Ever Onward (11 page)

Jocco’s smile never reached his eyes.
“Perhaps. Every army needs good reconnaissance. Now, where did you
say these people are?”

Rat’s head came up in defiance. “First
tell these ass-kissers to give me back my gun!”

Pussbag was already reaching for Rat’s
hair, his long knife ready when Jocco stopped him with a look. He
moved closer to Rat, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. His
voice was like a patient parent talking to a belligerent
child.

“We are not a mob or some mindless
group of looters; we are an army. Small, but growing quickly. I am
the leader. My people treat me with a certain respect. You - will -
too.”

Rat shrugged, feeling more sure of
himself now, even a little cocky. “Ya, sure, General, I
understand.”

“No,” Jocco said, still smiling. “I
don’t think you do. But you will.” He turned to Rege. “He had a
gun?”

Rege pulled the .38 Special out of his
belt and handed it to Jocco. Flipping open the chamber, Jocco
removed five of the six shells, closed and spun the chamber. “Twice
I asked you where these people are. Twice you failed to respond.”
He cocked the .38 and pressed it against Rat’s forehead. The
tension in the room suddenly seemed to crackle. Shirley Bates
moaned from her place on the couch. Jocco’s voice, still that of a
patient parent, continued.

“Twice.”

The hammer of the revolver dry-fired.
Rat’s small eyes threatened to pop out of his head. Over in the
corner Walter Pinkton gasped. The .38 was cocked again, the double
click sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Rat sagged and would have
fallen if Rege and Pussbag hadn’t caught him. Jocco squeezed the
trigger a second time and Rat’s bladder let go. The hammer fell on
an empty chamber and Rat fell to his knees.

Still smiling, Jocco pointed the gun
at the ceiling and pulled the trigger a third time. The sound of
the explosion shattered the silence. Tossing the smoking gun at
Rat’s knees he spoke again. “Where?”

“In the church!”, Rat gasped. “The big
fucking church in the center of town!”

Jocco turned to Pinkton. “Take this
lad into the kitchen. Get him cleaned up and then get us something
to eat. As of now you’re the cook and he’s your assistant.
Move.”

Pinkton jumped forward, half dragging
Rat towards the kitchen. Sam Waterson started to go with them, but
Jocco called him back.

“Not you, Pilot. I still don’t trust
you out of my sight.”

“Why?”, Waterson sneered. “Afraid I
might fly away?”

Jocco’s handsome face broke into a
grin. “Not at all. You know I’d kill Pinkton and the girl if you
did.”

“Why then?”

Jocco nodded at Pam the Bitch. The
butt of her M-16 was again pressed tightly between her thighs. Tim
Galt was aiding her with his hand and George the Man was opening
her shirt. “Because, Sammy, the games are about to
begin.”

Bobby-Joe Bemis let out a Rebel
yell.

The next morning Rat, winding his
Honda around the few cars blocking Barstow’s main street, came to
stop in front of a large stone church. The APC, rumbling along
behind, merely brushed the cars aside. Jocco, standing in the open
the hatch of the turret, looked like a young Patton in North
Africa.

“There it is, Sir!”, Rat beamed. “Just
like I said!” All trace of arrogance had vanished from his voice,
if not from his heart.

Jocco pressed a button inside the
hatch and the turret swiveled to face the large church doors. He
then spoke into a hand mike, booming out instructions for anyone
inside to come out with their hands up.

Silence. The hot California sun baked
down. As arranged, Pussbag and Tim Galt moved up on either side of
the APC. Both carried assault rifles. Jocco fiddled with a switch
and the turret gun lowered. On the small console in front of him
the double doors were now lined up in the computer’s cross-hairs.
He thumbed a red switch and the heavy gun spoke. The APC rocked
slightly and the thick doors exploded inward. Smoke poured out of
the gaping hole. Flames licked at the charred wood.

Tim Galt wiped sweat out of his eyes
and ran forward, Pussbag flanking him on the right. From the cab of
the Troop Transport, George the Man could be heard swearing merrily
away. The rest waited anxiously.

Then someone was staggering through
the smoke. A man dressed in a long robe. He held a large crucifix
up in front of him as though to ward off evil.

“How dare you attack the House of the
Lord?”, the priest demanded, stopping in front of the APC. “The Day
Of Judgment is at hand! Repent, ye sinners! Repent!”

Jocco smiled down at the red faced
priest. “All in good time, Father, all in good time. But first,
send out the people hiding inside your church.”

The priest’s face took on a look of
righteous indignation. “They have been given sanctuary! God has
laid His hand on them! He has chosen us all to await His
coming!”

Jocco’s smile slipped slightly. “Your
waiting is over, Father. This side of the grave I’m the closest
thing to God you’re likely to find. Now, do you send them out or do
I send my men in?”

The priest kissed the crucifix and
held it up like a shield “The devil will claim thee for this
sacrilege!”

A flicker of a smile flashed in his
cold eyes. “Too late, Father. He already has.” Jocco nodded towards
the church. Tim and Pussbag ran inside. Billy-Joe and Pam the Bitch
came up to stand beside the priest. A moment later there came the
muffled sound of gunfire. A woman screamed and kept on screaming.
The priest hugged his crucifix, muttering in Latin. Suddenly the
screaming stopped.

Moments dragged by. Then a man and two
women came through the smoking doorway. The man was clutching his
arm. Blood flowed freely. One of the women was carrying a baby. The
other woman was slim, pretty, with long blonde hair. Tim and
Pussbag followed.

The priest looked up at Jocco. “What
will you do with them?”

Jocco’sgaze lingered on the distant
mountains. “Your God took away their lives, Father. I intend to
give them back.”

The priest’s brow creased. “At what
price? Their freedom? Their dignity?”

Jocco turned his handsome face on the
priest and smiled. A fire seemed to dance within his cold eyes.
“Their souls.”

The priest’s own eyes widened. Terror
coursed through his frail body. Having neither eaten or slept since
God cleansed the earth, he now existed in a permanent state of
exhausted grace. Reality competed with Divine Revelation and was
rapidly loosing ground.

“Antichrist!”, he hissed, raising the
heavy crucifix to strike at Jocco’s gloating face. The blow,
however, never fell, for Pam the Bitch yanked his head back and
Pussbag cut his throat.

Chapter 11
: SHOP TILL YOU
DROP

Mount Hawthorn

Lake Champlain, NY

June 25 (Day
4)

By now their number had grown to nine,
the latest being Eddy Hascomb, a shy, friendly carpenter from a
little village called Moriah about ten miles west of Hawthorn. Eddy
had been waiting for them the day after they found Gloria, Willard
and Bobby. Apparently Eddy had been Moriah’s only known survivor.
With both the TV and radio no longer broadcasting, he’d simply
picked out a brand new Chevy camper, stocked it with supplies and
headed on down the road. Until he had seen the sign outside the
Food Mart, he’d thought he was the only person left in the world.
Needless to say, he was more than happy to join their little
band.

Hearing Eddy’s story made Josh think
of his cousin. The thought that Brad and his son may still be alive
ate away at him. He had phoned twice more, always getting the same
recorded message. On the seventh day after the Change, Josh decided
he could wait no longer. He was going to see for
himself.

“Well,” Doc said, after Josh had told
him of his plan. “If you must go, at least take one or two of the
men along with you. New Hampshire is still two states away and God
knows what trouble you may run into on your own.”

“He won’t be on his own, Doc,” Jessie
put in. “The dog’s and I are going with him.”

Doc scratched his bald head, searching
for the right words. They were sitting on the back porch. From
inside the house Mrs. Wang could be heard humming some Oriental
ditty. It had a dreamy, almost sad sound to it.

“That’s fine, Jess. You and the dogs
will be good company for your Dad, but I’ve seen you drive, and
even though I’m not expecting any letters, I was rather fond of
that mailbox.”

Jessie blushed, hearing again the
crunching sound when he had flattened Doc’s mailbox the day before.
To cover his embarrassment, he tried a little humor of his own. “I
can drive forward okay, Doc; it’s just the backing up I need to
work on. But I know what you mean. Dad would be too nervous to rest
much with me behind the wheel. But what about Bobby? And he’s a
mechanic. Or that new guy, Eddy.” Jess turned to his father.” When
you and Eddy were talking last night I heard him say he liked deer
hunting. At least he can handle a gun.”

Josh, who had been sitting quietly,
suddenly felt a stab of fear. How casually the boy had mentioned
the need for someone who could use a weapon. As though this was the
Wild West! Then he sighed, remembering the bullet that nicked his
ear and Gloria’s friend Dude. As a teacher, he of all people should
know that the young adapt much quicker than the old. After just a
week Josh had already formed new ties, new bonds, new people and
things to care about. Oh, the old ones would live on within him,
but the human heart has an infinite capacity for love, and youth
lived always in the present, while older people tended to dwell on
the past. Especially History teachers.

“Let’s go ask Bobby,” Josh said. “He’s
down at the Texaco changing the oil in the Westfalia. I guess he’s
already getting a little bored.”

“And the new guy, Eddy?”

“OK partner,” Josh laughed. “I’ll ask
him too. Right now I think he’s up at Willard’s farm helping out
with the animals. We’ll see him at supper time.”

“Count me in,” Eddy said, passing a
steaming plate of roast beef on down the table. “New Hampshire’s a
real pretty place. I went hunting there a few times with my
brothers. Lot of moose over that way.”

“Black bears too!”, Bobby Stewart
added. “Last summer me and some of the guys went camping there. You
know, looking for chicks and stuff. Well, we were swimming in this
river right inside the campground, and what do I see looking at me
from the far bank? A big old momma bear and her cub!”

Jessie grinned, eager to join in.
“Once we were in a campsite near Lake Placid. I was on my way to
the ...” He saw Mai-Ling watching his lips and blushed. “To wash my
hands, when I saw a big black bear sitting in the middle of the
path! My Mom got all excited, but we just slowly backed away. Dad
says its the best thing to do.”

“Your father’s right, Jess,” Eddy
agreed. “Bears usually won’t bother you if you don’t bother
them.”

The talk continued for some time,
stories swapped and stories stretched. Bobby was only twenty and
Eddy, though somewhere in his mid forties, had that little
boyishness about him that kids take to. Soon the discussion swung
round to the trip to New Hampshire.

Josh smiled to himself. This little
expedition to North Conway might not be a bad idea after all.
Everyone was excited about the project and he was beginning to feel
a little like Lewis and Clark himself, with a good deal of Bilbo
Baggins thrown in. Sitting there in Doc’s crowded kitchen eating
cakes, pouring over maps and talking about a ‘grand adventure’, he
felt his own blood quicken. They might not meet any angry Wood
Elves or ferocious dragons, but, like Bilbo, Josh knew that danger
lay at every turn of the path.

Part of the old poem by
Tolkein came back to him.

The Road goes ever on and
on,

Down from the door where it
began.

Now far ahead the Road has
gone,

And I must follow if I
can.

Until it joins some larger
way,

And whither then? I cannot
say.

Just like it had to those fictional
Hobbits, a shudder ran down his spine. He had often read that
magical little tale to Jessie at bedtime. Of course, just about
everyone in the world had seen the movies. He’d even found a way to
include it in his English classes. It seemed strange now to be
somehow living it.

“Dad? Dad! Are you OK?” Jessie’s voice
was tight with worry.

Josh smiled and reached for his pipe.
(Another Bilbo illusion?) “I’m fine, Jess. Just thinking of what
we’ll need for the trip.”

Jessie’s eyes twinkled. “Well, Eddy
was saying that if we’re going to go as far as New Hampshire, why
not make a big circle and see who else we can find? We might even
go south into Main! You know, where you and Mom go every summer!
The Yorks, where that big salt-water candy store is! And that
gigantic camping place at Kittery!”

Josh laughed. “Christmas in July, eh?
I remember last summer how you wanted that hand
crossbow.”