anyone out there is watching who isn’t completely insane, help me!” she yelled. “Please help me!”

Preacher got in her face. The bible bore down on her forehead. “They won’t help you, Satan!” he roared. “Nobody can help you now! You have no right to this woman and you know it!”

Magda screamed. She couldn’t help it, the pressure on her head bent her back until she thought she’d fall, and only the two men holding her up stopped her.

“Say it!” Preacher yelled. “Say you have no right!”

“I have no right!” Magda screamed, before she could stop herself playing into his hands like that. She couldn’t stand the pressure on her head. Her whole brain throbbed out of control
. She’d do anything to get out of this.

There was a pause. The bible disappeared. She opened her eyes, relieved it was all over so quickly. A young man whispered in Preacher’s ear. “What?” Preacher said. He didn’t sound impressed.

The man whispered again and gestured at the doors. Magda looked out into the Congregation. A few in the front row shuffled their feet. Many in the crowd glanced frequently at the doors. There was a noise outside that sounded like chanting. Some of the people crowding the aisles weren’t wearing muppet collars and suits. She looked closer, distracted from Preacher. “Help me!” she yelled. “Somebody help!”

Preacher put his hand in her face. “Quiet, Satan! I haven’t finished with you!”

“Get your religion out of my face!” she screamed.

Preacher’s hand rose. She cowered. The crowd surged.

“No more church control of politics in Hailstone!” somebody bawled from the crowd. “Stay out of our social lives!”

Preacher turned toward his faithful, hand still in the air. “What?”

Magda grinned.

“No more church control!” yelled another voice in the crowd. People repeated it. The chant rippled through the aisles. The Congregation faithful got to their feet; some started to push their way toward the door.

“Get out of my church!” Preacher roared. His voice cracked.

Part of the crowd rippled and knocked the people around them off balance. Magda watched, awed, as the sea of people below her surged like a wave breaking on rocks. She looked left and right; Zack and the Lamb of God stared at the scene, apparently dumbstruck. She jerked her arms away from them, ducked Preacher and fled into the crowd.

A man wearing a black hoodie and track pants detached himself from the mob and grabbed her hand. “This way sweetie,” he hissed.

Magda followed him around the edges of the chaos toward the door. “Adam! What are you doing here?”

“Do you like my disguise?” He cackled in her ear. “You’ve got a lot of fans after last night, Mags. Did you really try to shoot Preacher?”

“Yeah, but my aim sucked.” Magda ducked a knot of frightened Congregation women and emerged into the sunlight with Adam. “We’re getting out of here, right?”

“Just as soon as Kat’s finished taking photos.” Adam put a finger under her chin and studied her face. “Are you okay?”

“Far from it.” Magda blinked in the brightness.

“Here she is, come on.” Adam pointed to a station wagon parked across the road. Kat waved at them.

Magda glanced over her shoulder, but the crowds seemed enough to keep Preacher and Zack inside. She bolted across the road with Adam.

“Get in.” Kat fired the ignition.

Magda got into the passenger seat. Adam leaned in the window. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “You be careful now Mags. Thanks Kat darling. Can’t wait to read the paper on Monday.” He winked and moved away.

Kat turned in a tight circle, avoiding stray knots of people who spilled onto the road, and headed for the highway faster than the speed limit permitted.

Magda put her head in her hands to stop it spinning. “I appreciate this,” was all she could think of to say.

Kat’s voice was crisp. “I’ve never been so appalled in my life at the behaviour of people claiming to be Christians.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to hospital to get checked out. You look like shit.”

“Gosh, and I got dressed up and everything.” Magda rested her head on the seat and closed her eyes. Her pounding blood hadn’t caught up to the fact help had come. The sick, cold weight on her ribs was the certainty Preacher would catch up to her again and finish the job. She slipped into a daze for a while, only to start awake when the car came to a halt.

“I have to tell you about some things before they find me again,” she said.

“They won’t find you,” Kat said. “We can talk later. Right now you’re seeing a doctor.”

Magda didn’t argue. She followed Kat into the hospital and waited quietly in the sterile brightness until a nurse took her to a bed and drew the curtains around it. Kat went with her, at her insistence, and took a seat beside the bed.

The doctor arrived within ten minutes. She was a middle-aged woman who looked as though she’d been on her feet for a day already.

“Magdalene McAllister?” she said.

Magda flinched. “Magda,” she said. “Please.”

“I’m Doctor Baker.” She put the clipboard on the trolley and got out a stethoscope. “What seems to be the problem? How did you get this bruise?” She managed to put the stethoscope on Magda’s chest and examine her face at the same time.

“Preacher hit me,” Magda said.

Kat shifted. The doctor put away her stethoscope and inflated a blood pressure cuff around her arm. The tightness reminded her of Preacher dragging her down the road. She tensed.

“Preacher?” The doctor pursed her lips at the readout on the machine. “Are you from that
awful church?”

“Preacher’s my father.” Magda knit her fingers. She didn’t want to be here anymore.

“Does he hit you often?”

“Yes.”

“I’m just going to do an examination and see if anything’s damaged. Lie down please.”

Magda lay down and waited. The doctor’s cold fingers poked and prodded. Then she shone a torch in front of her eyes. “Well,” she said, once the torch was flicked off, “you’re in reasonably good shape. No concussion. A little dehydrated. You need to bring your blood pressure down or you’re going to risk some serious problems. Are you on any medication?”

“Valium.”

“When did you last have any?”

“Yesterday. Or the day before. I don’t remember. Preacher took it away and said I wasn’t to have anything before the exorcism.” Magda sighed and stopped talking before she could embarrass herself further.

The doctor pursed her lips again and looked disapproving. “When did you last eat or drink?”

“I don’t know.”

“I want you to stay here under observation for a little while, Ms McAllister. I’m going to put you on a drip to try and bring your blood pressure down. I’ll send someone in with some water for you to drink. I want you to drink it slowly. I’ll be back in a little while.”