The Bone Wall Read Free Page B

His law of forgiveness and mercy.”
    “Secondary, Julian,” Elie asserts.
    “We can’t leave them out there,” the first man repeats, his voice approaching the dais. “Will we stand by and watch children starve at our wall when we have fields of ready food? Is that what we consider here?” A sudden swell of voices surges through the gathering, a dissonant blend of support and protest without definition.
    “Peace, please,” Deacon Abrum’s rumbling voice rolls over the tide of divergent opinions. “One at a time. Please, one at a time. Barth, do you have more to contribute?”
    “I do,” Barth says, continuing where he left off. “We have food to share. We have stores, at least temporarily, until we determine a next step.”
    “Sustenance for Heaven,” Elder Demar argues. “You urge us to disobey God’s law? Risk his wrath for the tainted of Paradise?”
    “Are you suggesting infants and toddlers are tainted?” Barth challenges as the men’s voices once again rise up in argument.
    “We all saw the Biters.” My father declaration shuts them up. As my sister gasps, I realize that while she prayed for Paradise, she couldn’t see beyond the earthen wall. She never glimpsed the feral men and women at the forest’s edge. Her arms fold around her shoulders as she shudders.
    “Food isn’t the issue here,” my father asserts. “How long until the Biters attack? A day? Two days? Then what? We stand by in righteousness as we witness slaughter and rape? What happens when they begin roasting bodies on spits and feasting on little limbs? How long does it require to gorge on two thousand—”
    “Please, Julian,” Deacon Abrum interrupts, “there’s no need for grim details.”
    “But in truth, there is,” my father argues, “because that’s what we decide here. Barth speaks rightly; if we allow them into Heaven, we grace them with a little time.”
    Elder Demar huffs and clears his throat. “I am, of course, aggrieved for the descendants of Paradise, to this I attest wholeheartedly. However, God made His choice. If we allow them into Heaven, Julian, can any of us deny we defy His law?”
    “We cannot,” Deacon Elie whines, answering for my father.
    “Now then,” Elder Demar continues, “suppose we opt on the side of mercy and compassion…are we willing to jeopardize Heaven? Are we willing to upset God’s balance and risk the destruction of our own Garden, place our families, our infants and children in the mouths of Biters?”
    “Of course no one desires that end,” Deacon Abrum assures everyone, staving off another uproar. “Neither Julian nor Barth advocates for the destruction of Heaven.”
    My father repeats himself, “We simply suggest that we provide them temporary shelter until a solution arises.”
    “And if no solution is forthcoming?” Deacon Elie asks. “How will we force them out?”
    To that question, no man offers an answer, not my father or Barth.
    “Regardless of what we decide now,” a new voice rises from below, “what will we do when Heaven falls?” My sister sits up straight, recognizing Max’s voice. “Who will save us if we refuse to save Paradise? Will Utopia or Sanctuary open their gates? Do they still stand? Will God pity us or punish us?” If Max receives answers to his questions, we can’t hear them, the room in a state of unreserved discord. Deacon Abrum pounds his gavel while Elie and the other deacons shout for order.
    “Heaven won’t fall,” my sister whispers.
    “Yes, it will,” I breathe, words so faint she doesn’t hear. I press my hands over my ears as the rancor rises.
    “Quiet!” Deacon Abrum bellows. “Quiet or this assembly will be dismissed.” He whacks the gavel until I hear the handle snap and Deacon Elie’s surprised yelp. That silences the room to the extent that Abrum’s booming voice regains control. “We are not privy to God’s every whim,” he declares. “For this reason He gave us laws to guide us. If we abide by His