Cannibal Country (Book 2): Flesh of the Sons

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Cannibal Country (Book 2): Flesh of the Sons Page 4

by Urban, Tony


  The people roared with laughter. Wyatt didn’t see the humor but smiled so as not to stand out in a bad way.

  “Of course, there’s other good news. Truly good news. Miraculous, really. We’ve welcomed five new friends into our community today.”

  Papa’s eyes scanned the crowd but, unlike Wyatt, he had no trouble finding who he was looking for and gestured with a meaty paw. “Barbara Morrill came here all the way from Maine.”

  Wyatt watched everyone turn to his mother who stood on the left side of the audience. Even at a distance he thought he saw her blush at the attention as she gave a brief wave.

  “Her boys are here too and from what I’ve been told they’re bona fide heroes. They are Wyatt.”

  He pointed and Wyatt felt the pressure of more than one hundred sets of eyes on him. It was like standing in front of the largest classroom he’d ever seen, only these people weren’t classmates. They were strangers. He wanted to tuck his head and melt into the floor, but Alexander squeezed his shoulder.

  “Relax. Enjoy your moment,” Alexander said.

  Wyatt nodded to the crowd but was eager for the attention to turn elsewhere. Fortunately, it did.

  “And Seth,” Papa said.

  Wyatt found Seth sitting by the doors from which Papa had emerged, the dog in his lap.

  “And we mustn’t forget their loyal dog who was given the unfortunate name of Supper. But don’t you get any ideas now.”

  Seth lifted Supper’s paw and made the dog wave to the crowd. Papa guffawed and the crowd roared. Even Wyatt couldn’t hold back a chuckle, but some of that might have been relief that the people were now examining someone other than him.

  “Last, but most certainly not least, is the lovely Allie Hagan,” Papa said.

  Wyatt joined in with the gawking crowd and found Allie standing on the sidelines. He hadn’t seen her cleaned up in weeks and he gulped in a quick breath when he saw her. Maybe it was being in this environment rather than on the road or in the desert, but she looked more beautiful than ever, even though he could see her smile was both nervous and fake.

  The crowd’s incessant clapping and whooping continued until Papa tapped the microphone with his hand, sending back a shrill protest of feedback

  “Alright, alright. I know you’re all excited, as am I, but please remember that our new friends have been on their own for quite some time and respect that they shall require time to acclimate. Please, let us not overwhelm them.”

  Silence again reigned.

  “Their story is one of perseverance. Survival. A want - no, a need - for something more. Having no idea if a better place was out there but taking a leap of faith. Well, I say it is no coincidence that they have shown up here, to our home, to our community. Some might say it was a stroke of luck that they happened upon us from so far away. But I say NO!” The word boomed through the speakers and made Wyatt flinch.

  “There’s no such thing as luck, my children. These people, like all of you, were guided here by the strong hand, the loving hand, of Yahweh. And for that, we must all say, ‘thank you’!”

  Papa bowed his head and the crowd did the same. Wyatt heard a chorus of muttered prayers of thanks. After a few moments everyone returned their attention to the big man.

  “Now, I’m aware that I might sound like a kook,” Papa said.

  “No way!” Someone shouted from the crowd.

  “It’s alright. I know, I know. Especially to the newcomers, I’m sure our ways might come off as eccentric. Perhaps, even weird.”

  He chuckled and the crowd laughed. But he was right. Wyatt did think this was all a little weird.

  “And that’s okay. If you’d have told me, ten years ago, that I would have survived nuclear attacks and that I would help build a safe haven for all who need Yahweh’s protection, I wouldn’t have believed it either. But He showed me the way. He led me out of the burning ashes and the stinking brimstone of Hell on Earth. He saved not only my life but my soul. He took this broken man that would have once laughed at the idea of a place like this and turned me into His humble servant. He showed me the light and the way.”

  Many in the crowd said, “Amen” and everyone raised their hands into the air in praise. Wyatt again felt like the outlier for not joining in, but also felt doing so would be wrong somehow because this was all too new and foreign to him and mimicking their actions solely to fit in seemed offensive.

  He looked to the people he knew, to see how they reacted. Allie’s arms were folded across her chest. Barbara’s hands were in her pockets. But Seth’s were upraised. Wyatt tried to examine his brother, to find the signature smirk pulling his mouth up and to the left, but it wasn’t there.

  “Now is the time to stand up for what is important to us. What is important in life. Nobody can take what is ours. Not anymore. We stand strong. We stand together. All of us knowing we are the chosen people to carry on. And we welcome those that join us and smite down those that mean us harm.

  “And again, we say Amen!”

  The crowd repeated, “Amen!” together.

  Wyatt watched as Papa turned around and walked the few steps to his scooter. He didn’t accept help from Franklin, he did it all on his own. Then he rode off from where he came.

  When the man was side by side with Seth, Papa leaned in close and seemed to whisper something in his ear. Wyatt watched his brother smile and nod.

  “Looks like your brother is special,” Alexander said.

  Wyatt peeled his eyes from Papa and Seth. “Why?”

  “He’s getting a one on one.”

  Wyatt turned back and saw Franklin pushing Seth, following Papa. “Is that strange or something?”

  “I wouldn’t say strange,” Alexander said. “But Papa’s got his hands full keeping this ship afloat. Doesn’t leave him a lot of time to socialize.”

  “So, why’d he pick Seth?”

  Alexander shrugged his shoulders, then glanced skyward. “Every decision he makes comes straight from the big guy above.”

  Wyatt wondered if all these people believed Papa had a direct line to God. And whether Alexander was fully on board or towing the company line. The look on his face made Wyatt think he was a true believer. Or one hell of an actor. Either way, it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to continue at the moment.

  “Is it okay if I go talk to my mom and Allie?” He asked.

  “Of course,” Alexander said. “This is your home for as long as you choose to stay. You’re free to do anything you want here, Wyatt. All of you are.”

  He waded into the crowd. Wyatt realized Alexander wasn’t the only person smiling, they all wore faces that appeared downright exuberant. It was a welcome change of pace from the grim reality of life on the road, but he couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that it was all too perfect.

  Chapter 9

  Franklin unlocked the door to the suite and held it ajar as Papa passed through. Seth hesitated, looking up at the man whose face wore a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Should I--”

  “Go on,” Franklin said. “I’m not holding open the door to air out the room.”

  Seth wheeled himself into the suite, immediately struck by its size. He thought the biggest rooms in hotels were reserved for the upper floors, but this was the largest he’d ever seen in person. Crisp, white carpet and furniture gave it an airy, almost Heavenly feel and he checked the floor behind him to ensure his wheels weren’t dirty and leaving marks.

  The entryway opened to a kitchenette which in turn led to a sprawling living room area, complete with white, plush couches and chairs. A bar stood against the far wall, which also contained two doors leading to the bathroom and bedroom. The door to the latter hung half-open and through the gap Seth saw a lingerie-clad woman asleep on the bed. He had a good view of her heart-shaped bottom but tried not to gawk.

  “I’ll be out in a moment, my child,” Papa’s voice seeped through the same doorway. “Make ya’self comfortable.” His voice lacked some of
the heft it had carried outside, now sounding more genial. His deep southern accent came out harder too.

  Seth wondered how comfortable he was expected to be, alone in this lavish room. Was he supposed to sit on the couch? Make a sandwich? Pour himself a drink? A little specificity would have been nice.

  Without it though, he decided to play it safe and wait in his chair. That was easier anyway as Supper was busy napping on his lap.

  When Papa emerged, he’d changed into a new white shirt, but this one was unbuttoned and sagged open, revealing his ample chest and gut. Both were criss crossed by purple veins and stretch marks. Wiry gray hairs poked up from his flesh like bristles. The man used a cotton towel to wipe sweat from his neck, then under his pits.

  Seth found this a little like seeing the Wizard hiding behind the curtain. Gone was the mystique of the man who’d rallied his people into a gleeful frenzy. In his place was an ordinary fat man with perspiration problems.

  Papa’s willingness to allow Seth to see him in such a state could have tarnished him in the boy’s eyes, but it had the opposite effect. Instead, Seth was more in awe because he knew he was seeing parts, both physical and emotional, of the man to which others were not privy. He knew he was receiving special treatment and for a young man who’d so often been excluded, this reversal of fortune was intoxicating.

  “I tell you something I’ve learned the hard way,” Papa said. “A man doesn’t understand the glory of air conditioning until it’s been snatched away from him.”

  Seth smiled politely, as one does when they’re in a stranger’s home for the first time and have no idea what to say.

  Papa limped to the couch and plopped down, the springs screaming under his girth. He stared at Seth. “You ever been to Texas before?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I appreciate the respect, child, but you can drop the sir.”

  “So just Papa then?”

  “I know, I know. Kind of eccentric, right? It’s just a nickname that stuck, I suppose. One I was reborn with in this new world.” Papa grabbed a glass of bourbon off the marble coffee table and took a sip. “Oh, my. Now where are my manners? Would you like a drink?”

  “No. I’m fine. You don’t have to get up.”

  “Nonsense, you’re my guest.” He leaned forward with a grandfatherly smile that put Seth at ease. He half-expected Papa to reach behind his ear and pull out a quarter. “Anyway, I’ll just have one of the wives to fetch it.” He slapped Seth’s knee and chortled a blend of a cough and laughter. Phlegm roughing up in the back of his throat with each chuckle.

  “Wives?” Seth said. “Like, plural?”

  Papa winked. “Belle, why don’t you come on in here and fix our guest a drink, m’kay?”

  “No, really, I’m--”

  A stunning woman with ice blonde hair emerged from the bedroom. She wore a silver, paper-thin nightgown and Seth didn’t have to look too hard to realize that was all she was wearing. Her nipples poked against the fabric like daggers. Again, he fought the desire to stare.

  Seth stammered as she walked by, sending him a small smile on her way to the bar. The first words he managed were, “That’s not the same one I saw on the bed.”

  Papa chuckled again. “No, I don’t suppose she is, now, is she?” He leaned in again. “You know, her name is Belle, short for Jezebel. I swear to Yahweh. I thought she was a stripper givin’ me her stage name first time we met, but no, that’s the name her momma and daddy gave her. Prescient folks, they were.”

  Belle returned from the bar, glass in hand. She bent down as she passed Seth the drink, at the same time providing him with a complete and perfect view down her gown. His mouth went dry as sawdust and now he was glad for the drink.

  “Th-- Th-- Thank you.”

  “Many thanks, beautiful Belle. Now why don’t you go on back to the bedroom and relax with Destiny?” He patted Jezebel on the butt as she passed by him and left the room. Then, Papa turned to Seth. “Destiny. Now that is a stripper name.”

  “A stripper? One of your wives?” Seth gulped down a good third of the liquid in his glass, an act that sent him coughing and wishing for water to put out the fire that consumed him from the inside out. “Jesus Christ,” he gasped.

  He’d never been a boy to ration his swearing but as soon as the words spilled from his lips, he realized his mistake. He’s just taken the Lord’s name in vain in front of a preacher - of sorts, anyway. He half-expected the man to throw him out of the room. To kick Seth and his family out of this community before they even had a chance to settle in. And it would be deserved.

  Instead, Papa only pointed a pudgy finger at him. “Easy on that sort of talk around here, my child. You can say fuck and shit and piss all you desire. Throw in some cocks and cunts if you must. For those are only words. But I won’t tolerate blasphemy.”

  Seth nodded, cowed. “Understood. I’m sorry.”

  “Apologies to me are not necessary or required. But I reckon you might want to repent in your prayers tonight.”

  Seth took another drink and cringed.

  Papa’s stern expression transitioned to a smile. “That’s some of the smoothest bourbon you can find anywhere these days.”

  Seth set the glass down and wiped the water from his eyes. “Thank you. Very smooth.” He shivered. Supper glanced up at him, annoyed by all the fuss. He patted the dog’s head. Everything’s cool, friend. I’m just getting drunk with Papa.

  “I know you’re young but I’m curious about something. Do you think there’s a reason, a purpose, for what happened five years ago?”

  That’s a pretty heavy question, Seth thought. As he tried to come up with an answer Papa continued.

  “I believe Yahweh decided to reset the world, giving everyone a chance to start over. Be it a stripper, nun, charlatan, pastor, or even a cripple.” He narrowed his eyes down to Seth. “I imagine you might know something about that, now, wouldn’t you? Heck, I know a thing or two about that, as well.”

  Seth noticed a thin, viscous fluid seeping from one of large sores that held residence on the side of Papa’s face. As if reading his mind, the old man pulled out a white rag from his pocket and dabbed at one of them, leaving small specks of blood on the cloth.

  “You and I are very alike. I can tell. And it’s not only the physical side of the coin of which I speak. It’s the mental.” Papa leaned in close and tapped Seth’s forehead, and then did the same to his own. “I was a hunk of raw clay, worthless and useless, but Yahweh himself molded into me the man I am today. I was made to do great things. And I’m telling you now Seth, so are you.”

  Seth listened to the man in front of him. He watched him speak. Something about it seemed so genuine. It was as if Papa peered into his mind, saw what he wanted out of life, and was now telling him it was within his reach. And this wasn’t a superfluous, pandering, miracles can happen kind of speech. It was the knowledge that, if he believed in himself, he could have everything he ever needed.

  “I know, to a young soul such as yourself, the hour is early but it’s nearing time for me to retire.” Papa opened his mouth in an exaggerated yawn.

  Seth was disappointed. He wanted to hear more of Papa’s message, receive more of his wisdom, but he knew better than to be rude. He nodded and backed his chair away from the table. “Of course.”

  “Our people are good people. Introduce yourself, socialize. But I hope you’ll also take time to reflect upon what we’ve discussed.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “That’s good, my child. Very good. You head on out now.”

  Leaving Papa was the last thing Seth wanted to do, but he wheeled himself to the door, all the while wondering what this really meant. Would Papa have this same conversation with Wyatt? With their mother and Allie? Being dismissed so soon made him wonder if this spiel was the standard greeting and he’d just been played a fool.

  Seth opened the door to the suite and found Franklin standing outside. He was so surprised by the man’s presen
ce that he flinched. Franklin noticed and grinned. Prick, Seth thought.

  “Franklin,” Papa called out and the man peered into the room.

  “Yes, Papa?”

  “Would you be a dear and take Seth to his room?”

  “I don’t think they’ve been assigned rooms yet,” Franklin said.

  “Maybe not the others. But I want Seth in my hall. I believe one oh nine is vacant.”

  Seth saw Franklin’s eyes narrow but didn’t know why. This didn’t feel like the time to ask either.

  “Anything else?”

  “Make sure he has a good meal this evening. Double portions. He’s had a hard journey.”

  Franklin nodded. “Will do.” He went to close the door, but Papa’s voice stopped him.

  “And Seth, do join me for breakfast tomorrow. I so look forward to continuing our discussion.”

  Seth watched Papa hobble to the bedroom. “You’ll forgive me, but the ladies can’t be kept waiting.” He stepped inside and closed the door. Then Franklin shut the door to the suite, rattling its frame. Seth noticed the number on Papa’s suite was 113.

  “You need a push or?”

  Seth shook his head. “I’m good. Just tell me which way to go.”

  Franklin pointed to the right and strode that way. Seth followed, passing 111 and stopping at the next room. His room. The man swiped a plastic keycard and the lock opened. Franklin handed him the card and pushed open the door, gesturing with his hand like Vanna White after a contestant decided to buy a vowel.

  “All yours, kid.”

  Seth peered into the room. It wasn’t quite as large as Papa’s but was still three times as large as any hotel room in which he’d ever resided.

  “I’ll get you some grub, but I need to piss first.” Franklin turned back up the hall.

  “You can use my bathroom,” Seth said, trying to curry favor.

  Franklin flashed a joyless smile. “That’s fine. I’m right next door.” He moved to room 111.

  “Aren’t you like second in command,” Seth asked.

  Franklin nodded as he opened the door to his own suite. “So they say.”

 

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