“Arrogance! Shame! Blasphemy!” cried the crowd.
“Incredible as it may seem, there are those who deny the Lord’s curse. They seek to reverse it. They seek to deny it. They seek to challenge the Lord’s wisdom. As if their judgement is superior! This is an affliction worse than the plague itself. It is a form of blindness. It is pure sin. My children, I must tell you solemnly, that tonight, we have such a sinner in our midst!”
The crowd reacted with shock and dismay. Frenetic murmuring broke out. A chill of dread washed over Lucy.
“Indeed! It is a terrible thing! But it is the truth! The Lord has delivered into our hands an agent of Satan!” declared Troy.
The crowd cried out for punishment, for retribution, for justice. Lucy looked nervously to Shona who, beside her, was punching the air, echoing her peers’ cries for blood. She turned and gave Lucy a beaming smile, then carried on cheering.
“Tonight, we will be the Lord’s witnesses. Tonight, we will see the Lord’s judgement. Tonight, we will do the Lord’s work!” declared Troy, to the crowd’s cheers.
He raised his hand and two robed ushers dragged a prisoner to the center of the stage. The person was dressed in a khaki jumpsuit. Their hands were bound behind their back, and their head covered by a hood. Lucy’s heart froze. The ushers thrust the figure onto their knees, facing the crowd. Troy marched to the side of the prisoner and paused, with his hand hovering above the prisoner’s head. In an instant, he snatched the hood off.
The crowd rose to their feet and erupted with jeers of hate and condemnation. Lucy stared in horror, as Troy circled the doctor. Charlie stared at the crowd in disbelief and fear, and shook her head imploringly as they taunted her with cries of “Sinner!”
Troy clapped his hands and the crowd fell silent, retaking their seats.
“My brothers and sisters, our Lord is just. Our Lord is wise. But is our Lord not also merciful?” said Troy.
Murmurs of consent among the crowd.
“Is our Lord not also love?”
A few cries of “Amen” answered the call.
“If we are to rebuild our world with humility, and the love of the Lord in our hearts, we must be prepared to forgive. As many of you in this very room have been forgiven, so too must you be willing to forgive others. But ultimately, forgiveness is the Lord’s to give. And to be forgiven, you must first ask the Lord to forgive you. So here we are, my children. I give you this sinner, before the Lord. I pray that she repents. I pray that she searches her heart for truth. I pray that she begs the Lord, here and now, for forgiveness,” declared Troy.
All eyes fell upon the doctor, whose eyes were filled with tears.
“Speak, child, for the Lord is listening,” urged Troy.
“I’m begging everyone in this room to remember who they were before this happened. Think of what you knew! Think of what you had! Technology, medicine, electricity! This insanity is not the way back, remember who you are!” implored Charlie.
The crowd stared at her silently, while Troy circled with slow, careful paces.
“Is that your final word?” he asked.
“How is this happening? I’ve committed no crime, I’m a doctor. Remember those? The people that kept everyone alive? All I’m doing is helping sick people,” pleaded Charlie.
“You are denying the will of the Lord. You are abetting sinners. That makes you a sinner, too,” said Troy.
“I’m the sinner? You killed my partner. He was unarmed! You’re a god damned murderer,” she cried.
The crowd booed and jeered in outrage at this insult to their leader, with some in the front row spitting at Charlie.
“There you have it. Her final word. No humility, no repentance, instead she accuses the Lord’s servants. This sinner has refused forgiveness. Justice must be delivered!” cried Troy.
The crowd cheered eagerly as the ushers dragged Charlie from the room. The fire exit doors were opened, and the congregation poured outside into McKinley square, where guards stood with large, burning torches.
The night was clear, and the moon was almost full. The ushers wrestled the doctor into the center of the square, then backed away as the congregation encircled her. More robe-wearers circulated through the crowd, wheeling a cart of jagged rocks and bricks.
“Take one,” instructed Shona, eagerly, as she took two herself.
Lucy picked up a small, sharp stone, and held it limply by her side. A sickening feeling rose through her stomach.
“Do we have any new believers?” cried Troy, as he entered the center of the circle.
“Here!” cried Shona, taking Lucy by the hand and pulling her to the front. A few others also made their way forwards, including a parent, dragging her young daughter. The girl looked too young to even start school. The newcomers looked nervously at one another. A few stared at the doctor with grim determination.
Charlie spotted Lucy and the pair locked eyes. Lucy swayed, her hand trembling. She glanced around the courtyard, searching for a way to intervene, looking for a gun to grab – something, anything. The doctor gave her a micro-shake of the head and stared at the ground, then closed her eyes. Troy stepped back from the condemned woman and addressed the crowd with fervor.
“Tonight, you are all instruments of the Lord. You are agents of Her justice! Do you feel Her spirit working through you?” he bellowed.
“We do!” cried the crowd.
“Do you feel her power working through you?” demanded Troy.
“We do!” cried the crowd, louder still, including many of the newcomers in the front row.
“Are you prepared to deliver the Lord’s our savior’s justice?” cried Troy.
“We are!” proclaimed the crowd. The child, buoyed by her mother’s encouragement, was also shouting, and looking upon the doctor with hatred.
“Then I say to you, in the name of the Lord, let Her will be done!” declared Troy.
The crowd erupted in cries of anger and condemnation, as they unleashed a barrage of rocks and bricks upon the kneeling doctor. The stones pulverized Charlie’s body, swiftly sending her to the ground. The crowd pressed in further, crushing around Lucy, as they hurled stones directly down upon her, bludgeoning the doctor’s face, splitting open her skull, rupturing her organs.
The worshippers jostled and cheered, all eager to ensure they contributed to the work of the Lord. Lucy dropped her stone and ran from the crowd. She staggered to a bench in the square and vomited heavily, before collapsing, weeping.
After less than a minute, the commotion was over, and the crowd cheered in celebration. Shona appeared by the bench and knelt beside Lucy. Her voice was tender but energized.
“Hey, you did a good thing, I was scared the first time, too, but once you’ve let the Lord into your heart, you’ll see it’s OK. That awful woman’s free now. Her soul has been saved,” said Shona, stroking Lucy’s hair.
Another voice drew Lucy’s head up, as the newcomer mother crossed the square, holding her daughter’s hand. “I am so proud of you. The Lord is gonna be so impressed by what you did,” said the child’s mother.
Lucy glanced up at the center of the square, where a sheet had been drawn over the doctor’s mutilated body. Ushers were busily spraying the site with holy water and muttering incantations.
Troy strolled over to the bench and took a seat beside Lucy.
“I abhor violence. I always have, and I always will. But sometimes, when we are doing the will of the Lord, we must sacrifice our own feelings, for something much greater than ourselves. You understand why this was necessary. You are a woman of science yourself, Lucy. You know we cannot rebuild mankind if we allow this sickness to invade us. You are one of us now, Lucy. And the Lord has a plan for you,” said Troy.
SEVEN
Mother
___________________________________
It had been three days since the execution. Lucy’s lesions were spreading, radiating across her torso. She was feeling weaker, and knew the dizziness would start soo
n. It was only a matter of days before the lesions spread to her hands and face. She found herself craving the fermented leaves, and had to force down her fish and corn meals to keep up appearances.
It was impossible to leave the company of others without arousing suspicion. Shona, who doted on her with great affection, was by her side almost every hour of the day, and had been proudly introducing her to the rest of the community one by one. There was simply no way for Lucy to seek out medicine without arousing suspicion, and time was running out.
She’d spent the past three days rotating through various chores that kept the community running. As a newcomer, her scope was limited to basic tasks, from fetching water, to preparing food, repairing garments and stoking fires. She knew there were research teams, but they were chemists and engineers, urgently trying to figure out a viable fuel source now that the city’s gasoline had all but run dry. She’d spoken to a couple of them over dinner. They were trying to convert the building’s generator to run off biomass, but the prototypes so far had been unsuccessful. Nonetheless, each professed their commitment to restore mankind to its technologized glory, in the name of the Lord. Knowledge was a gift from above, after all, and it was their duty to preserve that gift and ensure it was used. To do otherwise, they argued, would be to disrespect Her will.
The Preacher was absent. His prayers had instructed him to conduct a hunt for sinners in the western outskirts of the city. He’d taken a team of volunteers and veterans, declaring that they would penetrate further than before, and comb through the streets over several days. The hunting party was expected back the following evening.
Shona had chosen to share a secret with Lucy on the first night of the Preacher’s absence: she was pregnant with his child. Shona could barely contain her excitement, which made up for Lucy’s emotionally stunted response. Shona insisted that she didn’t want to tell anyone else, especially not the Preacher, until another month had passed, just so she could be sure, but she felt certain, and was convinced it would be a girl.
The period of the Preacher’s absence was marked by tranquility. Masses were held in his absence, led by devout members from Preacher’s original farming community. There was no dissent. The community regulated itself with incredible calm and dignity. Disputes were settled by a senior cleric, who would arbitrate in the Preacher’s absence. Violence was unnecessary, because the residents were all there by choice, and were equally invested in the success of the community.
March 7th (est.) – The people here are showing me immense kindness. I have quickly seen the love between them, and the peace they are striving for. Through the Preacher’s wisdom, I hope the Lord rids us of the plague in the city, and that the souls of those affected are redeemed through Her justice.
Lucy had taken to writing fictitious entries in her diary, lest anyone from the community read her notes. The community was awash with smiles, kindly words, and hawkish eyes. It was imperative they believed Lucy was faithful, if she was going to survive. She couldn’t risk anyone calling her into question, and a religious court demanding to inspect her skin. Similarly, she’d amended any diary entries referring to her use of white powder, by rewriting them obliquely so that they would only make sense to her.
The community had almost two thousand members, spread across several buildings around McKinley Square. Each building had its own responsibilities for maintaining cleanliness and order, as well as additional specialist functions within the community. Lucy had helped Shona deliver stationery to the school, which operated out of two small conference rooms. The Faithful’s school was comprised of two classes, roughly divided into elementary and middle school ages. High school students were allowed to attend in the mornings only, then were required to work in the afternoons and evenings. An ex-teacher and several assisting adults attempted to educate children across all subjects, using their own knowledge, and scavenged textbooks. Lucy observed one of the classes being taught – recent history – which ensured that all children remembered, or learned of, human civilization as it was in the year of ‘the great collapse’ as they called it. They covered the medical milestones mankind had reached, the incredible opportunities the internet and smart technology had brought, and encouraged children to share memories they had of devices they’d used. The community’s core beliefs were woven throughout the curriculum: that mankind had grown arrogant, and that the great collapse was a punishment from above. It was jarring for Lucy to see them discuss the initial epidemic and the collapse of the satellites with a great deal of scientific accuracy, only for them to infuse a narrative of supernatural punishment throughout it. She couldn’t deny the motivational element, though; the mantra that they were all chosen survivors, specially selected by the Lord to rebuild mankind from the ashes, proved highly effective. It permeated the whole community. Depression and despair were scant. The bustling district was marked by a sense of optimism, purpose, and hope.
In the evenings, for leisure, the community would provide entertainment from their pool of human talent. On any one night there were musicians, story tellers, crafters, and dancers. Lucy heard the epic tale of the banishing of the cannibals told by two different story tellers. The number of cannibals killed varied wildly between the renditions, but one detail was consistent: the heroic intervention of the Preacher, and the survivors’ gratitude to the Lord for sending him.
***
March 7th (est.) – Retiring to bed early again, exhausted after another hard day’s work. Shona made me laugh today. I didn’t think any good could come from losing mom, but Shona’s the exception.
The community here is incredibly positive and nurturing. I’m still adjusting to it – it’s not what I’ve come to expect from life since the great collapse. Hot food, comfortable bedding, clean clothes, even a candle to read by! The engineering team were telling me they’ve scavenged some photovoltaic cells and are planning on rigging them up for the church and canteen. Their commitment to getting us back on track is inspiring. Were it not for the exhaustion, I think I could maybe be happy here.
The exhaustion was, of course, code for the increasing severity of her symptoms – or the ‘scourge’, as the Faithful called it. She reflected on her brief entry. To her astonishment, she meant it all. She wondered if, were she not infected, she would have been willing to overlook the barbarism of the Faithful’s attitude to the diseased. Perhaps she would have wholly embraced the psychological and physical comforts the community had to offer? For better or for worse, the question was moot. Her condition was worse than ever – the disease was progressing rapidly, and she’d been forced to seek out seated laboring tasks to mask her bouts of dizziness. Her dry, paling complexion was harder to hide, however, and it was only a matter of time before the lesions breached her neckline.
***
A blinding pain woke Lucy, wrenching her from an uneasy slumber. Moonlight shone through a slit in her bedroom curtains. She staggered to the bathroom in agony, clutching her abdomen. It felt swollen. Standing before the mirror, in the pale reflected glow of the moon, she lifted her nightshirt. Her belly button had vanished. Covering her abdomen was a lump the size of a foot. The covering skin looked red-raw. With great trepidation, she pressed her digits upon the swollen area.
The flesh molded around her fingers. She recoiled in horror, but the motion ripped the waxy skin from her midriff. She screamed in pain, then stifled her mouth. She stared downwards. There was no bleeding; the skin that remained was infused with purple. It darkened the closer you got to the center, where the biggest growth was. It throbbed. Lucy felt her hand being drawn to the area magnetically.
She grabbed a flannel and bit down on it. She took several rapid breaths, then pushed her fingers into her malformed abdomen. With a muffled scream, she pierced her own waxy flesh. Her finger tips reached the dark object inside and she wrenched it from her body.
She dropped the mass to the floor; it was a lifeless human fetus. She screamed in horror and recoiled from the room, pressing herself up against
the far wall of the bedroom. Her hands trembled with adrenaline, glistening with flecks of her gelatinous, liquid flesh. Her regular abdomen was unaffected, but the ruptured remains of the reddish-purple growth hung from her body like an externalized amniotic sac.
The bedroom door burst open and Shona rushed in, holding a lantern.
“Lucy, are you OK?” she said, setting the lantern on the side and wrapping her sister in a comforting embrace. “I thought someone had hurt you,” she soothed.
Shona followed Lucy’s eyes to the lifeless, pink form in the bathroom. She gasped in horror, looking from the fetus to Lucy. She wrenched Lucy’s nightshirt up, revealing the ruptured, unnatural flesh.
“Sinner” cried Shona, her eyes filled with fear. “Sinner!” Shona repeated, shouting, this time.
Lucy clamped a trembling hand over her sister’s mouth.
“Shh, shh, please, I can explain this, I’m not a sinner, please just be quiet!” begged Lucy, but Shona was petrified, and continued to wail, her cries muffled only by Lucy’s hand.
Shona kneed Lucy in the stomach and scrambled to her feet.
“Help! Sinner! Sin-” cried Shona, as she lunged for the door, but Lucy leapt upon her, pinning her to the floor. A wave of renewed strength surged through her body.
Shona scratched at Lucy’s face, and kicked with all her might, while Lucy fought to keep her pinned. “Sinner! You’re going to hell! Your soul must be cleansed!” spat Shona, with terror in her eyes.
“Shona, please, listen to me!” grunted Lucy, as they rolled violently to the side, knocking into the table. The lantern fell to the floor and smashed. The oil flame spilled out of the glass cage and onto the bed sheets.
“Stone the sinner! Stone her!” groaned Shona, as she clawed her way towards the door, trying to kick Lucy away.
Convulsive Box Set Page 47