The Rapture of Omega Page 21

  “No problem. I just heard the news about the cult. Where do you think they are?” She set a file down and looked at me.

  “I have no idea, but I’m grabbing the case files to try and figure that out. They used the whole standoff as a decoy to distract us from something, but what?” I turned to leave. “Michael is on his way right now, so I suspect we’ll go over the case together later.”

  “I heard about Jax Zapone. Believe it or not, the prosecutor’s office is standing behind the felony obstructing. With his knowledge of the subpoena and such, they decided to take their chances. What a fucking dumb-ass.”

  “Yeah, he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Amazing who’s passing the bar exam these days. I think he knows where they are, I really do. All I can conclude is that his time spent in jail or his license revocation doesn’t compare to what Illeana has set up for him financially—it’s got to be in the millions. If it wasn’t for that, he’d be singing like a bird.”

  “Or he could be scared of her,” Naomi offered.

  “I think it’s all about the money with him. An arrogant male-chauvinist like that wouldn’t dare let a woman like Illeana push him around.” I thought for a second. “You don’t think he’s fucking her, do you?”

  Naomi made a face. “Eew. The visual alone makes me nauseous. I hope not, but anything’s possible, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ll pass on the visual as well. Have a good evening.” I waved as I walked through the door.

  “Just let me know what you come up with.”

  After gathering my files, I stopped at the grocery store to pick up some things for dinner. Of course, the lines were horrendous and while I waited I noticed the cult was all over the news and magazine headlines. I grabbed a paper at the checkout line and rushed to my car. I put the groceries in the backseat and threw the newspaper on the passenger seat next to me. According to the clock on my dashboard, it was almost 7:45 P.M. Shit! Rena would be on the verge of sheer panic by now and Michael would most likely be home soon—if he wasn’t already there. As I backed out of the parking space, I glanced at the newspaper again and slammed on my brakes. It wasn’t the headline that made my nerves come alive; it was the date—August twenty-fourth. At that precise moment, it all clicked.

  The faces of the children in the cult flashed before me, then the barn, then the murder scene. The numbers written on the wall, Illeana laughing, back to the children’s faces, the standoff, the ritual, Francesca turning the corner, the journal, Illeana, “…only when our souls return to Eden, our eternal home, will we be forever cleansed.”

  I understood now.

  It was ten minutes until eight. If they had performed the ritual at eight this morning, I was entirely too late. I was anticipating they would wait until dark, not wanting to chance getting caught. I cranked my wheel in the opposite direction, hit the gas, and began driving toward Illeana’s farm.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Illeana constantly spoke of the coming, declaring the day was approaching and would be here soon. The numbers O-800-24 stood for something else; Illeana was right, I hadn’t figured it out. Omega was coming on August twenty-fourth, the apocalypse in their minds, the rapture—Omega’s rapture. I merely guessed at the eight o’clock time since it coincided with the rest. I didn’t know at that point what she was planning, but she had used the standoff to distract law enforcement. She had it planned perfectly. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that the cult had hidden out in the cabins, but they left the day Illeana purposely sent one of the members to the store, knowing he’d be seen.

  They returned to their own Eden to prepare without interruption. It was brilliant, really. But there was something Illeana hadn’t planned on—me.

  I didn’t know what I was driving into, but I pushed down harder on the gas as I noticed the clock nearing eight. I was still fifteen minutes away and it was 7:59 P.M. The sun was setting low on the horizon, and I had less than an hour of light left, if that.

  Nearing the long driveway, I felt my pulse quickening. The large and looming pines blocked out the setting sun, creating an ominous atmosphere that could only be described as menacing. Every noise I made was magnified a thousand times, at least in my own mind. The slight creak of my car door opening echoed throughout the valley, ricocheting its way back to my own ears, putting every nerve in my body on high alert. Otherwise, it was distressingly quiet. No birds singing their good-night songs, crickets chirping their awakening melodies, nor the familiar sounds of the animals in the forest: no deer, no raccoon, no howling coyotes. Silence. Dead silence.

  As I neared the end of the driveway, the opening into the farm grounds, I drew my gun from its holster and prepared.

  I had expected to see the large cult huddled on the grounds, or lights within the barn, but there was nothing. It was the same as when I left the day of the murders. I stood, watching, waiting, and praying. Could I have been wrong?

  Impossible! I walked slowly toward the farmhouse. They were here, somewhere near, maybe even watching me now. I knew not to question a familiar instinct that, for fifteen years, saved my life and the lives of others. In my heart of hearts, I was a cop, and a damned good one. I had learned to trust myself, knowing all too well how the alternative could prove fatal.

  Thunder rumbling in the distance was a disturbing warning that my time to search the grounds was limited.

  I quickly made my way through the main house before heading to the barn. With the bodies gone, the smell had dissipated a great deal, but it still lingered, tickling my nose.

  After confirming the makeshift gun-storage cellar was empty, I began to slowly scan the edge of the surrounding woods. It was dark now, and I stood still—no light, no sound. If you can imagine what it feels like to close your eyes in a crowd of a thousand people and pretend you are alone, that’s what I felt like. I felt eyes on me from every direction within the woods. I felt naked, violated, but couldn’t see or hear a living, breathing soul. At that moment I was terrified.

  If they ambushed me, I would be outnumbered. No one knew I was here. But I would fight. I would fight harder than I had ever fought in my life. If they attacked, I would die, no doubt, but I’d be damned if I didn’t go down fighting for the people that no longer have a voice.

  I would fight for my children, Michael, Kelly Dixon, Benjamin Rader and his family, Edward Honeycutt and the family that prayed for him. I would fight for the families of the cult members that fought their own battles to bring them back, for Rebecca Allen, who spent a lifetime seeking justice for a stolen soul, and, most importantly, I would fight for Lola, my daughter.

  Taking a deep breath, I began a slow walk toward the edge of the woods, still not entirely convinced anyone was there, but preparing for the worst. I was only about ten feet away when I felt my phone vibrate. Michael.

  “Where in the hell are you? Rena is on the verge of a breakdown because of dinner being so late,” he laughed. “It’s almost nine o’clock, you know how she gets!”

  “Michael,” I whispered, “listen to me. I’ve found the cult.”

  There was a short period of silence before Michael unleashed. He’d been down this road before, and really didn’t want to venture there again.

  “I’m trying to do my best to stay calm, but did you just say you found the cult?” He was quiet, but obviously unnerved.

  “Yes, they’re back at the farm—”

  “Let me guess, you’re there, right?” he interrupted, growing angry.

  “Yes, you don’t understand, I figured it out at the last minute—”

  “I’m on my way, right now. Call for backup! Fuck, CeeCee! Haven’t you learned by now? What is it going to take? Stay there and wait until other units arrive!”

  I heard the soft music in the distance, coming from the river, and knew at that precise moment what I had missed. No, I wasn’t being watched now. The members were clearly too busy.

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I can’t wait—I think we’re out of time.”

>   Chapter Forty-Six

  I quietly shut my phone before Michael could protest. He needed to call Naomi and the others to get here quickly; he couldn’t do that if he was lecturing me.

  The music was coming from the area of the tents near the river but it seemed to echo all around me. Illeana no doubt had several members keeping guard, so I thought it best to stay off the trail several feet. I would work my way down to the river, far from the tents, cross it, and approach from the other side. I didn’t think they would expect that. It was warm, and the sweat began pouring into my eyes. My mind played images of what could possibly be happening, but nothing prepared me for what I was about to encounter.

  I walked slowly and with determination, careful not to make any noise. With each step, my portable radio clanked against my belt, reverberating throughout the woods. I suppose I could’ve gotten on my radio and started units down here, but I was worried the other radio traffic would be too loud and draw Illeana’s guards my way. Michael would take care of it.

  Wiping more sweat from my brow, I took another step. The thunder was moving closer, becoming louder, and commanding me to take cover before it unleashed its fury. Unfortunately, Mother Nature was about to take on Illeana Barron, and, honestly, I didn’t know who would win—God versus evil in its most human form. I took another step.

  The music grew louder as I stepped closer. Holding my gun in front of me, I noticed my hands were trembling.

  hade made tu e ma cora…

  hade made tu e ma cora…

  haye, waye! haye, waye!

  The music blared now, chanting in its strange language that I couldn’t quite make out. I almost swore I had heard the song before in an airline commercial, but shrugged the thought out of my head. I was at the river’s edge now, and found a shallow rock-covered area to cross. Quickly, I leaped over to the other side and found a similar trail that looped around before ending farther down the bank. I followed it.

  A bend in the trail opened up to a full view of the riverside and tents. I suppose I should’ve waited right there until Michael and the others arrived, but suddenly I heard screaming, the screaming of children, loud enough to punch through the deafening music.

  With my heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings, and sweat burning my eyes, I stepped out onto the trail and looked down at the tents.

  It couldn’t be possible.

  The bodies. I felt my legs start to give. The children, clutching each other. Their red faces and screams. I fell to my knees, unable to move. The bodies. The small blond boy. I felt the bile begin to rise and before I knew what was happening, I was vomiting—violently. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe. My eyes were shut and I opened them. They were still there. At least a hundred bodies.

  “In the water you shall enter from earth and emerge in Eden!” Illeana screamed through a megaphone, standing at the riverbank. “We will see you soon, my brothers and sisters!”

  They were drowning each other. All of the surviving members, dressed in the silky white robes covered with roses, stood in line waiting to approach the riverbank. At their turn, they would voluntarily walk into the river and be held down by two men I hadn’t seen before, and who were heavily armed. They were held until they were dead. After, the men would carry the body to the cleared hillside and place them with the others, forming a large circle: an O.

  Almost fifty children, some as young as two years old, had to stand by and watch their parents die, screaming and holding on to one another for comfort. Illeana shouted prayers as the last of the adults were drowned, swaying back and forth to the music.

  I couldn’t move. It was as if my body had been permanently frozen to that spot on the trail, forever doomed to watch this abomination. God help me! my head screamed as the tears poured out of my eyes. As the body of the last adult was carried to the circle, the children were herded like cattle to the edge of the bank, screaming in terror.

  Wearing their white robes, the men began to duct-tape the children’s hands and feet one by one. My stomach convulsed. Illeana had drowned the parents first, so there would be no interference when it came time for the children.

  “Come now, Eve’s children! Have no fear! Your parents are waiting for you on the other side, in the water, in Eden—you must rejoice! This is a time for celebration!” she shouted.

  I blindly fumbled along my belt for my radio. My hands were shaking so uncontrollably I had to use both of them to turn the radio on.

  “Headquarters, this is Sergeant Gallagher! I need units at 4566 Benedict Road! I have multiple homicides and homicides in progress—officer in trouble!” I shrieked.

  Never in my life had I ever sounded like that over the radio. I guarantee that every officer who heard it just about came out of their skin. And Michael, who no doubt was monitoring the radio, just pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

  adie adie a mus ta de…

  adie adie a mus ta de…

  ha une wa en, ha un wa hee e!!!!!

  That damned music! My ears were ringing as the men carried the first child, a small blond boy who couldn’t have been more than four years old, to the river’s edge. No! Do something! my mind screamed at my frozen body.

  The men that had held the adults down, and who were carrying the children, were armed with handguns and automatic weapons. There were four men. I couldn’t possibly go up against their weapons alone.

  The boy, screaming his last cries, furiously bobbed his head back and forth as he was placed into the water. As they held him under, I finally found my voice.

  “No!” I screamed.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  They didn’t hear me—they couldn’t have—but the sound of my own cries empowered me to fight back at the reign of terror that held my body hostage. I stood up, strong now, as the men continued to hold the boy under the water. I began to walk toward the river, quickly breaking into a dead run. They saw me when I was about five feet from the bank. It was too late.

  Their hands were occupied with holding the boy down, so I was able to fire four shots, striking both men and catapulting them backward. The other two were busy with the other children so, before they realized what was going on, I took aim and fired. I struck one of the men in the forehead, blowing the back of his head against the white tent. The children, still screaming, scattered. The other man lifted his AK-47, aimed it at me, and furiously jerked on the slide. He clearly had no idea how to use it. Regardless, I shot him twice in the chest.

  I didn’t see the boy anymore. He was still underwater. Illeana had fled into the tent. My mind was broken into bits and pieces of what was real and what was not. As I wedged my gun into my belt, I heard Michael screaming from behind the white tents in the distance. I had no idea how much time had passed when I sat frozen, unable to move. Nothing mattered right now except for saving the little boy.

  Taking a deep breath, I dove into the river. It was deep; I dove hard and never touched the bottom, which was going to make it difficult to find him. I made my way underwater to the other side, feeling all around me, but finding nothing. As I came up for air, I heard Michael screaming again, this time closer. There was a helicopter above, its spotlight illuminating me in the river. The wind from its blades churned and chopped the water violently, making my situation much worse. I took a deeper breath and dove down again.

  Where are you? I frantically waved my arms about in the murky, dark waters, hoping to connect with the child. My lungs were on fire, screaming for air, and feeling as if they would burst. But I would not leave him in this water.

  I began to feel light-headed and I knew I had been under entirely too long, when my hand brushed against the material of his robe. I grabbed it and pulled his body to mine, pushing off the river’s bottom. I prayed I would make it to the top before I passed out.

  It felt like forever, but I finally broke through the surface, gasping for air. Still holding the child, I made my way up the riverbank and put him on the ground. Michael was there.

  “Je
sus! Cee, I thought you drowned! Are you okay?” he screamed over the noise of the helicopter.

  I ignored him as I stared down at the body of the lifeless child. Knowing the chances were bleak, I straddled myself over him and started performing CPR. I was weak from the river, and found myself tiring quickly. As I gave him compressions and put air into his water-filled lungs, I was unaware I was sobbing. Michael knelt down next to me and put his hand on my back.

  “Cee, stop, he’s gone.”

  “No! He’s not!”

  I continued until I physically couldn’t go any further. Still straddling the little boy, I stopped, sobbing louder than before. Michael tried to put his arms around me but I shoved him away.

  At that moment, I heard a small cough.

  I looked down just in time to see the boy turn his head and spew the dark water from his lungs. He began screaming now, the most wonderful screams I had ever heard in my life. I slowly lifted him off the ground and held him as he laid his head on my shoulder. We cried together.

  I now was able to comprehend what had happened while I was in the water. There were law enforcement personnel everywhere, something I clearly hadn’t noticed after coming out of the river and saving the little boy. Michael yelled at one of the uniformed officers to get an emergency medical technician to tend to the little boy. There were two EMTs gently pulling him off me within seconds. He didn’t want to let me go.

  “Ma’am, we need to take him to the hospital as soon as possible,” one of the men said softly.

  I nodded. “Go on, honey, these men aren’t going to hurt you, I promise.”

  “I want Mommy! Mommy!” the boy cried.

  After more sobs, he relented and was carried to a waiting ambulance. I had never felt more tired in my life. Soaking wet and covered in mud, I looked around me at the loss of life, thinking I must be in the grips of a nightmare. The human mind wasn’t made to absorb such a sight. All of these people were someone’s parents, children, brothers or sisters, aunts or uncles. Again, I felt a horrific rage surge from within.