Foretold by Carrie Ryan Read Free Book Online Page A

police ever came and we needed to protect ourselves. In case they ever took him away. I bet he never thought we’d have to use it like this. Or maybe he did—a gift for those of us left to fight. A final miracle for the righteous to carry us through the end of days. After all, he was granted the prophecy. He must have known there would be some of us left behind after it was fulfilled.
    Maybe he even knew it would be me.
    There’s food and water there, medicine and fuel and blankets—enough for the entire congregation to last six months, and I’m sure longer when it comes to supplying only the people who are left.
    Sam’s eyes are wide as spotlights when I unlock the door and he sees the shelves and the cans and the storm lanterns arrayed along the wall. They go even wider when he sees the guns.
    “What are those for?”
    I shrug. People used to say horrible things about Father and the rest of us. They called us a cult. They accused him of lying to us, and made all these dire and false predictions about how he planned to make us all commit suicide with poison pills or lethal Kool-Aid. It was ridiculous. Why would we commit suicide and risk the eternal life we were promised?
    Sometimes they even made threats. I remember timeswhen Father had to lock the gates outside the compound against people who wanted to break in and kidnap their family members or friends who had heard the truth and decided to come live with us. They wanted to hurt our followers, to kill Father. We needed to protect ourselves, protect what we’d created out here.
    Of course, it never came to that. And the government left us alone, no matter what the critics said. Father always supposed it was because at least some of the people in the government knew his prophecies were true.
    And though the occasional doubter did manage to turn a follower away from our righteous path, it never led to violence. In fact, the worst violence I ever heard of was from one of the followers who had been kidnapped by his family. They’d locked him in a room for weeks, interrogating him, starving him, trying to break him. He finally recanted all his beliefs in Father and in us so they’d let him free. As soon as he was able, he came home and told us what had happened to him.
    People on the outside can be so evil. No wonder this wretched earth needs to be washed clean.
    Obviously we can’t carry too much with us, but at the same time, we need to bring enough to fulfill any immediate needs, as well as to convince the remaining people on the compound that I have their best interests at heart, and that I’m fully prepared to provide for them. Sam watches me gather supplies for a little while, then places his hand over mine.
    “You know, Bright … maybe we shouldn’t go back right away.”
    “Why not?” I ask. “What’s to gain from letting people suffer?”
    He looks at me. “You don’t think you can stop their suffering, do you?”
    He has a point. The end times will be terrible, no matter what I do.
    “And,” he continues, snatching his hand back and looking about the storeroom wildly, “everyone is so angry right now. I think maybe it’s not safe.…”
    Safe? Sam must have seen something awful to run away. How fitting that the violence everyone assumed we were capable of arrives only after our truth has come to pass. My father was right to teach me how to use the guns.
    “Like if we wait a few days, maybe people will be calmer, more willing to listen to what—to whatever you plan to tell them.” He meets my eyes. “Do you know what you plan to tell them?”
    I bite my lip. “No. But you’re right. A plan would be good.”
SAM
    A plan
would
be good. Unfortunately, I don’t have one either. It’s been two days since Bright Child led me into the woods. Two days of camping out in Jeremy’s stupid storeroom, watching Bright pray and plan and eat, and two nights of lying beside her while she sleeps, listening to her breathe and feeling the heat pour off