Don't Dare Call Them Zombies : Books 1-4 (15 page)

“Uum labba saki haja,” I heard someone say.

“Yakki saja yomo. Fal mi elo labba,” another voice cried out.

“What the heck,” I thought at first as I continued to liste
n to the gibberish.

Then it dawned on me. The seemingly random, made up words were not gibberish, or at least not to these people. They were speaking in tongues – something I had heard before when visiting a Pentecostal church a friend of mine attended. Ap
parently, the ability to speak in tongues was a gift of the Holy Ghost. It was supposed to the language of heaven and the angels.

A moment later, I heard a voice quietly speak up in a language I could understand.

“Can you interpret for us, Ms. Teresa,” I heard a voice say.

“Yes, Reverend Sikes, I can,” a voice responded.

I then heard the woman's voice slightly change as she provided an interpretation. As she started to speak, I remembered that according to some evangelical denominations, an interpreter was always supposed to be present to translate.

“The Lord God Jehovah, the Holy of Holies,
won’t forsake his children. Though the trials and tribulations his power will be with you. The gifts of the spirit of God will protect you as the long days continue,” she stated.

Then I heard another person speak in tongues.

“Ubba we doss low saki wii lo,” the male voice spoke.

In an instant, the woman seemed to once again
translated the crazy sounding words.

“Accept the power I offer and share it with others as my spi
rit commands,” she stated. “Above all, love each other as I have loved you.”

By that time I had cracked the door open, very slightly, and was watching the individuals inside. Reverend Sikes stood up from kneeling on the ground and looked at me. The short m
an looked weak and frail; his appearance made him look almost ill – like a cancer patient. I remembered what we had been told, that he’d been praying and fasting in his office for some time.

“Come in,” he stated. “What is your name?” he asked.

“Hank Harper,” I answered. I started to explain how Deacon Cooper had invited Jennifer and me to come inside to share a meal when Ms. Teresa approached.

She looked at me intently and suddenly reached up and touched my forehead. Before I could step back, I felt an el
ectric sensation flow through my body. My legs went limp and I collapsed to the ground. Still barely conscience, I could see her kneeing and praying over me.

“Let this man be your vessel,” she
prayed. “Bless him and protect him with your power. Let him be your servant. A warrior to protect your people.”

She took her Bible and held it to my chest, and another surge of what felt like electrical current pulsed through my body.

I then blacked out.

Chapter Three

The sound of a church hymn and the key strokes of a piano filled my ears as I awakened from my unconscious state. Still in a daze, I listened to the music for what seemed like minutes before I slowly opened my eyes. My vision was blurry, b
ut I could start to make out my surroundings. I was lying on a pew with a blanket over me. I turned my head and I could see people standing around me, singing. I then noticed a hand was on my shoulder. I lifted my head trying to look behind me, and Jennifer's face peered at me from above.

“Thank God,” she whispered as she lowered her head and placed her face beside mine.

“I'm right here,” she said in a quiet voice. “Don't try to talk, just rest.”

She placed her hand back on my
shoulder and re-assumed her position, sitting beside me. I noticed the music had stopped, and everyone was sitting down.

I started to hear a voice preach about how Jesus had been with us during the attack and how he allowed us to triumph.

“The power of God is with us in these troubled times. For if God is with us, who can be against us! No, not the devil. No, not even the monsters outside. For our God is mighty and his strength is with us. His love for us and our love for each other will keep us strong,” he preached.

“Amen!” I heard someone call out.

“Praise God!” I heard someone else say.

As the man continued to preach my head started to feel clearer. I started try to sit up. Before I could even prop up my body, I felt Jennifer's hand squeeze my shoulder as
she lowered her face towards me once again.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “Do you need anything?”

“I'm okay. I just need to sit up,” I said.

With Jennifer's help I managed to sit up in the pew. We were in the rear of the sanctuary; our location provided m
e with a good view our surroundings. A large number of people filled the pews. There were many families huddled closely together. I saw a number of women holding tightly onto their children, and husbands sitting close to their wives. To the far left of the room I saw a pew filled with older teenagers and young adults. A few of them were discretely passing around a bottle of what I assumed was liquor of some kind. Over to the far right I saw Oscar sitting with a few of the patrollers and riflemen that had participated in the fighting outside. I noticed Meredith was clutching onto her arm, and was sitting alone.

Behind us in the foyer of the church, the front doors to the sanctuary were boarded up and a large table was placed in front of them. A man armed with
a shotgun was stationed near the barricade. Periodically, he’d push aside one of the heavy blankets that covered all the sanctuary windows and look outside. They were smart to try and block out the light; it could attract more freaks.

Looking ahead at
the pulpit, I watched as Reverend McMann continued with his sermon. Sitting in chairs slightly behind and to the sides of him were a number of men in suits. One such man was Deacon Cooper, and there were also three others who I assumed were all Deacons. Behind them all were a row of chairs in which about a dozen women and a couple of men were seated. They were dressed in robes, and held hymnals in their hands.

The preacher continued to talk about how the church body must stay unified to remain strong. My m
ind was now clear, and most of the fog had lifted. I tried to pay close attention to everything that was being said. I then noticed Reverend McMann was looking at me. With his eyes directed at me, he continued to speak to his congregation.

“We must also em
brace the guests that God has guided to our church home,” he stated. “Although it is important that we love each other, God also commands us to share Christian love and good will towards everyone – even strangers.”

“Just a few hours ago, two such guests jo
ined us. And I'm glad to see that one of our guests, Mr. Harper, is feeling better after risking his life to assist in defending this church,” he exclaimed.

I felt nervous as the eyes of dozens of church members were upon Jennifer and me. For some reason,
I felt I should say something. A couple awkward moments passed, and I decided to stand up. Although Jennifer assisted, I was now recovered enough from the electrocution attempt to stand up without anyone's help. With mixed feelings of both confusion and anger about what had transpired, I decided to humble myself to the church body. What had happened was painful, but for some reason I felt something telling me to accept what happened and move on.

“Hello everyone, I just want to say that I appreciate your chu
rch leadership allowing us to enter your church home,” I stated. “Please accept my sincere thanks for your hospitality.”

I sat back down, and Jennifer grasped onto my arm.

“The both of you are very welcome,” Reverend McMann responded. “We want you to feel at home here. If there is anything we can do for you please let us know.”

In the following minutes the pastor made a few closing remarks. He then had the choir lead the congregation in a closing hymn. A short prayer followed, and the service was over.

As people started to stand up and talk to one another I noticed Roy walking up to me. His wife was still sitting with their children a few aisles down. I stood back up as I saw a bag in his arms.

“Hi, Hank. I'm glad that
you’re back on your feet again. Are you feeling alright?” he asked.

“Actually, yes. I'm much better now. I never thought being prayed for could be such a shocking experience,” I answered.

Roy laughed. “I heard about Ms. Teresa praying and laying hands on you,” he said. “You know, she’s a powerful prayer warrior. The spirit of God is really in her.”

“So that is what happened to you?” Jennifer asked.

I looked at her and said, “Yeah, I had just come back inside after helping the patrols fight off the attack outside. I was trying to find the sanctuary when I came across the church office. They asked me to come inside, and before I knew the lady had me on the ground and was praying over me. I fell unconscious and woke up in this pew,” I explained.

 “Wow!” Roy said loudly in an excited voice. “God must have plans for you.”

“Who is Ms. Teresa?” I asked while Jennifer listened carefully to our conversation.

“She’s Reverend Sike's younger sister. Years ago, she was married to the reverend of a church in Hazelhurst. When her husband died of a heart attack she moved to be closer to her brother and joined our church. The spirit of God is really with her. God has given her many gifts including the ability to interpret tongues, heal the sick when God is willing, and to prophesy.” he said.

“Why doesn't h
e just call her sister?” I asked. “Why does he call her Ms. Teresa?”

“
He’s very formal,” Roy answered. “By the way, they told me to give this to you. It is the stuff that the patrols found next to your van.”

“Thank you,” Jennifer said.

“You’re welcome,” Roy responded.

“Where is the dog,” I asked Jennifer.

“Oh, they asked if the children could play with him in the nursery. They said it might distract them from the gunfire outside and what was happening,” she answered.

“That's good,” I said. “Let’s go check
on him soon.”

I then felt someone tap on my shoulder. He introduced himself as Robert Gardner. He was dressed in black overalls and a white shirt. The shirt still had splatters of blood on it from the fighting outside.

“I hear your van has a flat tire. I think I might be able to help,” he said.

“Yes, it does. Any help you can provide would be appreciated,” I responded.

I explained the situation to him, and he suggested that in the morning we ride to his shop that was only a short distance down the road. His garage was located next to his house, and he thought it would be safe enough for us to travel there in the morning and grab what we needed.

“Thanks for the help you gave us outside. It's really appreciated. That was the worst attack we have had here sinc
e the whole awful thing started,” he informed us. “Usually, they might come in groups of one or two, and earlier today we had to take out a group of five. But I've never seen so many of them as we did in this last attack.”

“How many of their bodies did you
count after the attack was over?” I asked.

“A hundred and five,” he stated.

“Darn” I said. “That's a lot.”

“It's scary,” he stated. “We have good defenses and it's not difficult to take out a few of them, but we
didn’t expect flocks of them to show up like that.”

Jennifer handed me the pistol and revolver, and I remembered that the man smoking the cigarette, that had convinced Meredith to open the gate, had told me to return it as soon as possible.

I asked Robert where I could find the man who loaned me the pistol, and he told me to follow him.

“Can you check on the dog,” I asked Jennifer. “I'll be right back in just a few minutes.”

“We need to talk,” she stated. “As soon as you get back come right back here.”

She walked with Roy tow
ards his wife and children as I followed Robert. We left the sanctuary and walked back towards the social hall. In the hallway, families were beginning to fill the various rooms. I also saw several people walking up a stairwell to an upper level of the church.

“Is anyone staying in the other building outside, near where my van is parked?” I asked Robert.

“A few,” he stated. “But mostly only a few patrols actually stay over there to sleep.”

“Did we lose anyone in the attack?” I asked him.

“No, but Meredith was scratched. One of the freaks clawed her arm,” he said.

He pace slowed a bit as we continued walking.

“We cut out some of the tissue near the wound and then cleaned it out the best we could,” he said. “We have sanitized it the best we can. Now we can only pray for her.”

“I'm sorry to hear about her being attacked. I noticed she was holding onto her arm in the sanctuary,” I said.

“Do you have any experience treating bites or scratches?” he asked. “I know you come from Sandy Hills where all hell was breaking loose.”