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Authors: lazarus Infinity

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BOOK: Occupation
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“You know, I’ve had just about enough of you talking shit about Miley Cyrus!  Now if you have a problem with my taste in food, fashion and music, then I can leave and you can
clean this shit up by yourself.  Besides, style my brother, is knowing who you are, what you want to say and not giving a damn-Gore Vidal.” 

“What the hell is this world coming to,” Barabbas mumbled to himself as he popped the trunk.

A small, makeshift arsenal of guns, machetes, knives and other forms of weaponry were scattered about inside.  Barabbas reached in, grabbing his trusty .9mm Beretta and racking the slide.  Along with that, he pulled forward a machete, sliding it inside a makeshift holster attached to his hip. 

“Pussy”, Nicodemus muttered as he reached in and pulled forward a beautifull
y polished .44 magnum, complete with several rounds of bullets. 

“We should’ve brought shotguns,” Barabbas said.
  “Last time things got a bit too hectic for my taste.” 

“Hey man, I’m sorry for the absolute last ti
me,” Nicodemus replied.  “Gabriel’s supposed to have some ready for us when we get back.  Won’t happen again.” 

Barabbas checked out the area while clutching his gun close.  Only broken down power lines, trash and abandoned cars remained parked alongside strip
ped down storefronts and abandoned homes.  Why the city hadn’t done anything about this part of town was both a shame and a mystery.  Barabbas eyed his target; an old, abandoned church which had clearly seen better days.  Pilgrim Progress Missionary Baptist Church held some rather nostalgic memories for him from the days of his youth.  Many years ago, Barabbas along with an old childhood friend both had been baptized there.  The memory sent a surge of melancholy through him, as he’d received word years ago of his friend’s unfortunate passing.  Jacob Forlorn.  He hadn’t seen him in ages. 

“How many you think might be inside?” Barabbas asked. 

“Only one way to know for certain,” Nicodemus replied.  The last few churches we cleared had nests of about six or seven strong.  And who knows how long it’s been since anyone’s been in this neighborhood.” 

“Alright, let’s start with the basement this time, just to get it out of the way.  Not exactly
in the mood for surprises today,” Barabbas said.  “Besides, it’s almost getting dark.” 

“The basement?” Nicodemus asked.  “You don’t want to warm up to it at least?  Last time I damn near got my ass chewed off.” 

“Hey, suck it up,” Barabbas replied.  “Am I my brother’s keeper?” 

Nicodemus gave him a wary look. 

“Fine,” he answered as he looked up at the church.  “Don’t start none, won’t be none.” 

Just as Barabbas
slammed the trunk door shut, the two heard yet another ghastly wail coming from inside. 

“Fuck,
we should’ve brought shotguns,” Nicodemus said. 

The duo slowly approached the church, looking in ne
arly every direction as they made their way up the stairs.  As Barabbas reached the last step, he placed his gun down and bowed before a statue of an angel looming above them. 

“Are you gonna do this every time we clear out one of these places?” Nicodemus asked.  “I mean goddamn-“ 

“Hey, watch the blasphemy,” Barabbas replied.  “I still can never get used to this.” 

Nicodemus gave
him a perturbed look. 

“Are we doing this or not?” Barabbas asked. 

“Fine,” Nicodemus muttered as he knelt before the statue. 

Barabbas bowed his head. 

“Father we humbly come before you on this day asking for strength, patience and guidance with what we are about to endure as we enter your house.  We ask for your mercy and forgiveness as we are forced to slaughter innocent human life-“ 


Innocent
?” Nicodemus retorted.  “B, these mother-“ 

“Shhh!” Barabbas interjected. 

“We ask for your mercy and forgiveness as we are forced to slaughter innocent human life in the midst of a city that has either forgotten or neglected its duty to its people.  We ask these things in your son Jesus’ name…Amen.” 

“That was beautiful Rev. Francis.  Are you done?  Can we go to work now?” 

Rev. Francis
.  The name sent a chill through the body of Barabbas Purify.  During his more innocent and carefree years as a child in the ‘Big Easy’, the much-revered Rev. Francis was a man amongst men.  He was one of those rare ministers who truly walked in the faith…and taken all too soon up to the new world to come.  Barabbas had many fond memories of the man; most important of these was the day he was baptized.  Following in the footsteps of his childhood friend Jacob Forlorn, he hoped that he too would one day bask in the light of ‘the upper room’ as the elders referred to Heaven.  That was ages ago.  Barabbas drew his machete as he grabbed the door handle.  He looked back at Nicodemus, who already had his .44 drawn. 

“Conserve the bullets,” he said.  “Only if we need them.  No need to draw
out any more of them who may be lurking around.” 

Nicodemus gave an annoyed look as he holstered his weapon in exchange for his baseball bat.  The door easily gave away from the slight force of Barabbas tugging on it.  With a careful glance at Nicodemus, the message was clear; someone was definitely inside.  They’d come across this on numerous occasions and prepared for the worst.  The acrid stench of death and decay marched through their nostrils as a gust of d
ust blew their way while making it inside.  The basement was an empty tomb of dust and debris along with turned over tables and broken chairs.  No people.  No sounds.  Nothing. 

“You know, I’m thinking I could really go for a steak taco right now,” Nicodemus uttered. 

Barabbas glanced back at him. 

“What?” Nicodemus asked
.  “You know I get hungry when I’m nervous.” 

“Stay focused,” Barabbas fired back.  “I don’t want to be in here all day.”
 

Slowly making their way through the dimly lit basement, Barabbas took notice of an old, condemned elevator to his immediate left.  Both doors were closed.  Nicodemus made his way to the
other side of the room, baseball bat cocked and ready.  Past the mass collection of tables and chairs was the kitchen, where the congregation used to cook dinners every third Sunday.  Barabbas remembered those well, as Cherry Forlorn, Jacob’s mother was a constant fixture in the kitchen.  A beloved figure in her own right, he remembered her fondly, and could still see her smile beaming out from behind the kitchen window.  His nostalgic musings came to a crashing halt at the screech of a chair sliding across the floor.  Barabbas looked over at Nicodemus.  Not being mindful of his surroundings, the kid nearly tripped over himself.

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

It was then that it happened.  That familiar staggering and shuffling of decrepit footsteps could only mean one thing. 
They were not alone

“Showtime,” Nicodemus said. 

“Alright,” Barabbas replied.  “Just remember, no cowboy shit this time.  Quick and easy, in and out.” 

“Don’t worry,
I got this,” Nicodemus muttered.  “Come on out and show that pretty little face.” 

They didn’t have to wait long.  Just from out behind the kitchen wall came…
one of them
.  Standing in the doorway, the ‘woman’s’ foul tattered clothing smeared with blood was enough to make one wretch.  Her dark, desolate eyes sunk deeply into the back of her head, Nicodemus could see that a side of her face was missing.  It had either been cut off…
or chewed off

“Goddamn, these bastards get more and more revolting every time,” Nicodemus said as he inched closer.
 

Barabbas moved in behind him, watching his footing and surroundings.  The woman crept closer toward Nicodemus as he readied his weapon. 

“That’s it, come closer baby,” he whispered. 

She reached out to him as she got closer, only to be met with a sharp wh
ack to the head from his baseball bat.  Blood and bits of brain splattered everywhere as he took her down.  As he knelt down to get a closer look, he never saw a second woman lurking out from the kitchen.  Barabbas rushed over and wasted no time in splitting her head with his machete.  Nicodemus lurched back from his rapid fire swinging. 

“You wanna give me a heads up next time?” he asked. 

“Were you trying to give her a kiss?” Barabbas replied.  “Take them down and leave them laying, just like always.  What’s the matter with you?” 

“Alright Pops, I got it,” Nicodemus replied.  “Don’t get crazy on me already.” 

Barabbas quickly did a search of the kitchen.  A grotesque decay of kitchen equipment, waste and blood was all that was left. 

“All clear back here,” he said.  “Time to check upstairs.”

The narrow stairway leading up to the church was almost too foul to climb, with its morbid paintings of blood plastered all over the walls.  Gnats buzzed everywhere.  The closer they got to the top; they could hear random movement about from inside.  It wasn’t over yet, as they could hear the familiar ripping of flesh and gnashing of teeth.  Barabbas looked at Nicodemus. 

“Ready?” 

“Am I my brother’s keeper?” Nicodemus replied. 


You damn right,” Barabbas said as they readied their weapons and made their way through the slowly swinging door into the church.

A gross and beleaguered display of a sanctuary ripped to pieces from its former state of glory, the sight was enough to bring Barabbas to his knees.  Overturned pews, broken windows, bloodstained
carpet and dilapidated wood were all that remained.  His bright memories forever tainted by this horrible image, what came next filled him with dread followed by anger.  A pack of decayed men and women were ripping into the flesh of an unfortunate homeless man as if it were their last meal.  Bits of blood, brain and bone splattered everywhere.  Crows cawed and scurried about before one of them got caught in the clutches of a man who wasted no time in biting its head off. 

“Jesus Christ,” Nicodemus muttered to himself. 

It wasn’t long before the man turned his attention to Barabbas and Nicodemus, slowly staggering his way toward them.  His face a pale, distorted mesh of decay and death, blood dripped from his jowls and his cracked, mangled fingers clawed through the air as he approached.

“Stay together like always,” Barabbas said.

Nicodemus nodded as he readied his weapon.  The man inched closer, his eyes glowing with rage as he snarled toward them.  In a flash, they both took him down, swinging away with bat and machete until his head was completely separated from his body. The four individuals gnawing on the lifeless homeless figure now focused their attention on the duo, clawing their way toward them.  Barabbas made quick work of one, giving a quick slice directly across the face that took half of the man’s head completely off.  Clean kill.  Not elegant, but efficient.  Fatality.  Nicodemus nearly found himself cornered by the other two before leg sweeping the woman as Barabbas sliced away at the other man, taking him down.  The woman grabbed at Nicodemus’ collar, reaching for his throat before he knocked her back.  In a flash, he mounted the woman and bashed what was left of her face in, leaving a gruesome pool of blood and brain on the carpet.  Looking at the figure, he took a moment to catch his breath. 

“Well…that was easy enough,” he said. 

Barabbas nodded in agreement. 

No sooner than he’d uttered the words did the two of them hear a savage growling coming from above.  Both looked up at the second floor of the church where a disheveled balcony remained to see two nearly naked and muscular men snarling down at them. 

“Maybe not,” Nicodemus said. 

What happened next couldn’t have been predicted if one tried.  Without warning, the two grotesque men
jumped
from the second floor with the skill and balance of trained gymnasts.  Barabbas stood stunned. 

“What the fuck?” he said. 

“Wait a minute,” Nicodemus said.  “They’re not supposed to be able to do that!” 

The two hideous figures wasted no time, screaming and running toward both of them.  Nicodemus and Barabbas both ran as fast as they could, scrambling over broken pews and dead bodies up past the pulpit to the choir stand for higher ground.  One of the men quickly caught up with Barabbas, knocking him over and pinning him down in one of the seats.  His eyes filled with an almost demonic rage
, Barabbas struggled to keep him from inching closer, baring rotten, mangled teeth.  Meanwhile, Nicodemus was caught in a struggle of his own trading blows with the second figure.  Kicking and swinging wildly, Nicodemus managed a firm kick in the gut that sent the man backward for a moment.  He wasted no time in cocking his bat and swinging straight for the man’s head.  To his astonishment, the man simply staggered back for a second.  Nothing.  This fight was not over. 

“Goddammit!” Nicodemus screamed.  “This fucker won’t go down!” 

As the man began to approach him, Nicodemus drew his .44 and blasted two rounds directly into his head that put him down for good.  He regained his composure as he stared down at the lifeless body, spitting on it for good measure. 

BOOK: Occupation
12.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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