Righteous03 - The Wicked by Michael Wallace Page B

other name?”
    She ignored the last question. “Look at me, I’m just a girl. There’s nobody else here, and I didn’t bring anything. I don’t have a cell phone or food or anything. I tossed my empty water jug an hour ago.”
    He stepped closer and put his hands on the side of her head, pulled her face close to his. Intensity burned in his gaze. Eliza forced herself to remain calm, and didn’t look away. “You can’t walk in and join. You must be chosen. I’m the one who chooses.”
    “All I want is what you have. Is that so wrong?”
    “Where did you hear that other name?” he asked a second time.
    “I’ll answer that as soon as you tell me whether or not you’re the Disciple.”
    He let go, then lifted her arms one by one, pulled back her sleeve to study her forearms. He ran a finger along the inside of her arm, an intimate gesture that made her skin crawl. “They’re clean. Have you ever done drugs? Cut yourself? Tried to commit the ultimate crime against God?”
    “What do you mean, the ultimate crime? Fornication?”
“No, not fornication, although I’m sure a pretty girl like you must face regular temptation. What I wonder is if you’ve ever attempted suicide?”
    “No, never,” she said.
    “Then what are you doing here?”
    Eliza leaned closer and whispered, “I came here from Blister Creek.”
    “What?” He drew back.
    “I grew up in the same church as you. We lived in Harmony, but my family is in Blister Creek now. And when I heard you speak, I recognized your accent, your way of speaking. You were from southern Utah. Your family practices plural marriage. Am I right?” He said nothing, so she pressed, “You said that you choose who joins and who doesn’t. I want to know, who chose you ?”
    “God chose me.”
    “And God chose me in the same way. I called home and asked around and they told me that Caleb Kimball had been collecting followers in the desert and I knew it was you and that I needed to find you, because the end of the world is coming.”
    “There is nobody here with that name. Just me, and I’m the Disciple. When they speak to me, they call me Master.”
    “I understand, Master. There’s nothing else to me but what you see. Can I join you or will you send me away?”
    “If there’s something else, anything, I’ll find it. You know that.” The Disciple turned toward the trailer and gave a gesture for Eliza to follow.
    She felt a surge of relief, but also fear. If he’d sent her away, she could have struggled back to the road, maybe begging him for water before she left, then returned to Allison Caliari and told her that she’d tried, but it was impossible. As soon as she stepped inside that trailer, it would be too late, she would be fully committed.
    As he reached the trailer door, he looked over his shoulder. “Did you bring any money to help with the work?”
    “I have about forty bucks, that’s all.”
    “Never mind that. There are other ways you can assist the efforts.”
    She thought about what Jacob had warned during the car ride to Las Vegas. It was his favorite pet theory, but she liked watching how animated he got when he expounded it, so she had played along, as if she’d never heard it before.
    “What are the first two rules laid down by any self-proclaimed prophet?” her brother had asked. “First, consecrate all your money to the Lord. And since the prophet is the Lord’s emissary, just go ahead and hand it over now.”
    “Convenient,” Eliza said.
    “Second, normal rules of marriage and courtship do not apply to the prophet. The Lord has commanded him to take difficult steps, even though other people might not understand. Even though the prophet himself may be reluctant.”
    “In other words, obey the Lord when He chooses you to have sex with the prophet.”
    “Exactly,” Jacob said. “And oddly enough, the Lord never chooses middle-aged widows, he always chooses nubile young girls.”
    “Convenient,” she had repeated.
    The