The Church Beneath the Roots by Felix Blackwell

Author:Felix Blackwell [Blackwell, Felix]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

A few days ago, the town of Autumn Ridge had been bustling with folks excited to put on a feast. For the first time in a year, the air had felt electric, both with the spirit of Yōktha and with the approach of a vengeful winter. But in six brief minutes, the rare exuberance had been shattered, and the town seemed to die in its lonely seat on the mountain.

Now the town stirred once more, but this time like a graveyard full of wandering spirits. People came out of their homes and into the streets, shuffling wordlessly into small groups and heading to the east side of town. In silent processions they drifted up the church road, staring out into the square where the unspeakable tragedy had occurred. Heavy snow covered the area now, concealing the remnants of gore that had stained the earth there—but it did nothing to hide the memory of it from the survivors. Each of them looked on the place as if the killer still lurked there with his rifle, screaming raggedly about the dreadful things “down in the hole.”

Four Christians had died by Luke’s hand: Samuel Cotter, Gaylen Poor, Abigail Skye, and Faith Sommers. The two Pozi women had been his first victims. He’d gone to the church, perhaps intent on slaying Burke Voth, but found it empty, and headed toward the feast. He met Faith and Skye along the road, who’d likely greeted him with smiles, having known Luke their whole lives.

The church now held a service for them. Voth led the surviving families inside at the head of the line and filled the remaining pews with townsfolk. So many people crowded the building that some stood in the back of the house, and others listened from outside in the cold. Even a few federal agents came to pay their respects.

Inside, Voth delivered a prayer of comfort. He related stories of each deceased person’s virtues and, at times, did so laboriously, his voice freighted with ill-concealed anguish. While eulogizing Samuel, by far the youngest of Luke’s victims, his practiced elocution broke to candid remarks about the tragedy of it all. Eventually, Voth fell silent, overcome with grief. Brother Duncan finished for him.

Onwé did not know the etiquette for Baptist funerals. He didn’t know the words to their hymns, nor had he ever heard their sacred music. Nonetheless, he felt compelled to honor the Christians in the Christian way, as he had so often called them to honor the traditionalists in the Old Way. He prayed for the souls of the dead and hoped his father would forgive him for engaging in the rituals of the colonists. In that moment, for the first time since he could remember, he felt like a part of the group, rather than an outsider looking in.

Onwé had asked Moya if she wanted to attend the service to honor Samuel, but she’d seemed unable to bring herself to face the permanence of his death by ceremonially acknowledging it. So

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