Scavengers (19 page)

Dejah hurried through the corridors of the church, trying her best not to be recognized.  When any of the faithful spotted her, they reacted as if she was Jesus himself, and she just couldn’t take it. She wanted to scream at them to wake up, to see that Keller was twisting the scriptures and their minds. It sickened her to know that, out of anyone here, she had the power to break the spell that Keller had woven around these people. She was the one who’d arrived as a bleeding mass of flesh and the next day was completely regenerated. They would listen to her. It tore her up inside, but she didn’t dare cause a stir if she intended to get out of here with her life.

You’re being selfish
, came an accusatory tone deep in her mind.
No
, she told herself,
I’m trying to get to Selah, who needs me more than anyone. These people were screwed up when I got here, and they’ll be screwed up when I leave.

And leave she would.

Dejah made her way through the halls of the church, upstairs into some administrative offices. She checked the desk phones for live lines, but none worked. She was willing to bet Keller had the lines disconnected on purpose. She felt a sinking feeling in her gut. The man was insane. They didn’t have much time.

And, digging painfully at her heart was the unknown punishment Keller had exacted upon Shaun for his antics in the sanctuary yesterday morning. Dejah was terrified for the boy. She had to find him. They had to get out of this crazy place.

She tousled her hair so it hung in her face. She couldn’t do anything about her clothes.  The dress made her stick out like a ballerina at a square dance, but so many people were concerned with themselves and survival, no one seemed to notice.

She moved like a ghost through the marbled main entry hall. She passed through the massive corridor past the bookstore and coffee shop, went through the commons, and then followed the hallway that curved behind the sanctuary. It led to the Sunday school rooms being used for dorms. She guessed – hoped – she’d be able to find Shaun, and maybe even the Doc back here.

The red-carpeted hallway curved to the right. A few doors were open. People sat on cots, played cards, talked in hushed tones, stood gazing out of windows, prayed, sang or slept. It struck her just how many people were staying here. The sanctuary hadn’t been entirely full when Keller delivered his announcements, so she didn’t have any idea there were this many people in the church complex. Perhaps not everyone was crazy, brainwashed, or expecting God to show up handing out silver wings. It was a small comfort.

Dejah found the room serving as the makeshift medical center. Peering cautiously into the room, she saw Doc Ward hovering over a sleeping, sick child. He looked up with a scowl, but his expression immediately changed when he recognized her.

“What on Earth?” he said in a half-whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Shaun?”

The doc stared at her. His face was that of a hardened man doing what he had to in order to survive, but deeper in his eyes was compassion.

“Come on.” He waved for her to follow.

Two rooms down, Dejah found Shaun, asleep, curled on a cot. David sat in a chair next to him, guarding him. He was reading a book and looked up in surprise to see Dejah there. Doc Ward excused himself with a nod, returning to the med room.

David regarded her as she knelt beside Shaun.

“My god,” she breathed, brushing the hair from the teenager’s face. She looked up at David. His unshaven face looked severe, angry, his eyes full of sorrow.

“They brought him in a few hours ago. He’s been asleep ever since.”

“What did those bastards do to him?”

“He didn’t say,” David said. “But I’m guessing they didn’t take him to the fucking circus.”

Dejah rubbed Shaun’s back and he stirred. She perched beside him on the bed.

“Dejah?” he said sleepily.

“It’s me, Shaun.”

He pushed himself up and hugged her. She closed her eyes tight and tried not to cry at the things she saw in his face. Aging beyond his years, a desolate longing for a time before this world went completely mad, a strain no one should endure, much less anyone his age. Add to that a bone-weary exhaustion, and just looking at him made her want to mother him.

When Dejah released her embrace, again she was struck by what she saw in him.

“How are you?” Shaun said. “Is that asshole treating you okay?”

She laughed, tears coming to her eyes. “I’m okay. Keller treats me like a queen, a damn princess in a tower. I told him God told me to pray alone just so I could get of that damn room and find you. God, I’m glad you’re all right. I’ve been worried sick.”

Shaun mustered a smile. “I’m tougher than you think.”

“I think you’re pretty damn tough.” She ruffled his hair.

Shaun sobered. He glanced around before he said, confidentially: “We’ve got to get out of here.”

Dejah glanced to the door. The few people in the cots around them were oblivious. There was a woman with a little boy looking at her. Dejah looked away, guilty again. She tried to remind herself she wasn’t responsible for these people as her eyes grazed the child, legs swinging over the edge of the cot, playing a card game with his mom, unaware of the full measure of tragedy sweeping over their world.

Shaun said: “David has a helicopter. He can get us out of here.”

David nodded. “Not a lot of fuel, but probably enough to get us out of the metroplex.”

Dejah studied the man, recalling how he’d been at her bedside as she awoke from death the other day. Though unkempt and under stress, she found him handsome. He looked like he hadn’t slept well.

He focused on her, met her gaze. “You
do
realize the reverend is insane.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got no doubt of that, at all.”

“There’s not much hope of things around here getting any better,” David said. “If you ask me, things are probably going to get a hell of a lot worse.”

“Did you hear the announcement this morning?” Dejah whispered, not wanting the people around them to hear. They needed to be careful who overheard their conversations.

David shook his head.  Shaun said, “No.” 

“I was attacked in my sleep last night by one of the other ‘Daughters of Heaven’”—she curled it with finger quotes and said with derision—“The bitch came at me with a knife. The reverend has a two-way mirror in our room that he uses to watch us. He saw the whole thing and actually saved my life. Crazy bitch would have taken me out while I slept. She’s convinced she’s sent by God to be Keller’s true wife and I’m some imposter. Now Keller’s labeled her a tool of Satan and is having her killed tonight in some kind of public
execution
outside the church –
they’re going to feed her to the zombies
.”

David shook his head in horrified amazement.

Shaun grasped Dejah’s arm. “Let’s go now. You can’t go back. There’s no telling what he might do next. This might be the only time we see each other again.” His eyes were wild. Dejah’s heart raced as his fear infected her. She searched his face.

David reached for Shaun’s hand. His hand brushed Dejah’s arm. “We have to make a plan first,” David said. “If we leave right now, in the middle of the day, the guards will spot us. They’ve got this place wired with cameras. I’ve been listening to that scanner—” He pointed to the walkie-talkie scanner on the counter across the room. It was under a row of cabinets covered with children’s pictures of crayon-colored rainbows, remnants of when life had been sane. It was the same scanner on which he’d heard the announcement that Dejah and Shaun’s truck had been seen, when Carson and the others mounted their rescue force. “They keep a keen eye on the perimeter of the church grounds, which are huge, as well as the immediate building. I’ve seen little black domes in the ceilings. I’m guessing those are security cameras.”

Dejah looked around the room. The scanner crackled. They heard two guards checking in with each other:
No activity. All quiet
.

The mother of the boy looked up at the sound of the announcement. An elderly woman stirred in her nap at the sound. Footsteps passed in the hall along with the sounds of two people talking. The footsteps and voices continued through the hall.

“Anyway,” David said. “I landed my ‘copter in the parking lot on the south side of the complex. We need to find a clear path out there that won’t put us in danger of being attacked by the infected, and won’t get us detected by the guards. My guess is they’ve placed a great value on that whirlybird as part of their security for this operation. Or at least as an escape pod for Keller.”

“Do you really think you can get us out of here?” Dejah asked.

“David can do it,” Shaun said. He was confident. “He was in the Army in Desert Storm.  This ain’t his first rodeo.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence kid.”

Dejah smiled vaguely. She had to admit she sensed a strength about David that reassured her, that made her feel good about having him on their side. She found herself admiring the lines of his face, the flecks of beginning gray in his hair, the strong angle of his jaw and wide frame of his shoulders. “Any ideas?”

“Well,” David said. “If they’re going to have some sort of public spectacle tonight, that’ll be a perfect time for me to get outside. Then I’ll take a look at the lay of the land and see what’s the best way to escape detection. We need to get to the chopper, but once we get her in the air, there’s no guarantee they won’t try to shoot us down.”

Dejah nodded. She accepted this as truth, acknowledging the unhinged insanity of what was falling farther out of control here at the Church of the Risen King.

“So, I’ll take a look around tonight. Probably best for us to make a break for it as early in the morning as possible. Even just before dawn if we can.”

“Okay,” Dejah said.

“Do you think you can sneak away?” Shaun asked.

“I think so. I’ve been friendly with the reverend. As long as I return on time tonight, before sundown, I think he’ll trust me.”

“I take it he’s got you and the other Daughters of Heaven locked away in a room,” said David.

“You’d guess right on that.”

David looked her. His eyes were hard, but softened just for a moment with genuine concern for her safety.

“I can make it another night,” Dejah said.

“Good.”

“Speaking of which, I should probably go.”

Shaun gave her a final hug. “Be careful, Dejah.”

“I will.”

David stood. He followed her to the doorway of the classroom-turned dorm. At the threshold before she walked out, he laid one hand gently upon her shoulders. His grip was firm. He stood almost six inches taller than her. When he leaned close, she was embarrassed to admit the smell of him excited her, the touch of his hand gripping her shoulder made her wish he’d pull her into an embrace.

“Take care of Shaun. He’s still just a kid,” Dejah said. Her heart beat hard against her ribs as she watched David studying her expression. She told herself her infatuation was caused by the situation they were in, but there was no denying David was a handsome man.

“Be careful,” was all he said.

“I will.” She hurried away, but didn’t see the distant form of Carson, standing with T.D. at the end of the hallway, watching the exchange.

*       *       *

“They were talking confidentially, Reverend Keller,” said Carson. “Can’t say for sure what was said, but we can question some of the folks in the room to see what they heard.”

Reverend Keller sat in his study, surrounded by wood stained bookshelves loaded with the wisdom and theology of the ages. He looked small behind his oaken desk, the light from the banker’s lamp shining over his waxen features. He looked ill, aching inside, eyes dark and mad. He stared past a nearby end table, the couch next to it empty.

“I bring this information to you, Reverend, because that man is one of the few among us who can fly the chopper. And that’s a valuable piece of equipment.”

Keller nodded distantly. “You think they’re planning to leave?” His voice was monotone, almost too quiet to hear.

“Possibly, sir.”

“And to take Dejah with him?”

“It looked that way, sir.”

Reverend Keller looked at Carson and then beyond, the intensity of his glare piercing the shadows gathered in his study. “Do we have someone else who can fly the helicopter, if necessary?”

“Yes, sir. I can fly it. So can Graham. We served together.”

Nodding, the reverend refocused his stare on the shadowy corner. “Kill him,” he said.

“Yes, sir.” Carson nodded and left the room.

Keller impatiently drummed his fingers atop a black leather Bible, a tremor of rage shaking his hand, as shadows gathered around him in the deepening twilight. 

On the west side of the Church of the Risen King, the commons opened onto a long outdoor portico with square stone pillars under which twenty or so tables were set for diners to enjoy in mild months.  This long porch, back-lined by glass doors leading from the café and commons was now filled with those who’d come early to view the execution. Just past the edge of the concrete patio, an expanse of lawn stretched to the four-lane church drive. It wound south past the front of the main church building, toward the school’s baseball field and football stadium. Visible from the porch, however, just on the other side of the drive, was a grassy slope leading down 250-yards to a man-made pond with a fountain which Keller insisted be left on, to demonstrate that the Living Water of the Sprit still flows, even in these end times. A man-made island with a gazebo lay in the center of the pond. Beside the gazebo stood a thirty-foot cross, with a bench situated in front for those who’d come to pray. An arched bridge led to the island.

It made for a lovely vision in the evening. The sun set in brushed hues of pink and lavender over the rolling hills and forest beyond the edge of the church property, reflecting on the surface of the pond just this side of the treeline. Looking into the hazy distance as the moon rose, one could almost forget the metroplex existed within twenty miles of here. One could almost forget a virus that made people eat living flesh infected the world. One could almost forget … until the children of Hell emerged from the forest.

A heavily armed group of five men took Zanine, bound, down to the island. She tried to wrestle free as they tied her securely to the base of the cross. Her cries echoed over the hill. They weren’t close enough to hear what she said, only the tones of panic and frantic pleas.

David stood among the crowd. It seemed that about 200 people had arrived for the event. Makeshift fencing was erected around the nearest grassy area, attempting to make a protected place so people could come outside, but remain safe from the infected. David scanned the faces. He recognized the same faithful crazy people who usually packed the sanctuary. Keller’s desperate followers. 

The woman guard who’d watched over their room the night before last stood twenty feet away, a rifle in her hands.
Kathryn
, he recalled. She met his eyes. He looked away with a nonchalant turn of the head.

What he was really interested in was the lay of the land. How could they get outside, past the fence, and back to the helicopter? David could see the gate through which the guards took their victim, but they had to unlock a chain to get through. He couldn’t see the helicopter from here. It was clear the best route was straight out the front doors. Disguising his disappointment, he pretended to be interested in the ensuing insanity.

As he swung his head back over the crowd to the central scene, he noticed in his peripheral vision Kathryn was still staring at him. He focused on the spectacle down the hill.

The guards, two of them in plain clothes, three of them in soldier’s fatigues, strapped Zanine securely to the base of the cross’s upright. Her screams rose over the grassy rise and echoed beneath the overhangs of the porch. As her screams turned to terrified cries, the assembled crowd quieted. Many who were seated now stood. David hadn’t come to watch so much as to plot a way to the chopper, but he found he couldn’t look away from the horror on the other side of the road.

The soldiers who tied Zanine in place hurried across the bridge back toward the church complex. The children of Hell emerged from the woods, drawn by the woman’s screams and the scent of warm flesh and blood. Half of the infected demonstrated a complete lack of rational thought by plunging headlong into the pond on a direct course to their would-be meal. Those that did so sank deeper into the water with each staggering step. Others were smarter. They surveyed the scene, saw the woman, and then made lurching paths around the edge of the pond to the bridge.

The fastest zombies dashed after the soldiers. With a rattle of gunfire they sprayed bullets behind them on their retreat to the church. One of the plain-clothed men was the last one back.  One of the zombies caught him. It had his pant leg. The man yanked, struggling through the gate of the fence surrounding the spectators on the lawn. His buddy unloaded his 9-mm pistol into the zombie’s head. The skull exploded. One of the soldiers kicked with a heavy boot, dislodging the clutching hand. A third man dragged them the rest of the way onto the lawn and secured the chained gate with a padlock.

Zombies in the distance crossed the bridge in a steady stream. Cold wind rose as night fell, carrying the scents of fetid decay. Lights came on around the gazebo island. Spotlights were aimed at the tall white cross, illuminating Zanine in a supernatural glow.

The children of Hell set upon her with relish. Her screams rose to a fevered pitch, twisted into strangled cries of agony. They ripped into the soft flesh of her abdomen first. They tore her open and spilled her entrails, steaming, onto the earth. Two of the zombies went immediately for the viscera, picking up the white loops in greasy strands and shoving them into mouths. Rotted teeth went for her throat next. Zanine’s anguished screams were drowned in bubbling gouts of blood as an emaciated zombie woman savagely ripped the esophagus and windpipe from Zanine’s neck. Skin tore. The ragged ends of the organs hung from the new gaping wound.

The children of Hell clawed the skin from Zanine’s face, stripped the muscles from her legs like one might tear well-cooked meat from the bone, fighting over the thighs, yanking the calves as skin slipped away in slicks of blood. It was utter carnage. The fiends gathered at the foot of the cross like roaches, the sounds of their groaning and growling rising in a furious crescendo as they fought for what was left of the ravaged corpse.

David’s stomach turned as he realized people had begun to chant and cheer.

“Die, bitch!” yelled a man in glasses, his eyes wide.

“Death to the Devil’s whore,” screeched a woman near him, full of rage. She pumped her fist in the air as she repeated her mantra.

“—the devil’s tool—” shouted someone else.

“—sent to bring down the Lord’s kingdom—”

“—for the best of us all. Death to all who would bring sin upon us—”

And on and on. David looked around him incredulously. The mob was standing. The throng ebbed with rising energy, like a single electrified mass, working into a frenzy. They pressed against him in their excitement. He tried to turn away, to get back inside, before things got out of control.

A tall man, one of those in plain clothes who’d delivered Zanine to her death was suddenly before him. David looked into the man’s bearded face and tiny, rat-like eyes. The man shoved against him and David felt pain in his side, like a combination between a sudden painful pocket of gas, and the burn of a cold slice when you cut yourself on a razor.

David gasped, turned quickly, clutching his side.

The lower left side of his abdomen was ebbing with heat and leaking blood. His fingers came away wet with it. It looked black in the darkness.

He’d been stabbed.