Caldera | Book 12 | Kingdom Come

by Stallcup, Heath

  She glanced down to the arm and smirked. “I never even asked your name.” She lifted the bones to her lips and sucked a ribbon of tendon into her mouth, using her teeth to scrape the flesh from the tough, fibrous tissue.

  “Well, come on then, Jerry.” She slipped away from the window and padded back to the top of the stairs. She planted her feet in the same indentations she had made in the carpet earlier and squatted again, ready to launch herself at whatever came through the door.

  Jedidiah pressed his hand to the door of the theater again and felt the unease of his army. The angel’s words had shaken him, but in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, he had already seen the truth that was laid out before him.

  There could be no survivors; not even him.

  He had always known that his soldiers would have to be sacrificed. They were too far gone to be suffered in the new world. But somewhere in the back of his mind a tiny glimmer of hope shone, a pinpoint beacon. He so wanted to see the utopia that the Lord had planned for this giant blue marble.

  With the revelation passed on to him, he realized that his desires didn’t matter, and neither did his timing. They were the Lord’s tool, and in the Lord’s capable hand. They were only the means to the end. No matter what he did, the plan would be seen through. The heathens would be cleansed from the Earth and the Lord would start anew.

  He didn’t have to wait for the moon to be full. He didn’t have to wait for the perfect plan. He needed only to do the Lord’s bidding; He would see that each soldier was utilized to their fullest purpose.

  He sighed and pressed his eyes closed. Waiting for the right moment was arrogant and shortsighted. The time was nigh.

  21

  “Did Donna and the kid take off okay?” Roger asked as he loaded another magazine.

  Trevor nodded. “One of the new people, a biker dude, said they were camping up by Santa Fe.” He set the loaded magazine down and reached for an empty to load. “We ate with them last night, and he painted a pretty cool picture. I think they’re gonna head north and check it out.”

  Roger paused and gave Trevor a cautious look. “Did they…say anything else?”

  Simon shrugged as he reached for another empty magazine. “Not really.” He paused and stared off for a moment. “Oh yeah, that Simon got shanked by his Rager girlfriend, and they brought him here to get patched up.” He refused to make eye contact as he continued to press cartridges into the magazine. “But that was about it.”

  Roger sighed and set the magazine down. “Look, Trevor. I know you and Simon have history.”

  “We all have history with him.” He continued loading and avoiding eye contact. “You especially.”

  Roger nodded as he picked up another handful of cartridges. “With what happened between you and Donna though…” He watched the man carefully for any adverse reaction.

  Trevor finally turned and looked at him. “I can’t blame him for what happened between us. If anything, I should be thanking him. He’s the one that put me and her together.”

  Roger raised a brow. “Yeah, but…”

  He shrugged. “I split that blame squarely between both Donna and me. She should have told me how she felt, and I should have asked. Instead, we both went through the motions like we were meant to be together.” He set the loaded magazine on the table and took a deep breath. “Yeah, we started out rough but when we came back together?” He broke into a toothy grin. “We probably wouldn’t have given each other the time of day if we hadn’t been married once before.”

  Roger chuckled and shook his head. “It sounds like you two really did some soul searching.”

  “We did.” He glanced toward the infirmary and smiled. “I still hate Simon. He’s a twisted son of a bitch.” His face hardened and his eyes went dead. “What he did to Brandy’s mom…”

  “We got nothing,” a man stated from the open door. “We walked the perimeter twice, and it’s like Jerry sprouted wings and flew off.”

  Roger cursed under his breath. “Find Hatcher and give him your report. If he needs me, let him know we’re here in the armory.”

  “Copy that.”

  Trevor snorted. “Notice they never say, ‘roger that?’” His grin widened. “At least, not to you.”

  “Shut up.” He shoulder checked the shorter man as he turned and picked up another can of military grade ammunition.

  Trevor held the round up and looked at it in the light. “Are these things really that nasty?”

  Roger nodded. “They’ll shoot through the wall, the person behind the wall, the wall behind the person, and probably through the guy standing in the garage.” He raised his brows at him. “Armor piercing is good for going through things.”

  “So, fuck you, your buddy, and the rest of the guys in the tank with you.”

  Roger snorted. “Not that kind of armor, but yeah.” He stretched his neck and glanced to the window. “You ever hear somebody say ‘it’s a little too quiet?’” He grimaced as he turned back to the task at hand. “I’m feeling that way right about now.”

  “You, sir, are taking Brandy’s intuition a little too literally.”

  “You sent her away, remember?”

  Trevor nodded. “If she feels that strongly about something, I’m not going to force her. She needs to know that I’ve always got her back.” He gave Roger a crooked grin. “Even if I don’t agree with her.”

  “So you think she’s full of crap?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He paused and thought about the little girl for a moment. “I mean, if she ever feels strongly about something, I’ll support her desires. As long as it doesn’t put her or anybody else at risk and…” he trailed off. “I just need her to know that I’m there. Supporting her.”

  Roger thought of Candy and his child growing inside her. “Yeah, I get it. My kid is months away and I already would do anything for him.” He paused and chuckled. “Or her.”

  “Pray it’s not a little girl.” Trevor tried to stay straight faced. “She’ll have you wrapped around her little finger.”

  Roger grinned at him. “She already does.”

  Lieutenant Davis kept his head on a swivel as he navigated the big SUV through the streets. He avoided the abandoned vehicles where they appeared piled up, and took side roads when he could to skirt any areas that looked like they could be used as a trap.

  Carol didn’t miss the fact that his face was stoic and that he barely spoke. She was turned in the front seat, leaning against the door. She glanced back to Andre, who seemed to be trying too hard not to stare at the soldier. She caught his eye and gave him a knowing look. Andre simple shrugged.

  She turned back toward Davis and tried to keep her voice low. “Are we okay?”

  He nodded slightly. “For the moment. I can only see a few blocks ahead, but I’m not seeing anything that worries me.”

  She sighed and leaned closer, lowering her voice even more. “That’s not what I meant.”

  He gave her a furtive glance then turned his attention back to the road. “I don’t follow.”

  She cleared her throat and tried to choose her words wisely. “I’m sure you heard Dr. Broussard and I last night.”

  He nodded. “I’m glad you two made up.” His voice was very matter of fact.

  “Are you?” She leaned forward, trying to see his reaction. “Really?”

  He nodded again. “My job is difficult enough when people are all getting along.” He shook his head slightly and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “When there’s friction, it just adds to the job.”

  She leaned back and studied him, unsure if she believed him. “It just seems that you’re a bit…more distant today than you were last night.”

  He nodded slightly. “We have a couple of large towns to get through today.” He gave her another quick glance. “Since you want to avoid the larger cities, I need to concentrate on getting us through them as quickly as possible. It would be much faster to go through them than around.”

&nbs
p; She nodded slightly as she sat back, her eyes still searching his face for any other signs. “Maybe we plan on driving through to Truth or Consequences before we allow ourselves the distraction of looking for survivors?”

  He nodded slightly. “That would be good. The closer we get to the Rio Grande, the better I’ll feel.” He gave her a weak smile. “But be aware, we’ll probably have to stop before then to scrounge for gas.”

  “Roger that.” She gave him a thumbs up and leaned back in her seat. “I’m learning the lingo.” Davis stiffened and leaned forward, his foot pressing on the brake. “What’s wrong?”

  He nodded ahead. “We got incoming.” He slowed the hulking SUV and pulled it to the side of the road. He shut off the engine, and the others caught the reflection of sunlight from the windshield of another vehicle. “You wanted to contact survivors…”

  Carol nodded as she reached for the door handle. “I didn’t expect it to be on the highway, though.”

  Simon chuckled at the movie playing and sipped at his second bowl of soup. He almost missed Veronica standing in the doorway, giving him a dirty look. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He reached to the side and picked up the tuna sandwich. “Lunch?”

  Derek flustered and came to his feet. “I’m sorry; he said to let you sleep.”

  “I was hungry, and Doc here made me food.”

  “Why are you sitting there like nothing happened?” she asked, stepping into the room.

  Simon sighed and his shoulders slumped. “I had to move, Vee. That mattress was killing me.”

  “You rip your sutures and you’ll kill yourself.” She fluffed the pillows on the bed and straightened the blanket, pulling it back for him to enter again.

  He sat in the recliner and gave her a sad face. “Can I finish lunch first? It took a lot of effort to move here and…” he glanced to Derek, hoping he’d come to his rescue, “and it’s easier to eat sitting up than laying down.”

  “You shouldn’t be eating solid foods like this.” She glared at Derek. “What were you thinking?”

  He shrugged. “He said he was feeling better.” He desperately wanted to throw Simon under the bus, but decided it wasn’t in his best interest. “The man was hungry. I made him chicken soup.”

  “And tuna fish on homemade bread.” She reached for the sandwich and Simon held it away from her.

  “Hold up, I’m not done yet.”

  “Yes, you are.” She stepped around the raised foot of the recliner to reach for the sandwich when he shoved the lion’s share into his mouth and handed her the crust. “You’re going to choke.”

  He chewed rapidly then swallowed. “Too late.”

  Veronica huffed and planted her hands on her hips. “If you weren’t—”

  “Something is going on outside,” Derek said as he slowly came to his feet. “There are large groups of armed men…”

  Veronica peered through the window then turned for the door. Just as she reached for the handle, the door opened and four men stepped inside. “What’s this about?” She was afraid they were coming for Simon and couldn’t hide the fear in her voice.

  The men pushed past her and began going room to room. “Sorry, ma’am. Hatcher’s orders. We’re doing a house-by-house search.”

  “For what?” she asked, her voice cracking.

  The man lowered his face and sighed. “One of the wall sentries went missing last night. We fear he’s dead.”

  Derek appeared in the entryway. “But why are they searching the houses? Surely they don’t think that one of us did something to him.”

  The man shrugged. “We’ve searched the entire grounds on both sides of the wall. Hatcher just wants to make sure the homes are secure.”

  The three men marched back down the hall and entered the living room. “All clear back there.”

  The man tipped his hat to Veronica then turned to leave. “Please be careful who you let in.” He gave her a gentle smile then pulled the door closed behind him.

  Veronica turned and raised her brows to Derek. “They’re looking for Lana.”

  “Good,” Simon called from the recovery room. “I hope they shoot her in the face when they find her.” He paused and glanced to Derek. “Did I say that out loud?”

  Derek sighed and leaned against the door opening. “If she’s as bad as you say, this could get ugly.”

  Lana watched from the bedroom window and groaned to herself. “Great.” She turned and practically ran to the bedroom, pulling clothes together and putting them on as fast as she could.

  If it had been one or two men, she would have executed her initial plan and sprung at them nude. With groups of five and six, she needed to go into hiding.

  She tugged her boots on and froze, her head swiveling to the body parts laid out on the bed. She was waiting to put them in the cold bathwater until she absolutely had to in order to prevent the flavorful blood from leaching into the water.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  She grabbed a pillow from the bed and slipped the case off. She shoved a stack of thigh muscle and the other arm into the bag before she slung it over her shoulder and bolted down the stairs.

  She ran to the garage and had to jump to grab the string for the attic access. Gripping it tightly, she used her weight to pull the folding stairs down and quickly climbed up.

  She tossed the bag of manwich to the side and searched the attic for a pole or stick—anything that she could use to hook the bottom rung of the ladder and pull it up behind her.

  She huffed as she took to the ladder again and quickly ran to the garage workbench. She grabbed an extension cord and used a pair of heavy shears to cut the end off.

  She quickly tied it to the bottom rung of the ladder then climbed back up into the cool dark space. With a heavy tug, she was able to lift the stairs, straddling the opening long enough to fold them up and pull them neatly into place.

  She grabbed the pillowcase, crawled to the furthest corner, and hid in the darkness, praying that the men wouldn’t think to look up there for her.

  When she heard the front door swing open and bang against the interior wall, she closed her eyes and forced her breathing to slow. She could hear the men talking, but their voices were muffled.

  “One of the new people said they recognized that truck outside. Said the guy took off before they came here.” She cringed and realized she should have moved the truck to a different house.

  “Christ, look at all the bird droppings.”

  “Buck found this place when they first got here and said…holy crap. We got blood!”

  Lana cringed and tried to melt into the darkness. She heard the men radio for support and knew that she’d better settle in.

  She was in for a very long wait, or they were going to find her; either way, she’d be leaving the shit house.

  Jedidiah mopped the sweat from his brow and placed the flat brimmed hat squarely on his head again. If today was the last day he would be on God’s green earth, he would go out looking pristine.

  He slowed his army as they approached the spot where he’d found the man disguised as a bush. He turned and faced his soldiers, squaring his shoulders as he prepared to address them.

  He held the Bible tightly in his grip and glanced through the throng, his eyes searching out each of them.

  “Today is the day, children. The Lord, our God, has ordained that the savages be cleansed from his creation. Today is their day of reckoning.” He stepped forward and raised his voice. “You know what your part in this war is. You know the plan and you know to wait until you hear the signal.” A slow smile crossed his thin features. “You’ll recognize what that is. When you hear the crash, and, I’m certain, the gunfire from the unclean, you shall wash over their walls like the wave that rose Noah’s ark from its footers. You will do what you do best and render them limb from limb. Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war!”

  He watched as each of his soldiers tensed, ready to quench their thirst for blood. “Know t
hat you are doing God’s work today. You are his tools and his hands are talented. You will be the very clay that his fingers will mold into the…” He paused and gave them an almost defeated smile. “You can’t make sense of all that I’m preaching, can you?”

  He was met with confused looks and grunts.

  He cleared his throat and stood taller. “When you hear the guns, swarm them. Kill them all!”

  22

  “And we’re certain that this is him?” Hatcher asked, holding a bandana over his mouth to try to filter the stench. The coppery scent of blood mixed with other bodily fluids and fecal matter to create an odor that instantly triggered the gag reflex.

  One of the men nodded and pointed to a comforter seeping blood into the carpet. “His head is over there with his innards.”

  Hatcher fought to breathe through his mouth and stepped away from the dismembered remains. He tapped the toe of his boot to the stripped bones of Jerry’s arm. “They ate him.” His voice was low and quiet as he tried to absorb the fact. He looked up and met the gaze of the others. “You searched the house?”

  The men nodded. “If it’s Simon’s ex, she ain’t here.”

  Hatcher sighed heavily and fought the urge to punch the wall. “She’s inside our perimeter. We have to find her before she kills again.”

  “We’re still searching the other houses.”

  Hatcher nodded slowly and turned for the door. “When you find her, I want every effort made to take her alive.” He pulled the bandana from his face and turned for the stairs. “Don’t stop looking until she’s found.”

  The men stiffened then followed him out of the house. They broke away to continue searching the empty buildings as Hatcher assigned three men to gather Jerry’s remains and prepare a burial. “Watch each other’s backs out there. Report anything out of the ordinary.”