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What I really wanted to say was ‘that’s fucking crazy’.

He nodded toward the old chapel. “The shelter entrance is in there. Oh, and before we go in, I must ask you not to speak to any of the girls or women you might see while we’re down there, under any circumstances. As you can imagine, it frightens them to see outsiders, let alone talk to them.”

“Of course. I won’t say a word.”

My mind whirled as he led me into the old chapel. How in the hell did the cultists convince all these young women to live underground? I understood the point about them being scared after the terrorist attack where they lost their mothers, but still, going to ground—literally—for over a decade afterwards seemed like such a weird decision to make.

Not only that, the amount of money and effort it would’ve taken to build the underground shelter in such an inhospitable environment was enormous. It was crazy. Seriously crazy.

What the hell had I gotten myself into here?

Jacob directed me to what looked like an enormous metallic storm door on the floor at the front of the church, where the altar or pulpit might’ve once stood. He opened it and stood there with his hand out, that creepy bright smile on his face again.

“After you, Mason.”

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