Chapter 40: The Congregation

Chapter 40: The Congregation

  He feels his head spinning as if he’d spent the day drinking then hopped on a Tilt a Whirl. Ben is so woozy that the world before his eyes appears as a shapeless blob of white. His head flops about on his shoulders like he’s an infant. His mind cleared slowly so he focuses on the one clear memory drifting among the mental fog in his head. The Sin Preacher his mind meandered she had threatened him. The woman had revealed her true colors by telling him she “wanted Jamal and baby Cammy as payment or something equally as heinous.” Ben’s stomach reacted bitterly to the vertigo seizing his senses. He fights to clear his mind he needed to find his people and get the hell out of First New Faith. Ben pulled himself together staring at the blinding white light before him. He sees the silhouette of an angel floating in the midst of a fiery ring of light shining through an amber colored stained glass window. “Come on Ben.” The man prods himself mentally to get going. Gravity pulls his head to the left causing Ben to struggle to hold his head up. The blurry outline of a man appears to his left. Ben ignores the figure he instead puts all his efforts into standing up. His hands feel heavy his arms moves as if he’s swimming in tree sap. Indecipherable words filter into his ears as background noise. It drifts up sounding like a crowded train station around him. Ben stands to his feet by clamping down on the chair in front of him. He sways in place fighting the effects of the blow to the back of his head that had rendered him unconscious. He felt as if it had reset his brain nothing moved at the correct speed. Ben had that sensation of being in a dream trying to move while being held back. His knees buckle painfully slamming into the back of the wooden bench he clung to for support. He barely manages to remain standing glancing down at his hands. What he sees puzzles him his hands are clasped together as if he is praying. He must be still suffering from being knocked out. He believes his hands are bound at the wrist.

 

   Ben casts a drunken sideways gaze at the man standing to his left. They are eye level with the man being slightly taller than Ben. With all the background conversations and mumbling going on Ben can’t make out the man’s words. He sees the lean gaunt fellow dressed in stained bright orange clothing. He stares at the man they catch each other’s eye Ben’s head tilts to the side similar to a confused dog. Ben shakes his head vigorously back and forth attempting to snap himself back to reality. The man’s orange jumpsuit is filthy with deep crimson black stains covering him from head to toe. What perplexes Ben the most is the man’s eyes they seem diseased and dull with a slight shiny hint of orange. Ben’s subconscious begins to scream at him from the foggy haze of his mind. He can’t make out the voice which seems to call to him from down a long dark hallway. He looks the man up and down leaning in to get a closer look. He can see inside the man’s mouth. His crooked yellowed have tatters of something caught in them. “Must have ... just eaten.” Ben thinks leaning in to examine the red sauce coating his new found friend’s face. The voice in his head grows louder but can only hear snippets of the words it screams at him. In his dream like stupor Ben becomes painfully aware of a gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach. He is literally starving without thinking he raises his hands to the man’s face as they both rock in place. The man turns his mouth hanging slack as he playfully nips at Ben’s finger like a puppy. He misses providing Ben the opportunity to jab his finger at the man’s cheek. Ben drags his thick index finger through the stain on the man’s face narrowly avoiding his wild blond facial hair. The man’s skin is cold and clammy. His skin feels rough like old wet leather. Ben’s finger comes back slick coated in a sticky red goo. Ben stares down at his fingers as he rubs them slowly together. He can see now his hands they are bound with a thick dirty piece of rope at the wrist. Down further he can see the naked brown meat of his thighs. Is he naked “why in the hell would I be naked?” He thinks to himself climbing out of the dissipating murkiness enveloping his mind. It is replaced with that illogical confusion one feels during a particularly lucid dream. Ben touches his thigh smearing a red stain across his brown skin. Unlike the man besides him his skin is warm to the touch. Benjamin James panics he becomes acutely aware that he is more coherent than he thinks he is. “He’s dead!” The voice in his head screams with such ferocity Ben’s head snaps back. He’s looking the man in his face and only now does he take in the sickly greyish color. A groove made by his finger is visible in the blood slick on the dead man’s cheek. The man in the gore covered orange jumpsuit turns to face him on heavy feet. The dead man utters a low guttural moan sending Ben tumbling backwards in terror.

 

   Ben lands hard on his back his head scanning the room. His vision having cleared Ben is aware there are people swaying in place all around him. The mumbling that had filtered into his ears plays from speakers overhead. The Sin Preacher’s voice pours from the rafters raining down in a hypnotic sermon. There are old brown wooden pews on either side of him as he rolls about on the floor. He is laying naked on a filthy frayed red rug. Looking over his head he spies two doors bolted and chained shut. Ben sits up panting “I’m in the church sanctuary!” He spins back in the direction of the figure he assumed to be an angel. It steps out of the halo of early evening sunlight at the end of the aisle. The Sin Preacher saunters down the aisle in a full length white robe with gold trim. She carries a small black microphone her arms outstretched like a bird seeking to take flight. Ben has found the source of the voice he heard filling his concussed mind. Her smile seems to outshine the shaft of sunlight behind her bathing the small chapel. Another moan pulls his attention back to the zombie in the prison jumpsuit. The walking corpse takes a few unsteady steps in his direction. Ben’s glances to his right looking for a way out. Seated with her bound hands nestled in her lap is Private Sara Lockett. She sits nude staring straight ahead shaking uncontrollably. Ben guesses the girl’s shivering is due to fear rather than the temperature. “Sara …” He wheezes as if his voice would set off an avalanche of the undead. Her head turns mechanically in his direction. Her eyes are wide and her cheeks are wet with tears that have spilled down onto her breasts. Sara silently shakes her head “no” deliberately mouthing the word. Her lower lip quivers with such force Ben doubts she could actually speak. She mouths the words “help me” then robotically turns back to face the front of the church. A long bone chilling groan erupts across the aisle. Ben whips his head back in time to see the undead convict attempting to navigate his way out of the pew. “Easy my child ….” The Sin Preacher says walking smoothly into Ben’s nightmare. With mannerisms more suited to a mother she prods the fussy zombie back into the pew. “Mr. James …” She turns showing no fear of the living corpse. “Welcome you have met my flock now let me introduce you to my congregation.” She announces with glee. Alarmed Ben looks around the room finally. The pews are filled with zombies all standing swaying in place like obedient dogs waiting for their master’s command. Ben gasps aloud there at the end of the aisle backlit by the waning late day sunlight. He makes out the outline of a person chained to the floor. Ben sits gazing past the Preacher’s he recognizes the man chained to the floor before a small pulpit.

 

   “Jamal!” Ben screams having found control of himself. He struggles to heft his girth up and onto his feet. “You sick bitch let him go.” Ben demands storming towards the woman who simple pushes her glasses up on her narrow nose. “Stay where you are fool and still thy tongue in this house of worship.” The Sin Preacher commands as Ben continues in her direction. When he shows no signs of stopping she raises the microphone in her hand. Miriam quickly flips a switch on the bottom of the mic and the prerecorded sermon wafting from the speaker’s stops. Suddenly the once docile moaning zombies become enraged caged beast. Snarls echo out as every zombie in the room starts to moves like a pack. They stumble for the warm living morsels of flesh locked in the church’s cramped nave with them. Benjamin’s feet won’t budge from the moldy carpeted floor then he finds the reverse button. He begins to back pedal from The Sin Preacher as she stands up boldly defying the zombies to attack her. She doesn’t flinch as they living dead begin to encircle her. Ben trips over a body on the floor he lays out in the air landing hard. His tender head impacts the floor but this time Ben fights to maintain his consciousness. He is eye level on the floor staring into Sara Lockett’s terrified face. A blast of feedback rattles from the speakers mounted around the hall. “At first light ….” The Sin Preacher speaks softly into her microphone. “The king came unto the lion’s den.” The riled up zombies cease their aggressions almost immediately upon hearing The Sin Preacher speak. “He called out Daniel has your God protected you from the lions this night?” The woman chuckles softly into the microphone. She spins about joyfully like an amused child. The Preacher raises her microphone flipping the switch once more. The church’s sound system plays Miriam’s recorded sermon for the undead masses. She takes several steps forward as the zombies around her wander back into the pews. “So Sara do you still fancy me fool?” She asks kneeling down getting in close to Ben and Sara. “You believe these poor folks to be dead to be … zombies.” She spits the word out with a sneer. “You couldn’t see the truth and for a while ......” The Sin Preacher looks around the room. “Neither could I. The Lord he opened my eyes as surely as he made the blind man see.” The Sin Preacher takes a few short steps over to a tall brutish zombie. The huge walking corpse is dressed in sand covered bloodied military fatigues. He is missing his right arm it looks to have been chewed off above the elbow. The Sin Preacher playfully runs her fingers through his spike salt and pepper hair. The zombie cast his dull gaze upon her like a dim witted dog. A spark of intelligence flickers across the dead man’s jellied eyes. “You girl you mocked me.” Pointing an accusing finger at Sara who lays trembling curled in a naked ball on the floor. “You were right to mock me young Sara. For I myself initially missed what God was trying to reveal to me.”  

 

    The Sin Preacher turns back to Ben and Sara. “One of my first encounters with the Unclean was right here in this sanctuary.” She waves a hand about causally talking. “One of our members was bitten when she came to us after The Event.” The Sin Preacher moves back to where Ben and Sara are cowering. “She succumbed to her injuries that day. So we lay her down here in the pulpit.” She motions over her shoulder at Jamal. “She lay right there where the heathen is chained to the floor.” Jamal moves slightly the steel chains locking each arm to the floor rattle. Ben feels helpless looking at a beaten Jamal laying in what appears to be the remains of a butcher gone mad. “When she was raptured her body was resurrected without her soul. I was preaching in the pulpit my flock deserted me they fled in every direction. So I kept preaching and as she drew nearer to me I could see a spark.” Miriam stops looking back out the high stain glass window. The Sun was preparing to relent to the moon for yet another night. “Her eyes weren’t just dull and lifeless. So I preached to her fed that need in her to be nurtured by the Word. When Brother Gustavo happened upon us. I had him restrain her until I could formulate a plan.” The Sin Preacher strolls slowly down the aisle. As she passes Jamal he pulls back from her like an animal in fear. She glides smoothly up the three short steps taking up position behind her white podium. “You see not all of the Unclean are truly soulless my friends.” She raises her voice over the playback hypnotically keeping the dead at rest. “I sent Brother Gustavo out to do my work so that I may do the Lord’s work. He gathered all of the Unclean who showed the spark of a soul from near and far. Then he brought them to me here to be ministered to …. To be shown the light so to speak.” She claps her hands together pressing them to her lips attempting in vain to suppress a smile. “When I speak it soothes their tormented souls. They listen to me, they hear me and they obey the sound of my voice.” The last part she pronounces with such self-righteous grandiosity Ben expects her to take a bow. “I protect them during the day when they are at their most venerable and they return the favor unto me at night.” The Sin Preacher scans the room looking out over her congregation with a certain sense of pride. She keeps the audio of her mock sermon just loud enough to be heard like background noise at a party. Downstairs is another matter entirely she has commanded the volume be raised nightly. This way it masks any wayward noise the congregation might make that would alert the flock. Her eyes sink to the naked olive skinned young man at bound in sacrifice before her. One last glance back at the fading sun and she knows it’s almost time.

 

  “There is only one drawback tour little arraignment Mr. James. You will find out what this unfortunate drawback is like every other person in that room downstairs has.” She presses her glasses on her nose again. “My congregation can’t overcome the one major side effect of their current condition and that is the need to feed on warm human flesh.” She holds her index finger up as if she has just gotten an excellent idea. “They have to be fed like any good guard dog to ensure not only their obedience but that do not turn on their master. My flock who were with me before this all came about are exempt. However those folks like yourself Ben who have found themselves in need of shelter during this time of Tribulation. Well they my friend must choose from among themselves a sacrifice whose death will pay for their safety.” She turns her finger down at Jamal who begins to tug at his restraints. Ben leaps to his feet unsure of what to do next. “Now Ben before you act know this. This filthy heathen and that fatherless infant will pay for your family and the rest of your group’s passage here at First New Faith. Would you sacrifice them all for one who is ignorant to the ways of the Lord and a child who is granted automatic passage into the Kingdom of Heaven?” Ben’s words fail him as he looks at Jamal’s bruised body. He finds himself glaring at The Sin Preacher his eyes bubbling with hate. The Sun throws off its last light before sinking down below the horizon. As the sun fades he is drawn to the face of the zombie nearest him. It was his old buddy in the orange prison jumpsuit. The corpse’s molted sunken upturned face slowly comes to life. Its eyes loose much of the cloudy as an orange flecked glittery light seeps into them from the edges. The mouth which had hung open like a putrid fly trap turns into a bone chilling sneer. “Awwwwwww fuck yeah!” The dead man burst to life along with the rest of the congregation. He leaps for Ben cackling like a madman. “Stop Ian.” The Sin Preacher shouts from the behind the podium on the stage. “You will not harm these two do I make myself clear?” She tells the ghoul as the rest of the Unclean now mill about uncharacteristically repressing their murderous cannibalistic ways. “What why the fuck not?” The dead killer snarls moving in close enough to cause Ben’s bladder to go. “Ha he pissed himself.” The zombie missing an eye and most of the bone in the surrounding socket standing over Ian’s shoulder laughs. “Hobart shut the fuck up I want to hear why I can’t skin tinkles or this bitch on the floor here.” The Sin Preacher comes down from her perch undead part allowing her to pass. “Ian you and Hobart have served me well and you have helped me do the Lord’s bidding as he has instructed me.” She pats the dead convict on the shoulder. “These two are far too troublesome to allow refuge among us. So I am casting them out for they are non-believers who shall reap what they have sown. I want you and Hobart to provide them safe passage. Take them out into the wilderness leave them to wander as God did Moses and the children of Israel.” The Sin Preacher steps to Ian Lawson poking a finger into his chest. “My word is my Bond Ian and as so it cannot be broken. Ensure that no harm comes to them by your or Hobart’s hand I will reward you most handsomely my child.” Ian shoot a glance over at Hobart who simply hunches his shoulder. “How handsomely?” He asks running his dry discolored tongue over his jagged teeth. The Sin Preacher pulls Ian by the collar bringing his ear down mere inches from her lips. “In my office I have a plump innocent morsel that you may have for yourself. A baby Ian for you and you alone my most trusted disciple.” Ian Lawson rights himself lost in the Sin Preacher’s eyes. “Deal …..“ He says grinning.

 

  “Mr. Lawson …. Mr. Hobart our guest if you please.” The Sin Preacher points to Ben and Sara as she heads back to the altar. The ghouls each grab a human Lawson grabs Ben roughly by his neck. Hobart is not as gentle “C’mon bitch” he blurts snatching Sara off the floor by her hair. Sara screams in agony as she is yanked to her feet and drug down the aisle. “We have two orders of business.” The Sin Preacher says walking ahead oblivious to the throng of dead on either side of her. Climbing up the small stage coming to rest behind her podium again. “First ….” She motions into the crowd. The Frankenstein like soldier plods up to join her. “Ma’am yes ma’am.” He calls out falling in a to a parade rest even with his missing limb. “Sargent Glass has been kind enough to supply us with a little information about our current situation and how we may better it.” Ben and Sara are dropped to their knees almost literally face to face with Jamal. The Sin Preacher looks to the soldier only to see rage building in his decaying face. “Sargent is there a problem?” She turns to the big zombie. “Yes Ma’am this coward left me to die!” Sargent Glass advances pointing down at Private Lockett. Sara reels back “Staff Sargent?!” She utters in disbelief. “Do tell Sargent?” The Sin Preacher says a look of concern etched upon her face. The angry zombie closes the distance hopping of the stage in two great strides. “Yeah it’s me you cowardly whore.” He says slapping Sara across the cheek so hard she rolls over into crowd of zombies. “You and your unit hauled ass out of there without looking back.” He shouts standing over as Hobart giggles jumping around like an evil sidekick. “You left us to die we were slaughtered.” He unsheathed a sinister looking combat knife with his remaining hand. “Now Sargent I can see you were wronged ….” The Sin Preacher speaks up. “But let’s not forget that vengeance is mine. I say you will have you vengeance my child but not here not now.” She says dismissively. Sargent Glass looks back at here then down again at Sara as if he was torn by his choices. “You were delivered to us last night for a reason Sargent Come now Sargent tell us of this Operation Bullfrog.” The tension in the zombie’s muscles relax he snaps his combat blade back into its sheath. “Operation Bullfrog …. “ He calls out to the undead gathered around him. “It is a protocol the United States Government put into place during the Cold War.” He joins Miriam on the stage once more. “Operation Bullfrog has gone through many upgrades in the past fifty years. Its primary goal is to ensure that the U.S. Government could communicate in the event of a nuclear attack or any other event that would cause a total communication blackout.” Murmurs from the zombies begin to fill the room. The Sin Preacher raises her hands and they all fall silent at once. “The Bullfrog is a massive all terrain self-sustained mobile combat platform that has a sophisticated satellite array atop of it. Imagine a train comprised of tank like vehicles on steroids that don’t need a tracks. Now there are five Bullfrog units strategically placed across the country. Each one is designed to allow communications to leapfrog from across the country to coordinate any remaining assets in play. There is one not far from us and it was to serve as our forward base of operation from our post at St. George.” The Sin Preacher reaches up placing a hand on the dead man’s shoulder interrupting him. “Now my children the fun part. Each of these vehicles also acts as a pseudo ark of sorts. It ferries any survivors back to its base or burrow as the Sargent told me. These fortified bunkers can hold up to two thousand souls. We will commandeer this behemoth and ride it back down into its burrow delivering my vengeance …..“ “What does that have to do with us we don’t need shelter?” A woman missing most of her scalp call out. “Can you imagine any reason why the Government would want to coordinate its assets?” Glass responds “If they get their shit together it is us … our kind …. “ He pounds his broad chest “…..That they would seek to exterminate. We cannot allow this my brothers and sisters.” He says to the snarls and shouts of the zombies listening to him. “I will not allow this transgression against my people.” The Sin Preacher shouts raising up her hands. “We will take their sword and turn it on them. We will ride the beast down into its lair and bring my word unto the living masses. We will use our weapon to strike down each of its kin for none shall stop the Great Tribulation.” The Sin Preacher brings her voice down several octaves. She slaps the side of the podium with an open palm. “My children take solace for those who turn a deaf ear to me and the salvation I offer. Well they will most assuredly fill your bellies.” The decaying horde of zombies milling about raise their hands skyward falling to their knees.

 

  The Sin Preacher looks out over the sea of hands watching as her new congregation pledge their devotion to her. The members of First New Faith Baptist church huddled below her in fear “were never this zealous.” She muses as her heart soars filled with a joy so fulfilling Miriam knows this is why she became a preacher. Well she actually became a preacher to piss off those who said she couldn’t mostly but this was a close second. “Now my children it is time it is time for you to take sacrament before you head out to minister my Gospel.” She steps around the podium making her way down to the last tiny stair. She positions herself directly behind Jamal. From here she can visibly see the young man trembling with dread. More importantly she could see Benjamin and Sara’s faces as they looked upon their friend. “Brother Lawson and Brother Hobart please ensure our guest of honor have a clear view of the sacrament.” Hobart wastes no time driving a knee into Sara’s back. The girl reels pitching forward as he throws his full weight on her back. He reaches down grabbing a hand full of her hair yanking her head. Sara cries out her eyes tearing from the pain. She can see the tears she has shed are nothing compared to the cascading stream of tears coating both Jamal’s cheeks. “Well ole Hoss …. “ Ian Lawson squats down next to Ben. “I aint gonna be all over eager like my friend here.” He cocks his head in Hobart’s general direction. “But know this my brother …. “ He comes in close and whispers in Ben’s ear. “If you so much as flinch or turn away at any point. I won’t keep my word my deep dark brother and when I get y’all out away from here. The things I’ll do to you will make you wish you were this camel jockey here.” Ben wretches feeling bile travel up from his stomach. “You understand me boy?” Ian Lawson asks. Ben can only nod his head as he begins to weep uncontrollably. He prays that the salty tears will obscure his vision.

 

 The Sin Preacher steps down placing a hand on Jamal’s sweaty back. He is shivering so hard she feels as if she has her hand place on a large speaker. She closes her eyes throwing her head back raising her other hand in prayer. The living dead congregation do the same as well. “We take this living sacrament as a show our faith. A bond that shall not be broken as we seek to seize control this new world from the nonbelievers whose mere presence is an abomination before my God almighty. We spill this heathen’s blood as they did in the Old Testament oh Lord that you may see our willingness to slay your enemies.” The room goes quite the only sound is Miriam’s disembodied voice oozing from the PA system over head. “Amen …..” She says opening her eyes after a long pause. “Flesh of my Flesh …. “ She pronounces dipping her head down. She allows her hair to fall over and cover her face tightening her grip on Jamal’s shoulder. By the time Ben’s mind can process the image lain bare before him. The Sin Preacher has her mouth buried in the side of Jamal’s neck. He shakes trying to throw the woman off but to no avail. The Sin Preacher pulls away with a wad of flesh in her mouth. Jamal’s blood spurts out in thick rivulets covering Ben and Sara both. The Sin Preacher staggers backward vigorously masticating the meat in her mouth. She swallows hard her face a mask of pleasure as she wipes her chin dropping more blood on her once white robe. She comes to rest on the stairs of the stage panting like a satisfied whore. “Partake my children ….” With that the dam of savagery burst. The zombies tear at Jamal’s chained body in a frenzy of such ferocity it would make a great white shark jealous. Ben watches in horror as Jamal closes his eyes one last time. The young man vanishes under a pile of screeching zombies. They beset Jamal with teeth, hands and a ravenous sinister hunger. Ben watches the mass of bodies writhing on the floor. A rush of blood seeps from under the snarling zombies. The chewing starts causing Ben to vomit over the crowd of feasting ghouls. They begin to rip Jamal to pieces the whole macabre looks like a group of zombies wrestling in a pool of human viscera. Ben wants to recoil to look away in horror but he doesn’t. Not even when Jamal’s still warm blood washes over his knees flowing at like a small red tidal wave. He catches a glance at Sara as she is bathed in the same flow except she is laying flat on the floor. A female corpse falls inches from Ben she clutches a slab of raw meat hissing like badger. Suddenly Sargent Glass looms over the fallen zombie. He smashes a large black boot into the middle of her face the way one stomps out a cigarette butt. He twists his massive foot mashing down until the dead woman’s head resembles a pulped watermelon. He callously reaches down pulling the prized meat from her still twitching hands. The big dead soldier walks away chewing without looking back. “Brothers take our honored guest and cast them out of my congregation.” “Yes Ma’am …..“ Lawson hoots. “Remember let no harm come to them by your hands my brothers. For God had decreed that they be cast into the wilderness and left to their own devices like Lot.” Ben and Sara are drug from the rear door of the church into the humid night air. Overhead the dark black sky is awash with orange ribbons of light. In the distant thunder rumbles across the back hills of the farm country. Lightening flickers briefly illuminating heavy black rainclouds. Hobart and Lawson take a few seconds to stare in wonder at the orange lights before dragging their captives away in to the night. They make a pit stop at the carport behind the church before setting off into the night.

 

 

 

  Looks like things have come to a fairly disturbing head within the walls of The First New Faith Baptist Church. The Sin Preacher has shown where her loyalties are. Other than Ben and Sara no one under her roof has any idea of the depths of her depravity. As for Ben and Sara they find themselves at the mercy of two psychotic zombies. What will happen next in The Living Dark Comeback the week of November 17th and find out.

 

 

 

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Chapter 39: A Books Woth of Revelations

Chapter 39: A Books Worth of Revelations

 

   Ben senses the indignation in him blistering his gut. He clutches the arms of the wooden chair that hold his husky frame. He is ready to leap from his seated position and fall upon manipulative twofaced Sin Preacher. How would he explain to his wife and children that he’d beaten a woman senseless? Right now Ben didn’t give a shit they’d forgive him. “Lady …” Ben thrusts up from the chair his arms quaking. “You’re a fucking nut and I’m …” He hears the hammer cock before he sees the silver revolver in Miriam’s hand. “You’re going to do what Mr. James?” She scoffs flipping her frizzy hair back. “You know what you’re going to do Benjamin?” She asks a sneer drawing across her lips. “You will relent to my demands ….. You will agree to give me the heathen and the fatherless child.” She moves around the corner of the desk. “If you don’t agree to my terms your family will be cast down into the pit. Where they will used as fodder to feed the Unclean and keep the rest of us alive.” Ben swallows hard locking his eyes on the Sin Preacher. He falls back limp into the aging wooden chair which groans in protest. His mind races he attempts to suppress the images of his family’s demise. The idea of his children being devoured by zombies brings a glob of vomit to the back of his throat. “You and that mouthy soldier girl Sara will have to be put down as well.” She keeps just out of reach of the big man. Miriam’s hand clutching the pistol doesn’t waiver. Ben watches the barrel leveled at his head but it is the least of his concern. “I will ask you again Mr. James.” The Sin Preacher speaks through gritted teeth. She was not the same person who picked them up in that field what seems like a lifetime ago. “Will you give me the two members of your party I demand as repayment or will you condemn them all?”

 

   “Why?!”  Ben croaks. “You never told us there was such a price to pay for your assistance.” He slams a fist down onto her desk but she doesn’t flinch. “Why help us at all? Huh Miriam it appears you had this in mind all along.” The meek woman with the gun shakes her head “No” vigorously. “Look you were in no position to refuse me Benjamin.” The Sin Preacher jabs the pistol in his direction. “My God commands that I help those who cannot help themselves. I wanted you and your people to be a part of what we have here.” She rubs her free hand across her mouth wiping away froth from the corners of her lips. “I simply can’t have that Son of Lot you brought with you in my house of God.” It was Ben’s turn to chuckle. “My wife was right.” He shakes his head giggling softly to himself. “Your ‘House of God” isn’t that an oxymoron?” “Careful Mr. James choose your words very carefully.” The Sin Preacher chides the man before her. “You pretend to speak for God yet you don’t know the true meaning of his words. You don’t know what grace and mercy are. You simply take a gaggle of slack jawed yokels and play on their fears and ignorance.” Ben wonders to himself if she possesses the moxy to do her own dirty work. “What will you do with Jamal and Cammy?” Ben probes sizing the woman up watching her body language. He knows full well he doesn’t want to know what her plans are. “What do you mean when you say ‘fodder’ Miriam?” Miriam breaks eye contact with Ben like a mortified child. She composes herself before speaking. “Your son and companion have already found out by now what I am about to share with you. As they have accompanied Brother Gustavo out on his rounds this morning.” When her eyes find Ben’s again they are as empty as the zombie’s they’ve been fighting the last few days. “I have found a way to distract the ravenous highly intelligent Unclean that hunt during the night. I have Brother Gustavo hang pieces of human meat in various places around the church. This keeps the Unclean preoccupied and fed at night. This way they don’t go roving about thus reducing the risk of them discovering us hidden in here. “You crazy bitch …” Ben blurts beside himself. “You let me send my boy out with that lunatic to feed zombies?!” He screams standing to his feet. “Yes I did Mr. James.” She says coldly. “By the way how did you sleep last night? Were your wife, your kids and your friends safe?” Ben is disgusted at the thought of having paid for his people’s safety with the life of another. “As you can imagine Mr. James this process has a high price and not everyone is willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good.” She smiles. “But in this Post Rapture Apocalyptic world Mr. James. There are a few souls who are brave enough. The others … well …” She rolls her eyes. “Well let’s just say that everyone you met in that room across the hall had to offer up a sacrifice to stay here.” Ben’s consciousness darkens at the corners he feels light headed as he fights not to faint. “I will sacrifice that heathen and the baby as well Mr. James if you must know.” The Sin Preacher sighs deeply then fills her lungs with a breath of fresh air. “Either you give me the penance you owe. Then leave here never to return or you and Sara will suffer their fate as well. I’m sure the Olmstead boy will take you all in again or so you can hope.” The Sin Preacher grasp the handle of the revolver with both hands. She steadies her aim taking a shooter’s stance. “Now stop stalling and answer the fucking question.” She shouts shivering with self-righteous outrage. Ben’s lips quiver as he starts to speak. “I ….. I can’t …. I won’t.” As he whispers a single tear pools up in his right eye spilling slowly down his cheek. “In this new world Mr. James cowardice is lethal.” The Sin Preacher and Benjamin stare one another down. “I knew you lacked the conviction to make the right choice Ben.” She shakes her head as she speaks. “Colonel …” She yells out never taking her eyes or the gun barrel off Ben. The door burst open the big brute known as Colonel leads the way. He is dragging Private Lockett roughly into the room. Ben stands to his feet without hesitation turning to face Colonel. “Now Mr. James I assure you that remaining calm is in your best interest. He gazes back over his shoulder eyes dripping hatred but he doesn’t move. Sara fights in protest the whole way but the man is almost three times her size and her hands are zip tied behind her back. He flings her to the dusty floor all the while smiling in Ben’s general direction. Sara looks up from the floor in her brown eyes is a look of sorrow. Ben had never seen her so humbled and unsure of herself. The swelling under her right eye spoke volumes she didn’t have to say a word. “Morning Mr. James.” Colonel winks from across the room pointing a large pistol down at Lockett’s face. Behind them BC and Jim Hosstrum drag Jamal into the room and pin him down like police officers. Following everyone Silas Proctor waddles in clutching a screaming baby Cammy to his doughy chest. He looked to be having more trouble with his load than anyone else. Ben reels from a blow to the back of his head. He wobbles a bit before falling to his knees. The Sin Preacher steps up close to finish beating Ben into submission. Miriam does this with an arching blow to the base of his skull with the butt of the revolver. A man who had been gathered around the church members in the basement earlier reaches in a closes the door to the Preacher’s office. Ben fades quickly into unconsciousness.

 

 

   Several hours later their task for the day complete Brother Gustavo leads the two young men back into the basement of First New Faith Baptist church. He trots down the steps with purpose. His mind awash in confusion as he questions everything he thought he knew. “The Bible is all I have…” He thinks to himself raking his gangly fingers through the dense mop of black hair atop his head. Chip was behind him having popped a wheelie at the top of the short flight of stairs. He used his well-toned arms to navigate the creaky wooden stairs one at a time with the large rear wheels of his chair. “Chip you know I’ll help you bro seriously.” Private Carson says bringing up the rear guard closing the door behind himself. “No thanks man unlike hopping into the rear of a monster truck …. “ Chip huffs I’ve done this a time or two before.” Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs and rounding the corner they are greeted by a blockade of men. “Brother Gustavo and guests …” A man sporting a tattered green and yellow John Deere baseball cap speaks up. “The Sin Preacher wants to see y’all in her office immediately.” He annunciates through a thick country accent. Brother Gustavo doesn’t break stride turning right into the open doorway. Chip rolls in right after him as well. The sound of a scuffle breaks out “hey what the hell?” Chip shouts spinning around he watches the men spring on Private Carson. He prods his chair towards the group drawing his “Lucky Mallet” the pistol in his pocket long since forgotten in the panic. The young soldier is quickly disarmed by the quartet of farmers. That doesn’t stop the assault they pummel Carson into submission with fist and feet. Chip draws back his mallet ready to strike rolling freely in direction of the scuffle. His momentum is suddenly halted from the rear. He feels himself being whirled around then dumped from his wheelchair to the floor. Chip tumbles to rest on the musty old green carpet. Tossing his hair from over his face he looks up in time to see Silas Proctor throw his wheelchair aside. Most of the church men present chuckle out loud at the handicapped boy on the floor. “Pastor …. Pastor.” Gustavo beckons to his spiritual leader. “I have some questions Pastor.” He continues oblivious to the scene in the room. He has tunnel vision as he walks towards Miriam who is now holding baby Dakota. “Not now Brother Gustavo we have other matters to attend to.” She holds up her hand with the pistol while bouncing the baby girl on her hip. “But Pastor this cannot wait please I must …” “Silence Brother.” She interrupts stomping her foot in anger. “I said we have church business to attend to that is of a pressing nature.” Gustavo reels back on instinct upon witnessing Miriam’s emotional upheaval. He feels a spiritual shift in his perception of The Sin Preacher. In much the same way a child views a trusted adult who has abused them.

 

   Chip scans the floor finding his hammer a few inches in front of where he had come to rest. His eyes fall upon large heap laying in front of a shabby desk. “Dad?” He ask raising up on his hands in a panic. “Dad!” Chip screams pulling his body over to his father his mostly lame legs trail him like a lizard’s tail. Silas steps in blocking his path looming over the boy who can only crawl. “Not so funny now are you boy?” Silas looks down grinning his yellow teeth looking like old fence slats. “Where’s all ya jokes now that I gotcha crawlin’ round the floor cripple?” He places a booted foot down painfully on Chip’s hand. Causing the boy to cry out and roll over onto his back. Chip watches as a bloodied but defiant Private Carson is lifted to his feet by the men. His hands are tied behind his back with a thick length of tightly braided rope. They prop Carson against the wall two of the men lean into his back jamming him in place. The movement in the corner of his eye startles Chip. On his left Sara sits Indian style her face swollen on one side. The man they all called “Colonel” has a watchful eye on her. To his right he observes Jamal his face streaked with tears and blood. Jamal’s face is a pitiful portrait blood flows from his spilt bottom lip. His left eye is only a slit having swollen most of the way shut. “Hey up here boy.” Silas taps his toe against Chip’s shoulder. “Not so high and mighty now without all ya back up. Well looks like ‘Captain Chubby’ got the last laugh.” Silas looks back at The Sin Preacher hoping she won’t cut his fun short. “Tell me boy how does it feel to have to crawl ‘round like some kinda animal on the floor?” He throws his head back laughing so hard his portly body shakes with glee. “You tell me …” Chip mutters in a flash he grabs the mallet from floor. He strikes so fast Silas is wailing before he knows his kneecap has been dislocated by a vicious blow from the hammer. The room is still as Silas topples down on his damaged knee bringing fresh howls of agony. Baby Cammy takes this time to start crying as babies do when someone around them cries. Having reduced to blabbering idiot to his level Chip doesn’t hesitate. His next blow drives the rubber mallets head into Silas Proctors jaw. Amid the blood spray half a dozen of the man’s teeth clatter to the floor like dice. Proctor falls to the floor senseless mere feet from Ben. Chip watches a man blot from his right not waiting he pivots on his hands. Chip brings the hammer down on the man’s foot before he can react to the pain in his foot. Chip punches out with his empty hand connecting with the man’s testicles. “For Christ sake.” Colonel yelps in frustration jamming his pistol into his waistband. “He a got damn feeble!” The Colonel moves in to bring Chip’s irritating rebellion to an end. He pays no mind to Private Lockett. That is until he feels the savage kick to his exposed kidney from the steel toed boot. Sara rocks the man with a second kick to the back before leaping into the air driving her knees down hard as she lands on the old soldier. Carson aware of his captor’s distraction uses one of his muscular legs to push off against the wall. He drives the two smaller men backwards with his shoulder smashing them into a wall. They all hit the wall unleashing a shower of glass from a full length mirror. “Enough!” The Sin Preacher announces. The room falls silent at once as she walks into the center of the fray. She holds the chrome pistol menacingly close to the infant’s temple. “Cease this non sense this instant.” She demands. “With God as my witness if either of you three move I will start with this child and finish with Mr. James on the floor over there.” She looks around the room at her battered and bewildered forces. “You men of First New Faith I thought you could handle such a simple task. They are but children secure them this instant.” The men scurry about with their heads hung low. “Colonel remain here with me.” She uses the gun to control the flow of traffic like a symphony director. “You all take the infirmed boy, his wheelchair and the big one back there.” The Sin Preacher points in Carson’s general direction. “Cast them down in the pit with the unworthy and the rest of their companions.” The men set about doing as they were instructed. “What of Brother Proctor Madam Sin Preacher?” The remaining man guarding Jamal asks. “Drag him out of my office and have the women tend to him.” She rolls her eyes as if talking to the man is causing her physical pain. “Brother Gustavo assist Brother Green in hauling Brother Proctor away.” She fixes him with a hard stare. Brother Gustavo relents moving over slowly taking the obese man by his ankles. He treats the still living Silas no different than one of the corpses he handles. He drags the man away moaning softly while spitting up wads of mucus infused blood. As the bit characters exit the room they close the door. The Sin Preacher and Colonel are left with their chosen prisoners from the James clan.

 

  

     The Sin Preacher looks down at Benjamin James as he lays lifeless on the floor. She steps over his body cradling baby Cammy. Walking over to Jamal who lays bound and beaten on the floor. He slinks back further into the shadows like a scalded dog. “Oh don’t you worry heathen you can’t hide from your evil ways.” She spits on the young man huddled in the corner. “What will we do with them Sin Preacher?” Colonel asks from the other side of the room. Where he stands with his damaged left hand pressed against his side wincing in pain. Miriam comes about facing the man as he kneels down using his free hand to restrain Lockett on the floor. “We ….” The Sin Preacher ask comically. “We … you damn near couldn’t handle two Privates and a lame teenage boy.” She snaps “Colonel” making sure to emphasize the self-generated pseudonym. Anger flows over Colonel’s handsome face. “But Preacher if I had more disciplined men I …” Miriam raises her hand silencing the man. “Look I’m not putting this up for debate and you have to be accountable for you own actions in the eyes of the Lord.” Colonel hangs his head bearing the weight and shame of failing his leader. “The Congregation will decide their fate Colonel not you not I.” The Sin Preacher strolls slowly over to her cot tickling baby Cammy’s Chin. The baby coos back at the demented woman as she placed down into a hastily made nest of blankets. “Hey … bitch.” Sara wheezes from under Colonel’s weight. “Yes Private.” The Sin Preacher replies pressing her thin glasses back up over her nose. “We aren’t done here.” Sara explains squirming on about the floor attempting look the Sin Preacher in the face. Miriam stands over Private Sara Lockett glaring down at her. “Child you have no idea how far away from done I am.” She sets her pistol down on her desk before turning to sit on its chipped edge. “Colonel perhaps you could gag all of our friends here and maybe just maybe start rebuilding you value to the congregation. God can clearly see your shame as can I and he is displeased brother.” Colonel resolves himself to being a better servant. He quivers anger boiling up in him like a pot on a stove. “Yes Sin Preacher.” He growls coming to his feet hefting Sara up off the floor her hands bound behind her back. Colonel tosses her as if she’s no more than a wet sandbag. Sara lands next to Ben with a “thud” knocking the breath from her lungs.

 

    First off an apology for the delay in posting the new chapter. Real life has a way of complicating the fun we have navigating our favorite survivors through the zombie apocalypse from time to time.

 

 

Now moving on we are back in the First New Faith Baptist Church and we thought that Brother Gustavo's behaviors were odd. We and the James clan have found out how truly insidious The Sin Preacher's motives are. Ben has refused to give up Baby Cammy  Jamal and it now appears he's sealed his fate and Private Lockett's as well.

 

 

     We'll see you all back here for an explosive Chapter 40 the week of September 22nd.

 

 

As usual follow us on our official Twitter @TheLivingDark and now a few of our favorites as well @ZedDeadAnchor and @ZomApocWishList please and thank you.

 

 

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The Living Dark 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 38: Unfamiliar Territory

Chapter 38: Unfamiliar Territory

 

     Private Carson walks gingerly through the lush green grass. He watches Chip prod his wheelchair onward hot on the heels of the man everyone called “Brother Gustavo.” Carson’s heart told him to offer to push the boy in his wheelchair. His mind however vigorously objected even though he thought Chip’s arms had to feel like rubber bands by now. Private Carson had just witnessed Chip power his chair up a short flight of stairs backwards refusing any and all offers of assistance. Brother Gustavo slows down then stops turning to face the duo. “I want to thank you for agreeing to help me with this arduous task.” Carson scans the area after all he has seen over the last few days he does not like being out in the open. He feels like a gazelle sticking its tongue out at an unseen lion hiding amongst the tall African grass. Brother Gustavo runs his bony fingers through his mane of black hair. “When I see young men like you I am overjoyed. For the world is yours you are both bold and dutiful.” Now Gustavo takes his time basking in the late summer sun without a care in the world. “You have forsaken self for the protection of you village, your family to paraphrase.” Chip finds himself stopped in the grass next to Carson. Brother Gustavo comes back to them kneeling before Chip. The odd man addresses the young men before him. He shifts his eye contact like a coach in a huddle. “The glory of young men is in their strength: and the beauty of old men is the grey head. As found in Proverbs chapter twenty verse twenty nine. Those fools in there are self-righteous, self-serving hypocrites grey heads or not.” He chuckles standing up moving for the shed once more. Chip hesitates unsure if the man is delusional or if he is truly that capable of looking past his disability. “You handle yourself and your wheelchair very well young man.” Brother Gustavo says without turning back to face the young men who volunteered for duty with him. He is oblivious to his tactless words but Chip seems to pay them no mind anyway. Only Private Carson is left in an awkward stupor wanting to change the subject. “Well you know …” Chip huffs as they near the shed housing the gigantic metallic beast. “I have to make up for my legs somehow. I have fallen enough times to know that every time you fall there won’t be someone there willing to pick you up.” Brother Gustavo pauses as he unlocks the barn door. “I like that young Benjamin Junior.” He continues pulling the door opens for them to pass through. “Like the Bible says ‘God helps those who help themselves.’” He disappears into the darkened recesses alongside the monstrous ice cream truck. “Hey Army guy close the door.” Gustavo calls out from the front of the cramped shed. Chip spins his wheelchair around popping a wheelie. He backs over the door’s track crossing the unlit shed’s threshold. Carson does as instructed while Chip waits staring up at the rear of the huge truck. No sooner than the door closes to the shed than the hastily strung light bulbs flicker to life.

 

   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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The Living Dark