Apocalypse Cult (Gray Spear Society)

by Alex Siegel

  His own make-up was already complete. He wore a cowboy hat and a mustache that made his lip itch. Marina had helped him bleach his hair until it was almost blonde. He also wore cowboy boots. A few pebbles in the left one would force him to walk with a pronounced limp.

  Even with the disguises, they would spend as little time as possible in the open. With the DEA staking out the campgrounds, Marina and Aaron had to assume a federal agent was lurking behind every tree.

  Victor called out from the driver's seat, "I'm turning into the campgrounds now."

  Aaron's heart beat a little faster. From now on, even the smallest mistake could prove costly.

  "You remember our cover story?" Marina said.

  "We've been married for four years," he said. "Victor is your brother."

  "Names."

  "Uh, I'm John Roosevelt and you're Sandra. Your brother is Steve Smith. How do you keep the names straight when they change all the time?"

  "You get used to it," she said. "They're like clothes you put on and take off."

  Victor stopped the RV. "Stay here. I'm going to pay the manager."

  He left the motor running, which meant the air conditioner was still working. Aaron appreciated that greatly. He could feel warmth coming through the wall facing the sun.

  "Since we're supposed to be married," he said, "people will expect some affection when we're together. How do you want to play that?"

  "I don't mind holding hands and kissing." Marina smiled. "Sounds nice, actually."

  "I won't complain."

  "But when we do it, we have to be comfortable, like we've been together for years. Any kind of awkwardness will look suspicious."

  "Good point." He nodded.

  She sat next to him, and before he could guess her intentions, she was all over him. She shoved him onto his back and pressed her warm lips onto his. Their thighs rubbed together. He could smell her heavy make-up and sweat, but it was like an exotic perfume to him. Just when he was starting to relax and enjoy the intimacy, she pushed off.

  "That should take care of the awkwardness," she said.

  He made sure his mustache was straight. "I have a little awkwardness left. We should do it again just to be safe."

  "Not now. This costume is too uncomfortable."

  "Later?" he asked.

  She gave him a hard stare. "Aaron, I've been thinking. A little fooling around is fine, but we can't have a relationship."

  "Why not?"

  "I sometimes have to sleep with other men to get information. You can't turn into a jealous lunatic whenever that happens. In general, romance and business don't mix well. Especially, our business."

  He grunted. It was a valid point, and he had no good answer for it.

  "And I'm trying to protect you," she added. "What if I die? Legionnaires usually don't live to a ripe old age. It's much easier to lose a co-worker than a lover."

  "That's true," he said, "but if you're afraid to love, then you're afraid to live."

  "Did you read that in a fortune cookie?"

  "That's not fair. I was attracted to you when we first met, and those emotions have just become stronger. I know you feel something, too. It's like we were always meant to be together. We'll just have to deal with the consequences."

  "Aaron, please, try to be professional...."

  Victor returned to the RV and sat in the driver's seat. "Look at these." He tossed a couple of brochures back.

  Aaron took one and saw it was a map of the area. There was a large lake with a thin strip of forest along the west side. The campgrounds were just west of the forest, away from the lake. The southern half was reserved for RVs and campers, and the northern half had cabins for rent. The property included most of the lake, and fishing boats were available, according to the brochure.

  "I asked the manager about the Church of One Soul," Victor said. "He confirmed they're here. They rented most of the cabins for an entire month, cash in advance. He seemed pretty happy about the situation."

  He drove to an RV parking spot. It was just a painted rectangular area in the middle of a large, almost empty parking lot. The lack of cover concerned Aaron. It would be impossible to come and go without being seen.

  "We're here," Victor said. "Let's introduce ourselves."

  The three of them gathered outside the RV. The pebbles in Aaron's left boot were already causing him pain, but he would suffer in silence. He casually held Marina's hand, which was damp with sweat from the heat. The razor sharp tips of her fingernails tickled his wrist.

  They walked north. The rental cabins were made to look like log cabins, but the walls had the sheen of plastic instead of real wood. Each cabin had a small air-conditioning unit sticking out of a window. Broken concrete walkways wove between dense clumps of weeds. Heat rising from the parking lot made the entire scene shimmer.

  "Five star accommodations," Aaron said.

  Marina and Victor glanced at each other.

  "What?" Aaron said.

  "We're walking into enemy territory," Marina said softly. "Instead of making jokes, focus on learning the terrain. Memorize escape routes. Plan your cover for when the shooting starts."

  "You're sure we'll have to fight them?"

  She nodded. "Every mission ends in violence."

  Just a few cult members were visible in their green robes. They walked quickly from cabin to cabin, perhaps to escape the heat.

  The rows of cabins went right to the edge of the forest, where cover was plentiful. If he had to run for his life, that was the direction to go. There were a few dumpsters with clouds of flies buzzing around them. The metal walls of the dumpsters would stop a bullet, but if he hid behind one, he would risk getting flanked.

  "I've been watching the woods," Victor said, "and I haven't seen any sign of the DEA."

  "I'm sure they're being very careful," Marina said. "Maybe they set up hidden cameras."

  Aaron let go of her hand. Sweat was making the experience unpleasant.

  They stopped a female cult member with a shaved head as she hurried along one of the walkways. She looked up with a surprised expression. She was young, certainly just a teenager. Green stars were tattooed on her forehead and cheeks. There were dark circles under her eyes.

  Victor stuck out his hand. "Hi there! I'm Steve! What's your name?"

  The girl shook Victor's hand. "They call me Pestilence."

  "That's an odd name!"

  "It's one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse."

  "Oh." Victor nodded and furrowed his brow. "I've seen a lot of guys and gals dressed like you around here."

  "We're the Church of One Soul." Pestilence fumbled with her robes for a moment and fished out three pamphlets. She gave them to Victor, Aaron, and Marina.

  "Is that one of them crazy cults you hear about?" Victor said.

  "No, not at all!" Pestilence answered urgently. "We follow the true gospel. The angel Sraosha delivered the Word unto Simon, and he delivered the Word unto us."

  "What is this gospel?"

  "That the destiny of man is perfect unity. To achieve true power and enlightenment, we must have one mind, one voice, and one soul. Individual desire is the root cause of all our failures, and it must be eliminated."

  Aaron remembered Brittany Waters making similar statements.

  "That sounds reasonable enough," Victor said.

  Pestilence cracked a slight smile. "It becomes self-evident when Simon talks. He is such a great teacher, a worthy vessel of divine truth. His words seem to fall straight from Heaven. Being here, so close to him, is a perpetually joyous and humbling experience."

  "What do you think, Sis?" Victor asked Marina.

  "I don't know." She shrugged. "Don't people have the right to do what they want with their lives?"

  "No!" Pestilence declared. "Do people have the right to be lazy, greedy, and corrupt? Do people have the right to drain Mother Earth of all her natural resources? Do people have the right to rape and kill children for their personal pleasure?"<
br />
  "I guess I never considered the child rape aspect."

  "See that?" Pestilence pointed at an ant crawling across the dirt. "No questions, no rebellion. An ant knows only selfless service for its entire life. That's our ideal."

  "But an ant isn't intelligent."

  "Intelligence is a curse! Simon teaches us to put aside our own thoughts. We must open our minds and receive wisdom unconditionally. It has been difficult, but I've learned to follow without hesitation, and now my life is bliss. Doubt and critical thinking no longer cloud my thoughts..."

  Pestilence stopped talking suddenly when another cult member approached. He was an older man. Blue stripes decorated the sleeves of his green robes, and the material shimmered in the sunlight like silk. The vivid tattoos on his face were green flames wrapped around his eyes.

  "What's going on?" he said in a tone of suspicion.

  "I was just delivering the true gospel to these good people," Pestilence said nervously.

  "Oh?"

  Victor put out his hand. "Hi there! I'm Steve! Glad to meet you! What's your name?"

  "Salt. What are you doing here?"

  "We're on vacation."

  "No," Salt said. "What are you doing here? Talking to her?"

  "Just being friendly," Victor replied with a vacant smile.

  "Hmm."

  "How is the fishing? That lake looks great!"

  "I don't fish." Salt narrowed his eyes.

  "Too bad." Victor shook his head sadly.

  "How long are you staying here?"

  "A week. I love camping! But now I'm also interested in your little church, and I can't wait to hear more."

  Aaron and Marina nodded enthusiastically.

  "Well..." Salt said.

  "Please?" Victor put his hands together. "You can't just show us the horse without letting us ride it."

  Salt scratched the stubble on his scalp. "Simon is giving a service tonight. You may listen to his opening remarks, but then you must leave. You are not permitted to observe our sacred rituals until you prove yourselves worthy."

  "That would be fantastic? Where?"

  "The shore of the lake at sunset."

  Chapter Eleven

  "I didn't know there were so many of them," Aaron said softly to Marina.

  Hundreds of people in green robes stood on the shore of a pristine natural lake near a forest. Shafts of orange sunlight streamed through the trees and made the surface of the lake glitter in spots. Nobody spoke, not even a whisper, and the only sound was the constant buzz of insects.

  Simon stood on a boat in the lake at a safe distance from his people. He was a very tall man. His multi-layered robes seemed to flow like a waterfall of green silk from his shoulders. Instead of tattoos like his followers, Simon had a grid of fine copper wires woven into the flesh of his face. The wires were green from corrosion. His scalp was shaved perfectly clean.

  His audience consisted almost entirely of women and children with particular emphasis on young women.

  It's a giant harem, Aaron thought.

  The relatively small number of men were all guards. Six stood at the edge of the water and carried 12 gauge shotguns. Five more guards with high power rifles were either in the boat with Simon or in nearby boats. Another four guards were widely spaced along the far shore of the lake, and they had rifles with sniper scopes. Even more were patrolling the woods. All the weapons were legal as far as Aaron knew, but just barely. The guards were watching the audience rather than Simon.

  "Welcome, my beloved flock!" Simon's voice boomed across the water without amplification. "It is another glorious evening. Before I begin, I must mention we have three guests." He pointed at Marina, Victor, and Aaron, who stood apart from everybody else. "They will enjoy the first part of tonight's sermon. If you happen to meet our visitors tomorrow, remind them of my words. Help them understand our ways."

  Aaron kept the brim of his cowboy hat down over his eyes. Brittany Waters was probably in the group, and he couldn't let her recognize him.

  "As I begin," Simon said, "I must state that I am not blind to the suffering of my people. I know food is in short supply. Many of you sleep on the floor instead of a bed. These are hard times, indeed, for all of us, but I'm very gratified to report that I have not heard any complaints. You have shown me courage and discipline, and I could not be prouder.

  "These challenges are an opportunity to grow stronger. The angel Sraosha told me the road to salvation goes across a lake of pain and blood. Those were her words. The small inconveniences that we endure now are like ripples on the water. We must not let them slow us in our journey to our ultimate goal, the unification of all mankind."

  Aaron looked at the faces in the crowd. The sun was setting, but he managed to spot Brittany near the trees. He didn't see her parents anywhere.

  Simon continued, "That goal grows closer every day. All of our men are now fully engaged in the Great Project, and we are in the final stages of preparation. They are working day and night in the secret places. Armageddon is nigh, at last! A new world will rise from the ashes of the old, and we will rule supreme! We will live in golden palaces with servants at our beck and call. We will dine on the finest delicacies like royalty!"

  The audience remained silent and still, as if they were half-asleep.

  "But beware!" Simon said. "Our enemies press us on all sides, as we witnessed the other day when we were savagely attacked. There may be spies and traitors in our midst as I stand here. Never speak to strangers. Trust not the outstretched hand nor the friendly smile, for it may conceal evil intent."

  He looked directly at Aaron, Victor, and Marina. Aaron pretended not to notice.

  "That is why we must be so careful with information," Simon said. "Follow my orders without question, and do not try to understand my intentions, for they are subtle and sublime. Have faith that my goals are the same as your goals.

  "So I command you. Do not dwell on the difficulties of today. Do not allow them to darken your thoughts, for that way leads to doubt and critical thinking. If you must contemplate pain, instead consider the suffering that our enemies will soon endure. For, as Sraosha told me, the blood of man will turn the oceans red. The cities of man will burn like erupting volcanoes. The heart of man will be crushed by despair until the new age dawns."

  Marina sighed. Aaron glanced at her and saw her jaw was tight and her eyes were smoldering.

  Simon continued in a voice that thundered, "You, my chosen few, will carry the true gospel to the four corners of the Earth. I will be the savior and king of humanity!"

  His voice flowed like pure honey, and it had a hypnotic cadence. With his unusual height and striking features, he seemed larger than life. Aaron could understand how people might fall under Simon's spell.

  But Aaron was not one of those people. He already hated Simon with a passion. This sermon was cruel and manipulative, the product of a sociopathic mind. Clearly, Simon didn't give a damn about anything except his personal ambitions, and he would cause any amount of suffering to achieve them.

  Aaron couldn't listen anymore, so he studied the cult members instead. They hadn't moved or spoken since Simon began his speech. With their blank expressions and sagging postures, they seemed ready to collapse from exhaustion at any moment. Even the children lacked energy.

  A few minutes later, the sermon ended. Aaron, Marina, and Victor were told to leave, and they did so gladly.

  As soon as they were safely in the woods, Victor whispered, "Can we just kill this fucking bastard now? It's always the same shitty philosophy with these assholes. I packed a sniper rifle. A bullet between his eyes will do the world a lot of good."

  "No," Marina said. "Our mission is to capture and interrogate. We need to know Simon's secret plan, his so called 'Great Project.' We also need to find where all his men are hiding because they're not here, and that really worries me. The enemy's army is missing." She rubbed her fingernails.

  "What about the Waters?" Aaron said.

&
nbsp; Victor snarled. "You go find them tonight, when it's dark. Marina and I will reconnoiter the security around Simon."

  "That's fine. I don't mind working alone."

  "Aaron," Marina said, "if you're caught...."

  "Hey!" Aaron said. "You recruited me because I'm good at this stuff. I won't get caught."

  "Just locate the hostages, and don't let the DEA see you. Don't try to rescue anybody, either. We'll get together and work out a complete plan of attack after we finish our recon. We'll do this properly."

  "Agreed."

  * * *

  Aaron walked along the southern boundary of the campgrounds, where it met a corn field. To his left, the parking lot was a vast field of black asphalt, and to his right there was a sea of corn stalks. His cowboy boots crunched on the dirt margin in between.

  The pebbles in his left boot hurt so much they felt like golf balls. He was forced to walk on his toes to avoid aggravating the pain. It didn't help that a crescent moon provided inadequate light, and he kept stepping into unseen holes. Anybody who saw him, either the cult or the DEA, would think he was crippled or drunk.

  He swung a whiskey bottle back and forth in his right hand. Every few seconds he stopped to take a long drink. The bottle contained water, but he grunted and coughed as if it were hard liquor.

  He wandered into the corn field and fell sideways, pretending he had passed out. He lay still for several minutes as he listened to the breeze.

  He slowly and silently peeled off his outer clothes. Underneath he wore skintight elastic printed with the standard Society camouflage pattern. It was the perfect color scheme for night operations. Night vision goggles were hidden under his cowboy hat, and he flipped them down over his eyes. Now the moon seemed to produce as much light as the sun. He kicked off his hated cowboy boots, revealing black cloth ninja shoes.

  He crawled through the field on his elbows and knees. He had to reach the forest before he could raise his head above the level of the corn stalks. It was a grueling trip, made worse by the fact he had neglected to bring knee pads, but he made it.