Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Bartholomew got his horse ready and tied another to his rear. We needed an additional horse to carry all the extra supplies, mainly guns. He climbed on top of his horse and waited for me to do the same. Then he pulled out a cigar, lit it, and handed it to me.
“You know I don’t smoke anymore.”
“Well, this might be your last chance.” He continued to hold it out.
I took it and popped it into my mouth before I kicked the horse.
“Just like old times…minus the horses.”
It took us an entire day to approach the camp. Bartholomew used his phone for direction, having pinned the location of the camp on his maps app. There was no designated path to get there, except one.
It was visibly marked by tire tracks, especially in the places where the snow was the heaviest.
That was the main path they used to bring supplies to the camp, so we steered clear of that and took the path less traveled. Deep inside the trees, the snow was higher because it was colder under the shade of the branches than out in the open. But the horses continued to move, and we only stopped once or twice so they could eat and drink.
At nightfall, we arrived.
Torches were slightly visible through the trees. They were small and unnoticeable to most people, but not to us.
I was so close to Constance now, and it was hard not to grab my rifle and run straight to her.
We tied up the horses and went the rest of the way on foot. When we had a good view of the camp, we kneeled and surveyed the activity. In the light of the torches, it truly looked like a place that didn’t belong on the surface of this planet. Sculptures of demons were in the center of the pathways, some nine feet tall, some so small they were hard to make out. The Malevolent were everywhere, scattered throughout the grounds, not speaking to one another, just existing.
Bartholomew gave a shake of his head. “Freaks, man…”
I noticed a woman emerge into my vision, carrying a tray of food. She wasn’t one of the girls because she wasn’t dressed in white. She didn’t wear wings. That meant she was one of them. And it sickened me that a woman would participate in this foul place. She opened the door to a cabin, went inside, and then returned a moment later.
“Dinnertime.”
My eyes moved up the hill to the other buildings. It was hard to see because there were few torches that high, but I could see a building that looked distinct from the others. It was white, made of birch, and it didn’t look like a cabin. “That must be the church.”
Bartholomew followed my gaze. “You’re probably right. You see that other one?”
“Where?”
“To the right. You can’t miss it.”
I turned my gaze the other way, seeing a building made of black rock, with no windows.
“I don’t want to know what the fuck goes on in there.” Bartholomew stepped away and returned to the horses.
I followed him. “We’ll go around the rear so we can get closer to the church.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking.”
“Benton, you should sleep.” Bartholomew spoke from his bedroll on the ground.
“Someone’s gotta keep watch.”
“None of those freaks are going to come over here. Trust me.”
I continued to sit up against the tree.
“You won’t be doing anyone any favors if you’re exhausted tomorrow.”
I gave a sigh before I lay in my bedroll beside him. We were both on our backs, side by side, straight on the ground after we’d cleared away the snow. It was a clear night, so I could see the stars between the silhouettes of the trees. “I want to kill him now.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know. You have no idea…”
At first light, we moved for the church.
The Malevolent hadn’t swarmed it yet, so that was our opportunity to slip inside unnoticed. Claire told me they pressed their faces against the windows when the women were inside, so that meant they followed them wherever they went.
There were rows of seats and an altar at the front. Statues of angels were dispersed around the room. A chandelier hung from the wooden beams in the ceiling. My skin immediately prickled once I stepped foot inside.
Bartholomew gave a quiet whistle. “And you think I’m the crazy one…” He set the case of rifles on one of the seats and dropped down next to it, immediately stretching out to get comfortable. “My back hasn’t been this stiff since Positano.”
“I don’t want to know.”
He gave a smirk.
I took a seat across the aisle and waited.
Waited for Constance to walk through that door.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed. An hour. Maybe two. Maybe an eternity. It definitely felt like an eternity.
Finally, the door opened.
I got to my feet, imagining her long brown hair and her green eyes. But the morning light was too bright, and I couldn’t distinguish anything, not until the door shut. When it did, everything came into focus.