Z.E.D.S. Series (Book 2): Z.E.D.S. Wayward Son

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Z.E.D.S. Series (Book 2): Z.E.D.S. Wayward Son Page 20

by Botts, Bradley


  “How do you know my name,” I asked.

  “There is only one thing I love more than a chiseled man, and that’s one who served,” Debra said as she pointed at my dog tags.

  The curtain closed behind Debra, and two younger women entered clothed in white dresses no longer than their knees presenting their petite curves. Their black hair rested on their shoulders with no disguise to their other womanly attributes. I got a hint of their scent as they placed their arms around me to help me stand. Lilac and lavender surrounded them. As one stood in front of me with her hands on my waist, the other walked to the chair and grabbed my clothes. I gripped the sheet tighter so it wouldn’t slip from my hand.

  “My name is Serenity, and this is Gretchen,” she said with an English accent as she stood in front of me.

  Serenity’s African complexion embraced beauty. Her lips were full and lush with her skin appearing smooth to the touch as her hand grazed my arm. I noticed Gretchen constantly moving her eyes up and down while staring at me. Her freckles brought out the indigo in her eyes that could pierce through a man’s soul.

  “Atlas, you have to let go of the sheet in order for us to help you dress,” Serenity said.

  “I believe I can do this on my own. You ladies can go.”

  Serenity smiled and said, “Now don’t be bashful. We are only here to help. We have done seen everything you got because we had to help Debra when you first got here. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I’m not ashamed, I just don’t know if I’m comfortable with this,” I mumbled.

  “We are not going to try anything.” A slight pause became apparent. “Unless you want us to,” Gretchen said behind her northern Kentucky accent.

  I turned to Gretchen and asked,” Are all the women here on the perverted side of humanity?”

  “We can’t express ourselves like this without The Reverend’s permission. It is very seldom that we come across an attractive man such as yourself. Since you’re new here, and he is nowhere in sight, we are going to take advantage of it,” Gretchen said while placing her face closer to mine. “Can I touch your scars?”

  I leaned away from her and said, “Well, I won’t tell The Reverend, but you are making me a little uncomfortable, so I would like to ask if you would please stop.”

  “The things I can do will have you begging me not to stop,” Gretchen whispered.

  “Gretchen, that’s enough. He said we are making him uncomfortable. If The Mark doesn’t want to fertilize with you then you can’t force it. You have to be chosen,” Serenity said.

  I looked at Serenity and asked, “Did you just call me “The Mark?”

  “Drop the sheet,” Serenity said.

  “What do you mean by The Mark,” I asked.

  Gretchen quickly pulled the sheet from my grip, and I covered myself with my hands. Gretchen dropped my pants near Serenity and Gretchen walked behind me. I could feel Gretchen steadily kneeling behind me trying to serenate me with her warm breath on my back. Her fingertips glided down my skin and Serenity kneeled allowing her hands to graze the sides of my legs. Her hands moved from my legs once she arrived at my ankles.

  “Lift please,” Serenity asked. They brought my pants to my hands and Serenity looked up at me. “In order for me to get your pants to your waist, you have to move your hands.”

  “You can lift it a little passed my hands and I will take it from there,” I explained.

  “If that is what you wish then that is what we will do,” Serenity said.

  They continued to carefully dress me and put on my boots. I was being constantly touched and gracefully grazed with each article of clothing. Once they were done, they escorted me out of the tent and on the other side Debra was waiting for me.

  “Just let us know when we can be more of service to you,” Gretchen said as she pinched my butt cheek and walked away.

  “I hope my girls were very helpful,” Debra said.

  “They were a bit eccentric,” I exclaimed.

  “Yea, they have their moments where they have no filter.” Debra cautiously wrapped her arm around mine and began to lead me down a walkway. “Follow me Atlas. We have things to talk about before The Reverend meets you.”

  “I have two questions I need you to answer for me before you start explaining this place.”

  “Ask away handsome.”

  “Who is The Reverend and why did those women call me The Mark?”

  Debra smiled and explained, “The story of The Reverend will have to be answered by him. He doesn’t mind sharing his story if he is the one to share it. As for calling you The Mark, I can only give you a cliff note because he wants to explain that to you as well. But once The Reverend arrived here, he told a story of how he found this place. He said there was an angel that placed the route in front of him and he would once again meet this angel.”

  “Meet an angel? What does that mean,” I asked.

  “He said that he was lost and couldn’t find the right path. After days of searching a sign was bluntly placed in front of him that showed him where he was supposed to go. He believes that an angel placed it there. He prayed every day that he would have the opportunity to thank this angel.”

  “I’m confused. What does that have to do with me,” I asked.

  “Like I said, that is something he will have to explain to you. But now it’s my turn to ask some questions if you don’t mind.”

  “Ok,” I said.

  “So where are you from?”

  A silent moment fell upon us. I could not allow anyone to know anything more about me than they already knew. Warren’s people knew my name but not many knew my face.

  “I’m from Kansas. I traveled to Kentucky after my tour was over to help teach at the ROTC in Lexington,” I lied.

  “Oh wow, I haven’t heard the name Lexington in a long time. So how did you end up toward the southern part of the state,” Debra asked.

  I had to be careful in choosing my answer.

  “Once the virus struck, Lexington was overrun with skin eaters. Resources vanished almost instantly. During one of my classes, I remember a cadet talking about this town called Tompkinsville located toward the southern part of Kentucky. He described it as a low populated community. I figured if one place hadn’t been completely taken over it would be that town.”

  Debra continued walking with her arm wrapped around mine. “Did the Red Death affect you during your travels,” Debra asked.

  “The Red Death,” I asked.

  “Oh yes. It was a very unfamiliar disease that reacted to people’s way of thinking logically and acting on instinct. It turned their eyes a crimson tone and forced them to go after what they truly desired the most. It caused many people to commit the most horrific crimes,” Debra answered. “I spent days working through my plants to find what could counterbalance the chemicals released in the brain. I finally came across this exceedingly rare plant that provided me with the proper components to cure it.”

  “That sounds like you guys had a pretty rough go with it,” I replied.

  “Oh yes. I made extra to keep in our armory in case it comes back. We don’t need another Red October,” Debra said. “So, tell me how was Tompkinsville when you came through? We haven’t ventured that way in so long we don’t know much about our neighbors.

  “It was gone. Looked like a nuke had went off in the center of it,” I answered.

  “Word came through that the community had been completely wiped out. We had no idea why, but we were told it didn’t exist anymore,” Debra explained. “A lot of people here had family there. It was just heartbreaking news. I hoped it wasn’t true.”

  Other survivors from Tompkinsville could mean familiar faces. My story of Lexington would be exposed. As much as I would love to see some possible members of my hometown, I knew I had to avoid them.

  “So, what’s your story Debra? How did you end up here in Gamaliel,” I asked.

  “You don’t want to hear an old maid’s tale,” Debra replie
d.

  “Sure, I do. Stories fascinate me.”

  “Well, me and my husband Randall moved here from Wisconsin about ten years ago. We came down to be with our son Casey when he had an accident while tending farmland. He fell off his tractor and was pulled underneath it. The right-side big wheel ran over his spine paralyzing him from the waist down,” Debra explained.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” I sympathized.

  “It was a hard time for us. Randall spent all his time staying with Casey, slowly watching him fade away more and more each day. When the zombies came, we hid in an old fire station for a week. Our home was looted and burned to the ground.” Debra paused. “Some type of irony with that one.”

  “Where is your family now.” I asked.

  “Randall took ill not too long ago. He faded into a sleep that he didn’t wake up from. I’m glad he went peacefully. Casey didn’t make it out of the firehouse. My boy was eaten alive by those horrible monsters.”

  “I am sorry for your loss. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” I sympathized.

  “That was a long time ago. I do miss them every single day, but I try not to live in what was. I survive in what is. Now I am a part of this wonderful place where I can heal with using the earth and my awesome personality.”

  Debra stopped walking once we reached the square. A dark shadow casted over us. The hair on my arms transformed to a brittle spike. “Here is a statue that was erected when The Reverend came. He was our salvation in a damned world,” Debra explained.

  I focused my eyes to the wooden vine-covered statue. The cracks within the grain of the dark cedar caused the illusion of a bleeding man. The eyes were sculpted to follow you everywhere you walked. The statue was to represent a symbol of a safe haven, but the pit of my stomach cringed to the sight of it.

  “That’s a very interesting statue,” I said behind my vomit that I forced back down my throat.

  “Are you okay; do you need to sit down,” Debra asked.

  “I’m fine. Just a bit woozy. So, how did The Reverend rescue this town,” I asked.

  “He brought with him the word of God in which gave us hope. He helped rebuild homes, restore energy through the creek flow, provided seeds to grow in a garden for food. He came and helped us live again. We also obtain a little help from an outsider who watches over this place as well. You will get to meet him soon.” Debra said while a smile showcased on her face.

  “So where is The Reverend now,” I asked.

  Debra pointed to a two-story courthouse in a clearing surrounded by red rose bushes. “He is in the main court room on the second floor. He is very eager to meet you,” Debra said. “I’ll escort you there.”

  My eyes wandered around the town as we stepped towards the courthouse. Every building seemed clean on the outside. Red cobblestone surrounded the outer edges of the road with orange fruit trees growing in multiple places. The road was divided with separate gardens of different vegetables. Each person walking was either glaring at me or whispering as I passed by. Women were giggling and the men were placing their hands together at their chest as if they were beginning to pray. Small gardens surrounded by beaten logs were placed down the sides of the road, and kids were picking fresh produce. There wasn’t a care in the world when it comes to these people. They wore smiles and no baggage. I turned to my right and saw a woman sitting on a concrete stoop, watching as I walked past her. She placed two fingers to her forehead and presented a subtle wave.

  “Who is that,” I asked.

  “Oh, that is Karmen. That’s the girl who brought you to us.” Debra informed. “You will get the chance to meet her formally a little later.”

  Her gaze never left me. I could feel the stare in the back of my mind as we kept walking.

  The front staircase to the courthouse was outlined with symbolic markings. The lines intertwined with each other, and although they looked familiar my mind could not recognize where I had seen them before.

  “Right this way sir,” a tall, brute, dark toned guard said while standing at the base of the door.

  “Thank you, Lyle,” Debra said as her arm left mine. “This is where I leave you. Lyle will take you the rest of the way. Once you are done speaking with The Reverend, come find me because we have a surprise for you.”

  “What kind of surprise,” I asked.

  “Well now if I told you then it wouldn’t be one would it?”

  Debra patted my forearm with her hand before stepping away from me, and Lyle guided me through the wood stained doors. They creaked open and showcased a room full of books and old paintings hanging on the walls. Each book was marked with pieces of crimson red or teal blue tape. Each painting addressed different war times within our past, The Alamo, Civil War, WW2, Desert Storm and The Crusades. The Crusades was the only one marked with the blue tape while the rest were red. Each painting was in prestige condition, no rips or tares of any kind. They survived well for being through the Zombie Apocalypse. I walked over to a book marked with the crimson tape and it was titled To Kill a Mockingbird. I remember having to do a book report about it in high school, and I loved the movie adaptation to it. It was a great story of compassion and faults of society which ended in a horrible circumstance. But the book showed a moral code in which most should live by.

  Lyle stood at the edge of another staircase patiently waiting for me to join him. I placed the book in my side pocket away from his sight and walked towards him. His finger stayed calm on the trigger of his AR15, but his stance was strict of a soldier’s demeanor.

  “What branch did you serve Lyle,” I asked as we walked up the stairs.

  “Navy Seals sir. Based out of Quantico,” Lyle replied. “Yourself?”

  “US Army Rangers in Kansas. Transferred to Kentucky before this all started,” I lied.

  “Hopefully, you got to see more of it before all of this happened. Kentucky used to be a beautiful place. I was assigned to a case here with the NCIS. I fell in love with the countryside. I was going to retire here once my service ended, but God wanted it to be sooner than I planned,” Lyle replied.

  “Was you here when the virus hit,” I asked.

  “No sir. I was in Virginia when everything went to Hell. The Naval base was overrun and only a few of us made it out alive. Unfortunately, I was the only one to make it here. The rest died during our travels,” Lyle explained. “There were bandits up and down the back roads from here to Virginia. We were transporting women, children, and wounded but the bandits had no moral standards when it comes to humanity. They robbed, captured and killed anything that came down their path.”

  “How did you survive all of that,” I asked.

  “The same way you have sir. Pure dumb luck and military training,” Lyle said.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more brother.”

  “Here we are. The Reverend is just beyond those doors. He is expecting you sir,” Lyle said.

  “Thank you and please quit calling me sir. We are both just trying to survive in this world. Formalities should be the least of anyone’s worries. Call me Atlas,” I said.

  “Okay Atlas. Just a heads up about The Reverend. He is a handful at first, but once you are around him for a decent length of time, you’ll learn to look past the quirks,” Lyle warned. “He is a religious nut. I believe in God and everything, but he takes it a step farther if you know what I mean.”

  “I got you brother,” I said as our fists clashed together.

  Lyle struck the door three times before stepping away. The knocks echoed through the entire courthouse. The door unlocked and creaked open. I was greeted by a fair young lady dressed in clergy attire.

  “Oh, my lord. You look just as I imagined,” the woman said beneath her breath. “Mr. Atlas, we are so excited that you have come to join us here at our community. The tales of a savior are true, and he is here with us.”

  “I’m sorry, a savior,” I asked.

  “Michelle dear, let the man through. No need in scaring him off before I
get to meet him,” a man’s voice echoed from behind the door.

  “Oh, forgive me. I’m just so flustered. Please come in,” Michelle said as the door opened further.

  I cautiously stepped in the room as Michelle followed behind me. A tall bay window at the far end of the room allowed the sun to brighten every corner. The room resembled the same layout as the downstairs corridor. Paintings and books were on the wall, each marked with the same colored tape as downstairs. A gargantuan desk rested near the bay window with velvet curtains. The dark stained walls allowed paintings and more books to rest. A man in a long preacher’s coat stood near the glass window. As we have all seen in almost every movie, when the main character meets an important figure for the first time and we’re trying to decide if he is evil or righteous, they are always standing at the far end of the room with their arms crossed behind their back. This man displayed the same stature as the questionable figures in the now destroyed movies of figuratively innocent times.

  “Reverend. Mr. Atlas is here for you,” Michelle said.

  “I know Michelle, thank you my dear. You may leave us now,” The Reverend said.

  Michelle had a disappointed look on her face before turning and walking out of the room closing the doors behind her. I stood staring at The Reverend as he turned from the window and faced me. His streaks of grey hair shimmered from the beams of sunlight. His skin was aged to look as a 50-year-old man from the retired state of Florida. His smile towards me declared a sign of relief.

  “I have prepared myself for this for many years. Since I became a clergy member after the death of my wife, I had dreamed of salvation and prayed for mercy every night. I had always thought that this world’s end of days would come by man’s hand, but only wished God would beat them to it. I knew it was going to be a close race between the two. If man destroyed this world, I prayed God would rebuild it to become another Garden of Eden. If God ended this world, I prayed it to never exist again. If I were to live to see the end of days, I prayed for a chance to leave my mark and save the wicked before claiming my mansion in the kingdom,” The Reverend rambled.

 

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