The Forsaken (The Chosen Series Book 2), Patricia Bell [e textbook reader .txt] 📗

them. They stayed silent while the man dried his hands, gave them one more glance, and then walked out of the bathroom.

Malachi’s resolve was weakening quickly. Were there more people listening? Marcus continued to stare at him, unaffected by the unwanted intruder.

He repeated, “I’m listening.”

“I want to get word to them that their lives are in danger.” He reached back into his pocket and pulled out a small folded piece of paper. “All you have to do is deliver this to them.”

Marcus took the damp paper and opened it. He read aloud. “5-15. PSP.” He looked back up at Malachi. “What does this mean?”

“May fifteenth. I want them to meet me here on that day.”

“And you think they will understand this cryptic message?”

Malachi nodded. He hoped they would. He couldn’t risk saying more. “Jonathan Young and Rachel Pence. The other, she is not Chosen, but she is in danger as well. Her name is Reb – uh Luna. I do not know her last name.”

“And you have no idea where they are?”

Malachi dropped his head. “No, sir. I just know that they are alive and in danger.”

“And you want me to find them, and give them this note? That’s it?”

“And I will pay you one thousand dollars.” He started to pull the money out again.

Marcus put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Save your money. I’ve been looking for a reason to get back at that cowardly, no good . . .” he paused and grinned. “Let’s just say, I will enjoy doing this for you.”

Malachi swiped at his brow again. “Sir, I beg you to take the money. I cannot . . . I will be . . . it is not safe for me to keep it.”

The man stared at him for a moment. If he thought Malachi had gotten the money erroneously, he didn’t say.

He waved his hand at Malachi’s pocket. “Okay. Give it to me. I will give it to your friends when I find them.”

Relieved, Malachi reached back into his pocket and pulled out the currency that had given him anxiety since the moment Daniel had handed it to him. The love of money was the root of all evil, and he felt evil just holding the stuff. He handed it to Marcus. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”

Marcus shoved the moist currency into his own pocket. “Anything else?”

“How will I know if you have found them?”

Marcus slipped his phone out of his pocket. Typed in some numbers and clicked on his calendar. “There are two more weeks before the fifteenth.” He looked up. “Are you here every day?”

“Yes, sir. Until I am . . .” Married. He couldn’t think about that now. “Yes, sir. I will be here.”

“Okay. When I have found them and given them your message, I will walk past your stand. It will be too obvious if I stop, so pay close attention.”

Malachi nodded. “Yes, sir. I will.”

The man nodded and turned to walk out of the bathroom but collided with another member of The Chosen.

“Malachi! Come with me!”

Chapter 21 ― Abigail

“Abigail!” The inevitable boom of her father’s voice made Abigail’s heart shudder.

“Yes, Father.” Abigail hurried down the stairs.

She stood and stared at the three elders who stood before her. Flashbacks of her sister, Rachel, kicking and screaming as they ripped her away from her home and took her out to die, tormented her being. Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest. Tremors plagued her body.

“Abigail Pence,” Elder Aaron said. “You are being charged with the crime of arson. How do you plead?”

Confused, Abigail stared around the room. The words were foreign to her. She looked at her father. “How do I plead?”

“Are you guilty of setting the Smithfield barn on fire or not?”

Abigail nodded. There was no use denying it. She was guilty, and God was punishing her for her acts against her community.

“Come with me.” Elder Aaron yanked her arm, almost releasing it from her socket.

“Father?” It was no use. His words came flooding back to her. If you are found out, there will be nothing I can do for you. She was on her own.

“Where are you taking her?” Her father spoke up, surprising them all.

“Are you questioning the actions of the elders?” Elder Aaron asked. “Of the High Prophet?”

“Of God, Himself?” Elder James threw in.

“N-No. I just want to know. Is it not my right to know?” Anger flashed and then he turned away. “You have already taken . . .” Relenting, her father bowed his head. “God knows best.”

Abigail stared at her father. “Father?” she begged, but she’d known better. He’d already sent one daughter out to die, he would send her too.

Elder James grabbed her other arm, and they dragged her out of her home, just as they did to her sister, kicking and screaming.

As she pulled away from Elder Aaron’s grasp, his hand made a swift movement and as it connected with her face. “You will not disrespect the elders!” he barked in her face, spittle showering her.

Abigail dropped to the ground in the most excruciating pain she had ever felt. A warm fluid dripped down her face. She brought her hand up to wipe it away, and it came back with blood. Thick, red blood. She stared up at him in defiance.

“Get up!” Elder Aaron barked. “You will walk to the truck with self-control, or you will be struck again. I will not allow another Pence harlot to . . .”

“That is enough!” her father boomed as he ran out of the house. “My daughter is not a harlot.”

“Maybe not this one,” Elder Aaron agreed. “But she has taken up for the other one, and that makes her guilty just the same.”

“I am sorry, Abigail.” Her father spoke in a whisper and turned to leave.

“You will allow them to harm me, Father?” she screamed as he walked away. “Have you no care for your children? They have killed one daughter already.”

With that, he turned. Abigail and her father stood facing