Page 72 of Unmasked Prophecy

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The sound of raised voices cuts through the compound, distant but growing closer. I see commotion by the medical tent, and a chill runs through me. They’ve found Georgia. I duck behind a stack of crates, my heart wild in my chest. I know I have to do this, but it doesn’t make it any easier knowing what is coming.

The alarm bell screams across the night, and I move, darting towards the shadows of the storage buildings. More voices now, angry and searching. I have minutes, maybe less. I press myself against a wall, mostly looking like I’m trying to hide, but actually wanting them to find me. I’m not being careful, not really, but I’m also not making it obvious.

“Over here!” A shout, and then two men appear.

I make a break for it, but they catch me easily, hauling me up, their shouts victorious.

I thrash and squirm, doing my best to get away, but knowing I can’t.

That’s the whole point.

“No,” I screech. “No.”

I’m pulled through the compound, past the growing crowd, past eyes that widen in shock and disbelief. I make a scene the entire time, twisting and cursing, telling them to let me go. I hope that every single camera picks this up, that everyone out there truly sees what monsters these people are.

“Let me go,” I scream. “Please.”

We come to a stop just outside the eating hall, and my father walks out, his long white robe flowing in the cool night air, his eyes intense as he stares down at me with such disappointment. To think I came from this man, and yet, when he looks at me, he feels nothing.

“Where is the child?” His voice is a whip crack, sharp and cruel.

I force myself to hold his gaze, to stand as tall as I can. “Go fuck yourself.”

His hand lashes out, slapping me so hard my head whips to the side and tears burn in my eyes as stinging radiates through my face.

“I will ask you again, daughter. Where is the child?”

I swallow, ignoring the taste of blood on my lip. “Gone. You’ll never see her again.” I breathe out the words like a vow, letting them hang in the air between us. “I told you I was taking her, I’m sorry you were too stupid to believe me.”

I’m pushing his buttons, but that’s the whole point.

I want him mad.

I want his world to stop.

He laughs, low and menacing, as if amused by a child’s tantrum. His hand grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Stupid girl. You think you’ve won?” His voice is a poison. “You’ll never leave this place again, I’ll make sure of it. You might have freed the child, but you, daughter, willneverbe free again.”

“If that’s meant to scare me, it doesn’t,” I point out, my voice laced with sass.

“It seems you have forgotten what happens to people who disobey me.”

I snort. “The scars on my back say otherwise.”

He sneers. “A reminder then? To the cross with her, let’s show her exactly what she seems to have forgotten.”

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