One Of Us - Samie Sands Page 0,1
I killed my mother last night. I’m not going to be the house bitch, he thought. “I didn’t make anything... I just thought...”
“You didn’t think.” His father shook his head. “Make something edible. You got an hour before I come back from the shrine.”
His father went through the back door and into the garage, kicking up the snow as he went.
Marq knew he was supposed to have gone out to pray himself but he’d never gotten around to it. His father was going to be mad when he saw the shrine untouched. The D.T.C. albums still in their record sleeves and the record player turned off.
He’d screwed up. Forgotten to go through the motions and done the daily rituals to appease their dark god.
Natas would not be pleased with Marq.
Neither would his father.
With shaking hands he figured out how to make mac and cheese from the box as well as microwaving a bag of broccoli.
“No rice?” His father asked when he’d finished outside. The lights had flickered a couple of times and the snow was even heavier, the back porch light wavering in the driving snow.
“I can make some,” Marq said. He’d opened a beer for his father and set it on the table.
“What’s this?” His father lifted the plate Marq had set in front of his mother’s spot. He’d done it unconsciously because he always set the table. “Put it away.”
Marq did as he was told.
“Get yourself a beer,” his father said.
“I’m not old enough.”
His father snorted. “You killed for the Order. For Natas. You’re a man now. Get a beer.”
Marq ate dinner in silence with his father, sipping on the beer, which was awful. He cleared the table and made sure to go out to the garage and play Eighth Way To Die from D.T.C. and let the lyrics sink in, becoming one with the music and the haunting voice.
The album washed over him and Marq knew what he had to do.
He hadn’t gotten inspiration from the music. He’d had time to think about everything and that was enough.
THE SNOW HAD SLOWED to an occasional flake but the cold was still brutal. They’d all met again, this time in an abandoned supermarket lot.
It always had to be outside in order for natas to hear their prayers and pleas.
Bundled against the chill, Marq had his hands in pockets and kept moving his legs to keep the warmth in them. He’d move around the group, trying to get behind the bigger ones to block the wind.
“I’ve had another vision,” his father said to the group. “We need another sacrifice. In two weeks we’ll go to the city and ask to join with the main group. It’s the only way we can survive.”
A few people gasped but no one said anything against the plan.
In the two years since Marq had been old enough to be part of the Order there’d only been two sacrifices. Having two in the same week was unheard of.
The woman who’d asked about the snow at the last meeting was singled out, which was no surprise to Marq. He knew now his father had no visions. Natas didn’t talk directly to him.
It was all about the power. All about selfishness and fear. Natas didn’t have time to communicate with someone as low as his father, who’d been able to control the small group by keeping them away from the main group.
Marq wanted to ask why the sudden change.
Instead he let his father ramble about changes and how he’d need a new wife since the last had been a traitor, questioning his authority and trying to run away.
“Natas is everywhere,” his father said. “Natas will use us as his instruments.” He turned and pointed at Marq. “This is our new instrument. He will cleanse those who oppose the Order.”
“I asked a question,” the woman said.
His father turned and smacked the woman across the mouth, dropping her to the snow. “You dare question me again and I’ll make sure you die slowly, bitch.”
Marq stepped forward, pushing past his father. “I’ll handle this.”
His father smiled. “Behold. Natas speaks through me and my son now.”
Marq nodded. “I know what to do and why. Natas has shown me the light.”
The knife was in his hand and he stood next to the woman, putting the cold blade to her neck.
She began to plead for her life but Marq put a finger to his lips.
His father began to chant and the others joined in, most looking away at what was about to happen.
Marq could