Awakening - The Last Science #1

Chapter 14 - What It Means - IV

  Rachel managed to hold herself together through the entire service. She had never been religious herself, so the words of the reverend washed over her without impact. Still, every time she glanced at Natalie—sitting next to Jenny's mother and holding tight to her hand—Rachel struggled to keep her face calm.

  As everyone rose for the last words, Rachel looked back at the treeline. Cinza's people were still there, though Rachel could only make out one of them clearly. It was Cinza herself, silver-grey hair in place and her hood down. She made a small gesture, and a huge flock of perfect yellow butterflies appeared in the field, fluttering up into the sky. To anyone else, they would have looked totally natural—only Rachel could see the imperfections, or connect them to the vague outline of a person sequestered amongst the pines.

  The crowd watched them float away, Jenny's parents weeping openly. Natalie stayed with them while everyone filed by to give their condolences. Rachel and Will were near the end of the line, just in front of the mayor and behind Kendra. Rachel's eyes were clear and her face set. As Kendra finished and stepped away, she moved up to greet the couple.

  She stopped. The Wilsons were glaring up at her. Ingrid was still crying through her narrowed eyes, but she managed to express terrifying fury in spite of it. Barely-contained rage practically radiated off of her. Rachel automatically took a step back.

  Natalie, only seeing the step, looked up at Jenny's mother—and she too backed away from the fledgling storm. The young girl balled her fist, sensing danger.

  "Why are you here?" Ingrid snarled.

  "I..." Rachel trailed off. She hadn't expected this. She didn't know what to do.

  "Ingrid? Paul?" Rowan asked, stepping up. "Is something wrong?"

  "Do you know?" Paul asked, his voice hoarse. "Do you know what she is?" There was bitter venom in his voice. Rachel felt sickened.

  "I do," Rowan said firmly. "And she has done nothing wrong."

  Ingrid let out a strangled sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Nothing wrong, our mayor says! Oh, sure, nothing wrong! Except that our little girl is dead!"

  "That wasn't me..." Rachel protested weakly, but her voice was thick with emotion and she could barely force the words out. She stumbled back over her dress and fell to the ground, where suddenly the entire world towered over her and not the other way around. The Wilsons loomed like enraged titans, the mayor and Will as bulwarks trying to hold them at bay.

  "She was murdered by one of you freaks," Ingrid spat. A shiver rolled through Rachel. She'd been called that name before, though it had been less to do with magic and more to do with her awkward height and appearance when she was younger—but it stung much harder from the furious woman above her. The crowd was uneasy. It wasn't as though they agreed with Ingrid's words—but none would dare stand in the way of a grieving mother.

  "Jenny was murdered?" Natalie asked. Rachel hadn't realized Natalie didn't know. Natalie was looking at her with expectant trust. Rachel gave her a brief nod. "Who did it?"

  "Someone she's probably protecting!" Paul shouted.

  "Absolutely not!" Jackie shouted back. The sheriff muscled her way in between Paul and Rachel, who was still sitting dumbfounded in the dirt. "I've been trying to find the son of a bitch for days—with her. He's out in the woods, not in our town. Rachel's doing her part to fix this."

  "I—" Rachel started, but she was quickly shouted over.

  "She's misleading you! All of you! She's made a deal with the devil, and we're paying the price," Paul cried, starting to sound hysterical. Jackie faltered. The sheriff looked as though she might strike the man. Rachel couldn't think of a worse idea at that moment—but apparently she was wrong.

  It wasn't the sheriff though. Reverend Henry Smith, looking perfectly calm, stepped up next to the sheriff and smacked Paul Wilson across the face. The silence that followed was deafening.

  "Paul, you are a better man than this," Henry said firmly, in the clear carrying voice of any great preacher. "The Lord does not teach us to be full of wrath. That is for Him alone to decide." Paul looked as though he might retort, but Henry continued. "If the courts find her guilty, then I have no doubt you will see punishment from on high, but it is not for us to persecute."

  He turned and offered a hand to Rachel. She felt even more dumbfounded. The reverend was possibly the last person she expected support from. She reached and took it, finding his grip firm and true. He pulled her gently to her feet, where she once again stood over all in attendance. Rachel didn't feel tall though—she felt like a child, hiding and staying silent while the adults argued and fought in front of her.

  "Are you alright, child?" Henry asked.

  "I... yes, thank you," she answered, breathless.

  "This applies to all of you!" he continued, as though a megaphone had suddenly appeared before his mouth. "These people are still members of our community. We were taught to love our neighbors as ourselves, regardless of their background. Did not Jesus meet with everyone, no matter their choices or beliefs?"

  There was some grumbled assent.

  "What about the robed freaks in the forest?" Paul asked. "You said the murderer was out in the woods. Did you ever go after them?"

  "The killer targeted them too," Jackie said. "I'm not revealin' any more details than that during an ongoing investigation."

  "They have been harmed just as we have been harmed," Henry called out. "Our neighbors, our brethren in Rallsburg have been persecuted. I for one intend to join with them and defend against this evil." He looked at Rachel with an intense gaze. For a brief moment, Rachel could understand how some preachers managed to gain such huge flocks of worshippers. His eyes had a passion that begged you to follow wherever he lead. "Will you take me to meet with them?"

  Rachel took a moment to realize she'd just been asked a question. "I'll ask."

  Henry clasped her hands warmly. "Thank you, Rachel. Tomorrow, then." He bowed to the Wilsons, then strode away back into town.