Page 18 of The Cult

“I’ll say.”

“So, Sterling. What’s the deal with them?” I asked, pointing at Abel and the group. “Why are they here?”

He hesitated for a minute before whispering near my ear, “They’re the new trainees. We’re getting them ready.”

“Ready for what?” I asked, thankful that he took the bait.

“A fight,” the other guy to my left answered.

Sterling jogged to the front, joining the other guards.

“What fight?” I asked. The second guard seemed apprehensive, so I doubled down. “You can trust me. Orcus does.”

“A fight where anything goes, really.”

“Like MMA?”

He nodded.

I raised an eyebrow and motioned my hand for him to keep going.

“MMA but better.” He couldn’t contain his excitement; he was almost giddy. “But you don’t want to be on the losing end.”

“Why? What happens if you lose?”

“You don’t wanna know,” he said.

I did want to know, but I didn’t want to raise suspicion, so I shifted my questions. “Do they know that?” I asked, nodding to the boys.

“Those boys ain’t got a clue about what’s gonna hit them.”

“When is the next fight?”

“In a month.”

Shit. Time was now of the essence. I had to extract Oliver and his family out of this place, and fast.

Ten: Abel

Tobias is one of Orcus’s fucking guards?

I fumed on our way out of the filthy arena. My dad trusted that asshole, and he was with them? Dad’s hatred toward the cult and its leader was all I’d ever known since I was old enough to understand. With the limited knowledge I had about Orcus, Dad’s actions were justified. My gut instinct told me that I was barely scratching the surface of their secrets. “I’m so sorry, son. This is not how I envisioned our lives would be when we came here,” he’d said. And the older I became, the more I understood what he meant. I hoped he was somewhere safe. I didn’t think about him much, because whenever I did, the paralyzing fear of something terrible happening to him was too much to bear. I preferred to live in denial.

Our lives became harder and rules became stricter after each failed attempt to escape Orcus’s claws. Four years ago, Orcus detained Dad for weeks and placed our family on 24/7 surveillance after catching us passing through a small escape tunnel Dad had dug with other families. Dad was never the same when they released him. He was paranoid, easily rattled, always agitated, and lived in isolation. “There is no way out but death,” one of our neighbors said a couple of years ago. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but I hadn’t seen them since.

“What’s up with that arena and why were we there?” Seven asked, taking me out of my dark thoughts.

“I dunno.” I shook my head, wondering the same thing. They weren’t just parading us like show ponies. “We probably shouldn’t talk about it here.” Especially while we were sandwiched between six guards, including the man my dad had trusted with his life. I had so many questions that would likely never be answered. I’d store them with the rest of the things that didn’t make any sense in this shithole.

My emotions were in turmoil as I wrestled with betrayal and confusion toward Tobias. Walking down the corridors, I overheard hushed conversations between him and the guards, but I couldn’t make out their words. Did my parents know he was here? How long had he been here? Orcus mentioned something about Tobias saving his life, but he didn’t elaborate.

The short journey, which felt like forever, led us back to the barracks. I was beat. A lot had happened and it wasn’t even noon yet. Our time will come, I told myself when I entered our room, a well-needed separation from Orcus and his men.

Just when I thought the encounter was over and we finally had time for ourselves, Tobias turned to the guards and made an unexpected request. “Could you give us a moment alone?” he asked, his voice matching every part of him: deep with authority, rich and seductive, husky and intimidating. My sick mind wondered how he would sound moaning in pleasure, calling out my name in passion.

The guards exchanged uncertain glances, clearly torn between their duty and Tobias’s request. Guards weren’t allowed to talk to us. Humiliating and terrorizing us was expected. They were experts at that. “Not gonna happen,” Napoleon said, standing proudly with his thumbs hooked in his garrison belt. You couldn’t miss the amusement on Tobias’s face. Napoleon was all talk, but he was no match for Tobias’s size.

Undeterred, Tobias asked, “Why?”

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