Ashes of the Sun by A. Meredith Walters
I hated everything they were.
Except for the children. Little Rosie, sweet Darlene, smart Dakota.
My stomach lurched at what they had just witnessed. Their innocence was murdered on the wood floor beneath their feet.
I couldn’t save them. No matter how much I wanted to.
There was no going back. I couldn’t return to the fold now. I would never be able to look into the eyes of my family and see anything but David’s senseless death.
“No, Bastian. I didn’t know. But I know now.” I took his hand. I squeezed it tight. I dug my fingers into his skin until he saw my truth. He’d bleed with it.
“I know now,” I repeated.
His face softened slightly but his grief was too much. His tears fell. One at a time. But he continued to stand. Holding himself up. Holding us both up.
There were cracks. But he wasn’t broken.
I know now…
“He’s gone, Sara. David…he…” He let out a sob, his fist covering his mouth. “That man made him. This was all orchestrated. All of you are expected to…”
His eyes went crazed. “Don’t they get what he’s asking them to do?” He shook me. Hard. “Don’t you see, Sara? Don’t you fucking see it?”
“Yes. I see it, Baz. I see everything!” I shouted in his face. Trying to snap him out of it. I looked through the window into The Sun Sanctuary. The disciples were making their way to the door. Soon they’d find us here. We didn’t have much time.
Bastian was unclean. He had no place at The Retreat. And I wouldn’t have one either.
Not anymore.
“We have to go,” he said, his entire body shuddered and then stilled. “I have to tell my parents. We have to notify the police. We have to do something…”
And still the silence continued. It was malicious. Oozing with ill portent.
Then I made a decision. It was the only one I could make. It lacked in confidence but was comprised of the deepest type of emotion.
And maybe that was the only faith I needed.
Faith in him.
Faith in us.
Faith in a world beyond the gate.
It washed away everything else.
“Let’s go.” I wouldn’t smile. Neither of us could bear the façade of joy.
Instead we would face sorrow together.
Bastian dried his tears and took a shaky breath. “You’ll come with me?” he asked, sounding so much younger, so vulnerable.
“Of course I won’t stay here. Not now. I’m leaving with you.” I hesitated for just a moment. “But what about the children? Rosie? Dakota? Pia?” I couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving them here. To this.
What they must have seen…
Bastian’s eyes were hard pieces of glass. Sharp and almost scary. “We have to leave, Sara. We can’t help them from in here.”
I nodded. He was right. Staying at The Retreat wasn’t possible for us. We would have to figure out another way to save them.
And we would. There was no other option.
Even if that meant destroying everything I had ever known.
Bastian pulled me to him. Crushing me to his chest, his lips found mine. Bruising, not tender. He poured his horror into me. I swallowed it up.
We would leave. There was no other plan to make. No other path to follow. That was all over now.
We’d run as fast and as far as we could.
Away from the fire.
I would learn to live with the cold.
“We have to be quick. They’ll be looking for us,” I told Bastian as we jogged down the narrow path towards my house. We’d gather my things first. Then we’d head to his house.
Bastian was uncharacteristically quiet. He said little as I grabbed some clothes. The bracelet I kept hidden beneath my mattress. A last gift from my dad. And of course Bastian’s book and the picture he drew for me. I didn’t have a bag to put them in so I pulled the sheet off my bed and used it as a sack, tying it at one end.
“David never had a chance,” Bastian murmured, standing by the door, watching me with deadened eyes. “Carter—I won’t call him a Pastor—” he spat out, “he preyed on his weaknesses. He used it against him. He wanted him to be an example to the rest of them. He called David his fucking guide! I can’t believe you people believe the shit he sells! He’s a psychopath!” Bastian picked up the small wooden chair and smashed it against the wall. Fragments went flying, hitting me in the face.
Bastian’s face paled. “I’m sorry, Sara. I shouldn’t have done that.” He pulled himself together, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Let’s just get out of here. We can talk about all this later. We need to focus on leaving.”
“I’m so sorry, Bastian,” I had to say. It felt so insignificant, but it was something.
I would never be able to make up for what he lost tonight.
I wanted to hurt Pastor Carter. I wanted him to suffer.
“Come on,” Bastian held open the door and we slipped out.
“Where are you going?”
My mother’s voice froze me in place.
No, not her. Anyone but her…
Bastian wrapped his arm around my waist. He didn’t respond to my mom. He wouldn’t answer for me.
“I’m leaving,” I said, my voice shaking.
“I always knew you’d shame me,” she replied, her lip curled in disgust.
Bastian stepped forward, shielding me from the woman who had set me on this path to begin with. “If anyone should be ashamed, it should be you.” He pointed in her face. “You brought a young child into this deranged world. You chose yourself and your fanaticism over what was right for her. You should be ashamed. You!”
Mom completely ignored him. It was as though Bastian hadn’t spoken at all. She looked at me, her eyes boring into mine. “If you leave, you will be dead to me. I won’t risk my eternal life for someone tempted by sin. Someone so ungrateful that she is willing to throw everything away for carnal pleasures.”
“Did you know Pastor Carter expected me to marry him?” I asked her.
“What the actual fuck?” Bastian growled beside me. I didn’t look at him, my eyes were trained on my mother.
She didn’t respond, but I could tell by the tightness around her mouth that what I said upset her.
“Pastor is a great man, you should be so blessed to live by his side.” Her words were strangled, her expression hard.
I shook my head. “I only ever wanted you to love me. Not as some supposed prophet of God, but as a mother. I wanted you to protect me—”
“Don’t be such an idiot. There are things in this world greater than you. Greater than a mother’s love for her child. Your feelings aren’t important. My feelings aren’t important.” It was then that I could see my mother’s hurt. Her anguish.
The agony of watching the man you love attempt to claim your daughter…
Then any sympathy I felt for the woman standing in front of me evaporated. She didn’t love me. She knew I was being groomed by a man old enough to be my grandfather. And she did nothing. Pastor Carter was the only thing that mattered to her. That and her calling. She didn’t care how I felt. She never really had.
The sooner I stopped expecting her to act like a parent, the better off I’d be.
“That fucking sicko,” Bastian muttered. I yanked on his arm to silence him.
“I’m leaving, Mom. I won’t marry Pastor Carter and I won’t be Awakened. It’s not a spiritual path. It’s a death sentence.” I wanted to scream at her to hear me. To, for once, listen to what I had to say. “David’s dead because he believed the lies Pastor told him. He’s dead, Mom.”
“He’s in the arms of the Father now. He has been granted the greatest gift.” Mom’s eyes clouded over and she seemed to be in some sort of trance. “Pastor Carter led him home.”
“You crazy assed bitch—” Bastian snarled.
“Stop it, Bastian. Don’t waste your breath. She’s past hearing anything,” I told him sadly.
Mom watched us as we pushed past her. I thought I saw her lift her hand to touch me as I walked out the door. But when I looked back she was still as a statue.
I turned my back on her. I walked away. I closed the door on her. On our family.
Bastian and I made our way down the gravel path. I knew we only had minutes until everyone knew we were leaving.
Then what would happen?
Would Pastor Carter try to stop us?
I didn’t want to risk it.
“We need to hurry.”
We stopped just outside Bastian’s house. He hesitated. “I don’t want to go in there.”
I frowned. “Don’t you need to get your things?”
“I have my phone and my wallet. Carter had me sign over my car, so I don’t need keys. There’s nothing else I want.” He took a step back.
“What about David’s stuff? Is there anything of his you want to take with you?” I asked softly.
He shook his head, taking my hand. “I don’t want to remember him like this. How he was here. I’d rather forget.”
I understood. If I could erase things from my memory I would.
“I need to talk to Anne before we go,” I said.
Bastian kissed my temple. “Of course.”
I knew the way to the house Anne shared with her father like the back of my hand. I knew the nooks and crannies of the tiny two-bedroom building. I had memorized the number of flowers on her pillow case—eighty-five—I knew how many red butterflies she had embroidered on her quilt—six. I had always felt comfortable there. Relaxed in a space I accepted as part of my childhood.
Now, it felt as hollow as the rest of The Retreat.
“Anne, you in here?” I called out, tapping lightly on the door before pushing it open.
Only an empty space greeted me.
“Anne?” I walked into her father’s small room at the back of the house. There was no sign of either Landes.
I returned to the main living area. Anne’s bed, a tiny twin in the corner, was neatly made. Her oil lamp sat unlit on the rustic table beside it. The well-worn Bible lying just where my friend had left it.
“She’s not here,” I said more to myself than to Bastian.
“Doesn’t look like it.” Bastian stood in the doorway, not coming inside. “Sara, I don’t mean to rush you, but I think we should get out of here, and soon.”
I agreed with him, but it upset me to think I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye. To see how she was doing after what happened to David. I knew she would take it hard. I suspected her feelings for the older Scott ran as deep as mine for the younger.
“I can’t just leave her. Not now.” I picked up her pillow and hugged it to my chest. The idea of walking away, leaving Anne behind at this place, was unconscionable.
“I know,” was all Bastian said.
“She loved him, you know,” I told Bastian, my eyes filling again. I had cried more in the last twelve hours than I had in the last ten years.
Bastian’s own eyes grew bright with unshed tears. “And he loved her. She was the best thing to happen to him in a long time.”
And that mattered.
So much.
I squeezed the pillow, twisting it with my fury before slamming it back down on the mattress. “He’s the devil. He should burn in…h—hell,” I stammered, conditioned shame making it almost impossible to say.
I could hear voices off in the distance. Bastian looked over his shoulder. “We need to go, Sara.”
“What am I supposed to do, Baz? She’s my best friend. My sister. I can’t leave her after everything that’s happened. I can’t disappear without her knowing.” Panic rose in my chest. Leaving was hard enough without letting Anne down in the process.
Bastian crossed the room and picked up the Bible, flipping it open to a blank page at the beginning. He ripped it out and handed it to me. “Leave her a note. Tell her we’re going to my parents’ house in Ohio. Their names are Laura and Nick Scott. I’ll give you their address and my cell phone number. She’ll know where we are.”
This was the first time I heard what our plan was. I felt a little better knowing we had a destination.
“Okay. I’ll do that. It’s something at least.”
The voices were getting louder. We didn’t have much time. I found a pen on the desk in the corner and hastily wrote Anne a letter. Bastian recited the address and phone number so I could write it down. I implored her to leave The Retreat. To come and find me. That I’d figure out a way to take care of us.
And that I was so sorry about David.
That I loved her.
I folded the paper into a square and tucked it in her pillowcase where I hoped her father wouldn’t find it.
We quickly slipped out the door and into the trees. The crunch of leaves beneath our feet sounded too loud in the night air.
We waited for the group of Gathering disciples to pass by. I tensed at the sight of Stafford, Bobbie, and a few others carrying shovels, heading in the direction of the small plot reserved for the Carter family cemetery.
“What are they doing?” Bastian whispered.
I couldn’t tell him.
“Doesn’t matter. We need to leave.”
I started to turn away when movement caught my eye. I paused.
I saw Anne walking towards her house, her father by her side. Pastor Carter on her other side, his arm around her shoulders. Her head bowed.
My stomach lurched. I was going to be sick again.
Pastor Carter was talking to Mr. Landes, who nodded agreeably.
I started to push my way back through the trees, towards Anne, but Bastian held me back.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
“But Anne—” I looked back at my friend, watching her disappear into the house with her dad and Pastor Carter. Deep down I knew this was the last time I’d ever see her. Grief unlike anything I had ever felt pierced the very flesh of my heart.
“You left your note. She’ll know how to find you. If she doesn’t contact you, then you know there’s nothing else you can do,” he said softly, gently tugging on my hand.
Bastian was right. But still…
He kissed my cheek. A sweet gesture after the atrocities we had witnessed that night. “Sometimes you have to save yourself and only yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Wasn’t there?
But I knew there was nothing else I could do. Staying here wouldn’t help Anne. It most certainly wouldn’t help me.
And then there was Bastian…
“Come on,” I said and led him through the trees.
I stood just inside the gate, looking towards the road.
I hesitated.
I couldn’t breathe. Uncertainty constricted like a fist in my stomach.
I wished the sun was warm on my back. To feel its heat in this place one last time. My final connection to everything I was leaving behind.
My home.
My family.
My purpose.
“You ready?” he asked with a sigh. I knew he was eager to get going. I was the one holding us up.
I shook my head and said “yes.” The smallest of sounds. Barely above a whisper. But I knew he understood my contradiction. He understood in the way only another person preparing to jump off a cliff could.
“What if I can’t do this?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. It felt like a betrayal giving voice to my worries. I should be strong. I should be determined. Like Bastian, I should feel eager and full of the desire to flee. But I felt childish and insignificant.
I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. I wanted to howl at the sky. I wanted to beat him with my fists. Claw him with my nails. I wanted to scream at him for making me love him. For showing me the ugly truth I had never wanted to see.
I closed my eyes.
Breathe.
That’s all I was capable of.
I started at the sudden contact of skin. His fingers threaded through mine. The pres
“You can do this—” he began.
“What if it’s awful out there? What if the world swallows me up?” I felt silly saying those things. Especially considering what had happened tonight. What Bastian had lost because of the place we were leaving. But the terror of the unknown forced them from chest. Unrestrained, my concerns held me tight.
He took my chin in his fingers and turned me so I faced him. I couldn’t get used to him touching me. It unnerved me. It overwhelmed me.
It was the ground crumbling beneath my feet.
“Sara, it’s okay to be scared. But remember, there is nothing beyond those gates that is any worse than what we’re leaving behind.” His eyes were hard. His face resolute.
He kissed me. Fortifying me with his lips. Reminding me why I was doing this. Why I stood in the dark of night, my family behind me, his mouth on mine.
Love was my purpose.
Him.
Us.
Together.
“Hope is like the sun, which, as
we journey towards it, casts the
shadow of our burden
behind us.”
-Samuel Smiles
Sara and Bastian’s story continues in
(The Gathering of the Sun- Part 2)
Coming Soon
Everything I had been raised to believe is a lie.
Prayer became the voice of dishonesty.
Manipulation was disguised as faith.
Abuse was masquerading as devotion.
And the man I worshipped as a leader, as a father, has been revealed to be a monster.
The only choice I have is to run.
To leave The Gathering of the Sun behind me and try to build a new life in a world I have been told is full of evil and corruption. A world that will destroy me.
Love will be my guide. And Bastian will help me search for the girl I could have been. The girl who was erased by the people claiming to be my family.
But hope is a fragile thing. And holding onto it in the face of fear and doubt feels almost impossible. Because even the sun can’t keep the clouds at bay.