Page 10 of Torn

“I know, darling,” he said. “But I’ve fixed it.”

“It looks the same,” I choked out, wiping my eyes as we drew closer.

“Only above the ground. Beneath it, I’ve built New Eden.”

I was too shocked by his reply to continue crying or arguing. The words and tears simply dried up.

We entered the musty old church a moment later. Up at the front, there was a huge metal hatch lying flat on the ground where the first few rows of pews and a pulpit used to stand. It looked just like a storm shelter door I once saw in a movie about a tornado in another state.

“Daddy, we can’t go underground!” I said, struck with a sudden black terror. It wasn’t possible. My mother explained to me a long time ago why we couldn’t have underground shelters or basements in Louisiana. The water table was too high. That was what damaged this church in the first place. We couldn’t even bury bodies in cemeteries in certain parts of the state; that’s how much water was in the soil.

“All things are possible under the new God’s protection,” my father said, voice calm and clear. He pulled the metal door open and I saw steps descending into darkness. “Go on, little lamb. Go down there. I have to return to the house to gather the others.”

“No!” I cried, clutching at his shirt. “It’ll flood. I don’t want to drown!”

My father smiled patiently and knelt so that he was at my level. “Darling, you must trust me. This place was designed and engineered by the best of the best. Building underground safety shelters is not impossible here, contrary to popular belief.”

“It is! Mommy said so.”

He shook his head. “She was wrong.”

I folded my arms. “Mommy is never wrong.”

He rubbed the side of his head and sighed with exasperation. “I’ll try and explain a little bit, okay? It’s a huge task to build underground structures here, because massive French drainage systems have to be set up, but it’s still possible, and with the help of all my contractors and their staff working day and night, I’ve made it happen. Just as He commanded me. Do you understand?”

“No. What’s French drainage?” I asked. I was so confused. Everything was happening so fast.

“It’s a way to pump out water from the ground. It’s perfectly safe, darling.”

I glanced warily at the steps. “I don’t want to go down there,” I murmured. “I’m scared.”

My father stood and gently pushed me. “Go. There are already a few people in there who can show you around. I have to go back and try to save the others. All you have to do is walk down.”

I sniffed and wiped my face again. “No, I can’t.”

“Please, darling. What happened today is just the beginning of the Great Reckoning. The fires are going to start soon, and I need you to be safe when that happens. I need as many members of the church as possible to be safe.”

I could hear the desperation in his voice. It made me think of all the others out there, screaming and terrified, desperate to get away from the horrible men with the guns.

“Okay,” I finally whispered. “I’ll go.”

He smiled. “Good girl.”

I took a deep, shaky breath, and then I stepped down into the darkness.

---