Zombie Paradise Lost: Still Alive Book Six

by Javan Bonds

  Throwing on his trenchcoat Sako walks out the door, smiling as he tosses up his hand. Guntersville’s Finest don’t seem willing to accept that someone who has survived the end of the world might now be kidnapping children. They have been quick to blame the naked blue crazies rather than even suspect a living, rational human being. But Sako is a realist.

  I smile as my feet touch the asphalt, placing my fedora on my now masked head. I am in my element. As I disappear into the darkness a quote from The Watchmen rolls into my thoughts. “Investigation comes first. Consequences be damned.”

  ☠☠☠

  Remaining in the shadows is easy. Night can be a tool used by both good and evil. Tonight, I intend to discover if there is evil posing as good. A wolf in sheep’s clothing inside our island sanctuary.

  Paradise can be lost.

  Lost: When the powerful are willing to prey on the innocent to feed their twisted desires.

  Lost: When average citizens turn a blind eye to the evil that is right under their nose.

  Lost: When the sins of those in power are exposed to the light, the people must choose on which side they stand. But they choose evil over good.

  Lost: When some believe that they are upstanding and righteous but steadfastly cling to their false prophet; unswayable in their faith. They too must be cleansed.

  Lost: When they remain self righteously ignorant, their bare-bones will be cast down beside their master’s. Evil cannot be allowed to prevail.

  Who will be left standing while the sycophants are obliterated? The few that are not willing to allow darkness to corrupt society.

  Those of us that stand absolute against evil.

  Those of us that hold to the side of good.

  Light shall cleanse the darkness and good will overcome evil in the end!

  ☠☠☠

  Moving in the shadows and staying out of direct light as often as possible, Sako’s radio crackled at its lowest volume. “Mayor Randy Collins brought in for questioning after human remains discovered outside the courthouse.”

  A lump formed in his throat, “I’m not willing to believe the leader of this safe haven is a child murderer. Besides, clues are pointing elsewhere. Has he been set up?”

  An additional message quickly comes over the radio. “Hunter Daniels, the ten-year-old boy that Mayor Collins and his wife have been recently fostering, is now listed as missing. Due to his proximity to the situation involving missing children, Hunter’s missing status has forgone time requirement.”

  I've seen the mayor and the blonde boy together more than once around me. There never appeared any hesitation or hostility from either party; they seemed to have a father/son relationship. Hunter must have been taken by someone else.

  Breaking into a brisk trot the trenchcoat-clad detective covered over half the island in no time. Sako now stood in the darkness of the backyard where Pastor Mike Brown resides, remaining completely unnoticed.

  He has never been investigated or even openly suspected of doing any wrong. At least in Guntersville. Fortunately, this home doesn't have a fence, dogs, tripwires, or any security whatsoever. The streetlight in front of the house gave some residual illumination to the roof pitch at the rear of the structure. The detective walked in the open now to stand in the darkness against the back of the house.

  Shuffling to a window, he can see lights but no movement in the house. As he made his way along the back wall to the end of the building, every window frame presented him with nothing. All appearances suggest someone is home, just not where he can get a glimpse of them. Maybe I can catch movement in the next pane.

  Then the detective heard voices! At least two people were speaking. The conversation grew in pitch as Sako neared a door which appeared to lead into the cellar. He made his way closer to this basement door.

  There he hears a male speaking mid-sentence inside the basement. “..supplies are limited.” He immediately recognized the voice of Brother Brown.

  Now an adult female is speaking. I haven’t spent much time around Lauren Brown, but I believe it is her.

  “I guess you’re right. I want to crack its little balls and fry them up with butter and salt.” This is beyond strange. What the hell are they talking about?

  The preacher replies. “Oh my God, that’s so fucking sexy.” There is shuffling and a pause before he speaks again. “I just want to fuck you so bad!” Sako was surprised to hear a supposedly upstanding religious leader using profanity.

  The voice he assumed to be the preacher's wife returns with a low laugh. “All right. Let’s do it right here before it wakes up.” Really? Am I going to have to listen to this for at least the next few minutes? What a wonderful soundtrack! This will give me time to figure out what this “it” is they keep referring to.

  ☠☠☠

  The most painful three minutes I’ve ever endured have passed. It is impossible to decide which one of them made the loudest, more animalistic noises. Thankfully, now spent, Mrs. Brown is excusing herself to go upstairs and “get the kitchen ready.” I can hear the pastor moving items around within the basement.

  Everything is completely still and quiet in the basement.

  After a few minutes of silence, there is a third voice. The words are not clear, but there is obvious panic from what appears to be a child. Did they really just have sex with a kid in the room? Sick perverts!

  Brother Brown speaks reassuringly. “It’s okay, you just tripped–“

  A young boy’s voice interrupts him, sounding angry and accusing. “No, I didn’t! You did it. You’re the one that’s been taking all the other kids, aren’t you?”

  “You’re a smart one. You caught me. You know, I wasn’t planning on taking you. You’re not like all the others I have taken. A little older and male, but I couldn’t let you tell anyone what you saw.”

  Whoever this child is and whatever he saw Brother Brown do, the minister just admitted to taking other children and having taken this one. Things are starting to come together.

  In the basement comes the squeak of a knob turning and then the hiss of air leaking from something.

  What the hell is that?

  Then the preacher speaks again. “You know what this is? It’s a captive bolt gun.”

  Even though I can’t see it, I know what it is.

  “They use them all the time in the cattle processing industry.”

  Oh, fuck! I know what’s coming. I’ve got to get in there!

  Damit! The cellar door is locked! If I push with all my might...

  “Hold on a second, and I will show you how it works!”

  No!

  “Help! Help! Help!”

  That’s Hunter! I have to do something!

  From inside the basement again the sound of a spinning electric motor starts and then something even louder drowns it out.

  Wait! What is that? What the hell! He’s started a loud motor. It’s dulling any sound coming from in there! If they're talking, I can’t hear them! Is the preacher running a lawnmower or goddamn leaf blower? It must be his way of concealing his crime!

  I have to get inside while there's still time!

  If I can put my full weight against the door... Wait! I can see the old hinges and the door start to give.

  It won't... take... much... more...

  35

  The Fugitive

  "Help! Help! Help!" Hunter Daniels called for help from within the basement where Mike Brown had him chained to a wall. Hunter had witnessed the supposed temporary replacement for The Man of God planting evidence to incriminate Mayor Randy Collins in the kidnappings that the pastor, himself, had committed. Unknown to his clueless faithful followers, this cowboy preacher was actually The Wolf... The faux minister, a diabolical cannibal secretly preying on innocent children, finally convinced his wife, The Alpha, that even a male would taste just as good as others they had eaten.

  Good thing I turned on the wood chipper! Most of them cry out, but this one is loud. Not like that idiot neighbor Jo
nes would hear, anyway. That fucking retard is probably too busy praying at his shrine to Mike-fucking-Christ Brown!

  Before Pastor Brown stepped back into the basement from the garage area, he looked at a stack of wood. Mesquite or Hickory? Decisions, decisions. By the time the reverend reentered the dark section of the basement, his meal was attempting to escape, trying to force the clasp from around its wrist.

  Moving forward with the captive bolt gun in hand, he thought he heard something banging on the outer door. Loud whirring from the gas motor might keep noise from any nearby good Samaritans, but it also impaired his hearing. Trying to place the projector against the boy's forehead, Brother Brown fought to get it in just the right position.

  "Hold still! It's not going to hurt; I promise." As he said this, the door in the corner to the left of Hunter began collapsing inward.

  ☠☠☠

  With one last forceful shoulder slam, Hirotaro Sako the former Marine and police detective turned post-apocalyptic superhero, came crashed through the door. Mike Brown pulled away from the boy in surprise.

  Sako, outfitted in the garb of Rorschach, landed on the hard basement floor but was on his feet in an instant. There were no words spoken, just the zinging of Sako's katana Ivory, cutting through the air. The investigator was going to make sure this was the last “lost child investigation” he would have to pursue.

  The pretend preacher lifted the compressed air canister he was holding. It was his only means of defense, taking the blow of Sako’s sword as it struck. Ivory impacted the metal cylinder, rupturing it. Sparks flew as steel met steel and the metal tank exploded. Freezing oxygen forced its way out, blowing the policeman's Japanese steel out of his hand, sending it flying across the room and against a far wall.

  "Motherfucker!” The pretend preacher spat angrily at Sako. “Where the hell am I supposed to get another tank now?" Then The Wolf chuckled sadistically. "I Guess I can always just hit them in the head with a fucking sledgehammer!"

  Disgusted, Sako brandished Ebony, his tanto; which was basically a shortened version of a full-length katana. "You're under arrest; you twisted bastard.”

  Offended, Mike scoffed. "You're going to arrest The Man of God... Why the fuck would you want to lock up a dutiful servant of the Lord?"

  Even before Sako broke down the door, it was all starting to click together in his mind. Now within his vision, was a chamber of horrors. Shackles attached to the wall at a child’s height. A bloody butcher’s table with bone saws, meat cleavers, chef's knives, and meat tenderizing hammers. He now understood what had been happening to all the missing kids. "Kidnapping. Murder." Sako paused, seeming to choke on the words he never thought would ever cross his lips. He clenched his teeth to keep from spitting into the blotted mask. "And cannibalism."

  Mike arched his eyebrows and cocked his head. "Good job, Detective. You caught me." He smiled and raised his hands. "You're a smart one. I surrender."

  Rorschach smirked under the hood. "I don't mind being the smartest man in the world; I just wish it wasn't this one. Now, lie on the floor, and keep your hands open and flat."

  As the pastor sank to his knees, Hunter began to speak.

  In that brief instant Staff Sergeant Sako glanced away to look at the boy. The Wolf took the only opportunity he had. Grabbing the closest object he could use as a weapon. Leaning against the wall was a steel bar used as a spit over an open fire. Mike put his hand around the cold metal and launched it at the investigator's legs. Sako noticed the briefest of movement out of the corner of his eye, but it was too late. He instantly turned back to Brother Brown but that fraction of a second was all it took, and he went crashing forward in excruciating pain.

  Brown was coming to his feet as Sako went tumbling to the floor. The bar had careened into the former Staff Sergeant's shins. He maintained a grip on the onyx pommel of his tanto, but his knees were assuredly bleeding along with the front of his calves. His fedora was lost somewhere in the fall.

  ☠☠☠

  Sako realized in the dimly lit basement that his mask might have lessened his peripheral vision, reached and pulled it off. As he stood again, he tossed the hood somewhere into the unlit darkness of the room. Now his vision would be clear. Brown stepped back grasping more fighting implements. A steak knife and another long metal bar which he used for stirring coals were within his reach.

  Taking his own step back, the detective looked at the young boy, attempting to pry the shackle from his wrist. "Here. Pull it tight!"

  Doing as instructed, Hunter yanked on the chain with his ten-year-old might. Staff Sergeant Sako slammed his tanto into the links, surprisingly breaking the chain. I wasn’t even sure if that’d work. Thank you, ancestors!

  “Run Hunter, people have to be told!”

  Without speaking, the boy started moving, not knowing why he picked up the fedora and shoved the discarded Rorschach hood into his pocket. Before bolting out the door, he picked up Ivory for defense, if the need arose. Unbeknownst to the blonde child, every remaining protagonist on the island would soon be required to protect themselves from what was about to come.

  Now that the primary goal has been achieved, there’s only one thing left to do. There’ll be no more wild goose chases — not another disappointing failure. The hunt for lost children had exposed the most barbaric atrocity imaginable. I’m going to make sure he’s stopped!

  Walking backward, The Wolf moved through the doorway from the basement into the garage area. Palm exposed he lifting his staff. Trying to sound calm. “Hang On! Can we talk about this? There’s got to be some kind of compromise–“

  “I don’t compromise, even in the face of Armageddon!” Rorschach bellowed. The Japanese investigator moved forward, razor-sharp blade in his gloved grip, pointing at the murderer.

  Once they had both passed through the doorway into the underground garage, the detective leaped at Brown. To defend against the sword, the sham evangelist instinctively raised the shaft.

  The room was lit much like the basement area, dark and drab. The air had filled with exhaust fumes from the wood chipper making every breath thick and noxious. The racket of the wood chipper was nearly deafening. At least no one will hear what I’m about to do to the preacher!

  The fake reverend yelled, over the loud motor, trying to making an offer. “This isn’t the way it’s meant to be. We can just pretend like this never happened–“

  Sako was again forced to interrupt. “I was meant to exact justice!” At another Watchmen quote, he brought his blade around to strike at Brown’s opposite side. Flecks of fire flew as the preacher parried with the steel shaft.

  Grabbing the steak knife was a distraction. Sako didn’t notice that the minister simultaneously picked up a syringe, full of vecuronium bromide. This agent, a paralyzing drug, would render a person utterly immobile after only a few minutes. Brother Brown had asked Lauren to bring home a “just in case” measure, from the clinic. He would use it if his subjects became a hassle to deal with. Much to Mike’s morbid delight, they would remain entirely conscious and able to feel everything.

  “I’ll bring an end to your lies. The world will know what you’ve done!” Rorschach screamed as sparks rained with each slam of his blade.

  The Wolf smiled wickedly. “You know I can’t let you do that.”

  Sako came around for an uppercut on the right with his katana. The supposed man of the cloth brought his staff to that side to stop the blow. Seeing an opportunity, he only grinned maniacally. The steak knife fell out of his hand, revealing the end of Rorschach.

  The needle jammed forcefully through the tattered leather trenchcoat, stabbing painfully into his upper arm. His thumb pressed the plunger in, dispensing the fast-acting serum into the detective.

  Jerking back Sako winced. “What did you do?” Came the hero’s confused question.

  The preacher cackled. “Oh, just gave you a little something to make you more pliable. You’ll find out soon enough.” Though Sako had no clue what he just in
jected him with, he was sure it would somehow quickly incapacitate him. He had to finish this fight before it had time to take effect.

  But elevated heart rate and physical activity would most assuredly make the drug work faster. Detective Sako was aware of this, but nothing differently could be done. He grew weaker as Ebony continued to clang against Brother Brown’s metal bar. Within mere seconds he was hardly able to stand, the former Marine was at the point of collapsing. The cannibal minister stood with arms at his sides and began laughing.

  “You’ve come to the end of the road Detective. Prepare to say goodbye!” Glancing around, the supposed temporary replacement for the Man of God smiled and nodded as if finding what he was searching for. “I’ve lost count of how many lives I’ve taken. And I’ve tasted every goddamn one of them.”

  He pulled his arm inward, slamming the heavy steel pipe into the investigator’s knee. This blow was completely unnecessary, but it brought Mike immeasurable pleasure to inflict pain.

  Sako’s kneecap exploded as nerves and bones were crushed. Crimson gushed from the gaping wound, leaving the lower leg connected to the rest of the body only by a few strands of tendons and wet meat.

  As the detective toppled to the side, he was able to force out one last burst of energy. Slashing upward with his blade he managed to cut cleanly through the joint of the deceiver’s elbow. In his last conscious movement, The Sacrifice severed The Wolf’s left forearm from his body.

  “Motherfucker!” Brother Brown cried out in pain. He quickly pulled his belt off and synched it around his bicep, unrolling his flannel shirt to use as a tourniquet.

  There! It won’t be a permanent fix, but at least I won’t goddamn bleed out in the next few minutes. Now, this sumbitch needs to find out what he gets for fucking with me!

  “What was the point in that? Aren’t you supposed to turn the other cheek or some shit?” The reverend chuckled. “Oh wait, that’s me! Too goddamn bad for you I don’t practice what I preach!”

  Brother Brown lifted the stump of his left arm, pointing the bleeding appendage nearly straight up. Being above the heart might at least slow the flow of blood. Maliciously, he looked over to the wood chipper.