Deep Redemption
“I know,” I said reluctantly, sighing as he removed himself from within me. It was strange. When Rider left my body, I felt like I had lost a piece of my soul too.
Rider slipped on his pants and stood from the bed. I watched as he gathered his composure, then turned to me. I took his outstretched hand and followed him out of the enclosed bed. Rider squeezed my hand in his as we walked outside, my naked body immediately on display. He shielded me as much as possible, before snapping his fingers at a nearby guard to give me my garment. I slipped the dress on quickly and waited for what came next.
My face flushed with embarrassment as Brother Luke walked to the bed and came back holding the soiled sheets up for the crowd to see. The people cheered and held up their hands for their prophet.
The prophecy was complete. I could feel the pulsing waves of their joy.
Rider held up his hands, looking every inch the prophet of The Order. The crowd quieted. “The four days of solitude for me and my new wife will now commence. Take this time to reflect on your sins and pray for our souls to be saved.” The people jumped to their feet in celebration. “Your celebrations will commence in the west hall. Go and celebrate your salvation and embrace in the love that your Lord has sent to his chosen people!”
I heard the rush of the crowd as they dispersed to begin the celebrations. Rider turned to Brother Luke. “I am going to take the Cursed to the house of solitude. No one is to disturb us until the four days are complete, am I understood?”
“Yes, Prophet. I have everything covered here. You enjoy purifying your new bride.”
Rider took my hand in his and dragged me in the opposite direction to the crowd. I kept my eyes downcast, trying my best to keep up with Rider’s fast steps. The soft grass quickly gave way to a path, and risking a glance up, I saw the bridal house of solitude up ahead.
But when we arrived at the house, Rider did not lead me inside as I expected. Instead he ran past the entrance and headed for the surrounding forest. I frowned in confusion as the ground beneath us turned to rough, dry soil and twigs. Several of the broken branches sliced at the bare parts of my feet through the strappy sandals, but Rider kept pulling us deeper and deeper into the forest, his attention solely focused on wherever he was taking us.
As the light above began to fade, unease began to travel to my chest.
Rider did not look back, just kept pushing forward. Beads of sweat built on my forehead as he increased his speed. The humid air grew thicker the further we traveled. We pushed through, until so much time had passed that night moved in. I gasped for breath, unused to such bodily exertion.
Then suddenly, Rider pushed a branch out of the way, and a fence came into view. The fence was metal, but the panel in front of us had been cut . . . cut wide enough for us to fit through. Rider pushed the cut sheet aside. I swayed on my feet. I was so confused and exhausted that my head pounded and ached.
“Come on, baby,” Rider urged, indicating for me to go through. I hesitated just long enough for him to reach for my arm and guide me through. Rider fixed the sheet back in place behind us, then reached for my hand. At the same speed as before, we passed through several more lines of trees, before arriving at a deserted road . . . deserted but for a black vehicle with black windows.
I sucked in a breath. What was happening? Where were we going? Rider turned to face me. He placed both his hands on my upper arms and pushed me backward, until I was pressed up against the vehicle. His hands moved from my arms to cup my cheeks.
“Rider,” I whispered, trying to catch my breath. I leaned forward, lifting my hands to lie over his on my cheeks. I breathed in his scent and felt his heart racing against my chest. He was looking at me as if I was his sun. I felt in my heart that he was mine too.
“How?” I asked softly. “How did you . . . how is this even possible? I am so confused. I was meant to marry the prophet! I had to, to help our cause . . . what . . . what have you done?”
He stepped back, brushing my questions aside. “We need to go, baby.”
I reached for his wrist. “Where? Where are we going? I need to know what is happening!” I glanced back in the direction of the commune, fear lacing my veins. “My friends. My guardians . . . we cannot leave them! They need me. They needed me to get close to the prophet!”
Rider stopped and pulled me closer to him. “They know, Harmony. They helped me do all this. Now I need you to come with me so we can help them too. The plan has changed. We just didn’t tell you in case that knowledge put you in danger.”
A thick cloud clogged my mind. If they had helped Rider . . . “They will be punished!” My hand flew to my mouth. “He will kill them. He will kill them all for their betrayal. And where have you put your brother? Is he still alive?”
Rider cupped my face again. His expression was sympathetic, yet determined. “He is alive. Harmony, this moment was why your friends stayed in Puerto Rico all those years when they could have fled. This was why you volunteered to come back, too. We have set that plan in motion; it just looks different than you thought.”
“I do not understand,” I answered and held on tighter to Rider’s wrists. “I needed to marry him.”
“They—Brother Stephen, Sister Ruth, Solomon and Samson—couldn’t see that happen. We all saw what this wedding was doing to you. It was killing you inside. None of us could see you sacrifice yourself. My brother . . . he would have hurt you. And even if you could have taken it. I couldn’t. We couldn’t.” Rider closed his eyes. “This was the plan we devised the night they discovered who I was. I can get to people who can help us. Because we cannot do this alone. We need to get help . . . without destroying you in the process.”
I saw in his eyes that he was just as conflicted as me at leaving them. “Rider,” I rasped, the tears already clogging my throat. “Whoever will help us out of this mess? The authorities Brother Stephen talked of?”
Rider’s hands on my cheeks tightened just a fraction. “No. The people that Judah fears most.”
At first I could not think who that could be. Then the prophet’s teachings played in my mind. The sermons he preached through the speakers for all the commune to hear. “The devil’s men,” I whispered. Rider nodded his head once. “To rid ourselves of the prophet we must walk through hell?” I asked, trying to build the courage to face such men.
Rider stared at me for what felt like an eternity. “I fear we have already been living in hell, baby.” Rider’s jarring words halted my breath. “We have to go, now,” Rider said and went to turn away.