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town.

King didn’t have the energy to stop them.

Violetta said, ‘She’s alive.’

‘What?’

King looked through the crowd and saw Maeve’s lips fluttering. It wasn’t a miraculous reincarnation. She was on death’s door. She had maybe a minute left.

Violetta said, ‘I need to speak to her.’

King said, ‘No.’

Violetta said, ‘There’s no threat. Look at them.’

The disciples were catatonic. Half of them were still standing, but eventually the ones still milling around the house would all sit in the dirt, reconsidering everything. King had no idea whether they’d double down on their beliefs or shirk them. He wasn’t about to hang around to find out. He wasn’t a counsellor. He was an operator.

Violetta walked forward and moved through the crowd.

No one stopped her.

King stayed where he was.

If Maeve had anything to say, he didn’t need to hear it.

107

For the first time, Maeve looked human.

Probably because she was so vulnerable.

Violetta knelt down beside her. Maeve was curled into the foetal position, her face pressed to the pool of blood that had formed from the excess fluid running down her back. The exit wounds had bled far worse than the entry wounds.

Her eyes were half-open.

Violetta had no idea whether she’d get a response or not, but she said, ‘Do you know what’s happening to you?’

Maeve’s eyes opened a millimetre further. She tried to focus unsuccessfully, but she seemed to sense the blurry blond hair kneeling over her and half-smiled in recognition.

Violetta said, ‘Did you hear me? You’re going to die. Do you understand?’

She didn’t know why she was saying anything. Maybe she wanted to see under the mask, and this would be her only opportunity. Would Maeve die delusional, or would she finally see the truth?

Maeve’s voice was barely a whisper. She mumbled something.

Violetta bent down. ‘What?’

Maeve muttered, ‘It doesn’t matter.’

Silence.

Violetta said, ‘It should matter. You thought you were invincible.’

‘Oh, well. It’s … not about me.’

A rare statement for a destructive charismatic.

Violetta said, ‘What’s it about?’

‘Bodhi,’ Maeve whispered, her dying eyes now alive. ‘It’ll outlast all of this. Just watch. We’re flesh and blood. It’s everlasting.’

‘It’s a bundle of drugs.’

‘Yes.’

‘So you acknowledge it’s not the key to enlightenment?’

‘When … did I say that?’

Violetta said, ‘It’s dex, MDMA, and benzos.’

Maeve’s hazy gaze finally settled on Violetta, and she managed to focus for a single moment. ‘You’ve seen what it does. You think it matters what it is?’

She let go, and died.

Violetta stayed crouched over the body for a long time, stewing over the words. It was hard to accept that Maeve was right. So long as someone had access to the compound and knew a smattering of persuasions, the dream of Mother Libertas was alive. The Riordans were the founders, but cults don’t die with their creators.

Ideas live on.

She knew what she needed to do.

She couldn’t change what Bodhi did, but she could change what those who took it understood about it.

She stood up and turned around.

Those who were left watched silently. They were harmless, anaesthetised by despair.

Violetta said, ‘You were all taking Bodhi to reach enlightenment. What you never knew is what it really is. It’s a mixture of three powerful chemicals. Dextroamphetamine, found in Dexedrine; MDMA, also known as molly or ecstasy; and benzodiazepines. That’s why you felt the way you did. Just because it’s not mystical doesn’t make the feeling any less incredible, but I want you all to know exactly what it is they were doing to you. You were drugged without your consent or knowledge. If some of you have more of the stuff, there’s nothing stopping you taking it. But understand the cognitive dissonance. Think about what it is and why you’re dependent on it. There is no cause. There is no creed. The mantras were false and empty and only existed to keep you loyal to the Riordans. You were slaves.’

The disciples stared back. A handful understood. The rest had vacant expressions on their faces.

Violetta said, ‘There’s nothing more I can say. What you do now is entirely up to you. Hopefully at some point it hits you what happened here. If not…’

She didn’t finish.

She walked back through them, and again no one stopped her. The animosity was gone, snuffed out with Maeve’s life. Any followers that were still enraged were keeping it suppressed after seeing what King had done to the red-haired man.

Violetta joined King on the other side of the crowd.

It wasn’t much of a crowd anymore.

She counted eight people left standing. Maybe a dozen sitting down. The rest had dispersed.

King said, ‘What do we do now?’

Violetta said, ‘Nothing. We’re done here.’

They walked away to find Slater.

108

Alexis heard the gunshots.

She stood up, lifted the binoculars to her eyes, and stared out the window.

Took in the scene.

When she lowered them, she found Brandon and Addison on their feet. The hallway was still empty, unpopulated. The remaining disciples were all over the commune — running, hiding, walking away. Some maybe mustering the courage to fight. But whatever resistance they could manage would be futile after what Alexis had seen.

Brandon said, ‘What is it?’

Alexis aimed her Beretta at his chest.

Addison muttered, ‘No. Please.’

Alexis lifted the aim to his head.

Addison screamed.

Alexis waited for the echo to fade, dissipating from a screech to a whisper as it bounced off the distant walls and the roof far over their heads.

In the following quiet, she said, ‘I’m not going to kill you. But I need to make sure you don’t try to kill me.’

Brandon said, ‘Why?’

‘Maeve is dead.’

His eyes burned. His tongue lolled in his mouth. His cheeks went bright red and his brow furrowed, like someone had flipped his entire world on its head. In the sacristy he’d been anaesthetised by fatigue, impartial to what came next, but now the foundations of his belief system were shattering.

Addison’s frown turned to a relieved smile.

Alexis said, ‘Do you understand, Brandon?’

‘It’s impossible,’ he spat. ‘She’s—’

‘She’s a dumb bitch,’ Addison said, finally letting out what had been trapped within for months. ‘Don’t you see that?’

Brandon wheeled, his face twisted in disgust at hearing blasphemy, and started

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