Page 10 of Homecoming: The Devil's Society

Fuck me.

My eyes widen, taking it in.

“When I was five, I was introduced to the lifestyle. One question at dinner with my dad and his friends about killing aperson, turned into my tendencies being nurtured. My dad never got mad. He only asked how he could help. He then set me up with a mentor to hone my craft. He never made me feel different or fucked in the head.”

E points his bat in another direction beside me, but farther up the property. “That’s the shed.”

Just as I suspected.

“At the time, I didn’t realize that dinner was full of powerful people who also supported my learnings. Before my question, they were just my dad’s friends who came over often. But then everything changed because of one fucking question.What is the best way to kill someone?Maybe things do happen for a reason, I don’t fucking know. But it seems to have all worked out.”

I want to look at him, but I worry he will stop sharing if I do, so I continue looking forward.

He lowers his bat next to him again and continues, “As years went on, I went from learning the fundamentals at five—torture, dismemberment, and disposing. To kidnapping and killing by the age of ten, when I left here for Blackwood. My mentor always told me, ‘You can’t kill if you don’t know how to handle the bodies after. Usually there is a cleanup crew, but not in all cases. You have to fucking know how to cover your tracks.’And he was right. It’s how I got so fucking good at what I do. Because of him, my dad, and that fucking shed.”

Before I can stop myself, my mouth opens and the question comes out, “Who is your dad?”

E chuckles, looking back at me with a sinister smirk decorating his face, “Welcome to The Exodus, Rain Sinclair. I am a Disciple, my father is an Elder, and you, my little bat, are a Pawn.”

I am a fucking what?

My brows rise, and my face has to be screamingexplainbecause his response is quick. “The shed.”

Pulling on my hand, E starts to walk and I follow, making our way to the shed, which must have been like a second home to him.

Unlike this monstrous home, which is very Colorado in its exterior, the shed has white siding, gray shingles, with a white solid door and a silver handle. A similar keypad as the gate next to it.

Then I notice, it has no windows. For good reason.

Elijah places the pad of his finger on the keypad scanner, and then the lock clicks as it finishes scanning. His hand grabs a hold of the cold door handle and he takes a deep inhale, then blows it out slowly.

Pushing the door open, it’s dark. Immediately, I smell dust and have a couple rapid sneezes exit me. No one's been in here for years, I suspect, as E flips the light switch on, a single overhead fluorescent light turns on, which illuminates the space. Nothing has been covered with sheets to protect the furniture and equipment. A thick lining of dust is covering the area.

We step in, the floor creaks beneath us, which is covered in larger white floor tiles, some of which are broken, and underneath you see the wood floorboards exposed.

A table takes up most of the space, and the walls are lined with the same cabinets and countertop that E has in Blackwood, along with a tiny sink.

As we step in farther, I close the door behind us. It’s chilling how familiar the space is, but it must also be comforting to him.

“The Exodus is a society of very wealthy and powerful people who control the government and underground. From the police, to the mayor, and all criminal activities. If it happens in Vail, The Exodus knows about it and most likely is involved. Every ten years, new initiates get brought in. We call it The Reckoning. We get free rein of the city for ten hours, on the tenth day of thetenth month of the tenth year. During those ten hours, we are free to do as we please, even more than we usually are.

“Locals have heard stories over the years, they usually prepare their homes and stay inside the entire time or leave. Tourists are naturally at risk, as they are blindly unaware. Sometimes Elders, like my dad, give suggestions on what we do. Sometimes we get to decide on our own.

“During The Reckoning, there is a party in the woods at a giant home, done up and over the top. My personal version of hell. But the home is equipped with things we may need to fulfill certain plans. They are technically called sacrifices or party favors, depending on who you talk to. These individuals usually have been very naughty and must be put back in their places, then they are given an option: join us or die. If they join us, they are Pawns, the bottom of the ranks; they do what we say, they are the bitches of The Exodus. I am a Disciple, a born member. The Reckoning is to bring us into the ranks along with additional Pawns. At some point, the Elders show up and watch as we play. But some members don’t even make it to the party. They get carried away before showing up.”

My eyes are wide as my brain tries to take everything in.

This shit actually exists. Groups like this.

Then again, my bio dad was the leader of a fucking cult.

“You are a Pawn, for now. We are fucking one. They will see that and you won’t be called a Pawn for long. You are a fucking Sinclair. A Disciple.”

How is this my life? From a small town only months ago, to The Chapel, and now The Exodus.

Every moment of my life has been preparing me for this moment.

Each experience helps me navigate the next.

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