Messiahs, Matt Rogers [best 7 inch ereader TXT] 📗

that much was black and white.

He met her gaze in the rear view mirror. ‘Did you talk to those kids? What were their names?’

‘Brandon and Addison,’ Alexis said. ‘They’ll do the right thing. They saw the error of their ways.’

‘You sure?’

Alexis looked him dead in the eyes. ‘Absolutely.’

King breathed out, satisfied.

Slater got in the passenger seat. He’d been sweeping the farmhouse for important evidence, but when he slipped into the truck King saw he was empty-handed.

Slater exhaled in opposite fashion to King, clearly dissatisfied. ‘They were thorough. There’s nothing left.’

King said, ‘It doesn’t matter. They’re dead.’

Slater said, ‘Do you think they told anyone about our identities? Will the disciples speak to the authorities?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ King repeated. ‘By then we’ll be back in Vegas.’

‘I don’t like this.’

‘What?’

‘Leaving them here. What if they do exactly what we think they might do? What if they double down on their beliefs?’

Alexis said, ‘Brandon and Addison are the ones with the phones. And they’re not doubling down on anything.’

‘How can you be sure?’

She said, ‘I just know.’

King said, ‘If none of this hits the news cycle, we’ll know. Cults are good for headlines. It’ll spread through the media like wildfire.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’ Slater said.

‘Then we come back and deal with whoever took over.’

It settled Slater, and he rested back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes momentarily, decompressing from the madness.

King didn’t take his eyes off Alexis.

She stared back.

He could tell that she knew, deep down, that Brandon and Addison would try to fix the wrongs they’d committed.

She’d convinced them beyond doubt, and she was aware of it.

‘Congratulations,’ he said.

She cocked her head to the side. ‘For what?’

‘You proved you’re no less capable than any of us.’ He paused. ‘You’re an operative now.’

She let the words sink in, and then she smiled.

She said, ‘Wouldn’t want to be anything else.’

Violetta gripped her knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Slater clamped his hand down on King’s shoulder and did the same.

Over and over and over again, they went into hell and made it out.

Together.

King drove away from the commune.

Epilogue

Connor had never felt more alone.

The windowless room that was his office had always accentuated the isolation and loneliness of the job, but he’d never taken notice of it until now. A natural introvert, he’d never needed human interaction to thrive. He found satisfaction in the minutiae of his job — compiling intelligence, sifting through interceptions, summarising the important points and passing them up the chain of command.

It suited his personality.

He’d taken the Myers Briggs test nearly a decade ago and it had labelled him an INTJ — Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging. Before the test he’d considered it bullshit pseudoscience, but he’d never been described so accurately. He’d always been quiet and bookish, the architect of his own mind, and that left little time for the frivolous gossip that plagued ordinary work environments. So he’d bounced between government admin jobs, making no friends but tearing through work like a man possessed, and five years ago he’d caught the attention of a certain division of the government that operated under the radar, just like him.

They were similar in that regard.

His employers didn’t waste time getting choked by the systemic logjam of bureaucracy, and he didn’t waste time getting choked by the frivolities of unnecessary human interaction. They offered him a job doing the same thing he was already doing but focused instead on the world of black operations and espionage. It came with quadruple pay. He’d accepted the same day, tucked himself away in this one-man office without complaint, and spent the last five years curating intelligence for the division that kept America at the top of the food chain while still being able to pretend they were a transparent democracy.

But sooner or later, everyone needs an outlet. He had no friends. How could he get close to people his own age? They busied themselves with climbing the rungs of law firms or tech start-ups and spent their free time bar crawling. He couldn’t think of anything more alien. He wanted to discuss big ideas, the overarching principles of the country he lived in, the morality of the messy things that went on behind closed doors.

Then he’d found an ear … or, rather, it had found him.

A whisper from the grasslands of Wyoming had caught him, and he’d listened.

Now he had no one to whisper back to.

He tried Dane’s number again. It was three days since the man had contacted him, and Connor hadn’t gone that long without hearing his voice in months. He had the sense to call from his personal phone. Six months of devotion to Mother Libertas, six months of unimaginable rewards, and no one in the building had a clue. It was almost too easy.

Now it was horrifying.

The line rang, and rang, and rang.

It went to voicemail.

Dane’s quiet, soothing voice said, ‘It’s me. Leave a message.’

Connor never had.

Now he did.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I have more information on King and Slater. I did a deep dive into their files. There’s things we might have overlooked. Call me immediately. It’s urgent.’

He’d never lied to Dane before.

There’s a first time for everything.

But he longed desperately for the attention, for a co-conspirator, for anything…

Anything to make him needed.

He’d already given the Riordans everything he had on the two black-ops legends. It had put him in an awkward position — he recognised Mother Libertas were in danger with King and Slater in their midst, but he couldn’t alert his employers without putting a spotlight on parts of rural Wyoming that absolutely needed to stay dark. The movement was still in its infancy, and the resources he’d have to use to wipe out the ex-operatives for good would also end up destroying Mother Libertas, too.

For the first time ever, he tried Maeve.

In the cold silence of his office, the mobile at his ear buzzed its outgoing call tone.

He didn’t expect her to pick up. He was nothing compared to her, and the reincarnation of Gaia had bigger things to worry