CHAPTER 67

1 November, 1856
As the last of the sun’s rays shone daggers over
the tree tops, and purple shadows like the claws of a giant hand
grasped their way across the clearing, Preston emerged from the
temple with his dark eyes seeming lost and far away. The whispered
prayers of his people quickly hushed to silence as they all looked
up at him from their clasped hands.
The campfire crackled and spat, and around them
there was quiet save for the gentle hiss of shifting trees.
His remote, disengaged manner unsettled them. Right
now they needed to know their First Elder was still empowered with
certainty, righteousness . . . touched by the Almighty.
Mr Stolz was the first to speak up and break the
silence. ‘William? What are we to do?’
Another spoke. ‘Night is almost upon us and they’re
still there.’
The flickering light from their campfire reflected
in the deep sockets of his eyes.
‘I entered the woods and prayed for guidance,’ he
said. ‘I was ready to die for you, for God to come to me, to take
my life and spare yours.’ A tear glistened on his sallow cheek. ‘I
would do that for you, because I love you all like my
children.’
His voice faltered. ‘I thought we had been
forsaken, abandoned by Him, abandoned by His angel, Nephi, and left
alone in this empty place with those outsiders. I thought we’d
failed him. I feared He had judged us through Eric and Saul and
found us wanting. But then it came out of the trees. It came to me,
large and powerful.’
He took a deep breath, and smiled at them all. ‘I
was with the angel!’
Across the assembled crowd, he could hear the sharp
intake of breath, whispered ‘amens’ and the keening tears of relief
and joy from both men and women.
‘God is with us. God has a mission for us
still.’
One of the women dropped to her knees and cried
with relief.
‘There will be no vengeance wrought upon us
tonight. We’ll not face Eric’s fate, nor Saul’s, nor
Dorothy’s.’
‘Thank you, Lord,’ Mr Hollander bellowed.
‘He asks of us one thing. To flush away those
others across from us. They must be gone. And when what needs to be
done here is done, we can finally begin work on God’s beautiful
message. Remember this well, because tonight will be the night the
first true faith of our Lord is born, and the apostasy of all the
false faiths will be at an end.’
Several voices cried out, and a feverish sound of
lips and tongues at prayer spread across his people, like the roll
and hiss of a wave across a shingle beach. He allowed them time to
pray and give thanks before continuing. There was need for that
now, to show God their humble gratitude. When he could hear the
concluding mutterings of ‘amen’ uttered from the gathering gloom,
he spoke once more.
‘The angel confirmed what I feared. We have allowed
devils to gather around us like jackals. They may look like people,
they may walk and talk like people, they may bleed just like
people, but they are nothing more than an evil deception.’
He shook his head. ‘The Devil nearly fooled us with
them, didn’t he? With their fair skins, little ones resembling
sweet, innocent children - looking so much like we do. But all
along the Devil was mocking us with his clues. The dark-skinned
family, the Negro woman, the savages from the woods. The Devil was
laughing at our stupidity, showing his presence amongst them and
mocking God!’
‘I heard say . . . that the white men over there
have been sharing their wives with the savages!’ called out Mr
Larkin.
Several women gasped.
Preston nodded. ‘I fear it might be true, Jed. I
too have glimpsed things at night over there; gatherings around the
fire, the noise of cloven feet, the chattering voices of
evil.’
An uneasy murmur spread amongst them.
‘I have seen . . .’ Preston lowered his voice to a
hoarse whisper that carried loudly across the gathering. ‘I have
seen the curved horns of the Devil emerge from amidst their fire,
his head that of a goat, turning towards us, staring across the way
at us . . . challenging us!’
‘Oh Lord, please . . . please be with us!’ someone
cried.
Preston clamped his eyes shut and clasped his hands
together. ‘Pray now with me!’ his voice commanded deafeningly.
‘Pray with me now!’
They chorused his words.
‘Oh, Lord, forgive us our weaknesses. We see now
how we have let you down. We see now that those of us who died -
that was your warning. That you are prepared to spare the rest of
us, we are eternally grateful. That you are prepared to let us
prove ourselves to you this night, we are eternally grateful. That
we will be your first true followers of the true word of God, we
shall be eternally grateful. Tonight, we make amends. Tonight, as
you ask of us, so we shall obey! Now, we will purge this place.
Amen.’
‘Amen,’ a hundred voices rumbled.
Preston unclasped and lowered his hands, breathing
deeply, sending tendrils of vapour out through his nose.
‘Gentlemen, gather your guns. Mothers, wives, sons and daughters,
gather what tools you can find. Tonight we have to cleanse this
place of poison. Make it a sacred place, so that Nephi can come in
from those trees out there, and finally be with us.’
‘Amen,’ several of them chorused together.
‘Amen,’ he replied. He shook his head and lowered
his voice, tempering it with regret. ‘It is grim work He asks of
us, but necessary work. None of them can remain here alive.’
He looked up at them. ‘You understand what God is
instructing us to do?’
‘To kill them,’ a woman called out.
‘Yes, that’s correct. To kill all those agents of
Satan. Go now, get your guns and return here!’
Preston’s people rose swiftly and disbanded in
different directions; a hustle of activity, of boots crunching on
compacted snow.