...continued from page 25
"Nope," Hank replies, his dark eyes holding gaze with Monks. After a moment, he looks back to his plate, tearing a roll in half.
"Well..there ARE the deamons..."
"WOMAN," Hank roars, slamming his fists down on the table and glaring at a horrified Edna,"I told you yer mouth needs not talk about them abombinations here, by GOD'S GRACE!" He stares at the astonished group, crumbs of the ruined roll flying across the table as he points a finger in turn at each one of them.
"The Devil walks this tired Earth," Hank fumes, eyes fixing on Doc, "His servants spread from the mouths of servants," at Strongbow, "their SINS evident on their slack jaws and foul stench," glaring at Monk.
Monk works his right hand slowly across his lap, towards the machete on his hip. It stops as Strongbows hand stops over his and squeezes a 'no'. Across the table, Doc looks at the farmer with interest.
"Ahem," pushing his glasses up, "So, these deamons, as you call them, have they been arriving?"
"We were told by Reverend Eakes," Edna signs the cross, "that the Final Days was upon us. A plague of evil
was to be visiting us." She looks nervously at Hank, who is hunched over his plate. After a pause, she goes on.
"We were told that those who sinned would be possessed by the deamons of the Satan, by Gods Grace, and to hunker down...wait for the Rapture." Edna smiles at the thought.
"We were also told that...well..OUTSIDERS would bring them." She looks at them, then drops her eyes.
"Outsiders...," Hank mumbles, "like that other man.." He looks up, staring at them accusingly.
Strongbow stares at the man. "You can't possibly think that we have ANYTHING to do with this...we're running away from...."
Hank holds up a hand, silencing her. He slowly raises to his feet, hand still raised, the other now clutching a silver cross around his neck. Next to him, Edna begins to pray to herself.
"What you are.." he looks around the room, "..are the forebringers of our doom." He breathes heavily, then knocks on the table loudly.
Four men burst through the front door, toting rifles. Monk jumps up, machete out as Strongbow, still sitting, pulls her pistol, leveling it at Hank. Dishes clatter to the ground. Doc cries out nervously.
"I'd say we have ya fair outnumbered, all o' ya." Hank smiles, reaching for his rifle and pointing it at Monk.
Not taking her eyes away from Hank, Strongbow calls over her shoulder, "Should we?"
A pause, then she hears the clang of Monks machete dropping on the table behind her. "Rot the luck!" she mutters, lowering her Baretta.
Hank chuckles. "SATAN," he calls out loudly, "ye'll not have us THIS night!" Reaching over the table, he grabs the pistol out of Strongbows hand and jams it into his belt. Still steadying his rifle at Monk, he calls behind him. "Move these devils to the courthouse." He sneers at them as they are being gathered, "We'll try them proper, by GODS GRACE."
The men move forward, ushering the three outside, where they are joined by several other solomn townspeople, various weapons pointed, some praying with bibles clutched.
Hank steps out behind the group and holds up both hands, addressing the group.
"Good people of Godswell," he begins, "again, the Lord has delivered unto us the messengers of the Dark One." Gasps and angry crys as Hank quiets the group. "As the mouthpiece for Reverand Eakes, I tell yall that ye have nuthin to fear. They're goin to the courthouse to await Gods Judgement."
"What about the Reverend?" A man cries out. "He cain't be fasting still?..Its been nearly three weeks!"
"You questionin the good preacher, Max?" Hank steps menacingly down the steps toward the man in dirty coveralls.
Hank pushes against Max, till the two are nearly touching noses. "You bein SWAYED, Max?" Hank asks softly.
Hank looks beyond Hanks looming face, at the tired, suspicious faces around him. He swallows hard and backs up a step, looking down.
Hank looks a second more, daring. Getting no response, he looks around at the now still crowd. "Reverend Eakes is praying for us all....he's keepin the deamons from our children." He reaches in his shirt, pulling the silver cross. "I have checked on 'im personally. He's tired, but wants everyone to know.." Hank sweeps his arm around the group, cross gleaming in the torchlight, "..that his prayers will guide the good Lord to our humble town." He drops his arms. "Go to yer homes, good people. We'll decide the fate o' the devils tomorrow mornin, by Gods Grace."
A mumble of 'amens' and 'God bless ye' eminate from the crowd as it disperses.
Hank watches the people leave, a smile tracing his lips.
"In there, ya devils!" Strongbow is shoved to the floor of the small room, Monk and Doc both landing equally as hard on the concrete. A rusty door swings shut, a rattle of keys.
Strongbow sighs, picking herself up and dusting off her fatigues. She looks around. 'Damm,' she thinks. The room is dark, small and bare. Scrawl from former occupants can barely be made out on the rough brick walls. Dirty, sparse hay litters the ground. She turns to Monk, also looking about.
"Bloody hell, Monk...why couldn't you take them out?" She gestures beyond the bars. "They didn't stand a chance...
Monk looks at her, silencing with his eyes. "It was not the right time," he replies. Looks at her carefully. "Could you kill a bunch of scared farmers?" Strongbow sighs.
"Ok, ok...not really.." she makes a fist, jamming it into her other hand, "But that Hank bloke..."
"I agree," Doc interjects, as Monk walks over to the cell door. "He seems to be the ringleader of this town." He pushes his glasses up. "Well, him and this Reverend fellow."
Dejected, Strongbow glances at the wall. Newer scrawl is barely visible. "Godswell tainted. Zombies in basement of courthouse. Heading to Smithtown if able. Radio station. Will contact others. Godspeed. Al Briggs, 10 July 2012."
"Monk, read this!" She points at the writing. Monk steps over, reads, then looks up at Strongbow.
"Heh," he says, "so that poor soul you dropped in the radio station was from Godswill?" He scratches his head. "Small world, no?"
Strongbow shakes her head. "No..I mean yes..I mean.." she points again at the wall. "They have ZOMBIES in the basement of this building!"
"Zombies?!" Doc crosses over, squinting at the writing. "Oh my..this is NOT good." He looks at the other two. "They are more than likely hoarding turned family members and anyone else who wanders in. By 'they', I mean..."
"The Good Reverand and his alterboy, Hank." Strongbow finishes. Doc nods. "Everyone thinks that the town is 'safe,' he concludes sourly.
"Sad." Monk looks out between the bars again. He pulls on the door fruitlessly. "Well, WE'RE not going anywhere." He slides his back down the wall, sitting on the hay strewn floor.
"So...what do we do?" Strongbow asks, suddenly afraid.
Monk looks at her, then pushes his knees up as he sits against the wall, his arms cradling his head.
"We sleep."
Strongbow is running down a hallway. Doors line the hall, but are locked. She hears moaning, footsteps dragging faintly behind her, getting closer. She reaches the end of the hall, a single door backlit in front of her. She trys the knob, but it too, is locked. She whirls around, facing the oncoming crowd of grisly undead. She closes her eyes, waiting for the bites, when she feels the crowd stop in front of her. She peeks her eyes open. Less than a meter away, the rotting corpse of Scrubs grins lopsidedly at her. Black ichor oozes from numerous wounds, his eyeless sockets bearing close to her face. His mouth moves, fetid breath wafting on her. "..Arrrooowwhheeaad Prroojjeecctt..." She watches a bloated fly crawl out of Scrubs decaying nose, and screams, as.....
...Monks hand drops over her mouth. Strongbow, eyes wild, jerks up, sitting on the floor. She looks at him terrified, eyes questioning. He shakes his head, then slowly releases his hand from over her mouth.
She gasps. Whispers, "What the..." Monk puts a finger to his lips, his eyes directing at the cell door.
Outside the cell, footsteps move quietly closer. Monk shakes Doc, wrapped in his dingy white coat. He blinks, starts, looking around. Monk motions silence.
A shadow looms in front of the cell. A rattle of keys and the door squeaks open. Monk springs up, grabbing the shadow who lets out an "oh!" as he swings the figure against the wall of the cell, his forearm pressing against its neck.
Strongbow and Doc move around the figure, who is gasping for air, for a better look. Edna, red-faced, cheeks puffing mightily, stares wide-eyed back at the group.
"Monk," Strongbow whispers, "let her go, mate." Monk stares for a moment longer, then releases his hold on her fat neck. She whoofs out, sagging to the floor.
Kneeling, Strongbow faces her, as Monk moves outside the cell, determining the groups position. Doc pushes his glasses on his nose and stands at the door.
"Edna, are you alright, luv?" she asks gently. Edna nods, reaching into her dressfolds to reveal Strongbows gunbelt and Monks machete. She hands them over, tears in her eyes.
"This town," Edna says, pressing the weapons into Strongbows hands, "is tainted. My husband...I don't know him anymore." She weeps quietly. "Reverend Eakes wanted us to beware.." she sniffles, "...he said that sin was comin, that we had to ..take measures." She looks intently at Strongbow, eyes intense, red. "You MUST get out of here!"
Strongbow, continuing to kneel, looks carefully at Edna. "The undead in the basement... you knew.." She shakes her head, dismissing the thought. "Come with us."
Edna smiles sadly. "I thank you, but I cannot." She points a chubby finger outside the cell. "I set them free, you see...the others." A tear rolls down her cheek.
Strongbows eyes widen. She listens as shots fire outside the courthouse. Monk yells out for Strongbow, Doc telling her to hurry. She turns back to Edna, who is still weeping. Edna places the humvee keys in Strongbows cargo pocket and smiles.
"My son, you see...Al..he wanted out. Hank..wouldn't have it..."
Monk appears in the doorway, Doc fidgeting with his rifle found leaning against a bench nearby. "Strongbow, we have to go, NOW. Deadheads..."
"I know, Monk," she replies, tossing the machete to him. He looks suprised for a moment, then looks at Edna on the floor. "Thank you." She nods, with a knowing smile.
Monk pulls the blade out, glancing at Strongbow. "One minute...it sounds ugly outside." He disappears toward the front again.
"Ok." She turns back to Edna. "Will you be ok?"
Edna laughs, pushing Strongbow outside the cell, letting the door slam shut. "I'll be fine, dear. Get to your truck...and Godspeed, all of you!"
Strongbow looks at the shadowy figure retreating into the cell. "Thank you, Mrs. Briggs," she whispers, then turns toward the exit.
Monk and Doc, poised by the exit to the courthouse, watch anxiously as Strongbow jogs to them, strapping her gunbelt around her waist and pulling the pistol free.
"Ready," they nod to eachother and push open the door.
Outside it is carnage. The night has given the town a surreal appearance. Gunshots and muzzleflashes can be seen and heard all over the small town. Bodies lay strewn in the street, sounds of crunching bone and moaning mingling with the weapons fire.
A haggard girl, dress barely hanging on her wasted form, crawls up the short steps to the group. Monk rushes to meet her, his blade shining dully in the light of scattered fires. Her head wetly rolls down the steps as her body slumps forward. Strongbow looks around.
"Can't see a bloody thing!" she cries, firing at a moaning shape moving toward the group. It falls backward, then slowly tries to right itself.
"Follow me!" Doc grabs Strongbows arm, guiding her down the steps to the street as Monk decapitates the zombie where it struggled. Doc shoulders his weapon and pulls out his heat scope. "Better than nothing, no?" he yells above the carnage.
Strongbow yells, "The humvee...can you see it?" She hears Monk grunt and the sound of a wet machete strike nearby.
"Give me a second...just a..AHH." He yells triumphantly. "It's parked near the church...come..come!!"
"I'll cover!" Monk nears the group as they edge quickly toward the dimly lit church.
They reach the small church lot, Monk on one side of Doc, hacking at arms and heads as Strongbow fires on the other side, ghouls dropping with smoking holes to the head and chest.
Monk reaches the hummer and catching the keys tossed by Strongbow, jumps in, gunning the engine.
As Doc climbs into the passenger rear door, Strongbow strides ahead toward the main doors of the church.
"Strongbow!!" Monk cries, as the hummers headlights cast eerie white beams toward the town. "What the HELL are you doing??!!" Doc fires his rifle at an approaching zombie, gunpowder stinging in the air.
"One minute!!" Not waiting for a reply, she pushes open the church doors and heads inside.
Darkness, broken only by candles, illuminate the small chapel. Strongbow quickly walks across the floor toward the office in back. 'I must be crazy,' she thinks, as she approaches the small door marked "Reverend Eakes". 'All of the carnage, the death of this town, is because of you,' she seethes, her Baretta gripped tightly in her hand. She turns the bronze knob, takes a breath and bursts open the door.
The room is dimly lit, a small desk surrounded by a few low-burning candles. A shape sits behind the desk, unmoving.
Strongbow crosses the room, pistol upraised at the figure.
"Reverend Eakes, I am here to exact Gods wra..." She stops, pistol lowered and stares at the Reverend.
He is lying back in his chair, a large hole above his right ear, pistol lying on the floor near his slumped right arm. His skin is dry and dark, eyes gone, mouth open. He'd been dead for at least three weeks. Flys buzzed unseen around the room.
"You COWARD!" Strongbow cries in rage, pistolwhipping the decaying head and leaving a dent. With an enraged yell, she spins and rushes from the room.
The chapel door swings shut as Strongbow runs out. Outside, the humvees car door closes and the sound of tires squealing, speeding away. Inside, silence. The flicker of candles stilling, as the gunfire outside stills as well, replaced by moans and the occasional faraway scream.
A voice, soft and mad breaks the silence within the chapel.
"MY town." Hank chuckles to himself in the darkness, as the slow pounding of many fists begins at the chapel doors.
Sorry it was so late in coming.
I hope you enjoy.
