by Mike Fosen
“Baby steps,” he reminded himself.
Maneuvering the bus around stalled vehicles, Dan managed to get through the cluttered streets and prepared to drive across the downtown area and again cross back over the Des Plaines River. Driving west down Jackson Street, Dan abruptly stopped the vehicle.
“I think we got a problem, guys,” Dan said without looking away from the street.
Chris walked forward to look out the windshield. Ahead of them appeared to be a roadblock at the railroad viaduct that the road passed under near Scott Street. Several armed people stood on the other side with their weapons trained on them, and they didn’t look friendly. The armed men also ignored several zombies, who clawed helplessly at their roadblock.
“Back up slowly; don’t do anything to spook them,” Chris warned.
“Nice and easy,” Stephen added. “But if they start something, I’m going to unload a world of hurt on them.”
Dan did so and backed up to where he could safely turn the bus around.
“Who the hell were they?” Dan asked. “And when did they show up?”
“I have no idea,” Chris replied. “But they didn’t look like they wanted to be our friends.”
“I didn’t see anybody yesterday,” Stephen remarked while keeping his eyes trained on the men. “But several zombies were headed this way. You guys didn’t see anybody when you went looking for us a couple days ago?”
“That’s a big negative,” Dan answered. “Looks like we will have to find another bridge to cross.”
Stephen was now up by Chris near the front of the bus with his rifle at the ready. “Take it slow, buddy. We don’t need to run into any more surprises.”
“I second that,” Chris added.
All three of the men suddenly flinched as a zombie slammed into the door of the school bus and began to claw at the seal. He was immediately joined by two others.
“Jesus Christ,” Chris said. “Those assholes always show up out of nowhere.”
“Let’s roll, Dan,” Stephen added. “We can cross farther south.”
Dan made his way towards the next bridge crossing and carefully approached. As he grew near the river, Dan abruptly braked to a halt in front of a small brick store front.
“Champions Pawn Shop,” Dan read aloud.
He frantically fished inside his front pants pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
“That’s where my bitch girlfriend pawned my grand pappy’s pistol!” he brayed. "She was back on the dope for sure if she pawned it on the east side of Joliet.”
Dan threw the bus in park and would have run out of the bus and into the store until Chris grabbed his arm and stopped him.
“Dan, we have to go get Mike and Mattie," Chris reasoned. "If your gun is inside then it will still be there when we get back. I’ll even help you pick it up later.”
Dan looked longingly at the building and muttered to himself, “I knew she was back doing drugs, thieving whore!”
He angrily closed the bus door and threw himself in the seat.
“Do it for Mattie, Dan,” Stephen said with a chuckle. “Your gun’s not going anywhere.”
“Fine!”
Putting the bus into gear, Dan slammed down the accelerator and sped away and across the bridge.
* * * * * * * *
I sat in the morning sun in front of a window, drinking a cup of coffee. My nasty head wound had all but healed, and I felt good to go.
This few days of rest had done us a world of good. We were ready to move out.
Staring out the small front door window at the increasing number of those damned infected bastards, I couldn’t help but think that the longer this went on, the less of us there were left to fight back. It seemed as if they tracked by sound, and possibly scent, and once one discovered you, others zeroed in and swarmed your location in minutes. That was why the front yard of the house was now littered with bloated stinking corpses with crushed skulls. After my shootout to cover Stephen, we tried not to use our firearms. Mattie would get their attention, and I would sneak out the back, come around front, and dispatch them with my bat.
“Remind me to thank Stephen for grabbing it,” I told Mattie.
It was messy but effective and good exercise. Satisfied that we were secure in the residence, I broke one of Stephen’s rules and didn’t post a guard last night, and Mattie and I both got good night’s sleep.
Stephen promised to be back soon with Chris and Dan, provided he made it. Mattie thought she heard some shooting to the east a few hours after he left, and we decided that that was probably a good thing. I had complete confidence that Stephen had arrived safely at the prison.
“Finding anyone else still alive, now that would be a welcome sign,” I decided.
My stomach pulled me from my daydream, suddenly reminding me of all the chili I had been eating, and I rushed to the bathroom in the nick of time.
Walking back out into the main living room several painful minutes later, Mattie was sitting up rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“Phew, what is that stink?” she asked.
“Zombies,” I answered with a shrug.
“What time is it? And how long do you think it’s going to take for them to get here?” Mattie asked.
“It’s still early, and it won’t be long,” I replied. “Let’s just make sure we are ready.”
Shortly after, we heard sustained shooting coming from the east and figured that they were on their way.
“It sounds like Stephen made it!” Mattie cried, her eyes filling with tears.
By the time Dan’s bus came rolling around the corner, the two of us were sitting outside on top of a pile of boxes like kids going to school. Dan screeched to a stop next to us and opened the boarding doors.
“Hey folks, you all need a lift?” he asked.
Mattie cheerfully stepped onto the bus and gave Dan a hug.
“I’m so glad you guys are alright. I missed you both!” Mattie said with happiness as she boarded the bus with the first load of supplies.
“Yeah, we sure missed you too, Mattie,” Dan replied while looking at her ass in the mirror and started to close the bus door on me.
Bastard would have done it too if I hadn’t stuck my arm into the way to keep it from closing. He even gave the door lever a few more forceful pulls, then he tried to act all surprised when I cleared my throat.
“Oh sorry, Mike, I didn’t see you standing there! Good to see ya guy,” he said with a grin and popped a fresh cigar into his mouth.
Stephen and Chris bailed out the back of the bus and were now engaging several zombies that were closing in from all sides.
“Fuckers never quit coming, do they?” I remarked as I boarded the bus with another load of goodies.
It took us a few minutes to throw in the new supplies, but now with us all loaded, Dan closed the doors and got the bus turned around.
“We would’ve been here a lot sooner,” Chris said, “but there’s a group of survivors inside the downtown area that have a lot of it barricaded off.”
“Yeah, they didn’t look very friendly either," Dan added. "Just mean mugged us with guns pointed our way. We were pretty much forced to detour around them.”
“Interesting,” I replied. “I wonder who they are and what they’re up to.”
“It’ll be worth looking into,” Stephen said. “Especially if they are going to be living just down the road.”
While Dan backtracked the bus using the route he came, Mattie again filled him and Chris in on what happened at the safe zone after they left for the prison. She relayed in detail its collapse from the massive zombie horde, and how it was finally destroyed. Both Dan and Chris whistled in unison at the explosion part of her story.
“Sounds like a military airstrike for sure,” Chris said with authority. “I wonder who put them up to it.”
Chris started asking me detailed questions as well, and I cut him off by holding my hand up.
“You’re asking t
he wrong guy, Chris,” I said, all the while pointing at the ugly bruise still on my head. “I was busy getting my brains scrambled by a door and a falling porch at that time. One thing I haven’t forgotten is that we left Frank, the bridge tender, here several weeks ago and I want to check on him.”
Soon we crossed over the river and made a stop at the bridge operator’s building. After pounding on the door for several minutes, I was greeted by Frank, who was overjoyed and very surprised to see me. This time it took no convincing at all to get him to come back to the prison with us. He had used up most of his food and had been running out of options and more importantly, hope. Frank was all smiles as he boarded the school bus and shook everyone's hand, including a reluctant Dan.
"Told you I would come back for ya!" I chided.
"I-I still just can't believe it!” Frank stammered. “Thought I was a goner."
Shortly thereafter, we came across the street that had been barricaded under the railroad viaduct. I had to admit that whoever it was, they had picked a good spot to block the street. Elevated tracks sat atop an earthen berm and provided a natural barricade against the undead along their eastern flank. They had the river on their west and only had to block off a few side streets to seal off several square blocks of territory.
Stephen told Dan to stop to check it out, as we could see several people on the other side.
“I am going to go talk to them,” he said. "Cover me."
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Chris asked.
“We need to see what they are up to,” Stephen answered. “Like it or not we may need their help or need to trade for supplies with them one day. Now if they shoot at me, kill ’em all! ”
Exiting the bus with his hands held out to the sides, Stephen approached the barricade cautiously. A guard on the other side told him to halt and demanded to know what he wanted.
“Just wanted to introduce ourselves is all,” Stephen replied loudly for all to hear. “We’ve got a compound to the north of here and wanted to talk to whoever is in charge, see if we can help each other out.”
The guard said something to the man next to him, who hopped into a truck and drove away northbound.
“You’d want to speak with Father Kettle then,” the man replied sternly. “He should be here in a bit.”
Stephen tried to make small talk with the guard while they waited, but every time he tried the man just ignored him or asked him to wait for Father Kettle. The man did allow Stephen to hop over the barricade and stand just inside. Eventually the truck returned and a slender man in his early forties, dressed in clergy robes, exited the vehicle and approached him. He was of average height and weight and his thinning brown hair nearly reached his shoulders. The man spoke a few words to the guard who replied and nodded his head towards Stephen. He next touched the guard on the shoulder, stepped past him and walked up to Stephen.
“Greetings, good sir, what is it I can do for you? My name is Father Kettle,” the man said.
“My name is Stephen, and we wanted to introduce ourselves and see if we can work together for protection and supply purposes.”
Father Kettle nodded and looked past him to the bus.
“An unusual mode of transportation, but in these biblical times we must make do with what we can. I take it you have companions inside, yes?”
When Stephen said that he did, Father Kettle continued, “Well then, bring them out. I would love to meet them.”
Stephen turned and called us to come up and introduce ourselves. We climbed over the barricade and gathered behind Stephen. He introduced Chris to Kettle and then me. I tried not to crush his hand, but a man can tell a lot about another by the way he shook hands. Kettle had the grip of a girl, all limp and weak, and his eyes were narrow and shifty. As I let go I could also see a glimmer of hatred in his eyes as he worked his sore fingers.
When Dan was introduced, he just stared at Kettle for a few seconds.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Dan asked, still not offering his hand.
Father Kettle seemed surprised. “I do not believe so, young man. I am not from this area and have only settled down here due to the current tragedy that has plagued mankind due to his evil ways.”
Dan’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t forget a face, and I know I seen yours someplace.”
“Could be that you have seen me on television preaching sermons,” Father Kettle offered. “I am, after all, a man of the cloth.”
“Doubt it was that,” Dan replied. “Only TV I watched was Fox News or porn. So which one did I see you on?”
Kettle seemed disturbed at that. “You need to come to my sermon, son, every night at the former St. Joseph’s cathedral. You definitely need it.”
“That’s where you have set up shop?” Stephen asked.
“Why yes,” Kettle replied. “I was passing through town on a missionary tour when God set this plague lose upon mankind. I found the church abandoned and have since made it my home.”
“You really think God has anything to do with this?” Mattie asked. “Because a lot of innocent people have died, including little children.”
When Kettle gazed upon Mattie, the man’s demeanor abruptly changed.
He went from a seemingly kindly priestly man to something slightly off kilter.
“Oh my, what a beauty you are, my dear,” Kettle said as he held Mattie’s hand with both of his.
"Thank you, Father,” Mattie replied gracefully.
Kettle’s eyes scanned appreciatively down Mattie’s physique, drinking in her shapely body.
“And to answer your question, yes I do,” Kettle continued. “If you read from the Old Testament you will find many examples of God punishing the unbelievers, man, woman and child.”
Stephen decided it was a good time to butt in. “Well, we must be going. It was a pleasure meeting you. We will have to stop by for a visit later on.”
Kettle was still staring at Mattie and holding her hand.
“Yes indeed, it was a pleasure. You are definitely invited to return to join me personally for a private session,” he replied while staring into Mattie’s eyes.
Kettle let go of her hand and stepped back. “You all are welcome to join with us in prayer at our church or even join forces with us here. It is quite safe and secure.”
I reached over and pulled Mattie behind me as Kettle stared at her intently.
“Thank you. You have been most kind,” I said, trying to let the preacher down gently, “but we need to see to our other group members, talk it over with them and see what they want to do.”
“The invitation will stand,” Father Kettle replied before leaving. “God be with you! Guards, see that these fine travelers depart unmolested by the soulless demons that surround our sanctuary.”
Several of Kettle’s men opened fire at several zombies who had gathered around our van. I had to admit that they were decent shots, and I would not want to exchange rounds with them if I could help it. As we piled onto the bus and drove away, we all tried to talk at once.
“What the fuck was that?” Stephen asked.
I said he shook hands like a sissy, and I didn’t buy into his doctrine. Dan tried to guess where he saw Kettle before as he drove, coming up with one wrong guess after another. Mattie said she was totally freaked out by him. Stephen gave us a detailed description of the weapons the guards were using, mentioning that the one guard was using a PTR-91.
“You’re the only one here who knows what that is,” I reminded him.
Chris was the least impressed and instead said he was hungry and didn't give a shit about the freak. The matter was quickly forgotten by us all as the large stone prison came into view ten minutes later.
"Our new home at last," I told Mattie with a gentle rub of her shoulder. “With any luck we will have an opportunity to settle in and get some normalcy back.
* * * * * * * *
Back at the church in his personal quarters, Kettle turned to the five hard looking men standing before him
.
“I do hope they decide to join us,” Kettle said excitedly. “In the meantime, in case they don’t, I want you five to follow them. Study their compound and learn their strengths and weaknesses. Most of all, when you get the opportunity, I want you to bring the woman, Mattie, to me, if possible. Do not harm a hair on her head. I want to purge her of her evil unclean thoughts. After I am finished with her you five can do with her as you please.”
The five men all wore wicked evil grins at the thought as they knelt in front of Kettle for their blessings before embarking on their mission. As they filed out the door, Kettle called out an order to the last man.
“Send in the redhead that was brought in yesterday.”
A short time later, the struggling woman was dragged into his chambers and thrown onto the bed. The young woman began to cry and plead for mercy as she was tied to the bed posts.
"What’s your name, young lady?" Kettle asked with a soothing voice. "Don't be afraid, dear! I am here to pray with you."
"My name is Holly, sir," the beautiful young thing replied. "Please don't hurt me! I’ve been through so much. I was trapped in my car for days when this all started, and I barely escaped the high school before it exploded. I’ve lost everyone and everything, please sir, show me some mercy."
Kettle immediately began to feel aroused as he approached the bed and stroked the whimpering woman’s bare leg.
Yes, he thought, so many sinful women to be purged of their wicked ways. It is a sign from God that I was spared death to save them all. Mattie was so full of sin, it was all I could do not to take her right there in the street.
As Kettle prepared to cleanse the sobbing woman, in his mind’s eye all he could see was Mattie.