Life Among The Dead

by Daniel Cotton

He is in a cage suspended in a dark room. The cell is made of thick wooden dowel fastened by hemp with a ply wood floor. The room beyond is a large sparse void. Torches burn on the walls revealing very little detail to him. It looks as if the world stores all of its unused shadows here because that’s all he can see.

  His pockets are empty. Whoever has imprisoned him relieved him of his gear. He grips the bars and tests how sturdily the prison is built. To his chagrin it’s pretty damn solid.

  “What the fuck is this?” He asks.

  “My temple.” A voice responds. It echoes around the vacant hall. Dan turns towards its origin inside the cage.

  “Your what?” He asks a short man with a potbelly, wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt.

  “My temple. It’s an old supply depot.” The man reiterates. “My name is Greg. Greg Smith.”

  The man is offering his meaty hand for Dan to shake, the soldier just ignores it.

  “Why did you bring me here?” Dan doesn’t bother to leave the fuming anger from his voice.

  “I didn’t”

  “You just fucking said this is your temple.”

  “He lost control of his flock.” Another male voice within the cage interjects. The voice remains hidden in the gloomy shadows that drape the back of the cell. Unlike Greg this man doesn’t enter the light to make his presence known.

  “I met the flock.” Dan growls at the unseen person. “Who are you?”

  Dan can feel the cage sway as the new voice stands to make the short journey into better lighting. He is a tall older man, dressed in a similar uniform as the zombie cop Dan had shot in town.

  “Sheriff Rexton.” He says with authority. Dan wonders if that’s supposed to be impressive, considering he is locked up too.

  “Are they trying to save you as well?” Dan asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “Yeah,” The man says, relaxing a bit. “Apparently, I am a nonbeliever.”

  “Not a very tolerant town. What happens now?”

  “Ask this douche bag.” The cop hitches a thumb in Greg’s direction. He returns to the shadows to rest his old bones. The cage sways as he sits, letting out a groan.

  Dan stares at the man in the bright red and yellow shirt. Greg lowers his head and slinks away like a dog that is about to be scolded. The Sheriff can tell that the rotund man isn’t going to share, so he starts the story with a sigh.

  “Several months ago, I noticed odd behavior from my neighbors. They were keeping strange hours. Many gathered here in this ‘temple’ at the same time every day. They began to only associate with one another. They wouldn’t so much as give anyone else the time of day.

  “It started small, but it spread. A handful became dozens. It didn’t take long until all the people of Gaines were involved. No one would give me any answers when I questioned them about it. I confronted over thirty people and couldn’t get to the bottom of it. There was only one thing I could tie to the start of it. It all began when this asshole showed up in town.”

  “Hey!” Greg objects. “I’m in the cage too.”

  “Why is that, Greg? Why are you in the cage?” Dan asks the man. He has somewhere to be. He wants to get to his family and this man is the reason he can’t. Greg isn’t answering. Dan starts taking small steps towards him. He isn’t sure what he will do when he gets his hands on him, he just hopes the man breaks before he does.

  “Ok,” Greg says holding his palms to the soldier who has murder in his eyes. “I’m a con man. I go from town to town, looking for rubes. I gather people who share a common need to belong and gullibility.”

  “You’re a cult leader?” Dan asks. The shock in his voice is hard to miss. The words came out choppy as he chuckles through his sentence.

  “I write a doctrine of faith for them to follow. I give their lives hope and meaning. I give them a purpose.”

  “Don’t sugar coat it.” The Sheriff interrupts. “You bilk them out of everything, and then you blow town once they’ve been bled dry.”

  Greg can’t argue. It’s true. He had done it many times.

  “Anyway, I came to Gaines and did my thing. I started to work my magic and it was like I hit the mother load.” As the little man speaks Dan inspects the cage again. “This sleepy little town makes a mint from tourist dollars. My gospel spread like wildfire.”

  “Just as destructive, but I would say it was more like a plague.” The Sheriff corrects him.

  Greg continues to speak to the new roommate who examines each side of the jail. The soldier reaches his hand through the bars, and out into the shadows that conceal the back wall of the room.

  “So, I’m making money hand over fist. This is what all men in my line of work dream of. It was the jackpot, the score that would retire me. I could finally escape to some island where there is nothing but beaches, coconut drinks, and tanned ladies.”

  Dan’s arm is extended to his elbow, he can feel a concrete wall beyond the bars. He crouches down and whispers to the cop. Greg watches the secret meeting and stops talking. Dan finishes his exchange with the policeman.

  “If everything was going so great,” Dan asks. “Why are you locked up?”

  “I talk in my sleep.” The man who would be king blushes. “I have a chopper, all gassed up, just out of town. I was planning on leaving soon anyway. When the shit hit the fan yesterday, I figured it was the perfect time for me to split.”

  Greg sits on the bare wood floor of the prison cell. He rests the back of his head against the bars. “The problem with being cult leader is that you can have your pick of all the girls.”

  “Sounds awful.” Dan quips.

  “I had every girl in this town, but there’s always one… There’s this cute, strawberry blonde number that’s very special to me.” The man smiles. “I like her so much I made her my number one bride just two days ago. We haven’t even… You know… Yet. I asked her if she wanted to run away with me.”

  “Let me guess. She turned you in.” Dan deduces.

  Before Greg can answer a door opens below them. White light spills in from the opening and cuts a path through the darkness.

  “She is so devout in my teachings.” Greg shakes his head while smirking. “She told her dad. He assembled the flock to capture me, thinking I had lost my way.”

  White robed figures are entering the hall single file. They take position in orderly rows facing the far wall. A figure stands before them in a black robe. His hands are raised above his head. He lowers them and all the parishioners kneel in unison.

  “It’s just mass.” Greg says over Dan’s shoulder. The soldier palms the leader’s face and brings him close to his.

  “Go on with your story.” Dan commands.

  “Don’t encourage him.” The Sheriff protests.

  “It might be helpful.”

  “I tried to tell them it was only a test, and that their response meant they had passed. I assured them I was on the righteous path and would never actually leave them. They said someone off the path would say that.” Greg shrugs.

  “So they locked you up anyway.” Dan sighs. “Where does that leave us? What’s this ‘saved’ bullshit?”

  “Every time I pull this scam I create a holiday. It gives them something to look forward to and brings them closer together. It allows them to cut loose and celebrate.

  “Tomorrow is November 30th, the great salvation. I told them the date is known, but the year is not. So every year we must make ready for it.”

  “Why the 30th?”

  “It’s my birthday.”

  “Oh, Happy birthday!” Dan says with fake cheer. “What is the ‘great salvation’?”

  “It is the day when all the true believers will be saved. They become one with the messiah when he utters the word of God into their ears. You know the salvation nears by the signs.”

  “What signs?” Dan can’t wait to hear this one.

  “World events. A lot are occurrences that happen every day and you always hear on the news. I do that so people think salvation is
coming soon. The rest I get from the bible. As the salvation approaches they must make even greater tributes to give to the messiah when he comes. These people were so generous. They sold everything; appliances, furniture, plasma, kidneys, a woman sold her baby, one guy actually…”

  “Tell me the signs!” The man sickens Dan, but he has to keep him on track.

  “Soaring oil prices, poverty, civil unrest, the seas boiling…”

  “The seas boiled?” Dan asks. He imagines he would have heard about that one happening.

  “Global warming.”

  “Of course.”

  “But, yesterday one of the big ones happened. One that couldn’t possibly happen in a million years.”

  “The dead walked the earth.” Dan says, laying his forehead on the bars.

  “What are the odds? And, then he came sauntering into town.”

  “He? He who?” Dan asks.

  Greg looks at the convened mass and judges how far into the ceremony they are. “Just some drifter… Actually, you’ll see him very soon.”

  Below them two figures leave the tidy rows and enter the open door behind the man leading the assembly. They emerge again, pulling a cage on wheels. Inside the cage is a man with a scraggly beard and long knotted hair. He is wearing a long white bathrobe. The robe has a dark stain down the front of it that Dan knows is blood even without being able to see the color. Dan can tell he is dead by his slow movements as he reaches for his handlers.

  “Who is he?” Dan has to ask.

  “The messiah. He just walked into town. One of our followers must have let him through the gates. My bride told me all about…” Greg stops talking as Dan stands up glaring at him.

  “You mean to tell me, I’m about to witness Night of the Living Jesus!” Each word becomes louder as they pass through Dan’s lips until he is shouting. He punctuates the sentence by slapping Greg upside his head. The Sheriff chuckles, someone below shushes the captives.

  Greg’s pride is hurt along with his head. He composes himself, knowing that they are in this mess because of his greed. “I’m afraid so. Sorry. Tomorrow they all plan to become one with the messiah. Become zombies.”

  “And, us to.” Dan makes it a point to add. “Willing or not.”

  Dan slides his back down the bars until he is seated on the floor and mutters. “This is what T-Rex meant.”

  “Did you say T-Rex?” The Sheriff asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “He OK?”

  “Dead.”

  “They get him?”

  “Shot himself. He left a note saying he wouldn’t be one of them. I thought he meant a zombie.” Dan joins the Sheriff.

  “So, this whole zombie thing is real?” The old cop asks.

  “I told you about…” Greg tries to speak.

  “I don’t believe a fucking word you say. Figured it was more of your bullshit.”

  “You knew T-Rex?” Dan probes, though he already knows that much.

  “He was my brother. Theodore Rexton. I’m Doug.” The Sheriff offers his hand and Dan takes it.

  “I’m Dan.” He almost wishes he hadn’t introduced himself to the nice old cop. It seems to Dan that everyone he meets lately either leaves him, or dies.

  “I’ve been in this cage for weeks.”

  “For being a nonconformist?”

  “Yup. And, I know old T would never be stupid enough to follow this dipshit. I’m actually glad he did it himself rather than on their terms.”

  “My followers would never hurt anyone.” Greg states.

  “They plan on force feeding us to a zombie tomorrow, Greg. I think that’ll hurt.” Dan silences the stout man.

  The three are quiet and just listen to the zealots below moaning along with their messiah. A few things still have Dan puzzled.

  “Greg, why are there townies already turned in Gaines?”

  “My bride said the messiah appeared at the gate and was allowed entry. He spoke the word into someone’s ear. From there it must have snowballed. I was in here, I don’t know much else.”

  That explains why the followers are living outside the gates now, Dan reasons. They don’t want to be saved too early. They are waiting for the Great Salvation. The “word of God” must have been when the corpse bit the idiot who let him in. He can imagine some cheerful fanatic, happily showing everyone his ear that had been chewed off. It makes him sad to think about someone that enraptured in a false belief. He decided to keep his mind off of that and check on the policeman’s progress. The cult had taken everything from Dan’s pockets, but they had left his boots on him. Dan had felt the comforting bulge of the razor and lent it to the old cop.

  “How is that coming along?” Dan asks the police man who saws the hemp ties with the silver blade.

  “Slow.” Sheriff

  “What’re you guys doing over there?” Greg asks craning his neck to try and see.

  “Shut the fuck up!” The Sheriff spits out.

  Dan listens to the head of the congregation below as he addresses his people, but the words are too low for him to make out. The followers give him rapt attention. The zombie in the cage is still reaching for the people. Mass is adjourning, the faithful rise to their feet and start to file out of the hall.

  “Excuse me.” Dan calls down. A few of the white robed figures glance back at the captives, but continue to the door. The one in black takes a couple steps closer to the elevated cage. “Can I have a word with you please?”

  The head of the order snaps his fingers and two followers break off from the line. They run to a large wheel on the wall and work in tandem to turn it. The cage starts to descend towards the floor below.

  The man who had led the mass is crossing the hall. His arms are folded behind his back as he calmly strides to the nonbelievers. The cage has stopped at floor level and Dan can see there is actually no floor under them. The enclosure dangles six inches from the ledge.

  Pleasant eyes meet Dan’s. It is the gentleman who had told Dan they would save him outside of Gaines. His face bares no hatred or malice towards the infidel. He just smiles warmly, with the patience of a priest. Around his neck is a white collar.

  “What is it, my son?” The cleric asks.

  “As I understand, we are to be converted.”

  “That is true. You will receive our messiah’s word and join us in the rapture of salvation.” He explains.

  “Cool. Can I read the scriptures please?” Dan asks.

  “It is a very holy book, my son.” The man shakes his head, his voice gives Dan the impression that it is out of the question.

  “I would hope so.” Dan chooses his words with great care. He doesn’t want to offend him with sarcasm. “I would just like to better understand. I would like to know how I can better serve the messiah, and what tributes I can make. What if I am unworthy, or unwilling?”

  “Worth and will are not for us to appraise. As for your tribute, that has been made. If the messiah wishes you to join, you will be one of us.”

  “And, I think that is awesome. But, wouldn’t the messiah prefer a well-informed follower to… Follow him? I think he would say so… If he could.” Dan nods towards the zombie Christ figure.

  “I will confer with our lord.” The priest walks away from Dan.

  He was close enough to grab, Dan thinks. Should I have grabbed him?

  The man in the black robe is at the smaller cage staring in at his savior. The unholy ghost inside is trying to get his hands on him. The messiah is pressing his body against the bars as he extends his arms as far as they will go. The meal is out of reach. Undead fingers miss the man’s face by mere inches and the guy doesn’t even flinch.

  He looks rather intelligent, Dan thinks. How is he dumb enough to fall for this shit? Their conference concludes and the man is returning to Dan again, walking in the same calm manner as before.

  “The messiah agrees with you, and appreciates your interest.” He says upon arrival. An almost subliminal glance is cast at the Sheriff who rem
ains in the shadows. Dan trusts the cop has stopped his work on the bars for the time being.

  “You are able to communicate with him?” Dan asks fighting to keep his voice sounding interested and sincere.

  “He speaks to me from above. It is all in here.” A book is passed through the bars of the cage. Dan receives a spiral bound notebook, upon the cover words are embossed in black magic marker: Holy Scripter.

  “Wow.” Dan sounds impressed, but is trying not to laugh. “I have never held an actual religious text before.”

  The soldier thumbs through the pages. Not only is the cover misspelled, the words inside are written in barely legible cursive. There are illustrations composed of stickmen. I’ve seen more impressive cave drawings. He gazes up from the book and nods to the man. The priest smiles, about to leave him to his theological studies when Greg gets his attention.

  “I want to be in my room!” Greg implores.

  “I am sorry Gregory, that isn’t possible. The test.”

  “The test is over. You passed! I want to be in my room with my wives.”

  Wives? Dan thinks.

  “Perhaps a compromise.” The priest says. With a snap of his fingers the cage is lowering further down past the floor. It is pitch black when they come to a stop. Dan is pissed off. I can’t read in the dark. Fucking Greg, he steams.

  Five flickering lights enter the space before the cage in a line. In the center of the black abyss the lights break off from formation and venture around the room, reproducing. The chamber slowly brightens to reveal five young ladies in robes holding candles. Numerous flames devour the darkness.

  The women assemble at the front of the cage. Standing in a row they shed their frocks showing that they wear nothing underneath. Each lady is gorgeous from their perfect hair all the way down their tight nubile bodies. Dan has to hand it to the slimy man. He made good choices.

  Dan didn’t share the man’s taste in interior design however. The bed is a large round mattress with a leopard print and a mirror above it. A zebra rug is on the floor in the center of the room. A wardrobe sits along the wall to the left, next to it is a rather nice vanity, its classy antique look blemished by the presence of a lava lamp.

  Dan looks past the girls trying to come up with a plan. There are two doors on either side of the room. He notices Greg is holding hands with one of the ladies. From her strawberry blonde hair he surmises this is the special one who had turned him in. It’s nice that he harbors no resentment, Dan mocks. That’s poison in a marriage.