Chapter 44 Tammy and David

Along one side of the riverbank, dusk crept in, gathering among the dense woodlands like a shrouding smokescreen. It was the longest day of the year as final preparations unfolded for the inaugural night of the summer solstice at Bohemium Grove's two-week-long celebration.

Counselor David stood apart on the narrow backwater, overseeing several construction workers rushing to complete their jobs before nightfall. Bizarre altars were erected, and a digger was waiting to discharge its shipment of charcoal.

High above, a crane operator was engaged in lowering a cylindrical bowl forged from bronze that was as large as a swimming pool into an excavated pit with the help of his banksman. This bowl was more than simply a plain vessel; elaborate esoteric carvings ornamented it. Ruins of faded rites surrounded the bronzed edge with blackened inscriptions and symbols.

A corkscrew staircase, hewn from the same bronze, spiraled down one side, leading to a flat bottom spacious enough to accommodate about twenty people.

Once all work had been completed, David inspected the charcoal-filled pit with a critical eye, ensuring the careful charcoal piles reached the desired height. Now the subterranean space just needed the arrival of its participants for the night’s proceedings. The stage was set, the players were ready, and Bohemium Grove was about to come alive under the discerning eyes of Wang's and Pushkin's cohorts.

David crossed the historical wooden bridge spanning the water. On the opposite shore, Tammy, the girl scout, bustled between the long trestle tables laden with silver platters and bottles of wine, scribbling names and details onto ornate cards. Caterers scurried between truck and table, and floodlights were hoisted into place around ropes with twinkling lights strung between the boughs, bathing the function area in a soft glow.

She glanced up from her clipboard, face pale in the dusk hearing David coming over the wooden planks.

"All is in order for tonight; I trust?" she asked.

"Just about. How's your end coming along?"

She scanned her scout book list with a smug satisfaction.

"Finished early as usual. The ceremonial robes have been washed and dry-cleaned. And the guest list is pretty up to scratch."

"Let me see those seating plans of yours. I'm better at organizing it than you are," David said.

"Say's who?"

"Say's me. Just show me why don't you!"

"Whatever, David."

Tammy reached into her folder. He leaned over to take a look.

"Tammy, you can't have the Microsoft guys next to the Apple executives. Their tech rivals, they'll be at each other's throats all night."

Tammy sighed. "Ugh, fine. Big deal. I'll just move some place cards around then."

David tutted at another section. "And the Black Rock guys can't be all the way in the back either."

Her eyebrows snapped together.

"Where am I supposed to put them, then, David? The Rockefellers are at the front, next to Wang and Pushkin."

"Swap the JPMorgan table for Black Rock. Oh, and scoot the Chinese bank president closer to Wang, he requested it."

She made a note on her page. "Anything else, Your Highness?"

"Nah, you've got it covered. Nice work."

David watched the crew finish up on the other side of the riverbank.

"Can we get to my favorite part?" Tammy said.

"The raffle, you mean?"

Her feminine ways held an undercurrent of malice.

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"The brandishing, David."

"Why, of course, Tammy. We have to get our fun in somewhere!"

"Then come, David; there is no time like the now."

Together, they glided toward the redwoods, ready to weave their insidious designs for the unwitting children of Bohemian Grove.

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In the heart of the grove, nestled against a sandstone outcrop, a bonfire roared. Its flames danced with orange and ruby tongues, licking at the night sky. The fire was fed by seasoned oak and pine that Tammy and David had gathered. Around the fire, a half-dozen dilapidated wooden huts huddled, with smoke wafting into their derelict windows. Within, scared children peeked out.

David and Tammy inhaled the familiar scent of burning wood—crisp yet sweet with sap. It was a smell that brought back memories of their childhoods spent in this very grove, raised within its institutional walls after being taken from their mothers at a young age.

Unlike the others from summers past, they had been spared a crueler fate. Now they served as ambassadors and groomers for the rich and powerful patrons of Bohemium Grove. The experience had hardened them. To what can only be described as a form of Stockholm syndrome.

Hefting the canvas bag slung over his shoulder, David came closer to the fire, his boots crunching on the frost-kissed grass. Tammy followed, her steps light and swift despite the burden slung across her back. Their movements formed as a silent conversation, a practiced routine. They dropped their packs with a collective sigh. David unfurled a canvas tarp, revealing an arsenal of polished steel: twenty iron pokers, each as thick as a man's thumb and as long as his forearm. Their tips sharpened to needle points, glowed in the flickering firelight like hungry vipers poised to strike.

David crouched, feeding the flames another log, the wood hissing as it surrendered to the heat.

"Right temperature, I reckon," he said.

"We are ready to begin."

"I am always ready, Counselor. Let's paint these little birds with a new coat of feathers."

The nameless, faceless men from the Hummers walked the trail from the huts, holding the hands of crying children, traumatized by the sight that greeted them. David watched them come over non-plussed, carefully placing the pokers in the heart of the flames. Tammy, ever the swift girl scout, retrieved stencils from a camping table carved from weathered iron. She was giddy with excitement.

"Hello, boys and girls. Are you all happy campers? Your numbers are up."

Each poker, once cherry-red and glowing, was snatched from the fire in David's gloved hands. Then dipped in a bucket of simmering oil and pressed against a stencil that Tammy had placed for him.

Tammy purred, her voice dripping with venom.

"Emily and Lila come forward. Kimfuka has picked you out as number one and number two. You should feel honored."

"Emily, I'm scared."

"Lila, they are going to burn us!"

"Let's play a game," Tammy said playfully.

"If you keep still and shut your eyes, the pain will be over in five seconds. Look."

Tammy pulled up her sleeve to reveal an indelible mark with the branded number sixteen on her forearm. A scar that never looked like it had fully healed.

"David has number fifteen on his arm. If we could do it, you can do it too. Be brave, little girls, and keep still for me."

"I want my mommy!" Emily screamed.

Lila and Emily screamed and struggled in the men's grip, trying to pull away. All the children watched with wide, terrified eyes that flickered in the firelight. The twin's escape attempt was futile. They collapsed to the ground, clinging to each other, whispering desperate reassurances.

"You tried to run. Now you have made me add more seconds to the clock. That just won't do," Tammy said.

"Hurry up, Tammy; I'm losing my temperature here," said David, who was feeding the next lot of pokers for the conveyor belt of children.

"Keep still now."

Tammy's wild eyes and loose pigtails stood over them, preparing the searing brands that would claim them as the newest numbers in this twisted game. Tammy lowered the two glowing, red-hot pokers toward their exposed arms.

The twins closed their eyes to Tammy's hot downward threat. Burning flesh hissed. The girl's screams could be heard all the way to the prison hut housing the mothers. Julia shot up from her bunk recognizing the sound of her daughter's pain. Once Tammy had finished with Emily and Lila, she moved through the range, stealing the innocence off the adolescence in numbered order.

With each sickening sizzle of young body meeting hot metal, numbers blossomed with chilling ease. 1, 2, 3... the tally climbed, etching itself on the skin and their very souls.

By the time the last flames had sputtered and the embers had died, the nameless, faceless men had returned the quivering-handed little ones to their hell hole. Now their cries were spent, and they lay whimpering, branded lambs sacrificed on the altar of Bohemian Grove's darkest desires. David and Tammy, their faces flushed with an unholy fervor, stood at the door, surveying the suffering.

They walked between the bunks, pleased with their handiwork before them. The children had become withdrawn, scared of adults, filled with nightmares from the whispers of Tammy telling them each night at storytime about rituals performed by the adults at Bohemium Grove.

"What a good start, Counselor David."

David nodded, a feral grin rupturing across his face.

"Indeed, Little Bird. Indeed. This is only day one."

The grove held its breath, waiting for the night's chapter to commence in this macabre dance of power and pain.