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Astrid’s face and neck flushed red, betraying her guilt.
“And then maybe you can explain why you stopped Sam from taking Zil out before Zil burned down the town.”
Astrid managed a wry smile. “Don’t you lecture me, Howard. You’re a lowlife drug dealer.”
She could see that the insult hit home.
“If people want to buy things, I make sure they can,” Howard said. “Just like Albert. Anyway, I never put myself up on a pedestal and said I was some big deal. Me and Orc, we do what we do to get by. We’re not the ones being so perfect and mighty and above it all.”
“No, you’re beneath it all,” Astrid said.
Part of her knew that as long as she kept this personal between her and Howard, the others wouldn’t jump in. But that would get them nowhere. Accomplish nothing.
“You still haven’t explained anything, Astrid,” Howard said, as though reading her mind. “Forget me. I’m just me. What about a girl who was dead and isn’t dead anymore? And what about kids saying they’ve seen Drake walking the streets? You got any answers, Astrid?”
She considered bluffing. Another time, another day, she would have found a way to heap frosty scorn on Howard and shut him down. But she couldn’t seem to find that inside herself. Not now.
“You know, Howard,” Astrid began in a wry voice, “I’ve made a lot of mistakes lately and—”
“And what about the Prophetess?” a different voice broke in. “What about Orsay?”
“Mary?” Astrid couldn’t believe it. Mary Terrafino, her face red with anger, her voice crackling.
“I just talked to my brother. My brother, who never in his whole life ever lied to me,” Mary said.
She walked down the aisle of the church. The crowd parted for her. Mother Mary.
“He admitted it to me, Astrid,” Mary said. “He lied. He lied because you told him to.”
Astrid wanted to deny it. The words of denial were on the tip of her tongue. But she couldn’t make them come out.
“Mary’s right, everyone,” Howard said. “Astrid told us all to lie. About Brittney and about Orsay.”
“Orsay is a fake,” Astrid said weakly.
“Maybe,” Howard said. “But you don’t know that. None of us know that.”
“Orsay’s no fake. She told me something only I knew,” Mary said. “And she prophesied that a tribulation was coming soon.”
“Mary, that’s an old trick,” Astrid said. “This is the FAYZ: a tribulation is always coming, in case you haven’t noticed. We’re up to our necks in tribulation. She’s manipulating you.”
“Yeah, unlike you,” Howard said, his voice dripping sarcasm.
Every eye was on her. Disbelieving. Angry. Accusing. Scared.
“Orsay says we can step out on our fifteenth,” Mary said. “She told me to lay down my burden. That was what my mom said in her dream. Put down my burden.”
“Mary, you must know better than that,” Astrid said.
“No. I don’t know better,” Mary said so quietly, Astrid almost didn’t hear her. “And neither do you.”
“Mary, those kids need you,” Astrid pleaded.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, this had become life and death. What Mary was talking about was suicide. Astrid was sure of that much. Logic told her this was probably true. But her faith told her even more certainly: giving up, surrendering, accepting something that at the very least looked and felt like suicide could never be good. That was a joke that God would not play.
“Maybe not,” Mary said softly. “Maybe what they need is a way out of here, those kids. Maybe their moms and dads are waiting for them and we’re the ones keeping them apart.”
And there it was: the thing Astrid had feared from the first time she heard of Orsay’s so-called prophecies.
