The Project by Courtney Summers

The Project by Courtney Summers

Author:Courtney Summers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group


My next interview with Lev is at the Garrett Farm, over the weekend.

Between this and SVO, it feels like I never get a day off.

I listen to his famous 2014 sermon—the one that supposedly predicted the 2016 election and its fallout—on the way, the sound of his voice whispering in my ear as the road disappears under the Buick. It’s better in the car today but only a little. The long stretch of highway is desolate, the absence of others keeping my anxiety to a dull roar.

I’ve received revelation.

The recording is muffled, as though made through someone’s coat pocket.

In two years, a darkness will settle over our nation, brought by a man who wears no masks. He is who he claims to be. He will call for a wall built on the promise of greatness, but the foundation is rot. The first brick laid will be fear. The second: ignorance. The third: hate. Your neighbors are no longer your neighbors. Their masks will come off, and they will spread the darkness. They will rally in hate. Innocents will die. Children will suffer.

No matter how many Project-related Reddit rabbit holes I’ve fallen down, I can’t find any offering proof that this recording is fake or tampered with. Lev said these words. They meant something to people then, they mean even more to them now.

History will be made in this dark time, but remember: whatever is born of God overcomes the world.

My phone rings, cutting through the audio, startling me. I grab it from the passenger’s seat and hit speaker, cutting off Lev’s voice.

“Hello?” Silence. “Goddammit, who is this?”

The call disconnects.

The recording resumes.

Stand with me in faith and our faith will overcome the world.

I tighten my grip on the wheel.

The farmhouse seems empty when I pull up. I get out of the car and take it in, wondering how life plays out inside its walls without me there to witness it. There’s an unavoidable performance that attaches itself to anyone who knows they’re being observed and I want to know what the day-to-day really looks like—if every breath in and out is prayer and gratitude, serenity, if you wake up constantly feeling a part of something.

What it’s like to wake up feeling like that.

No one comes out to meet me. I watch the door to the house a long moment, just to be sure of it, and then I grab my bag and make my way to the barn down the road in the opposite direction. This is where Lev first held Project meetings before it became a space for the annual sermons, before the crowds overwhelmed them and forced them to get the tent.

The door is half-open and I step inside, taking it in. I was expecting something more … rustic; Lev preaching next to the pigs. But this barn has been renovated—it’s the kind you rent out for weddings. Clean. Shiny hardwood flooring. Old farm equipment displayed artistically on the walls. Hay bales accent the overall aesthetic. Their smell tickles my nose.



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