“The government have been here already. They took hundreds of people out of this camp. But my guess is that Frankland didn’t want them to go, and he’s decided that no one else is going to leave. Not even the ones who aren’t his hard core, like Olson and his family. Olson came in because his business was wrecked after the second big quake, not because he was a believer.”
Nick nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I see that.”
Manon bit her lip. Anxious worry glimmered in her eyes. “And besides,” she added, “I don’t think the government has a very good record when it comes to dealing with religious fanatics.” The deadly litany rolled through Nick’s mind: Jonestown. Waco. Ruby Ridge. He thought about Manon and Arlette caught in a crossfire between cops and Frankland’s guards, and he gave a shudder. Manon stood straight-spined in the field, her chin tilted high. A princess in exile. “I want you to get your daughter out of this place,” she said. Or, most likely, commanded.
Nick pressed his lips together, felt determination well up in his soul. We are going to put together one hell of a plan, he thought.
“All right,” Nick said. “From now on, what we do is keep our eyes open. We need to find out how everything is done here. Find out where the supplies are kept. The guns. Food stores. Work out schedules for the guards.” He nodded. “We’re going to put together the best escape plan in the history of the world.”
Because the best plan, the most flawless plan ever, was the only thing that would keep Arlette safe. Apparently Brother Frankland wasn’t talking much after Olson clouted him in the jaw, because the morning service was run by Garb, one of the other preachers. The service ran on for almost two hours, not counting a space of time that was taken up with a long, rumbling, but nondestructive aftershock. Garb made a lot of announcements about how Brother Amos’ baby was feeling a little croupy and could use some prayers; and how Sister Felicity’s arthritis was much improved after the congregation had sent a little of Jesus’ healing power her way. Jason drowsed through it but woke up to enjoy the music. Garb’s actual sermon, when he got around to it, had to do with “God’s marching orders,” and the penalties inflicted for “falling out on the march,” especially during wartime. At present, Jason gathered, it was wartime. Jason didn’t remember enlisting.
After another hymn, ominously entitled “Marching with Jesus,” Garb made an announcement that after today most of the salvage jobs in the area would be discontinued. After finishing today, all the salvagers were to bring their tools and equipment back to the camp along with any useful items they may have found.
Jason would have to tote feed sacks only one more day. That was a relief.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught Nick’s frown, and he realized that with the work details ended, they’d have no reason to be out of the camp. It was going to be a lot harder to escape if their movement was restricted.
Finally there was breakfast. “Religion,” Jason said over his beans and fried fish. “I don’t get it.” Nick, sitting opposite Jason at the long table, seemed surprised by the question. “Say what?” he said.
“What’s the point?” Jason asked. “What’s it for?” Nick exchanged glances with Manon and Arlette. “I’m an engineer,” he said. “I only have an engineer’s answer.”
“Tell me,” Jason said. He was aware of Arlette’s nearness, of the warmth of her sitting only a few inches from him on the bench.
“Religion is to help people behave better,” Nick said. “The whole point is—” He searched for a phrase.
“Moral instruction. Moses taught duty. Jesus taught goodness. The rest—Heaven and Hell, the miracles, all that—is just to get people to pay attention. Some people won’t listen to instruction unless you give them a show along with it.”
Manon, sitting by his side, rolled her eyes and gave a kind of snort. “You men,” she said. Nick gave her a tolerant look. “I said it was an engineer’s point of view.”
“Religion’s about community, you fool,” Manon said. The fool was affectionate, Jason thought, or meant to be affectionate anyway, though at the sound of the word there was a flicker in Nick’s eyes that suggested he didn’t much like hearing it.
Manon leaned toward Jason. “It’s about sharing,” she said. “It’s about a group of people being happy together, and grieving together, and praising God together, and experiencing all of life together. That’s the point of all those announcements that Brother Garb made, so that everyone would know what was happening in the community.” She nudged Nick. “It’s not as if we get together every Sunday for a lecture. About our morals, for God’s sake.” She looked at Jason. “It’s fun. We always had a big meal beforehand. Big meal afterward, with all the family for miles around. The preacher was our Uncle Joe till he retired, and he came for dinner with his wife.”
“You go to church because it’s family,” Nick said. “I went because it was a duty. The same reason I was an Eagle Scout. It was something a general’s son did.” He shrugged. “Scouting was more fun.”
“Your daddy turned every damn thing into a job,” Manon said.
“Do you believe it?” Jason asked her. Suddenly he was desperate to know. “Do you believe in God?
Adam and Eve? Noah? All that?”
Manon seemed a little surprised, so Jason went on. “My mom believed anything, see. She believed in reincarnation, in astrology, in Buddha, in Jesus, in the Tao. She believed in a woman in California named Pharaoh Nepher-Ankh-Hotep who had a spirit guide named Louise from Atlantis. Someone once told her that the UFO people had a huge city on the back side of the moon. I remember she once told my dad about this—this was before the divorce—and he went, well, the astronauts went around the moon, they would have seen it. And my mom went, see, they did see it, and they had pictures, but there was a cover-up. And my dad asked her why they covered it up, and she went, well, they always cover up the flying saucers, just like they did at Roswell, everybody knows that. And my dad asked why, and she said it was because the government was secretly working with the UFO people and letting them abduct people in return for scientific knowledge. And my dad went, the government would never be able to keep a secret like that, it’s a huge secret, it’s the most important thing ever, and the government can’t even keep their five-thousand-dollar toilet seats secret, or the itching powder they tried to put in Fidel Castro’s beard…”
Jason ran out of energy. Manon gave him a curious look.
“What did your momma say?” she asked.
Jason looked at her. “She said, ‘That’s why they killed Kennedy.’”
Manon looked surprised. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“I don’t either. I don’t think my mom really understood what she was trying to say. She was making it up as she went along, I think, once she heard about the moon base. The point is, she’d just heard about the flying saucers on the moon, and if she was going to believe in that, she had to believe in all the other stuff, too. That was the way she was.” He looked down at his plate. “My parents got divorced right after that.” Manon reached over the table, took his hand. “I’m sorry, Jason,” she said. Jason shrugged. “Not your fault.”