Amish Vampires in Space (38 page)

Then the first young lady smiled brightly, snuggled close to the older woman’s shoulder and neck.

And bit down.

• • •

Foley’s leap was so swift and unexpected that it was all Greels could do to step out of the way. His foot landed on a container and slid. He stumbled into the corner of the room to his right, barely stopping before colliding with the front of the long shelf there.

He turned in time to see Foley recover, turn, and charge again. Greels put up his left arm and met Foley’s full weight with it. Foley’s mouth widened, exposing gleaming teeth. Greels stabbed with his elbow and pushed with his body to get the young man off.

Foley impacted the long shelf to Greels’s left, grunted, and started to stand again.

Greels sidestepped away from the shelf to his right, deeper into the room, and closer to the girl on the floor. She was making no noise now. Just lying completely still. Dead? Unconscious? He didn’t know. He stooped to check.

Foley snarled and made another run at him. Greels swung his right fist and managed to connect with the young man’s chin. This knocked Foley back a few feet.

He paused, took a couple of ragged breaths and smiled. “I don’t need your permission anymore, Greels…and I am hungry.”

Greels scowled. “Well, you’re not eating me.” Foley was blocking his clearest route out though.

“Very confident of you, sir.” Foley leapt again.

Greels grabbed a small container from the short shelf that faced him and threw it. It made a heavy
thunk
when it impacted Foley’s face. Foley snarled and extended his hands, claw-like, and Greels let another container fly. Another hit. Foley shook that off and came for him again.

This time, the contents of the container Greels had stepped on earlier helped him. Foley’s right foot found the puddle it had produced, and his leg slid out from under him. He again crashed into the long side aisle.

But immediately, Foley was regrouping. Snarling.

Greels scrambled toward the exit, which was just a short distance away. He could feel a slight breeze from the hallway. He thought of the young woman, felt a twinge of regret, but couldn’t think of anything else to do. He couldn’t help her, not with that maniac jumping at him. Greels ran, stumbling and kicking, grabbing more containers off the shelves and hurling them to the floor behind him.

Foley cackled. “Now or later, boss, it won’t matter.”

A sickly sweet aroma enveloped Greels. His head began to swim and he became very aware of every breath. He coughed, waved his hand before his face. He grabbed the side of the shelf on his right, pulled his way forward. What was happening to him? He felt his left foot falter, fought to move the right one forward. Locked his eyes on the doorway.

More movement behind him. More laughter. Greels shook his head again. Plodded forward. Pulled with his right hand.

First Congi gets sick and strange, and now Foley’s a killer?

Greels looked up and felt a blast of fresh air from the hallway. Have to move. Make it one more step. He summoned every bit of energy he had left. Lunged through the doorway. Somehow managed to hit the control switch.

The door slid shut. He stumbled up the hall.

The slideway, he had to make the slideway.

No one was doing anything.

The right side of the church, the traditionalist side, just sat complacently while those from David’s group attacked them. Sure, there was little violence in the attacks, but there was no doubt what was going on. An attack. An inhumane and selfish attack.

Jebediah found himself yelling. First in shock and anger, then in desperation. “We have to get out of here!” he cried. “We have to move now!” He grabbed Samuel by the elbow. Guided him down the aisle toward the front. He looked back at Mark. Called for him.

Mark remained completely dumbfounded. Mindlessly watching the carnage. Meanwhile, dozens of David’s people—former trustworthy members—were now restraining and clearly
biting
the other members of the group.

There was little resistance. And, of course, there wouldn’t be.

“We should not resist this,” Samuel mumbled. “The Ordnung forbids violence in any form.”

Jeb almost laughed. Did nonaggression include sitting calmly by as monsters devoured your children? Your parents? Yourselves? He grabbed Samuel’s elbow and gave him a little shake, trying to get him moving in
any
direction. “But it doesn’t forbid running, now does it?”

Samuel continued to stare. “What are they doing to them? I’m seeing blood…”

Jebediah turned toward the congregation. He looked into the eyes of as many people—as many
real
people—as he could. “We all need to get out of here!” he said. “Right now!”

A few of the men on the far right side appeared to be waking up. They rose from their seats. And those with family began to move them out into the far right aisle. They still looked lost, though. Uncertain of where to go.

And there was a good reason for that. The middle aisle, the one leading to the back exit, was partially blocked by David’s smiling, thirsty horde. And they didn’t seem anxious to move.

“Don’t resist an evil man!” Samuel said.

David’s people knew they weren’t going to actively resist. Knew they were like cattle to slaughter.

Jebediah felt sweat drip down his face. He had to get as many out as he could. And he needed to get back to Sarah. To his future child. He looked every direction. There was a group of traditionalists forming to his right, behind Samuel and Mark. But down the center aisle came the others. David’s. They were moving slowly but nimbly. Some were even hopping up on chairs and stepping back down again as they moved forward. Bouncing and happy. Their dance was an odd swirling mix of bright colors and altered Amisher garb.

Flesh-eating colors.

“The fever,” Mark said. “I told you, Samuel. Something about the fever.”

Jebediah searched the exterior of the room. Like every other dwelling in the settlement, there was no ceiling overhead here beside that of the bay itself, many yards above. The makeshift walls were blue and completely solid. Could they scale them? They were probably eight feet high. With men lending a hand, he thought they could at least get the children and women out.

James moved up to join them. “This is for the best, my bruders. If you don’t struggle, it will be easier. You will be protected. Sheltered.” His hands touched together at the fingertips. As if he were discussing a favorite pet or comforting a grieving widow.

“Get out of the way, James!” Mark said.

The outburst surprised Jebediah but didn’t keep him from acting. He zeroed in on the long wall to their left and moved that direction. An extra bench was placed there. They could use that.

“I used to preach about a changed life,” James said. “But I never actually felt it. But this…this is real living.”

“Deceiver!” Jebediah took off his hat and tossed it at the startled deacon. He waved the traditionalist group toward the wall. “Mark, if we use that bench,” he pointed, “we can climb.”

Mark nodded, though he still looked conflicted. Samuel seemed to be moving in the right direction, but he was stumbling along, distracted by something near the back of the room.

Jebediah turned to see where he was looking. He spotted Samuel’s wife, Ruth, attached to a younger man. Her lips to his neck. “Don’t give in to the demons!” Samuel called finally. “We must stand in faith!”

“She’s lost now, Samuel,” Jeb said. “We need to move.”

“Nonsense,” Samuel said without turning. “This battle is not with flesh and blood. It is the Lord’s!” He took a step in Ruth’s direction. “‘But Michael the archangel, when he disputed with the devil, did not pronounce judgment against him, but said, “The Lord rebuke you!”’”

The pronouncement seemed to have little effect. Ruth didn’t even twitch.

Samuel took another step, raised a hand. “I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her!”

This time, she did look up, but only to smile. There was blood on her lips.

Finally, Mark seemed to fully engage. “Run!” he shouted.

And the group really did begin to move. The whole group, of which there were maybe three dozen, hurried toward the side of the room. Toward the sideways bench. Parents began to help children onto the bench. Then pitch them over to the other side, escaping the large room. Another group went toward the wall along the bench. Started helping each other climb it. Lifting each other up and over.

A few of David’s folk noticed their escape and started moving through the left-side aisles toward them. Quickening their pace so as to not let their feast get away.

Jebediah looked at Mark, who was standing to his left, guiding people. “We need to stop them,” he said, pointing. “Slow them down.”

Mark looked crestfallen. “How can we do that?”

Jebediah was struggling with it too. Just when he’d thought he was coming to some absolution, he’d been thrust into a situation in which breaking the Ordnung seemed the only way out. Hadn’t Jesus said, “Don’t resist an evil man”? There was no doubt that what Jeb was witnessing here was true evil. “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I—” He saw the rows of benches again with their high backs. “Can we move them?” he asked aloud. “Make a barricade?” But wasn’t a barricade a form of resistance too?

Mark called to a couple of the larger men. Immediately they all turned, and with a few words and hand gestures, they came to understand. Together they started moving the nearer benches into a small semicircle to partially shield those trying to escape.

James was the first against the barricade. “Look at how easily you abandon your principles,” he said. “Working with a shunned man. Resisting our advance. Hypocrites!”

Neither Jebediah nor Mark responded. They just worked to help the remaining Amishers out. David’s group was snarling and cursing at the barricade. Starting to climb it. Jeb feared others would disengage, exit, and hunt from the outside. He checked the way out behind them. Only a few remained, along with the men who had helped. He touched Mark’s arm. Mark nodded, and together they hurried to the wall.

“There is no escape here,” James said. “Only delay.”

Jebediah was the last one over. He risked a last glance behind him. A few of David’s people were over the barricade. James stood still, smiling. Beyond that, Jeb could see the forms of community members gripping others. Glazed looks on the prey. Smiles and frenzied feasting. He thought of Sarah. Of his baby. Pushed himself over the wall.

Those who had preceded him over the wall had known enough to run for the exits, so there were very few waiting when he went over. With Samuel in tow, Jeb followed Mark through the maze of dwellings. They reached the exit to Bay 17 and were surprised to find no one blocking it. Even Jonathan’s rocking chair was empty.

“No one wanted to miss the feast, I guess.” Jeb said.

When they got through the bay door, Jeb made sure it was closed, and then—lacking any real knowledge of how to secure it—he kicked the control pad until it cracked. He hoped that would help.

There was a large group of Amishers waiting. All looking completely lost. There were children cowering against their parents, wailing. Many of the women were crying too. Or tucked tightly against their husbands.

“Uncle John bit Grandma!” someone shrieked.

“Marion,” another said. “I left her. Lost her…”

Samuel strode into the middle of the group but didn’t say anything. He just circled, eyes closed, and lips moving. Praying?

“What now?” Deacon Mark asked. “Where do we go?”

Jebediah pointed in the direction of the nearest slideway. “That way. I’ll show you.”

“Deeper into the belly of the beast?” Samuel asked, suddenly active. “More intermingling?”

Pounding started on the other side of the door. David’s group had arrived.

“Do we have a choice, Deacon? You would prefer to go back to your home?”

Samuel pointed at Jebediah. “He is still not one of us. We cannot follow him. His heart isn’t right.”

Jebediah scratched the top of his head. Remembered his hat was gone. Frowned. “I’m going that way,” he said, pointing. “Follow me or don’t. That’s your decision. But I’m not staying here.”

• • •

Seal stared at the videoconferencing image on his desk. That it was Greels, there could be no doubt. But the man looked worse than he’d ever seen him. His face was smeared with multiple colors—red, black, and green. A dusting of white powder was present there, as well. Mostly on his forehead and in his normally brown hair. Made him look a decade older.

“What happened to you?”

“That— M-my intern!” Greels stammered. “Foley!”

Seal squinted. “You mean the short fellow. Dark hair? Looks like a bright light would scare him?”

“Yes!”

Greels was obviously back at his quarters. Seal could see the pictures of bikini-clad women on the wall behind him. Greels’s eyes were shifting nervously, though. As if he were checking the door. Waiting for someone.

“What did the little guy do?”