Camp Damascus(76)

“Willow,” she snaps.

Dr. Smith shrugs, ignoring this. “I’m only here on Thursdays, so the chance of you running into a doctor who might just shoot you in the back was fairly high.”

“Eighty-five and some percent chance it was someone else on duty tonight,” I announce. “Fourteen and change it was you.”

“And that’s not enough for you to regain a little faith?” Dr. Smith asks.

“No,” I reply flatly.

Saul steps forward, prompting Dr. Smith’s fingers to dance across his weapon in a strange, subconscious reply.

“Bullshit,” Saul snaps. “You made a deal with the devil, and now you’re gonna lecture us about who has the most faith?”

“And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you,” Dr. Smith retorts. “This is a small price to pay to change the world! Look at you! You’ve all been delivered from your sins of the flesh!”

Saul shakes his head. “And on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it,” he counters.

“And there are varieties of ministries, and the same Lord,” Dr. Smith snaps back, then laughs a bit. He’s pleased with himself. “I could do this all day.”

I can’t take this anymore. “It’s almost as if the Bible can be twisted into supporting whatever point of view you want,” I blurt.

Dr. Smith breathes in slowly and lets it out, assessing the situation. I can see now that an office lies behind him, featuring a simple desk and some filing cabinets stacked high against the far wall.

It’s nothing like the ritual chamber from my previous vision, no flat wooden table or humming, whirring machine.

He notices me glancing over his shoulder and smiles.

“You’re here for the machine,” he observes. “Hoping to shut off the holy radiance of our Lord and Savior like it’s a light switch? You’ve read enough of the good book to know God’s will doesn’t bend because you’re upset over His tough love.”

Willow angrily interjects, unable to hold herself back any longer. “You dumb fuck, you’re attaching demons to innocent kids. You’re not speaking for God.”

“We are saving them!” Dr. Smith cries out. “Saving you! Do you know what those things do once they drag someone to hell? The horrible things they carry out on those who let sin overtake their lives? Kingdom of the Pine may be ruthless, but we are not cruel.”

“I saw one of them twist a girl’s head around backward,” I retort.

“With righteous purpose!” Dr. Smith angrily counters, growing frustrated by this audience that dares question him. “We instill the mercy of God in them, quick and painless. Have you seen what happens when they’re left to their own devices? The transmissions from beyond?”

A flash of horrific imagery fills my mind, visions of human bodies flayed alive and left to suffer. Nauseating displays of exposed nerves plucked like guitar strings. He’s absolutely right; these creatures are brutal when left to their natural habits.

“You’ve seen what happens to those who spit in the face of God,” Dr. Smith continues, his expression softening, “and that’s not something I want for any of you.”

He hesitates, his rage fading.

“Let’s get you tethered again,” he finally offers.

“No fucking way,” Saul interjects.

“I’m afraid you don’t really have a say in the matter,” Dr. Smith replies. “You must understand, I can’t just let you walk out of here. You’re a threat to the decent work we’re doing.”

“Don’t do this,” I blurt. “You can pull out any shred of Scripture to convince yourself the ends justify the means, but if God is this brutal, what’s the point of worshipping him in the first place? If the big guy is really signing off on this torture, then I’m not on His team whether He’s real or not. I don’t think you wanna be on that team, either.”

Dr. Smith listens intently. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I spotted the faintest flicker of empathy lurking behind his cold expression.

Saul steps forward to interject. “We’re not asking you to question God’s existence. We’re not even asking you to question His motives. We’re saying your interpretation might be off. God is infallible; man is not.”

Dr. Smith falters again, his face cracking even more. At this point, the fury has disappeared completely.

He’s deep in thought now, genuinely touched by our words. “I’m in awe,” Dr. Smith finally observes, chuckling to himself. “The devil has a very clever tongue. In my younger years, I might’ve gotten swept up in that. Unfortunately, you’re too late.”

“It’s never too late,” I plead.

Dr. Smith laughs. “No, I’m afraid it’s literally too late. I pushed the security alarm the second you came down those stairs.”

My blood runs cold. “What?”

“They’ll be here any time now,” the doctor continues. “You didn’t really think I’d have some come-to-Jesus moment, did you? Jesus is already guiding my hand.”

A wave of crushing defeat overwhelms me as I recognize the awful truth. We’re trapped.