They took the kids outside to play in the yard.
Rick’s mobile phone rang. It was a former Word of Faith member, an escapee, congratulating him on his decision. How did the man know?
Rick hung up, spooked. As the kids played, Rick paced the driveway in a daze.
“Are you OK?” Shana asked.
“I feel like I have a black cloak over me, like death,” Rick muttered.
Despite all their planning and secrecy, the Coopers had made critical mistakes. They’d disclosed their plans to the wrong people. Suzanne had called a friend who had been considering moving to Spindale, to warn her away. She told her the Coopers were leaving.
More loyal to the church than the Coopers, Suzanne’s friend took the juicy gossip straight to Jane Whaley. The phone lines around Spindale lit up as word spread from house to house.
The van pulled into the driveway at the Cooper house. Stephen Cordes leaped out, ran to his car, and sped away.
Rick walked up, looking like he’d seen a ghost. Suzanne could see that he was losing his nerve.
“I’m getting calls from the wicked already,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to leave.”
Suzanne was floored. “What? Rick, we have discussed this! We took a long time to come to this decision. Why are you doing this?”
“The presence of God will leave me. I’m making a huge mistake,” he said.
For a moment, Suzanne just stood there in stunned silence. She was overwhelmed by both grief—and fear. She wanted to grab her kids, throw them in a car, and peel out like a bank robber fleeing from a heist. She wanted to get as far away from this damn place as possible. But she was stuck, in a bad dream. The more she tried to move her feet, the more they felt like they were encased in cement. Everything was unraveling in front of her, in slow motion. And she knew it was only going to get worse.
Jane Whaley had dispatched her troops to deal with the revolt, and carload after carload was wheeling into the driveway.
“Don’t listen to them, Suzanne. Just tell them to get off your property!” Shana pleaded. “You’ve made up your mind. Please don’t let them do this to you!”
It was too late. Dozens of people barged up the drive and into the Coopers’ house, screaming and praying, pulling the children inside, splitting up the family for intense, individual blasting sessions.
Minister Mark Doyle pulled Jeffrey aside.
“Do you know what your parents are planning?” he asked.
Jeffrey said no, he had no idea.
“They are planning to leave the church. They want to leave the will of God,” he shouted at Jeffrey.
It was like a scene from a horror movie, with people rushing around the house, shouting in tongues, calling out demons and devils. Suzanne looked at her mother. Wanda’s eyes were wide, terrified and confused.
“Let’s go next door to Cindy’s,” Suzanne said.
Things were even worse there. Screams rang through the house. Ministers isolated the older Cooper children, putting them under intense pressure. Did they want to die suddenly, and to go to hell? That was certain to happen if they left the church, the ministers said.
Suzanne prayed her family would stick together. But when Jeffrey confronted her, she could see that he’d made up his mind.
“Mom, you don’t want to do this,” he warned. “We can’t leave the church.”
She knew it was over. Suzanne knew she couldn’t force Jeffrey to leave, but if she escaped without him, Whaley would cut off all contact. She couldn’t abandon her child.
Back at the Coopers’ house, Wanda slammed her bedroom door on the chaos in the hallway and packed her bag. She returned to Cindy’s on her way out. The screaming from the house traveled down the driveway. Rick opened the door, sweating and crying. “I can’t leave, Wanda. I just can’t. I love my kids too much,” he said.
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she told him. “If you love those kids you’ll get them out of this madhouse. If you loved them you would have never come to this godforsaken place.”
Wanda’s worst fears were confirmed. She drove away in tears. Her family was in too deep.
Over the next two days, ministers streamed in and out of the Cooper and Cordes homes, blasting for hours on end. Shana stayed in her room as much as possible. Late one night she crept downstairs for a glass of water.
She peeked into the darkened den, where worn-out “spiritual warriors” were draped over the couches and