Dark Lord Rob's DarkForce

Into the Compound

     After a brief and volatile if hushed confab, it was agreed that Shana's plan of storming into the compound was impractical, not least because the Guardians were armed and we weren't. A few bullets might slow Shana down a bit. They'd sure put me right into reverse.
     So we left the car with the girls and went inside with the first guard. Shana and Maggie were going to head into town to do some research on the place at the Historical Society; they'd come back for us in three hours.
     It didn't quite work out that way. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Foreshadowing, right? Yeah, I learned something in English class. Still not sure what a "gerund" is, though.
     Once inside the gate the guard had us sit on a bench while we waited for a "Guide". Taking no chances. These guys were seriously paranoid, though friendly enough. I was a bit nervous it was gonna be one of those places where they smile a lot but never let you leave, like the Stepford Commune or something like that; but Nathan would get us out. People listen to him. He annoys me, but it's good to have him along when things look a little dicey.
     I don't know why he likes to have me along; I suspect he just likes having an audience.
     A big ol' chevy pulled up and another uniformed Guardian got out, a smiling public relations type. "Hi kids!" he said, like some bozo on a clown show. "Want to have a look around? I'll be happy to fill you in on our mission and the good work we do here! And don't worry..." - I must have looked worried - "We aren't one of those 'hard sell' organizations. We aren't actively recruiting; though if you like it here, you're welcome to stay!"
     "We're just researching a story," Nathan said. "No offense."
     The P.R. guy laughed."None taken. I've seen all the same movies you have. This is no 'Jim Jones' set-up; this is a legitimate religious enterprise, as I'm sure you'll agree once you've taken the grand tour. My name is Steve. Would you like some Kool-Aid?"
     He said the last line in a sinister Boris sort of voice and we both laughed. It was hard not to like Steve, mindless cult zombie or no.
     "Come on, get in the car! We've got a lot of ground to cover." We climbed into the luxurious boat of a car; Nathan took the front, I, of course, the back. Steve drove. pointing out sights as we went.
     "The Brotherhood of Guardians takes its religious work very seriously," Steve said. "You'll find there's a very cloistered, monkish sort of atmosphere here. Many of our acolytes have taken vows of silence... though some of the younger Guardians delight in trying to trip them up. 'Hey, Brother Bill, what time is it?' 'Why it's... darn it! You kids!'"
     We laughed, and the road took us past a large, elaborate garden. "Beautiful, eh? God's handiwork, helped by man. A great place to meditate. We can walk through there before you leave if you'd like. It's really something to see."
     "We'd like that," Nathan said, "But first I have a few questions. Why are you called the Brotherhood of Guardians?"
     Steve hesitated for a moment. "There's a reason. But I believe Brother Woodbine would like to tell you in person."

Next:Brother Woodbine

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