Chapter
38: Unfamiliar Territory
Brother
Gustavo flings the trucks backdoor wide. “Alright young brothers….” He calls
out grunting as he tosses down a metal ladder. “Come on up.” With that Brother
Gustavo vanishes again. Chips looks at the ladder catching Cody Carson’s gaze
in the process. “No need for the pity party Carson.” Chip tells the tall
soldier cradling the machine gun. Chip wheels in close to the truck’s massive
chrome rear bumper. He plants a hand down firmly then rocks forward pushing up
on one of his muscular arms. Chip flings his free hand up and over catching the
side of the door frame. Chip finds himself staring down at Carson “hey bro you
wanna toss that up to me?” He asks flipping his curly shoulder length dusty hair
back over his head with a gloved hand. Carson smiles grabbing the pistol from
the wheelchair along with “The Lucky Mallet.” He hands Chip up the hammer and
the pistol watching him jam the revolver deep into his pants pocket. Private
Carson slings his weapon over his back collapsing the sleek worn wheelchair. He
lifts it with one hand presenting it to Chip. Carson ascends the ladder as if
he were a tightrope walker as he nears the top a hand covered by a black glove
appears. Carson reaches forward taking Chip’s offer of assistance. “Thanks Chip
….. “ He says slightly winded. Carson is amazed Chip is already in his
wheelchair sporting a sideways grin. “No problem Carson but don’t make a habit
of it. I already have to drag my ass around I’m not going to drag yours too.”
Carson and Chip share a moment of understanding. They are both separated by
only a few years in but worlds apart by circumstances. “I’m gonna close us up
before Captain Freaky snaps out bro.” Carson leans out the door and tugs at the
aluminum ladder. Chips wheels up to the front of the vehicle. “Carson is
closing us up back there so what’s the plan Mr. Gustavo?” Gustavo glances over
his shoulder. “Let’s wait for the Private this way we’ll all be clear.” Chip
hunches his shoulders “Okay.” “Oh by the way Mr. Gustavo.” Chip taps the back
of the black leather seat. “Just so you know that thing you said earlier about
‘God helping those who help themselves’ it’s not in the Bible.” Brother Gustavo
bolts to his feet rounding the driver’s seat. “What?!” He shouts his teeth
bared into a sneer. Private Carson has moved in behind Chip with his right hand
placed on the butt of his sidearm. Brother Gustavo takes notice of Carson but
keeps his focus on the boy in the wheelchair who doesn’t flinch. “Umm yeah Mr.
Gustavo that’s not in the Bible.” Chip smirks locking the wheels on his chair.
“Benjamin Franklin said that Sir.” Brother Gustavo stops rubbing his temple.
“Son I am afraid that’s just not true.” His face has gone from anger to a weary
sort of confused. “Well you’re the expert then quote me the scripture.” Chip
challenges the man defiantly. “Uh …. Ummm.” Brother Gustavo stammers placing a
hand on the seat he’d risen from. “I think he got you Mr. Gustavo Sir.” Carson
speaks up his arms crossed over his wide chest. “So perhaps we can move past
this and you tell us what we are doing out here among the dead.” Gustavo slumps
backwards into his seat. “The Sin Preacher always says ‘God helps those’ …..”
He trails off staring out the truck’s front window at the rolling doors. “Hey
Mr. Gustavo with all due respect Sir. You remind me of that guy with the hunched
back in that movie my parents made my little sister stop watching.” Chip snaps
his fingers in the air trying to kick his memory into gear. Carson slaps his
forehead. “The Hunchback of something French …. I can’t remember.” “Yeah …
yeah.” Chip exclaims. “That’s the one Mr. Gustavo. It’s like you’ve been locked
in like a tower or something never thinking for yourself Sir just doing what
you’re told.” Chip leans up clapping Gustavo on his shoulder. “Don’t worry Sir
you’re with me and Carson now we’ll straighten you out.” They laugh aloud all
except Gustavo that is. He grips the steering wheel his knuckles cracking
audibly. “Who told you that?” He grumbles through gritted teeth. The laughter
stops as quickly as it had begun. “I’m sorry Mr. Gustavo really I am.” Chip
blurts blush rising up into his cheeks. “We didn’t mean no harm Sir just trying
break the ice and let you know the truth sir.” Gustavo turns his eyes narrow
still holding the wheel. “I said who told you that boy?!” He barks and this
time Carson does draw his sidearm. Carson squares the pistol’s sights right on
the man’s forehead. “Mhh …my … my mom Mr. Gustavo Sir.” The boy swallows hard.
Gustavo fixes his gaze back out the window. “Let’s go we have Unclean to
dispose of.” With that he reaches a spidery hand up to the visor depressing the
button on the door opener. Sunlight floods the shed as Brother Gustavo fires up
the engine its angry growl mimicking the one in his soul.
Gustavo guides his automotive abomination
over the soft grassy hills surrounding the church. He navigates the ice cream
truck with a purpose which Carson takes notice of. Carson takes the opportunity
to holster his pistol. He looks out of both sides of the truck never loosening
his grip on the handrail overhead. “Again Brother Gustavo what are we doing?”
Carson hopes the man will tune back in as he has seen Gustavo’s lips moving
since he rolled them out the opened the shed door. The man in the ice cream
uniform has clearly been holding a deep and meaningful conversation with
himself. “Have you ever noticed how we are relatively free of the Unclean?”
Carson mulls over the question. “Yeah I was wondering where all the Rotters and
Trotters were.” Gustavo cocks his head to side the way a confused dog does. “I
don’t understand Son … Rotters … Trotters?” Carson shouts over the big rig’s
engine. “Yeah that’s what we named them. The Rotter’s are the slow dumb ones
and the Trotters are the fast smart ones. Unfortunately you won’t know which is
really which until after dark.” Brother Gustavo shakes his head in disbelief.
“You still believe these are your so called zombies and this is all some
cliché’ by the book Hollywood apocalypse?” Gustavo stops talking craning his
head forward as if searching for a landmark. He turns the truck hard and heads
for a dense cluster of trees. “Well it’s not and I will prove it.” He says
slowing the ice cream truck down as he passes into the tree line. “The reason
you don’t see that many Unclean.” He emphasizes the word “unclean” as if to
prove a point. “It’s simple Mir ….” Brother Gustavo catches himself. He
swallows the woman’s name looking around. “I …. I mean The Sin Preacher.” He
looks back sheepishly. “She came up with a plan to keep them focused away from
us. And thank God she did because it works like a charm.” He motions for them to
look out the window shutting down the truck’s engine.
Chip
and Cody Carson follow Gustavo’s finger. They simultaneously lean in the
direction of the scene and then they recoil in unison. There half a mile in the
distance a rabid pack of zombies paw feverishly at a hunk of discolored meat
strung up from a tree. The meat hangs just out of reach of the dim witted Rotter’s
festering in the sun. “What the hell?” Comes the only statement Private Carson
can muster. “There must be like fifty of’em.” Chip utters in disbelief. “Yeah
Sin Preacher says we should hang this bait out overnight.” Gustavo pushes past
the boys gawking at the undead meandering aimlessly in the distance. “Sometimes
the smart ones … um ‘Trotters’ you called them.” Mockingly he makes air
quotations with his fingers. “They get the meat down and have at it.” He shakes
his head pulling on a pair of black rubber gloves. “It serves its purpose they
usually congregate in the area where they find our bait and leave us alone at
the church.” Chip unlocks the wheels and twirls about in his chair. He ducks
his head under Carson’s bulky body eyes wide. “So now what Mr. Gustavo.” He
begins to babble. “That’s a hungry horde of zombies waiting on us to make the
wrong move.” Gustavo stops mid squat before one of the long white ice cream
freezers. “Well son I restring the trap for tonight using the tree we’re parked
next to.” He flips the freezers lid up holding it in place with one hand. In
the freezer Chip can see rows of neatly packed meat. Brother Gustavo takes his
time with the look of a man selecting a choice cut for his evening supper. He
taps his chin almost comically. Chip’s face is pale he can feel his mouth
moving yet he knows he isn’t speaking. He does the only thing the can throwing
a feeble punch at Carson’s beefy thigh. “Owwwwch!” Carson protest like a child
rubbing the spot where Chip’s blow landed. “Hey man why’d …. “ Chip arm is out
stretched his finger shaking in the air. Private Carson’s words fail him as he
peers into the freezer of human meat. Mixed in among the chucks of mystery meat
are clearly identifiable pieces of dead humans in a wide range of skin tones.
Gustavo tugs a frozen short pink hairy leg free. “This will do nicely.” He says
turning about ignoring the pair. Gustavo takes a long stride to the rear of the
truck removing a folding painter’s ladder with his empty hand. He brings the
ladder back to the center of the truck planting it on the floor. He kicks the
legs open like a cops forcing a suspect to spread their legs. Scaling the
ladder the ice cream man starts whistling softly. Gustavo flips open a chrome
hatch in the roof and climbs through leg in hand.
“Holy shit bro we gotta do something that
motherfucker is crazy!” Carson means to whisper this revelation but he blurts
it out instead. “Well Cody you have two guns man use’em when he comes back in.”
Chip pleads with the soldier. “You have a gun too bro you do something.” Carson
runs his fingers nervously through his blond crew cut. “Fine let the kid in the
wheelchair do it.” Chip says throwing his arms in the air. “Wait Chip you ‘Mr.
Independent I did all that on my own blah … blah.’ You seriously want to play
the handicapped card now.” Carson stomps a large booted foot in frustration. Carson
stops in the middle of his tantrum gripped by an idea. He pulls his sidearm
from its holster. “Chip get in the driver’s seat and drive. We’ll just leave
his nutty ass hanging.” Chip laughs apprehensively. “Yeah we’ll leave him for
bait!” Chip wheels about as fast as he can but before he can hop into the driver’s
seat Brother Gustavo drops down through the hatch. Cody struggles to untangle
himself from his automatic rifle in the tight space. “Stay back!” Private
Carson shouts bringing the weapon to bear. Brother Gustavo brushes the weapon’s
barrel aside paying the panting young man no mind. He maneuvers past Chip
plopping down is his familiar worn seat. Snatching the gloves off once again he
whistles a melodic tune that Chip seems to remember from his childhood. Brother
Gustavo slides his hand across his homemade panel flipping the switch to deploy
the truck’s roof mounted hydraulic legs. “Hey man what the hell are you doing?”
Carson shouts still waving his rifle about the cabin. He can see some of the
dead at the outer edge of the crowd turn towards the noise. “Those things are
going to notice us.” He says voice cracking with fear. He steals a glance down
at Chip who is still looking down into the freezer of human sushi. “Well young
Private that’s exactly what I want.” Gustavo says turning in the seat as if he were
a tour guide. He doesn’t break eye contact as his hand slaps the switch that
starts the music. “Pop Goes the Weasel” Blares from the mounted speakers as the
plastic ice cream cone spins atop the roof. The herd of zombies come about
almost in unison. They make their way to the ice cream truck in en mass on
damaged unsure limbs. The moans of the walking corpses soon drown out the
melodic jingle overhead.
“Dude …dude what the fuck?” Carson stammers
backing up slamming the lid on the freezer full of body parts. This breaks
Chip’s trance in time enough for him to bear witness to the undead onslaught
closing in on them. Brother Gustavo stands to his feet hunching over just
slightly. “Young Mr. Carson I will forgive your foul tongue but once. I assure
you if you continue to use such ungodly language I will be forced to take
action against you.” Carson looks genuinely dumbfounded. “You lured us out here
with chopped up body parts man and then you ring the dinner bell for every
Rotter within miles of us.” Carson drags Chip’s wheelchair along with him in it
backwards putting space between them and the madman. The black rubber wheels
bounce across the polished metal floor as the wheel locks are still secured.
“You think my profanity is the biggest issue?” Carson looks around afraid to
get close to either of the grated open windows. The corpses have them encircled
as dozens of prying mangled finger attempt to snatch the welded gates down. At
the sight of the live humans the zombies switch seamlessly from confused moans
to lustful wails. “Look boys I didn’t lure you out here I really need your help
to kill these Unclean. Yes I admit I have a freezer full of human body parts
and meat.” Brother Gustavo holds his hands up in surrender to ease Carson’s
fears. “Look if someone comes to the church who has been bitten or as was the
case if one of our members gets bit. We will put them down out of mercy and
compassion.” Chip watches the man’s hard eyes soften. “I pray you never have to
witness someone who has been wounded by the Unclean succumb to their affliction.
It is an agonizingly horrible way to die.” Gustavo steeples his long fingers
together as if he’s praying. “Once we put the person out of their misery.
Pastor says we should put what we have to good use. You know waste not want not
like the good book says. I dispose of the bodies and harvest the remains to
help preserve the church.” Chip slowly raises his hand but he doesn’t wait to
be called on. He looks anxiously at the zombies as they claw about the widows
seeking an in. The beating of nearly a hundred undead hands almost make the
conversation impossible to be spoken. “Uh yeah not to be a smart ….. “ Ben
Junior reconsiders his words as he shouts. “Not to be a smart butt Mr. Gustavo
but Benjamin Franklin said ‘waste not want not’ too.” Chip looks back at Carson
swallowing a knot in his throat. He decides to poke the bear again. “Mr.
Gustavo are you sure you’re not worshiping Benjamin Franklin at First New
Faith?” The man’s eyes narrow into slits. “Boy I will not have my faith trifled
with nor will I ever be made out to be feeble minded again in this life.”
Gustavo moves like a snake in a flash he is
holding one of the wrought iron skews. “Young Mr. James I hope for your sake
what you say is true. When we return to First New Faith your mother and I shall
have a word with the Sin Preacher.” “Fine Mr. Gustavo can we leave now please?”
Chip speaks up almost begging. “I will make believers out of you yet.” He
points with the barbed end of the twisted metal. Brother Gustavo gets down his
face just out of the flayed fingers reach. His eyes fall on the Unclean before
him dull milky orange eye after dull milky eye until he finds one with a spark.
“Ah ha there you are.” Gustavo summons the boys closer. “First of all I assure you
our mission today is to dispose of all of the Unclean we find gentlemen. When
they are this close to the church we can’t risk them seeing us today and then
leading an attack against us tonight.” Carson’s weapon falls to his side he
gasps. “White Magic said some of them are smart at night and they can hold onto
memories from the days before.” Gustavo flips the handcrafted miniature spear
to Carson. “Indeed young Private Carson he was correct.” Gustavo ushers him
down closer. “You look in their eyes to see the spark of a trapped soul
inside.” He instructs Carson. “This is how I know these poor men and women have
been stuck in limbo trapped in these festering diseased shells since the
Rapture. At least these few are not the zombies you speak of.” Carson looks
back with apprehension at Chip who seems to be prodding him on with his eyes.
Carson places his face down the odor of the undead is almost unbearable. He can
see this man in some sort of police or prison guard uniform. The name “Hobart”
is stitched over his left breast pocket. All the snarling zombies have taken a
backseat to this one as Carson gazes into its eyes. Suddenly the eyes blink
focusing on his like a camera snapping a picture Carson thinks. “Shit …” He
yelps scurrying back into Chip’s chair Carson drops the skewer. “Judge not lest
ye be judged.” Gustavo says coming to stand over the boys. “And that I know for
a fact is in the Bible young Mr. James.” He adds for once not following through
with a chapter or verse. He grabs the fallen spear going back to the ghoul with
the troublesome eyes. Gustavo places his index finger in the metal ring at the
end hold the spear at its midpoint. “Even though he is aware my young friends.”
Gustavo speaks back at Chip and Carson. “Like the moth to the proverbial flame
he cannot ignore our warm flesh.” Gustavo stabs out between the grate
puncturing the Unclean’s eye socket with the quick twist of a man doing a yo-yo
trick. He spins the barbed end of the spear pulverizing the zombie’s frontal
lobe. The zombie known as “Hobart” drops lifelessly to the woodland floor to be
trampled under the frenzied feet of his kin. “Now boys we are burning daylight
grab a spear and pick a spot.” Gustavo orders his helpers to work. “We have
three more traps around the church to clear before sundown.” Chip and Carson hunch
their shoulders the way teenage boys do and set about their assigned task.
Several hours later the truck roars its way back to the First New Faith church.
All in toll having disposed over well over two hundred Unclean. All three
occupants sit quietly lost in weary thought. Blood and gore splattered over their
clothes and coating the inside of the once clean cabin. Brother Gustavo thinks
all the other chores can wait. He won’t even clean the truck off until morning.
As they back into the shed all he can think about is having The Sin Preacher
and Mrs. James sort some things out for him.
We have returned to our main story arc tonight. We have found Brother Gustavo, Chip and Private Cody Carson on clean up duty so to speak. They have spent day outside of the church and have no idea of what awaits them upon their return.
Come join us the week of September the 1st and we will all find out together what has transpired inside First New Faith since we last saw the James clan.
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Sincerely:
The Living Dark