Judgment (14 page)

              We spent the next few weeks settling into to the rural farmlands, which hadn’t offered us quite the respite from the chaos we had hoped for. Still, less congested, less populated, and less claustrophobic, it was still more appealing than the city. If I had to die, I preferred to do it out here.

Chapter 9

The Evil That Men Do

“Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts

of your father ye will do.” 

~ John 8:44

              The old farmhouse held little of value. Its treasures of canned goods and usable clothing had been ransacked and carried away by other scavengers long before us. Looting was now a way of life for us all, although it really wasn't looting anymore, just survival. More often than not, the former owners of the things we took weren't around to need them anymore. This home now held only memories and ghosts.

              The farm was a beautiful place, like a painting. A small two story house nestled under a huge oak that shaded it from the sun, its long hanging branches gently caressing the roof. It sat upon acres and acres of farmland, once covered with thriving crops; now overgrown with tall weeds and the ever present dust of human remains, a constant reminder of the world's latest extinction event.

              Mankind wasn't quite extinct yet, but it had to be getting close. As the weeks wore on, the world became increasingly quieter. The wispy souls that flitted across the night sky became less noticeable, and signs of human life became harder and harder to find.

              As Margie searched the second floor for anything we could use, I sat upon the couch in the living room, staring at a picture on the side table. The old photograph was of an elderly couple, posing on the porch of the house with a young woman. The farmer, his wife and probably a daughter, all caught in a Kodak moment tribute to the American dream. Now it was all gone. I wondered what kind of people had they been and how their judgment had gone. Shifting slightly on the couch, I noticed a thin cloud of dust rising into the air, its tiny particles shimmering in the beams of sunlight coming through the large front window. The disrespectful feeling that I may actually be sitting on that farmer made me stand and walk out onto the porch.

              I called out "Margie...", and waited for a response from upstairs." Margie!”, a little louder. I could hear her rummaging through dresser drawers.

              “Yeah?”

              “I'm going out front. Don't take too long. It's pretty wide open around here. I don't like it.”

              “Okay.”

              Wide open spaces were bad. Like hawks, a Judge could spot you a mile off. Staying near cover was a life extending necessity. Not lifesaving really, only life extending, because we all knew it was only a matter of time before you were caught, and your judgment came.

              The porch offered a magnificent view of sprawling farmland bordered on all sides by thick woods. A dirt road heading away from the house disappeared into the trees. A breeze carried the smell of rain in the distance, and with the rain came a respite from breathing in human remains. Wet dust couldn't float and instead turned into clay upon the ground. Large heavy clouds drifted by, and between them strong rays of sunshine wandered across the farm illuminating patches of ground as they went; the fingers of God, always searching for us.

              I felt something tickle my ankle, and looking down I saw the cockroaches crawling over my boots. I brushed them off, noticing many more scrambling across the porch. Apparently safe from the wrath of God and without human control, insects were becoming alarmingly prevalent. I guess the meek really were inheriting the earth. 

              The still and quiet morning air erupted with a new sound off in the distance; a mechanical, rhythmic popping sound. A nail gun, like something roofers would use to put shingles down on a roof.  It meant people for sure, but no one was doing roofing work these days.  A couple hundred yards away a large barn stood at the edge of the field. Aging and under siege from the vines and foliage growing upon it, the banging of nails reverberated from within. I stood motionless on the porch, listening intently. The popping sound of the nail gun echoed off the wall of trees at the edge of the farm, and along with it I could hear the faint sound of laughter, of men; taunting, celebrating. I had to be cautious; other survivors could be as dangerous as Judges, often even worse.

              “You hear that?” I heard Margie whisper as she came up behind me.

              I nodded, but made no sound, trying to continue listening.

              “Let’s just go. There’s nothing here anyway,” she urged.

              I turned to her, thought for a moment, and then looked back towards the barn. “Just wait here. If anything goes wrong you head the other way.”

              “What? Don’t be an idiot. C’mon Adam. Let’s just go.”

              “Just stay here. I’ll be back.”

              “Damn it Adam,” I heard her complain in a near whisper as I began moving towards the barn. Perhaps it was foolish. I had no idea who or what was in the barn, and I had a good distance of open ground to move across to get to it. I was risking being seen by a Judge, or finding hostile humans inside. In this new world of survival though, there was also the occasion of finding people like ourselves, who realized the value of helping each other to survive. Perhaps there was a family in there, just nailing boards over the windows, securing a shelter. Perhaps they had food. Perhaps we could work together to survive longer. I had to know.

              The weeds brushed across my legs just above my knees, making swooshing noises as I went. Through the hole in my pants I felt those damn little prickers sticking into my skin as grasshoppers by the dozens complained and leapt out of the way. I tried to move quickly, keeping an eye on the sky for Judges, while not making enough noise to be heard by anyone in the barn. I had been calm on the porch, but now my heart raced. The distance out in the open was terrifying, yet every step closer to the barn scared me as well. The nail gun sound had stopped, as did the laughter. There was different conversation now. It was definitely the sound of several men, cheering each other on about something.

              Reaching the outside of the barn, I wedged myself into a space of shadows between a large bush and the wooden wall. I turned towards the farmhouse momentarily and could see Margie crouched on the porch. Peering into a gap between the wooden slats of the barn wall, my heart sank from the vision before me.

              Looking through the wall to the other side of the barn, I understood what the nail gun was about. Three men were there; rough, redneck types. Somehow they had actually captured a female judge.  She was standing with her feet on the ground and her back to the wall. Her wings were fully expanded, spread out against the wall of the barn, pinned there with the nail gun. Dozens of rusty nails had been shot through the feathers and into the wooden wall. There were nails in her arms and hands as well, pinning them outstretched on the wall like a crucifix. There was no blood, even though the nails had clearly penetrated through flesh and bone and into the wood.

              Like all judges, all the human anatomy was there, and there was a great physical beauty about her. If not for the wings and the golden eyes, she was in every other way a human woman. With her femininity and nakedness fully exposed and unprotected, the men were violating her, in the way that only human men can do when allowed to run unchecked.

              A vibrant, powerful rush of emotions swept over me as I watched. I was horrified, appalled, and yet somehow not surprised. There was no limit to what men were capable of, to the evil that men do, and these three idiots were proving the very reason the Judges had come to get us; proving why mankind was being wiped off the planet.

              The Judge never struggled, never resisted. She showed no sign of pain or even distress. She simply watched them, seemingly without emotion, as they took turns raping her. Her golden eyes studied them intently, and every so often her lips would move and I heard her say a single word; “Lust”. She was judging them, even though she couldn’t get her hands on them to turn them to dust.

              I struggled for several minutes on what to do next, as my emotions pulled me in different directions. My natural reaction was to do something to stop this. But I was alone with only Margie, Steve having stayed behind to rest his injured ankle. I had maybe six bullets left in my .45. I could kill them, but the sound of the gun would bring Judges from all around directly to us. I was never much of a fighter either, and three against one I knew wouldn’t go well for me. And what of Margie? I couldn’t put her in danger. I knew exactly what they would do with her as well if they caught her.

             
Motherfuckers, I’m glad God is wiping you out.

              Margie yelled out whispers behind me. “What is it?”

              I quickly turned and put my finger across my lips, urging her to shut up. Turning back I could see the men hadn’t heard, still caught up in their evil deed.

              Suddenly I heard the flapping of great wings, and Margie screamed out, “Adam!” When I turned, she was already running through the doorway back into the house, away from the Judge that had landed on the roof of the porch. I probably should have just stayed where I was and let Margie find a place to hide, but my knee jerk reaction was to run to her. I began sprinting towards the house, the tall weeds swooshing against my jeans.

              The Judge was leaning down over the side of the porch roof, looking for Margie. I was halfway between the barn and the house when he noticed me. He turned to me, his golden eyes piercing into mine. The male Judges always seemed to have a different look about them than the females; the expression on their faces more grim, more determined, signaling their ominous intent. I continued running for the house, to Margie, and with forty yards to go I saw the Judge’s wings begin to spread. In another second he would come for me.

              The three losers had heard Margie scream, had seen me through the slats run from the barn, and had given chase. I heard them running behind me at the same time I saw the Judge take flight and come towards me. His great wings spread, his shadow racing across the ground directly for me. There was no time to think, and even less to react. One of the men behind me yelled as he noticed the Judge. I knelt down and instinctively raised my arms over my head to try and protect myself. The sun blinded me as I looked up at the Judge and I braced myself.

              Holy shit this is it.

              I felt a great rush of air; the huge wings above me. The air pushed by, following the shadow. I heard a man behind me scream; a coward’s scream, and shotgun blasts. Still on my knees, I turned to see one of the men in the Judges grasp, already glowing red. Another was trying to quickly reload the double barrel shotgun, nervously fumbling with the shells. The third man was already fifty yards away in a full run for his life, not quite the man he was before with an angel nailed to the wall. The Judge unfurled his wings and the dust fell. No soul floated to the sky.

              Good, prick
.

              Another shotgun blast, then another, as the Judge quickly moved to the second man. In a panicked moment of indecision, the man briefly attempted to reload again before he realized its futility and turned to run. He didn’t get ten feet before a single flap of the great wings had the Judge on top of him. I watched him struggle, then go limp. I saw the angel’s lips move, words of Judgment being passed, and the red glow emanated from inside the winged embrace. Again, no soul rose as the dust fell to the ground.

              I got to my feet and began to run, Margie urging me on from the window of the farm house. I heard the wings take flight behind me, and I ran as fast as I could.

             
Twenty more feet. Run!

              I knew the Judge would grab me from behind any second.

             
Ten more feet. Fuck.

              As I hit the porch I instinctively turned to look back. There was nothing behind me but the tall grass blowing in the breeze. Off in the distance I saw the Judge swooping down onto the third man as he ran across the field.

              “C’mon,” Margie insisted as she pulled me into the house. “You okay?”

              I nodded, struggling to catch my breath. “Yeah, I think so.”

              I sat for a moment on the couch, the dust kicking up into the air around me. Margie shut the door, intently watching the field. “We need to go, right now. He’ll come back for us. What were they doing in the barn?”