Because next time I’ll be prepared. Except that he’d lost the element of surprise. Now Mercy would know he was coming, and she and that Fed brother of hers would make plans.

They’ll be ready next time.

So will I. Because there had to be a next time. He needed Mercy, preferably alive. He needed to prove to Pastor that DJ was a lying sack of shit and needed to be dealt with.

Hopefully by meeting his fate with “wolves.” It was Eden-speak for someone who’d questioned authority and had been quietly killed in the middle of the night. It might be one person, or a couple, or even a whole family. It depended on how widespread the rebellion ran.

It was Ephraim’s job to deal with the rebellions and it was one of his favorite Eden responsibilities. Mauling the body postmortem to make it look like “wolves” was just icing on an already fun cake. It was also an important job because it kept the innocents from wandering at night. It convinced those who were considering questioning them not to do so.

“You can pull off at this exit,” Ephraim said and June obeyed. If she weren’t so old, he’d take her back to Eden, but she was nearly as old as Pastor. She wouldn’t be able to pull her weight and they already had too many elderly members who sponged off the rest of them.

When he was in charge of Eden, he’d help their elderly meet their Maker expeditiously. That way, he’d get rid of the dead weight and the few who remembered the community’s beginning at the same time. Win-win.

June took the exit, slowing as they approached the end of the ramp. “Where—” She faltered, letting loose a loud hiccuping sob.

“Turn right,” he said, irritated with her.

She did and he was pleased to see that it was a farm road. Nobody around.

“Pull into that little road on the left.” It was an orchard. Lots of cover in the trees. It wasn’t picking time yet, so it could be a while before her body was found.

June did as she was told, crying in earnest now. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

“Be quiet.” He opened the side door and got out, then opened her door and shoved the pistol into her ribs. “Put the car in park and get out.”

“You promised!” she wailed. “I did what you said!”

“And I said be quiet!” he barked, yanking her from the driver’s seat. “Walk. When we’ve gotten far enough, I want you to face one of the trees and count to five hundred. I’m taking your car, but you can flag down help on the road.”

She stumbled, her body shaking with her sobs. Wheezing in breaths, she finally made it into the orchard.

“This one,” Ephraim said. He’d make it quick. No reason to torture her further. “Face the tree.”

She did and he shot her in the head, then once again as her body hit the ground to be sure she wouldn’t survive to report him to the police. The shots echoed in the quiet of the early evening, and Ephraim ran back to her minivan to get away quickly in case the sounds of gunfire drew attention. He hadn’t fired a gun in a while and had forgotten how loud they were. Should have just broken her neck. Would have been quieter. He’d remember that in the future.