Few people are as surprised by my militant atheism as they are by how I came by it.
When I tell them that my parents were extremely devout fundamentalist Christians, they aren’t so surprised. It’s a common story, isn’t it? Call it rebellion if you like, but the most Christian of parents tend to produce the most atheist of children. At least, that has been my experience, and the experience of those like me.
No, none of that is surprising – it is what comes after that is unexpected.
For a long time when I was growing up, I didn’t really understand that my family was different. I didn’t have much exposure to the outside world, as I was homeschooled, along with my younger brother, Charlie. Our days went something like this:
6:00 a.m. – We would wake up, dress, and kneel at the foot of our beds for morning prayer. In the morning we prayed the rosary. Charlie always hated it, but I found the repetition to be soothing. I liked the routine feel of its chanting.
7:00 a.m. – Breakfast. We weren’t allowed much, because my parents wanted to teach us the importance of fasting. Jesus didn’t have much, so neither would we. We usually had some toast each and that was it.
8:00 a.m. – Morning Bible study. We learned to recite many passages aloud. We wrote essays on the more involved stories. We often focused on the Old Testament, as our parents believed it was undervalued in current society – not that we knew anything about society, current or otherwise.
12:00 p.m. – Lunch, thank God, was more substantial. It was accompanied by a lively discussion of what we’d learned in “class” just a few moments before.
1:00 p.m. – At this point, we had another hour of prayer by ourselves. Once again, we knelt in front of our beds on the cold wooden floor. I learned more about endurance from those hours of kneeling than I could have anywhere else.
2:00 p.m. – Here were our “normal” classes. Math, science, literature. God still intruded in these most secular of subjects. He was unavoidable, really. But at least we learned something substantial during this time, biased or not.
6:00 p.m. – Supper.
7:00 p.m. – Family study session. Father would read to us from the Bible and we would murmur in assent. We’d sing some hymns and rejoice in all of God’s heavenly glory.
8:00 p.m. – An hour of prayer.
9:00 p.m. – Finally, we’d be allowed to sleep.
This was how I passed each day of my childhood. As Spartan as it may seem, I must remind you that it’s nothing illegal. Many other children receive the same treatment as Charlie and I did. It typically goes unnoticed. The children grow up so sheltered that they are bred perfectly to take their parents’ places. Then, they raise their own children to be much the same. It is a self-perpetuating cycle and it receives very little attention in our society.
But I digress.
My point is that life continued in exactly this fashion until the summer I turned ten and Charlie turned seven. That’s when my parents began staying up late at night, whispering. That’s when they began making strange phone calls. That’s when the routine changed.
That’s when they signed us up for summer camp.
* * *
They were very excited for the prospect – so excited, in fact, that they talked about it non-stop. It was a camp for kids like us, they said. Religious kids. Good kids. And we would get to learn about God with these kids. We would have friends. We were going to learn so much. God was going to be very, very pleased.
I won’t pretend that I wasn’t excited by the prospect of having friends – in the past few years, I had begun to want a playmate of my own age. Of course, by that time I knew better than to bring it up with my parents. They didn’t respond well to us children having wants or desires. They were sinful, of course.
But as exciting as the prospect was, I was somewhat… less than pleased about the whole affair. I was a creature of habit. I liked the routine, the repetition. And this was something entirely new and alien. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself trust it. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t even trust my own parents. It was so out of character for them. I had something of a premonition.
A premonition that proved to be true.
Camp started on June 16th. Perhaps it seems strange to remember everything so sharply. Most memories fade over time. Unfortunately, the following days aren’t just any memories. Regardless, the 16th is forever imprinted in my mind. It was the day that my parents loaded up my brother and I, with our two backpacks, and set out on the road.
My first clue that something was wrong was that backpack. The camp was supposed to last two weeks, but we only had a small pack with a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, and a cross for each of us. I had thought to ask my parents why we were taking so little, but I figured that it was an issue easily solved with obedience and trust. We’d be taken care of. Who cared about the particulars?
I really should have cared about the particulars.
We drove for most of the day and didn’t arrive until it was already dusk. We didn’t stop for food, either, so by the time we arrived, Charlie and I were starving. He was just beginning to whine and I was trying desperately to keep him quiet – my parents were in a surprisingly good mood, but they were known for their quick shifts in temper.
The camp itself was gorgeous. It was set out in the woods, following a narrow winding path that delved deep into the green. As time went on, I began to wonder if we were on a road at all – all traces of travel and humanity had ceased to exist. It made me think distantly of the Garden of Eden. We came upon the camp suddenly, its appearance announced by a stark wooden cabin with the name “Rebecca” printed on its front. It was joined a few meters away by another cabin named “Ruth.” There were twelve cabins in all, six bearing female names and six bearing male names, all Biblical in nature, of course.
Past the cabins was a small clearing that housed a group of kids, all about six to twelve. A few counselors were milling around, tending to the homesick kids and trying to make them feel at ease. I had to wonder if Charlie was going to cry – he’d never been away from home for this long before. Well, come to think of it, neither had I – but I fancied myself beyond the age of tears.
We pulled up alongside the group of our peers and stepped out of the car. Charlie clung to me like a leech, and I really couldn’t blame him. We had never seen so many kids in one place before. As our parents walked us over, one of the counselors, a big, cheery man with a nametag that read “Malachi,” bounded towards us.
“Wow, two more campers, I see! You all arrived just in time!”
“Sorry we’re late,” said my father. He smiled easily at the man. “Had a little trouble finding the place – it’s certainly secluded, as you said.”
“Of course. Isolation from the temptations of the modern world is a very important part of our camp,” Malachi answered. Then he turned to my brother and I. “And what are your names?”
Charlie was staring at Malachi, his mouth hanging open and his eyes bugging out of his head, so I answered for the both of us. “My name is David, and this is my little brother, Charlie.”
“Oh, you two must be the Stanton brothers!” His smile grew wider as he straightened up and looked at my parents. “I’ll cross your names off the list. Don’t worry, Mr. and Mrs. Stanton, they’ll achieve salvation here, just as promised.”
All these years later, I remember two things about Malachi: that unfaltering smile and his promise of salvation.
My mother and father hugged us each in turn, and my mother left us with some stern instructions. “Now, you two be good and do exactly what the counselors say. If you’re good boys, then you’ll be seeing us in just a few days.”
I blinked back my confusion. “I thought the camp was two weeks?”
My mom just smiled and replied, “Oh, of course. Silly me! I guess I’m just going to miss you so much!”
My father didn’t say a word.
And so they abandoned us to our fates in the middle of that forest.
That evening, compared to the days that followed, was fairly uneventful. First, we were assigned to cabins. Charlie and I were split up, as we fell under different age groups. I was in the cabin named Jacob, and he was in the cabin named Abraham. They were located right next to each other, so it wasn’t that bad. I figured that, if he became scared or upset in the middle of the night, the counselors could just come and get me.
By the time we had gotten settled, the stars were beginning to twinkle against the black sky. I was positively starving, as were most of the other children there. The first friend I made was named Tony, my bunkmate. As we put our beds together, he began to complain about the lack of food immediately.
“Man, my parents wouldn’t give us any food today. Do you think they’ll feed us supper?”
“They have to, right?” I responded. It seemed only logical, but there was a small part of me that wasn’t sure.
After that little opening, Tony introduced himself, and I learned that he’d come from almost a thousand miles away just for this camp. I was pretty shocked by that: this must be a great program, then.
“Have you ever been to this camp before?” He asked me.
“No, have you?”
He frowned. “No, I haven’t either… that’s weird. No one else I’ve talked to has been here before, either. The camp must be new.”
Before I could answer, the counselors called us all outside. We crowded around the fire pit, shivering in the cold air. You’d think it would be warm in the summer, but I can assure you that the wind bit hard that night. I had found my brother in the throng and pressed him close to me. I didn’t like watching him shake in the cold. As I heard the faint clicking of his chattering teeth, my misgivings became harder and harder to block out.
Our attention was diverted for a moment by Malachi’s booming voice. He stood in front of the fire pit as a few other counselors – Rebecca and Jacob, I would later learn – started a small flame. It grew with Malachi’s voice and cast sickly shadows across his face. It blocked out the color in his eyes and I began to wonder if they hadn’t always been black and I’d only just noticed.
“’Then some children were brought to Him so that He might lay His hands on them and pray; and the disciples rebuked them. But Jesus said, “Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” After laying His hands on them, He departed from there.’
“You, as children, are the innocent in flesh, the pure of mind, the little lambs of our lord, Jesus Christ.” Malachi’s voice was completely devoid of emotion. I felt Charlie’s shivers grow stronger as he spoke. “The goal of this camp is to prepare the lambs for Jesus’s return. We shall not rebuke our children. We shall not keep them from the Lord. We shall deliver them unto His hand to be treated with His divine mercy, lest the evils of the world should color the pure white of their souls.”
His speech was beginning to make me feel sick. Luckily, he went silent for a few moments as the other counselors began to pass something around.
I was desperately hoping that it was food – any kind of food, really, I was starving and I could tell that Charlie was worse off than I was. He knew better than to whine, after years of strict training and fasting from our mother and father, but that just meant he had developed other forms of rebellion. Mostly, he would begin to withdraw, his eyes going dim and his mind wandering. For some reason, the thought of Charlie like this was making me feel panicky. At least in the context of this camp. I’d rather he have his wits about him.
Once Charlie and I received our handouts, I was initially quite disappointed, and I almost felt guilty for that disappointment. It was a thin wafer with a cross printed on it and a small cup of sour, pungent red wine. The Eucharist.
I squashed down my feeling of disappointment. Well, I DID say that I would be fine with any kind of food… and this was technically food. I looked down at Charlie and saw him eyeing his wafer, struggling to keep the tears out of his eyes. Malachi had resumed talking, but I didn’t care anymore. All I cared about was Charlie.
I made sure the counselors weren’t looking as I slipped my wafer into Charlie’s hand. He looked up at me, relieved but curious. “You need it more than me,” I whispered.
“Thanks, David,” he answered as he crammed the wafers in his mouth. He downed the red wine and grimaced, trying to stop himself from spitting it out. I hoped that he was exaggerating how bad it was as I drank my portion. Again, I was disappointed. I’d never tasted something so bitter. It actually made my tongue numb.
Malachi droned on and I felt myself becoming drowsy. The combination of a day-long car ride and lack of food had exhausted me – and not just me. I noticed heads drooping all around my brother and I. Malachi must have noticed this, too, because he wrapped up his little speech with a short prayer. I tried to focus on what he was saying, but the words swam in and out of my head. All I could do was think about bed. I hoped the cabins would be at least a little warmer than it was out here.
Malachi dismissed us and instructed us to return to our cabins. I was more than willing to comply. I stumbled back towards my cabin on shaky legs. I really, really needed food. Or sleep. And, since it didn’t look like food was in my near future, sleep was going to have to do.
I had only gone a few steps when I felt a hand catch me. I stumbled to a stop and looked behind to see a counselor’s smiling face.
“David?” She asked.
I found myself grunting in reply. I didn’t think I was capable of forming words. I was starting to feel very strange. What was wrong with me?
“I’m Rebecca. My co-counselor Jacob and I would like to talk to you for a minute. Do you mind?”
I shook my head as they led me to the edge of the clearing. We stepped just past the edge of the trees when I felt me legs being swept out from under me. I pitched forward, my reactions woefully slow. My head struck the hard root of a tree and my vision became fluid, everything swimming in front of me with interspersed stripes of black. I wanted to struggle to my feet, but my body suddenly no longer seemed like my own. I couldn’t control my own muscles. I was just realizing this as Jacob – he must have been the one behind me, the one who kicked my legs out – stepped on my back, his heavy foot anchoring me in place. He ground his foot down hard and I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs. It hurt, God, it hurt, and I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t BREATHE…
And then Rebecca was down on her knees in front of me, staring at me with cold eyes. She was still smiling, but even I could tell that it was fake. She’d plastered it on there and must have forgotten to take it off when she and her friend decided to ambush me, I thought. With every passing second she seemed less like a person and more like a demon in human skin.
“Now, David. What happens when we sin?”
My head was spinning and Jacob’s boot stamped down harder on me. I thought my bones would splinter as I fumbled desperately for an answer.
When nothing came, I sputtered, “I-I don’t know!” My lungs were burning. I needed air.
Thankfully, the boot let up just a little bit as Rebecca looked at me with false sympathy. “You don’t know? Would you like me to tell you?”
“Yes!” I gasped out. The boot relented some more. Okay, good, I was answering correctly.
“When we sin, we are punished. We have to be punished so we can be good boys and girls. Would you like to be a good boy, David?”
In hindsight, my answer left something to be desired. Then again, what could I say to what was so obviously a trick question? “Yes!” I gasped, waiting for the boot to lift just a little more…
It didn’t. Instead, it came crushing down on me again and I heard something crack inside me. Shit, what was that? I wondered vaguely if Jacob had broken something. I didn’t have much time to think about it as Jacob decided it was his turn to question me, leading us down to the root of the problem.
“Why didn’t you take the Eucharist?”
A spark of recognition flitted into my brain as I thought back to Charlie. Of course, they couldn’t blame me for worrying about my little brother! I struggled to gasp out my words but the crushed state of my lungs made it impossible. Jacob grudgingly relented as my chest was seized with a coughing fit.
“My…b-brother!” I hacked some more. My throat and lips felt numb, but I could feel just a little bit of dampness running down my chin. It wasn’t until later that I would realize it was blood. “He was… hungry… didn’t h-have anything to eat…”
“Is that right?” Drawled Rebecca. Somehow, she made me more nervous than Jacob. Perhaps it was her pretend-nice act that did it. “David, don’t you believe in God?”
I didn’t really understand what that question had to do with anything, but I nodded violently. I do believe, I do believe, I do believe.
“Then don’t you believe that God will provide for your brother? Don’t you believe He will take care of Charlie?”
I hated the way Charlie’s name rolled off her lips. It made me feel worse knowing that she knew who my brother was. And what was this about God providing for us? Did that mean they weren’t going to feed us? I suffocated my fear and hid it deep inside myself, deciding that that was a question for another time, another time when I wasn’t about to be stomped to death. I nodded and said, “Yes, I believe.”
“Good!” She answered, smiling. Just like that, Jacob’s foot was gone and he was helping me up, a content smile spread across his face. I was dizzy on my feet, but only partly from my recent trials. My control over my own body was almost nonexistent, and he had to hold me firmly in place as Rebecca drew a white napkin out of her back pocket.
Inside the napkin was the host. She pulled it out and held her fingers towards me.
“Now. Open up and accept our Lord, David. Be cleansed from your sin.”
My mouth dropped open obediently. I could feel the blood more clearly this time and it was beginning to dawn on me what it was. I wondered where it was coming from exactly when she shoved the wafer into my mouth. I was filled with a sudden urge to spit it back out, but I didn’t. I swallowed it down and stared at her with owlish eyes, my fear plain on my face.
“Now, Jacob, why don’t you help David back to his room?” Said Rebecca.
And, just like that, Jacob was leading me towards my cabin, my feet stumbling with each step. What was wrong with my body? As the question arose again in my mind, I found myself thinking back to the sacramental wine, how bitter it tasted.
The wine… Did they…?
I didn’t have much time to think about it. Jacob got me into the cabin and tossed me on my bed. As soon as he was gone, exhaustion swept over my body and I found that I couldn’t keep myself awake anymore. I think it was my body’s way of trying to process what had happened – my mind simply shut down and I drifted off into a dreamless sleep, my fear lying in wait in the back of my mind.
* * *
The next morning was incredibly painful. I had to work to pull myself out of bed. Every breath made my chest scream in agony. I had forgotten about the blood until I saw Tony’s face pale as he pointed at my chin. As I washed my face in the one cold sink in the cabin, my nerves began to hum again. Tony asked me repeatedly what happened, but I couldn’t think of a way to answer. I wasn’t even sure what had really happened last night. My brain was beginning to wonder if it was real or imagined. Somehow, I really didn’t want to know.
I noticed that everyone else was as exhausted as I was, albeit missing the bruises that were beginning to seep across my skin. As we were ushered out back around the campfire, I began to wonder what exactly our “counselors” had planned for the day. I hoped that it involved food, because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go without it.
I noticed as we all gathered together that our group looked a little smaller than normal. I scanned the crowd, looking for my brother. He was there, at the other end of the circle. I would have gone over to him, but I could sense that the counselors had their eyes on me. It wouldn’t do me any good to stir up trouble.
“The cabin is missing,” A light voice breathed next to my ear. I turned in surprise and came face-to-face with a girl just about my age. She had long, dirty blonde hair fastened in a messy braid. She was pale and thin, but there was some muscle on her. She looked tough, and perhaps that was why she didn’t seem as exhausted and brain-dead as everyone else this morning.
“What cabin is missing?” I asked.
“Ruth,” she answered. Her face was stoic and if I hadn’t been looking for emotion, I wouldn’t have found it. But I stared carefully into her eyes and I could sense a bit of concern hidden in their green depths. “It’s my little sister’s cabin. She’s not here.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. “My little brother is here, too,” I answered. She didn’t respond, so I cleared my throat awkwardly and began again. “Where do you think your sister went?”
The girl shook her head. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
Malachi’s voice wormed its way into my head just then as he began his speech. I wanted to block it out and continue talking to the girl – something about her made me feel at ease, perhaps because she radiated power and control – but my attention was secured pretty quickly as he ran through the list of the day’s activities… if you could call them that.
“Our ancestors in the Holy Land had to make many a pilgrimage to return to the glory of the one true God. It is only right, then, that we, too, make a pilgrimage.” Malachi’s face was shining and a hardness glinted in his eyes that I didn’t quite understand. He continued, “Over the next few days, each cabin will make a journey to another campsite. This will help us all to bond with the Lord and learn to serve him effectively. In fact, this morning our Ruth cabin already went on its expedition. Undoubtedly, they have already seen the glory of the Lord!”
The counselors murmured a collective “amen.” I noticed the girl next to me stiffen – I had a hunch that she was the prototypical overprotective older sister.
Now, weak and hurt though I was, I was still a young boy. And, like many young boys before me, I had the unavoidable urge to impress the enigma that was standing beside me. There was something about her that I couldn’t ignore, something that felt suffocating and stiff in my chest, and the only way to let out those feelings was to do something unimaginably stupid.
I raised my hand slowly. It took a moment for Malachi’s eyes to fall on me, and his eyes narrowed in return. He was flanked by Rebecca and Jacob, who both stiffened upon noticing me. Rebecca’s face remained flatly pleasant but Jacob’s expression darkened considerably. Still, I held my hand firm and waited for Malachi to make his move.
He smiled at me. “Yes, David? Do you have something to say?”
There was a threat concealed somewhere in there – not so much in the words but in the way they dripped out of his mouth, threatening to burn me like acid should I step out of line. I gulped down my fear as I thought not only of the girl beside me, but of her sister and my brother. This was too important to let go.
“Yes, sir. I was just wondering, why we can’t all go on this ‘pilgrimage’ together?” My voice was saccharine and nearly made me sick, but it was worth the effect. Malachi didn’t seem to sense the anger and fear under my voice, and instead was caught off-guard by my supposed innocence. His smile became more genuine as he answered.
“That’s an excellent question, David. Thank you for asking it. We believe that you’ll be able to bond better with your cabin-mates if we make this a cabin-exclusive activity.” With that, Malachi continued to expound on the glories of God and camaraderie. The girl next to me let out a breath that I hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“You’re crazy,” she answered. There was a slight shake to her voice, but her posture remained straight and strong. It was extraordinary, really. I was still admiring her when she added, “I thought you’d have learned your lesson last night.”
My eyes went wide as the shock registered, but I continued staring ahead, hoping that no one would notice our clandestine exchange. “You saw?”
A nearly imperceptible nod. “I saw the counselors calling to you. No one was paying attention, so I followed you guys and watched. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered back. She’d seen that. Did that mean…
“What do you think of Malachi’s answer to your question?” She asked me, interrupting my thought.
“Bullcrap,” I said a tiny bit too loudly. No one seemed to notice, though, and the girl’s face broke out in a grin.
“Good. I think, then, we are on the same page about this camp.”
I grunted my assent. It was obvious to me now, especially with her practically voicing my opinion: something was deeply and seriously wrong with this place.
“What do you think we should do about it?” She asked.
To be honest, I wasn’t really sure how to answer that question. After all, we were only two kids at the mercy of these counselors and Malachi. Even if I could feel the urgent need to do something, what could be done? I hesitated, mulling over the question. I needed a push in the right direction, which is exactly what I got a moment later.
“The next cabin to leave will be cabin Abraham,” announced Malachi. My heart seemed to stop as my eyes shot towards Charlie. He was scanning the crowd uncertainly, looking for me. We locked eyes and I could see the fear plain in his face.
His cabin was led away. As they walked, I saw that they were given the Eucharist again. It seemed to me that they were given more wine this time, but I couldn’t be sure. My heart was sinking and my breath was ragged as I answered.
“We need to go after them.” I said.
I saw her lips twitch a little, trying to hold back a smile. “I was hoping you would say that, David, because that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“What’s your name, by the way?” I asked. For whatever reason, at that exact moment I NEEDED to know. If I didn’t, then I thought I’d have a full-fledged panic attack right there, as my brother was led away into the woods to God-knows-where.
“Tammy. So, David, how do you suppose we get around the counselors and Malachi?”
I didn’t have an answer for that one.
So there we both stood, brainstorming how to escape our predicament. Our captors. That’s what they were, I realized. They were captors because I didn’t feel free to move about, to leave if I wanted to. Even if they were only binding us with fear, they were still binding us.
Malachi was droning on as again as the counselors got ready to hand out the Eucharist once more. Next to me, Tammy hissed, “We need to create a distraction. That’s the only way that we’re going to get out of here.”
A wonderful idea, if only there was a way to do it without drawing attention to ourselves in the process.
Fortunately, someone decided to create the diversion for us, entirely independent of our scheming.
Maybe the blood on my face that morning had really spooked him, got him thinking about the strangeness of the camp. Or maybe he’d been thinking it all along, and after so many hours of being exhausted and hungry he had had enough. Either way, Tony decided that he wanted to leave and nobody was going to stop him.
He interrupted Malachi’s prayers and the distribution of the Eucharist with a loud shout.
“This is f***ing BULLS***!” He screamed.
Tammy and I froze in unison as the entire camp went silent. Malachi’s eyes slowly sought out the perpetrator. It wasn’t difficult to do, considering that Tony was fuming and his face was beet red. He screamed again, “What the f*** does this have to do with God?! You won’t give us anything to eat and you won’t tell us what’s going on, what the f***? I’m going home, you f***ing FREAKS.”
I had never heard the f-word so many times in my life. Sure, I’d managed to hear a few swearwords in my time, despite my parents’ best efforts to keep us kids pure. But something of that caliber had simply never crossed my mind. I could tell the other kids felt the same by the murmurs that suddenly erupted around us.
“Did he just say…?”
“There’s no way…”
“How can he…”
But not all of the mutterings were disapproving. I didn’t have time to voice any of my opinions before Tony started marching up to Malachi.
“I’ve had it with you and your bulls***!” He shouted. I wondered briefly what the hell he thought he was going to do when he answered my question: he lunged at the giant man, his teeth bared and his hands hooked into claws.
The counselors were on him in a second, their attention diverted from the crowd of children watching in petrified horror. I heard Tony scream and felt the blood creeping out of my face. I remembered what they’d done to me just for giving my little brother the host to eat… I didn’t want to know what was going to happen to Tony.
I was surprised when Tammy gripped my arm. “David, now. We have to go now.”
My body was as still as stone as I looked Tammy full on. Her eyes bore into me, her muscles tensed and ready. This was it, this was the moment. But it terrified me, somehow. What if we failed? What would we do? What would happen to us?
Tammy’s voice broke me out of my fear-induced prison. “This is our only chance, David.” Her eyes questioned me.
My body answered.
I turned and walked quickly and confidently towards the edge of the clearing. Tammy strode beside me, her eyes darting back and forth through the crowd, trying to determine if we had been noticed. As we slipped past the trees and into the forest, we both breathed a sigh of relief. The chaos of Tony’s breakdown was still echoing from the campsite, meaning that we were safe for now.
“Now” was the operant word, however. “We don’t have long,” I said, grabbing Tammy by the hand as we ran through the trees in the direction we’d seen Charlie and his cabin-mates go. “They’ll notice I’m gone because I gave them trouble yesterday. We have to find Charlie and your sister before then.”
And so we ran.
* * *
Now, I no longer believe in God. But I do believe in hell. I believe because those few minutes before we managed to reach our siblings were hell incarnate. Each agonizing second stretched into an eternity that I lost myself in. Even now, there are still parts of myself sunk in those minutes, those minutes before life changed.
Eventually, the patterns of sunlight began to shift and I realized that we were coming up on another clearing. Tammy and I slowed our progress, the gaps in the trees revealing four counselors standing in the clearing. The campers from cabin Abraham seemed to be sitting on the ground and praying. No, not sitting, I thought in confusion as I neared the edge of the clearing. No, they were lying down… was this some kind of exercise?
And then my stomach lurched and I felt Tammy’s hand clamp over my mouth, forcing my scream back down my throat.
Blood. Blood everywhere.
The little bodies were lying on the forest floor, all right, but they were eerily still, and it only took a few seconds to realize they weren’t breathing. Their necks and chests were stained with blood, the sticky substance already beginning to congeal. My eyes filled with terrified tears as I looked at all those little bodies – the kids couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. Thankfully, most of their eyes had slipped shut, but some still hung open, the color having already dulled and glazed.
Tammy’s iron grip held me in place until the counselors began to walk back to the original campsite. We kept ourselves hidden in a particularly thick copse of trees as their footsteps faded away, their low voices drifting towards us. What were they talking about? Did it matter?
I think, at that point, I was still in shock from what I’d seen. My mind must have been protecting me from the inevitable question that bubbled somewhere deep within me. But I couldn’t hide it away forever, and all too soon the name burst through my spitless lips.
“Charlie…”
I ran into the clearing with Tammy close on my heels, my eyes dragging from one still body to the next. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh, God, no. The closer I got to the center of the clearing, the worse the pain in my heart, until a sharp keening began to emanate from my throat.
He was one of the last. I found him towards the very center of the clearing, facedown in the dirt. I recognized him by his vibrant blue t-shirt – one of his favorites.
I knelt down next to him, my brain not daring to process the truth in front of it. Very, very carefully I turned him over. My brain was still numb as I saw the deep slash across his throat, blood so red it was almost black painting his pale skin. My hands were unnaturally steady as I yanked off my own shirt and wrapped it around his tiny neck. I couldn’t believe it, I just couldn’t, no, not my precious little brother, no.
I’m so glad I didn’t.
Because Charlie’s eyes fluttered. And his chest shifted ever so slightly. My hand fumbled towards the side of his neck, feeling desperately through the blood for his pulse. I almost screamed when I found it.
He was still alive. In spite of everything, Charlie was still f***ing ALIVE.
I gathered him in my arms, talking to him in a low voice, urging him to stay awake. In reality, I had no idea what I was doing, only that I didn’t want Charlie to slip away, not while I held him in my arms. I spun around to find Tammy so that we could get out of that hellhole, but she wasn’t behind me.
My eyes scanned the clearing wildly until hey came across her prone form, kneeling at the edge of the trees, a tiny body in her arms.
My heart sank again. Oh, God. Tammy’s sister.
It was then that I heard a commotion coming from the other campsite. F***, f***, they knew we were gone, F***. I ran over to Tammy, stumbling over bodies as I went. It sickened me to step on dead children like that, but I didn’t have time for sentiment or morality. I only had time to get out of there, to help Charlie, to help Tammy.
When I reached her, she was staring down at her sister. Her little sister had brown hair and large, staring eyes. She was one of those whose eyes were opened even in death. Perhaps she hadn’t drunk enough of the wine to be drugged out of her mind when they came for her. The thought made me sick, but not as sick as the thought of what would happen to us if we didn’t get the f*** out of there.
“Tammy, they’re coming, we have to go.”
Tammy’s eyes were broken – there’s no better way to describe them. They’d shattered apart the moment she saw the slash across her sister’s throat. Her hand was brushing through her sister’s hair and she seemed unaware of all the blood she was collecting on her fingertips. Her hand trailed down to her sister’s neck. A small, gold, heart-shaped necklace hung there with a delicate grace that contrasted harshly with the jagged cut in her flesh.
“TAMMY!” I shouted. It didn’t matter now how loud we were because they were coming for us anyway. Tammy silently shook her head, tears finally spilling out of her eyes. She wouldn’t tear her eyes away from her little sister. I took a deep breath and gave it one last shot.
“Tammy, we have to leave NOW. I know it hurts, I know, but your sister wouldn’t want you to die like this. Please, Tammy, we have to leave, we have to go!”
Tammy squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment and I saw her fighting with herself. I could hear footsteps crashing towards the clearing and I imagined Malachi’s hulking form tearing through the forest. I was about to leave her there when her eyes snapped open, glued back together with the firm resolve that I had seen there earlier. She ripped the necklace from her sister’s throat and stood up, letting the limp body drop to the forest floor.
She turned and ran, and I followed.
* * *
It seemed to take hours for us to get out of the forest. Hell, maybe it did. I don’t remember. Time didn’t seem to exist during that escape, as I held my bleeding brother and prayed to a God I no longer believed in that he would make it, please, just give me this one miracle.
We finally stumbled out into a ditch and climbed up onto a highway, where a passing pickup had shrieked to a stop. I suppose we were a sight to behold, covered in blood and nearly dead from exhaustion, not to mention me with my bruised torso bared in the cool evening air.
I don’t remember the man who found us. I don’t remember the ride to the hospital, either. My gaze was fixed on Charlie, on watching his slight but persistent breath growing more and more ragged, slowing to a near stop.
The man didn’t think he’d make it. Tammy didn’t think he’d make it. I didn’t think he’d make it.
But he did.
* * *
If I still had a shred of belief in God after that whole ordeal, it vanished as soon as I learned the truth. All of it, with nothing left behind. I know the officer who worked with Tammy and I took a risk in telling us everything, but I think he knew that we had already seen enough. We deserved to know the truth.
And so I learned that my parents knew exactly what was going to happen at that camp.
Malachi – or Thomas Jameston, as was his name by birth – had begun preaching only a few months earlier, but had succeeded in garnering quite the following of devoted worshippers. He claimed that the way to the Lord had been revealed to him in a dream – the police believed that he was delusional. I like that idea better, rather than believing that he’s just that sick of a person. However, I can’t bring myself to believe it. I have to believe he knew exactly what he was doing, especially when I think back to those eyes.
You see, Thomas believed that the only sure way to Heaven was to die as a child – children being pure, blameless, and innocent, of course. And so he and his followers put together this camp. They advertised it with utmost caution, seeking out only the most fundamental and extreme followers of Christianity. The people whose beliefs border on psychosis. And he told them his vision.
Bring the little children to Christ. They are lambs, and shall be delivered as such.
I was right about the wine – they’d drugged us to keep us quiet. It made sense that they hadn’t fed us, keeping us as weak as possible. They had been planning to slaughter us by cabin because they couldn’t have killed us all at one time – surely some of the kids would have had their wits about them enough to run away and they wouldn’t be able to catch them.
Kids like Tammy and I.
Every parent who sent their child to the camp knew exactly what was going to happen to them, because the parents were expected to prepare to receive their children in the afterlife. By the time the officers came to talk to Tammy and I, my parents had already been found with matching bullet wounds in their skulls. I suppose the same thing happened to Tammy’s parents, although she never did tell me.
I suppose you want to know what happened to the other kids at that camp. Once Tammy and I arrived at the hospital, we were greeted by some officers in the emergency room. We’d screamed out our stories – I doubt that they made much sense, but the cops were able to at least glean where this “hell camp” was located.
I heard that four of the officers working the case quit after they saw it.
Of course, there was that clearing full of the tiny little bodies, yes, we knew they would find that. We didn’t realize that the counselors and Malachi would slaughter the other children once they discovered we were missing. They had to make quick work of it, so they were riddled with bullet holes. Some of the bodies were found at the edge of the clearing – it was clear that they’d tried to run away. The officers had hoped and prayed that a thorough search of the forest and surrounding areas would yield some live children, but there was no such luck. Every other child died that day, save for Charlie, Tammy, and myself.
The counselors had died, too, by the way. They had inflicted their own bullet wounds, it would seem.
But Malachi? He was nowhere to be found. In fact, they’re still looking for him, even now. Somehow, I don’t think they’ll ever find him, although I never stop hoping.
* * *
Tammy, Charlie, and I were all adopted into the same family. We refused to be separated, not that they would have done that to us, anyway. We were known as “special cases,” meaning that we needed a metric f***ton of therapy and, of course, medication to help us get through, well, the rest of our lives.
Charlie was, in a sick sense, the luckiest of us all. When he woke up in the hospital, he didn’t remember anything about the camp. From the week before we left for the camp, he didn’t remember a single f***ing thing. So, I did what any big brother would do, and the police, surprisingly, let me: I lied out my ass. I told him we’d been in a bad car accident, that mom and dad had died, but we were going to be okay. He’d cried and cried and cried but it was better than him remembering the truth. The truth would have broken him.
The truth almost broke Tammy. She still cries for her sister every day, even now. She never takes the golden necklace off of her own neck – it’s an eternal reminder of what she lost that day.
There was some good to come out of all this, however. Tammy and I found in each other what some people never find. It’s been fifteen long years, but today we finally said our vows, with Charlie at my side as my right-hand man and her sister serving as a posthumous maid-of-honor.
Yes, Tammy and I got married.
I’m afraid every day for our future, if I’m honest. Although Charlie doesn’t remember what happened even now, he’s certainly realized that there’s more to the story than a simple car accident. He can tell it from the way I stiffen whenever he mentions our parents. And I know he’s been having nightmares lately, nightmares that wake him up with screams. I’m afraid the nightmares are about that camp… if he remembers, what will I do? I think about it every day.
Tammy is adamantly against having children, and that suits me just fine. We shy away from any mention of religion or a religious life. She’s strong – stronger than I could ever hope to be – but there are some days where all she can do is stare at the wall, whispering her sister’s name over and over again. Emily. That’s what she was called. I know it because of the way Tammy screams her name in her nightmares, even though Tammy herself never mentions her beloved little sister.
I wish she would, but she just isn’t ready.
The real question out of all this mess is: why am I bothering? Why write down this wretched, awful story for you all to read? Is it because I feel the world should know the truth? Is it to give vent to the pain I’ve carried inside myself all this time?
I wish it were that noble. I wish it desperately, but the real reason is far deeper, far colder.
I write simply because of the impossible. You see, the impossible showed up today at our wedding, and I simply can’t get it out of my head.
Because, as I slipped the ring onto Tammy’s finger, I looked out into the crowd… and I could have sworn that I saw Malachi grinning back at me.
The Day My Brother and I were sent to Christian Camp
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