Part 10 (1/2)

Chapter Nine.

Sarah made her way along the frozen sidewalk as fast as she could, the cold of the Sunday morning making her hip ache with every step as she tried to keep up with the Garveys. Yet even walking as fast as possible, the family was well into the next block by the time she turned the corner and the Mission of G.o.d church came into view.

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks.

An icy chill-far colder than that of the late fall morning-filled her body as she gazed at the building that proclaimed itself the house of G.o.d.

But if it truly was G.o.d's house, why did she feel an overwhelming sense of darkness and evil as she beheld the simple frame building adorned only by a tall steeple spiking into the sky?

”Come on,” she heard Tiffany calling, ”keep up.”

But the dread that flooded over her was so dark that she felt like even the wrath of Mitch Garvey might be preferable to being drawn through the doors of that church.

”Sarah?” Mitch said, his voice sharp and his eyes boring into her so deeply she was afraid he might have heard her thought.

She put her head down and kept going, but the closer she drew to the church, the colder she felt.

And now she felt eyes watching her.

Evaluating her.

Condemning her.

She wanted to turn away and run, wanted to find someplace-anyplace-that would shelter her from the strange cold that was invading her.

But there was no place.

Besides, she told herself, you've survived worse. It's only a church and there's nothing to be afraid of.

The pastor, wearing a long white robe and a black stole embroidered in silver, stood on the front step, nodding to each of his paris.h.i.+oners as they streamed through the door.

Sarah's palms went clammy as she waited, s.h.i.+vering, behind Zach and Tiffany on the step while Angie Garvey leaned in to the pastor's ear for a private word.

The pastor's eyes fixed on Sarah as Angie whispered, then he nodded, and one by one the Garvey family filed into the church. Mitch introduced her to Reverend Keener, but Sarah tried to evade both his gaze and the touch of his proffered hand until Mitch squeezed her elbow hard enough to hurt as the pastor's cold fingers closed on hers.

She peered up at the minister's thin, deeply lined face, and his ice-cold eyes pierced into her as if he were looking into her soul.

Looking into it, and hating what he saw.

”Welcome,” he said.

She drew her hand back and slipped it into her pocket, even though she had a feeling it would never be warm again. Then, as Mitch steered her to the doorway, Sarah balked. ”I ... I don't feel well,” she said.

”Come on,” Tiffany said, grabbing her arm and pulling her through the small anteroom and into the sanctuary.

Light seeped in through two tall and narrow stained-gla.s.s windows that flanked the altar, their leaded panes casting a tangle of shadows onto a thin metal cross suspended over the altar.

Hanging on that cross was a skeletal Christ, his mouth sagging open in a perpetual moan of helpless agony.

Sarah s.h.i.+vered and lowered her eyes.

A low and throbbing chord of organ music rolled out of unseen speakers, and then the choir, clad in black robes, appeared through a side door and took their places, sitting silently as Sarah followed the Garveys to their pew. She recognized some of the faces in the choir, which seemed mostly made up of the girls who sat with Tiffany in the cafeteria.

Now, as they had in school, they all turned their heads to stare at her.

Sarah took a deep breath, decided to ignore them, and glanced around to see if maybe Nick was here.

The church was filled, but Nick was nowhere to be seen.

But everywhere she looked, everyone seemed to be looking back at her.

And whispering to each other, their eyes remaining fixed on her.

She recognized some of her teachers, and the gym coach, and even the woman she'd seen in the car coming down Bettina Philips's driveway.

That woman was sitting next to Conner West, one of Zach's friends.

And they all knew who she was-the newcomer-and wanted to see her for themselves.

Some of them smiled at her, but their smiles felt cold, and even as they smiled, they kept on whispering.

Where is she from?

Who is she?

She's the Garveys' foster child.

Her father is a murderer.

Her father tried to kill her, too.

She stays after school in Bettina Philips's room.

”Straighten up,” Angie whispered harshly, and Sarah jerked around, fastening her eyes on the back of the pew in front of her.

It's only church, she told herself. It's no big deal.

As if in response to an invisible signal, the entire congregation stood and opened their hymnals. Lagging behind the rest of the wors.h.i.+ppers, Sarah pulled herself to her feet, found the hymnal, and tried to mouth the words of the two dark dirges that followed. Then the pastor took his place in the small pulpit high above the congregation and began to speak.

Sarah tried to follow what he was saying, but her mind kept drifting back to the little country church where all her old friends back home were right now, singing joyful music, swaying together, smiling, and antic.i.p.ating the great potluck feast that always followed Sunday services.

Her belly cramped with homesickness.

Then Reverend Keener's voice rose in volume and turned strident, and Sarah looked up just in time to see him slam his hand down on the pulpit with enough force that she jumped even in her pew halfway back in the church.

Then his eyes fixed on her, drilling deep inside her. ”Satan is among us,” he said. ”Right here in Warwick. Some of us would hold with him-”

”No,” the congregation cried.