The Font

Church bells pealed from every belfry in town, marking noon. Summoning the citizenry.

Tommy nudged his brother. “You awake? It’s starting.”

Brent rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then peered through the gap in the boards covering the broken window. The abandoned building they were squatting in used to be a storage garage for the foundry on the outskirts of town. The only thing in it now were bugs, rats, and the occasional animal carcass. And if he thought about it—which he tried not to do—droppings from the rats and animals that became carcasses.

And now, him and his brother.

They’d been there since Mom got taken five days ago. Janey Levenson snuck them food once a day. No one else knew where they were hiding. They could trust Janey. The two of them had been in love since the first grade.

Besides, they couldn’t leave the garage. It had the best view of the Font.

He scrambled to his feet. Dusted off the seat of his pants. Spat on his palms to wash away the dirt.

The border of Pleasant Valley ended at the river. The garage and foundry used to be the last structures in the town proper. Until the Wizen commissioned a new structure at the riverbank. Their rational?

Where better to baptize their converts than by the water?

Townspeople shuffled toward the clearing in front of the Font. Friends and neighbors the twins had known for fifteen years were now barely recognizable. Drab clothing hung on gaunt male frames. Bonnets and shawls covered the bent heads of the women and girls so Brent only knew who they were by the men who accompanied them. There were probably six hundred people, give or take.

Before the baptisms began ten years ago, Pleasant Valley had a population of over nine thousand.

A Wizen prefect stepped to the front of the group with Caleb Williams and Sarah Jacobs in tow. Sarah was the only woman in town whose head was not covered, and she was probably the only one wishing it was. Her cheeks were scarlet, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. Caleb’s face, on the other hand, was pale, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he continuously swallowed.

The prefect pulled them forward so each flanked him. “Brothers and sisters. Devotees. I am sorry to say we still have unbelievers in our midst. But thanks to the honesty and good conscience of Brother Williams and Sister Jacobs and their families, our town is safer tonight. They turned in the infidels. For that, they will receive extra rations this week.”

A smattering of lackluster applause came from somewhere in the crowd, probably from the Williams and Jacobs families.

“Is that it?” the prefect asked. “I present to you heroes, and that’s the level of enthusiasm you muster?”

The clapping grew louder. A few people cheered.

Caleb and Sarah both looked down, unable to meet anyone’s gaze.

The prefect, on the other hand, stared out into the throng gathered before him. “Do you not celebrate because there are other doubters among you?”

A chorus of denials rose from the crowd.

“Hmm. We shall see. In time, all evil-doers are eventually found. And they’re either converted or eradicated. Today’s subjects have undergone a rigorous deprogramming routine. It is time to see if it worked. Those who now believe will be baptized into our faith. And those who don’t will be expelled from our community. Wizen Fredericks?”

One of his minions pushed a button on the control panel. Machinery whirred to life somewhere inside the Font. Soon, smoke billowed from chimneys on its roof.

“Bring out the candidates for baptism!” the prefect cried.

Wizen guards came from around the side of the Font. Two of them hauled Mr. Jorgenson between them. He dragged his feet the whole way, cussing and bucking.

Another duo brought forth their charge.

“Mom!” Brent and Tommy said in unison.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd.

She walked between the Wizen with her head held high, almost regal in bearing. Because she wasn’t struggling, the guards barely held her elbows, leaving her hands free. Instead of them hanging at her sides, they were clutched up near her neck.

Brent knew what she was doing. She was holding her necklace—the heart-shaped charm that held a picture of him and one of Tommy. It had been a gift from their father. Mom never talked about him, and neither he nor his brother remembered him. She cried whenever they mentioned him, so they stopped bringing him up years ago. She didn’t wear her wedding ring or any other jewelry, but she never took off that locket.

“I present candidates Jim Jorgenson and Ellie Brandeis.”

Usually there was a speech about the possibility of salvation. But this time, without ceremony, the prefect opened the door and had Mr. Jorgenson shoved inside.

The garage was close to the Font, but even so, it was impossible to hear if there were screams. For that, Brent was grateful. Because he felt like there were.

Of course there were.

The prefect raised his hands. “If Jim accepts conversion, his baptism will cleanse him. He will walk out the other side part of our community. I invite you all to go welcome him into our fold.”

Murmurs broke out among the crowd. Even the Wizen guards looked at each other in confusion. The people were never released to the river before all the subjects had entered the Font.

“Well? Go!” he bellowed.

The citizens hurried around the back of the building to wait for a convert that would never appear. Smoke continued to belch into the clear blue sky, tainting the brilliant afternoon with human ash.

The Wizen dismissed his guards, so that only he and Mom remained on the platform.

“Well, Ellie?”

“Well, what?”

“You know I have the power to save you.”

“I thought my baptism was supposed to do that.”

He sneered. “Tell me where they are, and I’ll spare you.”

“No.”

“I’m tired of asking.”

She shrugged.

“You have no play here.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’ll die.”

Mom lifted her chin. “You’re going to kill me, anyway. At least they’ll be safe from you and this craziness.”

“This craziness has kept me warm through the winters and fed for years while most of the world starved. While you hid like a feral rat! I’m trying to protect my family.”

“You have no family. You gave up that right when you chose this over them.”

He reached for her locket, ripped it from her neck. “Tell me where my sons are!”

Brent gasped. His blood chilled.

“Never!” Mom screamed.

“Baptism is a miserable death, Ellie,” the prefect spat. “Your skin melts off your flesh as your lungs boil. It’s pain and suffering. An agony I can’t begin to describe. And it’s too good for you.”

“It’s better than being with you.”

“I’ll find them.”

“No. You won’t. Because they’re nowhere near this godforsaken town.” She snatched her necklace from him, opened the door to the Font, then ran inside.

Brent couldn’t hear her screams, either, yet somehow they echoed through his head. Through his heart.

They blended with his father’s screams. The prefect’s fists were raised to the heavens as he cursed his former wife.

Tommy burst into tears.

How Brent wanted to join him. But there wasn’t time. “We need to go.”

“He’s our father. He can help us.”

“He’s a Wizen. He’s the head of the Wizen!”

“That’s right, Brent. We’d be safe with him.”

“That’s not what Mom wants. She died to keep us from him.”

“But we can’t live on our own out there!”

“So, you’d sell out? Stay with a mad man and make Mom’s sacrifice mean nothing? Because it’s easy?”

Janey slipped into the garage. She handed each of them a knapsack. “It’s enough food and water to last a week if you ration it. I heard my folks talking about a resistance camp in Gettysburg. If you can make it there, you might have a shot.”

Brent wrapped his arms around her. She was trembling more than he was. “Thank you.”

“Wasn’t that the site of the bloodiest battle of the Civil War?” Tommy asked. "If that's not an omen, I don't know what is."

“More people have already died in this war, and that was just the first hour. If we still had Internet access, I bet we'd be floored by the state totals, let alone national and global numbers.”

"I don't want to think about it," Janey said.

Brent stepped away from her. He shouldered one of the bags, then held the other out to his brother.

Tommy took the knapsack. “None of this feels right.”

“Since when did it?” she asked.

“Fair point.”

Tommy rolled his eyes.

“When will I see you again?” Brent asked.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she shook her head. “Just be safe.”

He pressed his lips to hers. They were warm and soft and tasted like the only home he ever knew. “Come with us.”

“I can’t.”

“And I can’t stay.”

“I know.”

“Janey, if you stay here long enough, someone’s going to turn your family in for cleansing.”

“Dad’s talking about leaving.”

“Don’t wait too long.”

“You’ll probably see us in Gettysburg a few days after you get there. Now, go! This will all work out. I know it.” She shoved them toward the door.

When they opened it, her mother was standing there with two Wizen guards—and their father.

Janey stepped across the threshold to join them. “I’m sorry, Brent. But it’s for the best. For everyone. You’ll see. This way, we can be together. And we’ll all be safe.”

The words weren’t out of her mouth when the guards dragged her and her mother away, screaming.

“Janey!” he cried. But it was no use. She was gone. The Levenson family knew the prefect’s secret. That meant they wouldn’t be coming back.

“Boys.” The Wizen prefect—their father—grinned. “I’ve been looking for you for years. I’m your dad.” He opened his arms.

Tommy stepped eagerly into his embrace.

Brent stared in the direction Janey had been taken. Gazed at the back of his brother’s head. Glared up at his so-called father.

Then he ran for the Font.