The Children of Red Peak Read online

  Microfiche-printed using a micrographic scanner, an article from the Los Angeles Weekly Republican, May 8, 1870, declared, 43 VANISH IN MEDFORD.

  David blinked in surprise and started reading.

  The article described how several years after the Civil War, a gold prospector named William Ward declared the imminent apocalypse and invited his followers, mostly German farmers settled in the San Joaquin Valley, to join him at Red Peak, where they suffered for three long months. Medford’s citizens described rumors of starvation and self-mutilation among the Wardites, a strange fire visible from the town. Then the group disappeared, leaving behind all its worldly belongings, along with bloodstains testifying to terrible violence.

  What happened in the summer of 2005 had occurred before, deepening the mystery while solving one small part of the puzzle. The Family had never figured out who’d come before them to plant the cross on Red Peak and build the tiny ghost town in its shadow. Emily had. But what happened to them?

  One more sheet of paper lay at the bottom of the box, an article from the Bakersfield Californian, dated October 14, 2005, which reported, SHERIFF’S DEPUTY MISSING. David gasped at the photo, which showed the man who’d led him from his hiding place in the Temple.

  In his memory, the deputy had looked as shocked as David felt. Apparently, the man had later returned to the mountain and vanished. Only his patrol car was found on the site, along with a blood trail proving a DNA match. The FBI had staged another massive search of the area, but turned up nothing but rocks and scrub.

  “What the hell?” he murmured.

  Why did people disappear there? What happened to the bodies?

  Among all the paper, there was no letter from Emily, not even a single note. In her silence, however, David knew she was trying to tell him something.

  An invitation, perhaps.

  Look closer, she seemed to be saying. Don’t look away.

  Hours later, David got into bed and lay in the dark thinking about the mystery of Red Peak, which appeared solvable only by joining the mystery itself.

  For years, he’d directed his rage at Jeremiah Peale, the elders, the Family, his mother, himself. Even fifteen years later, he still sometimes fell into flashbacks at odd moments. He could be showering and find himself shouting at people who’d died long ago and existed only in memory.

  Now he was angry at a place. Something about that place was evil.

  “David,” Claire whispered next to him. “David.”

  He stiffened but didn’t answer.

  “David?”

  In his mind’s eye, Red Peak loomed.

  11

  JOURNEY

  2005

  Outside the kitchen window, the first rays of morning revealed cabins and the distant smokehouse and green fields beyond, all of it still there after the long night. Nonetheless, David’s world was ending.

  “Glory,” Mom said as she stuffed their kitchen into a handful of old cardboard boxes scavenged from the Dollar General Market in Tehachapi. She eyed her children at their small dining table. “Finish your eggs so I can pack these plates.”

  “Okay.” David scooped cold scrambled eggs into his mouth.

  “I’m not hungry,” Angela said.

  “Eat anyway,” Mom told her. “You’ll need your strength today. Glory!”

  “Stop saying that. Seriously.”

  David chewed and chewed but couldn’t force his dry throat to swallow. He pictured a great fire surging from the horizon.

  His mother laughed. “Why am I even bothering to pack? Where we’re going, we’re not going to need anything.”

  He gulped his milk to push the food down. “Mom?”

  “Yes, Dave?”

  “What’s going to happen?”

  She smiled. “We’re bound for Glory!”

  Angela let out a labored sigh.

  “Everybody’s going to die.” David’s chin wobbled under an impossible weight. “What about Grandma? What about Dad?”

  A satisfied smile flickered across Mom’s beautiful face like an illusion, and he hated her right then, just as fleeting.

  “What happens is between them and God. My sole concern is you kids.”

  “I don’t understand why we can’t just stay here,” Angela said. “If God wants us, driving a couple of hours isn’t going to make any difference.”

  “The Lord created everything, Miss Angela. The universe and everything in it. I don’t think he owes you an explanation for his requests.”

  “What if God asked you to punch me in the face, Mom? Would I still be your sole concern?”

  “I can’t eat any more,” David said.

  Mom scanned their plates with a frown. “Fine. Go, then. Both of you. Go rain on somebody else’s parade.”

  He brought his plate and glass to the sink. Tears stung his eyes.

  Mom sang a Christian song as she went back to work, packing for Heaven.

  Head down, David went outside. School buses and a tractor trailer waited in front of the Temple, ready to deliver the Family to the next step in its journey to another reality. Two men lurched out the doors, hauling a pew between them.

  Sometimes, he felt strong in the knowledge he was on God’s side. He liked stories about bad and selfish people getting their comeuppance, and felt safe knowing he was making better choices.

  This was different, though. In a short time, everyone David knew from his life before the Family was going to burn in endless fire. Dad and Grandma and his cousins. Ajay and Sandy and Doug and all his teachers. Not just people, but all the animals and plants too. Everything. Soon, nobody new would ever be born. The Earth would be a smoking cinder in space. No longer needed, the entire universe might be switched off.

  It was all too big for him. Too big and too scary.

  Another truck squealed as it parked in a cloud of exhaust. He pictured one of them running him over, almost wanted it to happen. Then Mom would care how upset he was. Then she’d wish she’d paid attention to her son’s feelings.

  “Hey, stupid.” Angela caught up to him. “Don’t listen to Mom. She has no idea what’s going to happen. It’s all a story she likes telling herself so she’s not sad.”

  The tears flowed freely now. “The Reverend told her. He’s never wrong.”

  “I don’t think he has any idea either.”

  Angela didn’t believe the way Mom did. The way he did. She only liked the farm because Josh was here.

  “Don’t say that! You have to believe!”

  “Excuse me for trying to make you feel better,” Angela snapped.

  His sister thought she was so tough. “When the fire comes, who’s going to protect you?”

  “You’re such a stupid little—”

  “You’ll die forever!” David bolted.

  “Fine, run away,” Angela called after him. “I’m done watching out for you.”

  “I don’t care!”

  Driven by fear and anger, his legs kept pumping until he’d ditched her in the dust. He was mad at her—after all this time, look who turned out to be the stupid one—but Heaven might feel a lot like Hell if she didn’t make it.

  David ran into the Temple at breakneck speed and came to a stomping halt. The pews were gone. The altar, the wood dove mounted on the wall, all of it. The house of worship was large and cavernous now, stripped of its warmth. Dust hung drowsy in the morning light. His clomping footsteps echoed off the bare walls.

  Just a few more steps brought him into the hallway, crowded with boxes. Like the nave, the supply closet had been emptied.

  There, hugging his knees in the dusty dark, he wept as he did three years earlier, on his first day at the farm.

  “Don’t kill my sister,” he prayed. “Please don’t hurt anybody.”

  Angela had made herself the hero of her own story, one in which God would forgive her lack of faith. All she had to do was open her eyes to see Jesus was watching out for her, if only she’d let him.

  It’s not fair. God can do anyt
hing. Why doesn’t he make everybody believe? Why does he have to destroy anybody? Why does sin have to exist at all?

  Free will, David thought, answering his own question. A big subject at school. God gave his creation the power to choose.

  Most people had forgotten God, and now they’d pay the price. He should have felt strong, being on God’s good side. Satisfied the way his mom was. Instead, he felt like a traitor, which, in itself, was a whole other kind of betrayal.

  Sorry, God, he prayed. I can’t help it.

  The door opened, making him jump. He’d been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard anyone approaching.

  “I had a funny feeling!” Emily said. “Are you okay?”

  He shrugged and turned his head to wipe his tears on his shoulder. Emily closed the door and sat next to him in the dim closet.

  “Are you sad we’re leaving?” she said.

  Another shrug.

  “Remember what the Reverend said? Wherever we go, that’s our home, because we’re all together?” She tucked her long hair behind her ears.

  He sniffed. “That’s not it.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “You’re not even a little scared of what’s going to happen?”

  “Why would I be?” Emily stood and dusted her knees. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Don’t want to.”

  “We’re leaving today. Don’t you want to say goodbye?”

  David exploded with a sigh. “Fine.” As usual, nobody wanted to take him seriously.

  They left the church and went back into the heat and light. The Family hustled about their packing, lugging boxes and chairs and suitcases. Nobody worked the fields this morning, the crops abandoned. Freed by Mr. Preston, the sheep and pigs and chickens wandered among unpicked tomatoes and asparagus.

  The farm was lush and beautiful, and it was home. He’d wanted to say goodbye like Emily wanted, but it was already gone.

  “You always worry about what you’re giving up,” she said. “You should think about what you’re getting.”

  “I wish I believed like you. You’re really good at it.”

  “God has everything planned out.” And one could either ride that bus or get crushed by it. “We’ll go to Heaven together. You and me, Dave.”

  “God’s going to kill everybody,” David said. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “Remember when Mrs. Chapman taught us about the Flood? I think Noah was more scared of the rain than what would happen to all the wicked people.”

  David wondered how wicked they really were. “It just doesn’t feel right to go to Heaven when so many aren’t.”

  “That’s why you deserve to go,” Emily said. “See? You’re good.”

  He didn’t believe that. He’d tried his best, but he was no better than Ajay Patel back in Twin Falls, or any of his other old friends. The only difference was his mom believed in Jesus, so he did too. Being a Hindu, Ajay didn’t.

  “I’m not that good.” How could he be? He’d prayed for this to happen.

  “You’re good to me,” Emily said.

  Blushing, he lost his train of thought. “Want to go to the stream one last time?”

  “I see your sister!” Emily stood on her tiptoes to wave. “Let’s see if she wants to come too. We’ll all go together.”

  “Yeah, great.” Angela could yell at him some more for being worried about her.

  David thought of the Flood, how the rising water covered the Earth and killed every living thing on it. He wondered how Noah survived with his sanity intact while the world drowned all around him.

  The kids trooped through the woods toward the baptismal stream for the last time. The air hummed and chirped with insects and birdsong. David walked alongside Emily, his stride paced by a walking stick he decided he’d take to the desert. Deacon with Beth, Angela with Josh, two by two they’d march to the ark.

  Wyatt moped behind them. “I wonder if you can get married in Heaven.”

  “We’ll be happy there,” Emily said. “That’s all we need to know.”

  “Yeah, but can we eat blueberry pie?”

  “I don’t think we’ll have bodies.”

  “I’d like to have pie one more time then. And see the trains.”

  “Stop trying to spoil everything,” she scolded.

  “I’m going to miss a lot, that’s all.”

  Josh said, “Relax, bud. I’m sure they’ll have blueberry pie in Heaven. All you can eat. You can swim in it. The trains bring it in.”

  “Make it hot fudge sundae then. This is Heaven we’re talking about.”

  The kids laughed, a little too hard. Wyatt could be annoying, but his irreverence had a way of breaking the tension and making God feel a little more like a kindly Santa Claus and a lot less like Wyatt’s stern father.

  “You won’t miss anything,” Emily said. “You’ll be happy. Nothing will hurt you.”

  “Huh.” No doubt, Wyatt was picturing eternity without his dad’s belt. “What about the birds? Are they going with us? What about all the cats and dogs?”

  “There are no pets at the farm,” Angela said with some surprise.

  “It’s a rule,” Emily said. “Nothing to hold us back.”

  “We still don’t know,” Wyatt insisted. “I think they’re all coming too. They didn’t do anything wrong. They’re innocent.”

  David had no idea. He found it strange that God was so explicit about his rules but had told his creation almost nothing about where they’d be living forever after they left this world. A thousand-plus-page book written by God, and barely a word.

  “We can’t understand it,” Deacon said.

  Wyatt spat in the dirt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s impossible to describe or even imagine.”

  “Yeah?” The kid cackled. “Then how do we know it’s even good?”

  “Faith.” Emily shook her head at him. “Obviously!”

  “If you don’t think it is, what are you doing here?” Angela said.

  “I came for the pie.”

  Josh took Angela’s hand and squeezed it as if to say, Don’t bother with him, you can’t win.

  The trees broke to reveal the stream glittering in the morning light. Beautiful and cool and noisy with rushing water, this was their favorite place, where they swam and played and could be themselves. Their Eden within Eden.

  For David, his journey as a Christian started here with his baptism. The shock of the freezing plunge. He’d risen to waves of love and applause. A bird had darted from the trees to disappear high up in the sun’s glare. He remembered Emily on the bank, smiling in a blue dress, and for the first time since leaving Twin Falls, he’d thought, This could be home.

  “We’ll all be together,” David said. “Right? That’s the important part.”

  “Listening to you and Deacon whine for eternity,” Wyatt said. “Sounds wonderful. Sign me up, Lord.”

  David’s world blazed red. Soon, untold millions if not billions could be dead, destroyed in a great fire, including Ajay, and maybe even his dad, and this mean kid was getting a free pass and cracking jokes.

  He lashed out in a clumsy swing. “Stop!”

  Wyatt backpedaled, a terrified look on his face that made David feel sorry and powerful at the same time. It made him laugh, and Wyatt broke out in a nervous chuckle until David took another punch.

  His fist bounced off the kid’s chest, completely ineffectual, no energy behind it, as if he was fighting in a dream. Wyatt blinked in surprise, flinching as if he’d expected far more pain than he got.

  Then his face went dark. “You little shit—”

  Suddenly David was flying, up and over Josh’s shoulder, where he squirmed shouting and kicking. The big kid splashed into the stream.

  “Time to cool off, Davey boy.” Josh flung him into the water.

  He belly flopped with a loud splash and came up sputtering with shame and rage. His friends laughed as they ran into the stream splas
hing each other. Wyatt stood alone on the rocks, still looking angry and surprised.

  “You’d better say you’re sorry,” Angela told him.

  With a glum nod, David waded to shore. “Sorry.”

  Wyatt eyed him warily. “You done being a crazy animal?”

  “You can hit me if you want. I deserve it.”

  “I’m not going to hit you, dummy. What the hell, though?”

  “I was just mad,” David said. “I have friends out there.”

  “Yeah, well, the next time you’re mad at the man upstairs, don’t take it out on me.” The kid surprised him by thrusting out his hand. “Good fight, I guess.”

  They shook. “Thanks.”

  Wyatt surprised him again with a rough shove. “Jerk. Now let’s go swimming.”

  David had friends here too.

  Frolicking in the water, he forgot his burdens and laughed for the first time in days. Then Josh whistled and pointed. Time to go back.

  Dripping on the shore, the pack gazed in silence across the stream, absorbing everything, as if they could take it with them.

  “Bye, river,” Deacon said.

  “Bye, farm,” Beth said.

  “Bye, world,” Emily chimed in.

  “Goodbye, pie,” Wyatt said, but nobody laughed now.

  David climbed aboard the idling old bus and sat squeezed between his mom and Angela. He opened his backpack and found a bag lunch, bottle of water, and some books, including a Bible.

  “How long is this trip gonna be?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Angela. “Mom, how long does it take to get to Glory?”

  Mom frowned out the window. “Longer than my patience can last, I suspect.” She was still annoyed at her kids returning soaked from their dip, which had required her to unpack towels and a fresh change of clothes.

  “Mom?” David said. “I’m glad we came here to live.”

  She winked. “Wait till you see what comes next.”

  The babble died out as Jeremiah boarded to regard them all with his trademark grin. “Welcome aboard the Heaven Express. How is everybody doing today?”

  David raised his hands and cheered along with the rest, his thoughts no longer dwelling on those who wouldn’t make it, but on his loved ones who would.