Circle of Wagons: The Gospel of Madness (Book 4 of 6) (The Gospel of Madness - (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Series))

by Georg Bruckmann

  In the door leading to the stairwell, the key still stuck, but the door was not locked. I didn't have to turn it to get to the stairwell. I had to break open the door to the apartment next door. A similarly chaotic picture, only without a corpse. Then I couldn't go on.

  Through the stairwell window I could see that the neighboring building of the apartment block was separated by a narrow footpath, narrow but still too big to jump over. I had to go down to street level. Until now my efforts had taken about twenty minutes and every now and then another cry of Brownjacket had sounded, had mixed like that of a banshee with the singing of the degenerates and had made it even uglier in this way. I went down the steps of the dim stairwell. The front door squeaked loudly and shrill as it swung inside, and I cursed. Listened. The singing wasn't stopped.

  Good, good, good.

  I carefully stretched my head around the corner. Da Silva's disciples were still cavorting on the square. Nobody noticed me. I had now brought about thirty or forty meters between me and Brownjacket's crucifixion. Not a hell of a lot, considering the time it took. In front of me lay a three-story residential house, surrounded by a U-shaped collection of various one-story shops. A little to the left was a large tree and shrubs. Further behind, behind the U, there were more trees rising up, and it seemed as if there was a park behind them. Completely overgrown with certainty.

  Ideal for me.

  For a few seconds I gathered my courage, then I sprinted across Rathausstreet, without even looking to the right in the direction of Apostle Church, in the direction of the degenerates. When I reached the tree, I realized that climbing over roofs would not be so easy here because, unlike in the courtyard where I had started my tour, there were no practical climbing aids standing around in the form of garbage containers or vehicles. The U was formed by a bookshop, a mobile phone shop and an ice cream parlor, and the shops shared a tin roof. The display windows of the bookshop and the mobile phone shop were still intact. Only that of the ice cream parlor was hit, why ever someone should plunder an ice cream parlor. So the choice wasn't difficult for me. Between the tables of the ice cream parlor, into which the autumn leaves had been blown for many years, I noticed that the back entrance was locked. After some searching I found the matching key in a counter drawer below the cash register. To my surprise, the back entrance did not lead directly into the park, but first into another narrow building, which I also crossed. Then I squeezed myself through a window and the park was in front of me. Every step I took, deliberately setting my feet and pausing anxiously at every rustling sound that penetrated my ear, I continued my journey, fifteen or twenty meters apart, along the flank of the Church of the Apostles until I thought I'd gotten the desecrated building behind me.

  I turned to the right and after another sweaty minute I could see that I had been right with my assessment. Between a villa-like, large building and a much more modern residential house, I pushed myself forward. The free space between the houses no longer belonged to the park, but was just as densely covered by vegetation.

  And that was my luck.

  The degenerate came along the side of the church and made her way into the bushes a few meters away from me. She pulled down her pants and squatted down. I could see that despite the omnipresent young trees and shrubs that were between me and the woman. Without thinking long and hard, I shot her in the head with a bolt. A truly shitty death, I recognized when I stalked her to take the bolt back. I then pulled her dirty, gray-green trousers up again so that her white flesh could not shimmer through the branches and thus draw attention. Then I sneaked a few more meters to the point where the vegetation weakened and only sickly grasses sprouted out between the joints of the stone slabs with which the narrow area from Apostelsquare to the back of the church had been laid out. A quick glance revealed that there was no obstacle between me and the back of the building.

  The rear wall of the sacred building had partially collapsed.

  Now it started.

  Mariam and Wanda

  Mariam hadn't left her seat. She took quickly changing turns watching the doctor and the stairs. Mahler didn't move. Only very rarely did he change his position slightly when it became too uncomfortable for him. Then he sat still again. Mariam began to slowly walk up and down. The danger threatening her from the staircase was limited by the fact that Wanda was on the stairs between her and the degenerates. Of course, they might have overpowered Wanda and then seized the opportunity to attack her and Doctor Mahler as well, but she would hear that. She'd be able to prepare for that. Despite these sober thoughts, she was full of concern for Wanda. She stepped on the parapet of the steeple. She could only hear the motorcycles she before had been able to see at some distance as they made their way through the deserted streets of Heilbronn. They were not far away, but were hidden from their eyes by houses and other buildings. Mariam unlocked her rifle and placed the stock on the balustrade. There was no target yet, and she was happy about it, even though it meant that all degenerates had to be close to Wanda. When they were attacked by them down on the square, Mariam had done what Wanda had taught her.

  She hadn't thought and immediately struck, with the deadliest weapon she had.

  You must never spare them. You can't try to keep them at a distance. That would only give them an opportunity to attack you again. You mustn't think long.

  Mariam understood this on a logical level, but she still felt bad. And now she had another gun in her hand. Now, maybe two hours later, she was forced to shoot people again. She'd do it, no question. She would do it to protect Wanda, the motorcyclists, doctor Mahler and herself. She'd do as good as she could. She ...

  The bikers were there.

  Two of them rolled at high speed across the square under the church. The rearmost, vaguely feminine, stopped a little from the church, crossed the machine and took cover behind it, where he folded up the visor of his helmet and then began to assemble a large rifle, the individual parts of which he took from his backpack. One of the two front scouts yelled something towards the church and gesticulated with his sub-machine gun. The degenerates seemed to roar something back, it sounded like, but Mariam couldn't understand it. Then two shots in quick succession. Soon after, another one. Screams echoed through the stairwell to the top. That must have been Wanda. None of the motorcyclists had fired their guns, but that changed quickly. Something flew from the direction of the church across the square and collided with the helmet of the left of the front scouts. When the projectile fell to the ground, broken by the impact, Mariam thought she could recognize an axe. Before the object hit the ground, the hit victim staggered back, the motorcyclist next to him lifted his sub-machine gun and the woman - for Mariam was now sure it was one - fired a shot from her big gun.

  The bang echoed far through the ruins of the city, half a second later two short salvos of the sub-machine gun mixed in and even before these noises had faded away, Wanda seemed to use her gun again. The one who had been hit at the helmet had quickly regained control and also lifted the weapon. He nodded to his comrade, and they both ran towards the church.

  The woman, who was left behind, fired two more shots and, as far as Mariam could interpret what she saw, kept her sights on the entrance area of the church. That's all Mariam could see. For twenty seconds the shooting and screaming continued. Individual shots mingled with the rattling of the sub-machine guns and by that Mariam knew that Wanda was still alive. Nevertheless, the images that drew the battle sounds in her head were terrible.

  Later, when Wanda, accompanied by a motorcyclist who was still wearing his helmet on his head and of whom only a few green eyes in deep cavities surrounded by wrinkles indicated his humanity, had returned and Mariam closed her arms around her, the girl could read in Wanda's face that it had been at least as bad as she had imagined. Notwithstanding this fact, Mariam found that Wanda was unharmed, except for a small wound on the back of her right hand. The Motorized scout untied Mahler´s legs and threw the carrying strap to Wanda without saying a w
ord. Then he led Mahler away and Wanda and Mariam followed them. They quickly left the church and Mariam tried to ignore the bodies of the degenerates, some of whom had been shot beyond recognition. She didn't succeed.

  "Eva? We're coming out now, hold your index finger still, all right?"

  "All right!"

  Mariam watched as the woman with the big sniper rifle leaned her gun up against her motorcycle and took off her helmet. Red, short-cut hair was to be seen. Then she pulled out a radio, like Robby had it with him, and gave a brief report. At least Mariam assumed that at that moment, because she couldn't understand exactly what the woman was saying. The other two scouts also took off their helmets, and one of them picked up the axe lying on the stones of the square. He turned it two or three times in his hand, then shrugged his shoulders and stowed it in the saddlebags of his machine. The green-eyed one was already gray at the temples and looked tired. Mariam wondered. Shouldn't he be excited? Shouldn't he be seen to have just risked his life? Instead, when they arrived at Eva's, he said in an emotionless voice:

  "They lied. Robby's not here. But Mahler is."

  Eva wasn't happy about it.

  "Take their weapons."

  Promptly the two of them lifted their sub-machine guns. Wanda obeyed without hesitation, even though Mariam could see that it was difficult for her. The antipathy with which Eva scrutinized Wanda was blatant and went far beyond simple mistrust. Wanda returned the look of the redhead with a stone face. To shorten the unpleasant situation, Mariam said:

  "This was my idea. With Robby, I mean. You wouldn't have come to help us otherwise, would you?"

  Mariam's words sounded more defiant and aggressive than she had intended. Eva turned to her without making a face and stretched out her hand.

  "Your gun."

  Mariam complied and handed over her weapon. Eva accepted it and let her gaze rest on Mariam until the girl was uncomfortable. Greeneyes spoke out.

  "Shall we tie them up?"

  Eva seemed to be thinking. Her gaze wandered back and forth between Doctor Mahler, Mariam and Wanda.

  "No. You're not going to try to run away or cause us any trouble, are you?"

  "No. We won't."

  It was Wanda who had answered and Mariam just nodded.

  "Good. I believe you. The others will be here soon. What hole did you drag the doctor from? Robby's dead, I take it?"

  "Not by our hand. He went into the school again. On his own. A friend of Mahler's got him."

  In a nutshell, Wanda told what had happened since the Motorized had left her and Mariam in Robbie's care. She didn't mention that she had given Robby that idea in the first place.

  "Why is this guy so important to you?"

  "None of your business. You can tell your story again, later when Armin gets here."

  Mariam knew that was the name of the black bearded man, the leader of the Motorized.

  Eva nodded to her two companions with a demanding gesture she was accustomed to.

  "Until they get here with the big cars, maybe we shouldn't hang out in the middle of the square."

  Again she nodded, but this time towards a small shop on the other side of the square. The three scouts pushed their machines there, the green-eyed one broke open the door and then stopped in front of the restaurant, while Axehead, as Mariam had baptized the other one for herself, subjected the premises to a quick search with the machine pistol at the ready. Half a minute later, Axehead gave his okay and called them in. They sat down in the second row at the tables and stared at each other.

  It took about twenty minutes to hear the deep hum of the truck engines. Mariam suspected that they might have had problems in some narrow places. Eva reported her current position by radio and waited for confirmation. Then she gave instructions to go out. The welcome was brief and painless. The black-bearded man climbed out of the front of the truck on the passenger's side, whose machine gun mounted on the roof was of course manned and secured the surroundings in slow circles, and then came up to them.

  In a nutshell, he expressed his delight that no one but Robby had been injured or killed, gave Wanda and Mariam a disparaging look, and then dragged Dr. Mahler behind him into the vehicle.

  Eva gave her two motorcycle comrades the order to saddle up.

  What about us? They don't want to leave us here without guns, do they?

  Mariam was about to open her mouth, but Eva beat her to it by turning around again and saying something in her walkie-talkie while her eyes rested on Wanda and Mariam. She waited for the answer then called her:

  "Stay here. Someone will pick you up."

  Wanda moved Mariam back to their seats. More to pass the time than to satisfy their need for protection, they searched the kitchen and armed themselves with knives. They didn't talk much. After plundering everything useful, Wanda used one of the knives to open a can of potato soup and another of red cabbage. They drank the soup before they ate.

  "Do you think they'll really come back?" Mariam asked.

  "Yes. They have all the trumps in the hand. They don't have to lie to us."

  Mariam found that Wanda was right in her assessment. Nevertheless, the almost two hours it took seemed very, very long to her. To bridge the waiting time, Mariam cleaned the wound on Wanda's hand, although it didn't need much care.

  "Just a graze with a crossbow. I shot that fucking bitch in the eye."

  Mariam smiled dutifully. She didn't like this side of Wanda. Then renewed engine noises, and a shabby green station wagon appeared at the opposite end of the square and slowly rolled towards them. They went outside and ran towards it.

  ***

  The Motorized had built their circle of wagons on the highest plateau of a quarry not far from the city. Wanda and Mariam had helped tear down some of the huts and wooden sheds. The fires that these people made were much larger than those that Wanda and Mariam usually allowed themselves. The sun had not quite set yet, and while Wanda was trying to get to know the individual members of this squad better and involve them in conversations, Mariam sat on the roof of the station wagon with which they had been brought, staring down the quarry.

  People were like that quarry, too.

  One visible surface and many, many layers underneath.

  Their weapons had not yet been returned to them. Yet Mariam was not afraid. Maybe Wanda was right when she said these people were strong. The driver of the station wagon had been nice. He had held out a plastic bottle of sparkling water, which Mariam liked a lot, to them without comment and had given Mariam a sincere smile. Mariam slipped in thought and time. She felt bad because she hadn't thought of Shepard for a long time and neither had she thought of Gustav. She felt bad about what she had done earlier this day, even though she knew it had been necessary. Sometime she emerged from her thoughts and noticed that Wanda stood in front of her.

  "Get off the car. They want to talk to us. This is our chance."

  "Our chance for what?"

  "Come."

  The black-bearded man was expecting them. Mariam could see that he was suspicious. At first, he fed them. No cans this time. Meat from rabbits that had been cooked over the fire and potatoes that tasted different than any potato Mariam had eaten before. She dressed this thought in words and for a tiny little moment something like pride seemed to surge up in the black bearded man.

  "Hunted by myself and the potatoes are from our own cultivation."

  "Tastes great," Mariam said. Own cultivation. That word sounded strange but fabulous and it meant that these people didn't keep moving all the time. It meant they had some kind of home.

  When they had finished eating, the black bearded man began to interrogate them. He wanted to know how long they had been together, where they had come from, whom they had met and how they had come here. He wanted to know exactly what had happened to Robby, why they hadn't just left Doctor Mahler alone after Robby had been shot and why they were so determined to stay close to the Motorized. Wanda answered all his questions. Tight and precise.


  "A group of the kind who chased us into the church captured us. Somebody broke us out. That was in Frankfurt. Then we found a connection to a camp, which was overrun a short time later by even more of these bastards. That's what I tried to tell you the first time we talked. We ended up in Heidelberg, but the people there were ... weak. Not as strong as you. I didn't see any future for us there, so we left after some time."

  It disturbed Mariam that Wanda simply dismissed Shepard as someone. But she didn't say anything.

  Wanda continued.

  "You, I mean, with you, if we could stay with you, we wouldn't have to be afraid anymore."

  Wanda put a vulnerable tone into her voice that Mariam had never heard before.

  "All well and good. And that's when you thought: If you bring us Mahler, you will improve your chances?"

  "Similarly, even though you didn't give us much hope in our first encounter. We wanted to show you that we could contribute."

  The black bearded man turned away for a moment and stared into the fire. Mariam used the opportunity to take a closer look at the bystanders and members of the troop sitting on the floor. Many listened with excitement, among them Eva, who did not let Wanda out of her sight.