Zombie Jesus

by Edward Teach

  Romeo shouted down a warning to the people in the compound, and un-slung his lever-action rifle. He brought his rifle to his shoulder and sighted in on the lead vehicle. As he slowly breathed out in preparation of pulling the trigger, his vision swam, and a pain in his head brought him to his knees. Not now, the thought, fighting through the pain as the visions came upon him. He was seeing through the eyes of Zombie Jesus, on some lonely desert road, as four motorcycles approach out of the horizon, silhouetted against the glare of the sun. Zombie Jesus opened his mouth and screamed. As he did the Riders held guns and blades aloft in salute, and the roar of their engines were in his ears as they sped past. Romeo put his hands on the floor and vomited, the pressure in his head finally being replaced by nausea as his sight returned.

  The young man struggled to his feet and brought his rifle up, looking for the vehicles, only to find them hurdling through the horde of zombies near the compound. The psychopaths had similar grilles on their vehicles, so were able to smash through the press of bodies to draw near to the walls of the compound. Each of the vehicles had taken a different approach, and were assaulting the compound on all four sides. From his vantage point Romeo could only see three of the vehicles, the lead having disappeared into the alley. Shots rang out as the unmistakable buzz of a bullet passed by his head, and Romeo took cover. He sighted down the barrel and saw one of the psychopaths, a wiry looking man wearing a cheap Halloween monster mask had leapt upon the gate, seemingly uncaring of the razor wire digging into his flesh. The man slammed a large grappling hook into the gate then stepped back down onto the hood of the vehicle.

  Romeo knew that if they successfully pulled the gate open the hundreds of walkers outside would enter the compound and devour everyone inside. He was the sentry, and there was no way he was going to let that happen. The young man drew a bead on the vehicle and began shooting, the 30/30 rounds from his rifle cleanly puncturing the unarmored hood of the car. The vehicle sped forwards and pulled taut the wire affixed between the grappling hook and their tow bar. The gate groaned against the force, but was holding firm for now. Romeo emptied his rifle’s magazine, putting 8 rounds through the hood of the car, then firing his final two into the chest of the mask-wearing psychopath as he exited the vehicle.

  It looked like the driver must have been hit, because the car no longer accelerated, though it was an automatic and still had enough forward movement to hold the tow wire taut. Another psychopath exited the vehicle and returned fire with what appeared to be a sub-machine gun. Though the gun was terribly inaccurate at this range, bullets impacted all around him and drove Romeo into cover. He reloaded as quickly as he could and listened as screaming and gunfire erupted from several places in the compound. He wanted to help, wanted to engage the multiple enemies that he knew were rioting in the camp, but he had to focus on the gate.

  Just as he was about to rise and return fire the psychopath in the gas mask rose from the fire escape ladder on the alley side of the building. He had scaled the cinder block wall by leaping from the hood of the car and gripping the top of the wall to climb over. His arms were bleeding from several razor wire cuts, though the stiff floor matt he’d thrown over the wire had prevented most of the damage. Romeo rolled to the side just as several large rounds struck the shallow wall he’d been crouching behind. The young man took cover behind an air conditioning unit as the psychopath kept shooting. Romeo returned fire, catching the psychopath in the guts with one round, though the man kept running and shooting to force the biker into cover once more.

  Romeo moved around to the other side of the air conditioning unit and began laying down suppressing fire at the psychopath. The man managed to fire one shot that grazed Romeo’s thigh before several rounds from the lever-action punched through his chest and sent him over the edge of the building. Romeo quickly reloaded and returned to his firing position, and by the ninth shot the vehicle towing the grappling hook stopped its forward motion. The driver stumbled from the cab and managed to walk several yards away from the battle before collapsing.

  Romeo was limping down the stairs of the fire escape when he saw one psychopath vehicle burning rubber out of the alley and away from the compound. The other three vehicles sat silent, one relatively unscathed and another just as full of bullet holes as the one at the gate. The psychopaths had been defeated, though the battle had not been without losses. Several of the Calaveras had been gunned down, and a psychopath with a hatchet had chopped one biker to pieces before the others could put him down.

  Turk was convinced that they had been followed, since this was the first real encounter with the psychopaths beyond the occasional sighting when the bikers were on scavenging runs. Harrison was convinced of the same, though he had been grievously wounded, and was passing in and out of consciousness as they treated his wounds. While the welders repaired the gates a club meeting was called, and the inner circle retired to their sanctuary to discuss the future.

  Cisco had come to Romeo once the younger man’s wound had been stitched and wrapped. The older man had shared his most recent writings, and Romeo told him of his visions of the four riders. Something big was coming. Something beyond the struggle for survival, and they needed to be out there, in the world. They both knew that they could not remain behind the walls of the fortress any longer. They had to break with the club. It was time to go nomad and hit the road.

  Jesus said, "I am not your teacher. Because you have drunk, you have become intoxicated from the bubbling spring that I have tended. You hear the voice and you write the words. He sees the sights of my sights and is shown the path."

  And he took him, and withdrew, and spoke three sayings to him. When Thomas came back to his friends they asked him, "What did Jesus say to you?"

  Thomas said to them, "If I tell you one of the sayings he spoke to me, you will pick up rocks and stone me, and fire will come from the rocks and devour you. They are to be nomads, and to raise your hands against them is death.”

  THE QUEST

  Cisco shuddered as he wrote the final words of his most recent passage. The implications were terrifying, and yet he felt oddly comforted by them, as if some renewed sense of purpose had crept into his life. He had been so lost without his family, their deaths weighting upon him unlike any burden he had ever carried. And yet, this voice, and the words it pushed him to write, such things filled him. Where once he was an empty soul there was a light, a warm spark that insisted he carry it onwards. He knew that Romeo felt is also, and despite the horrific images he witnessed in his visions, there was fire to be carried.

  Jesus said to them, "If you fast, you will bring sin upon yourselves, and if you pray, you will be condemned, and if you give to charity, you will harm your spirits.

  When you go into any region and walk about in the countryside, when people take you in, eat what they serve you and heal the sick among them. This is the way the world changes, and this alone.

  After all, what goes into your mouth will not defile you; rather, it's what comes out of your mouth that will defile you. There is no knowing the mind or the gods of any people you meet, so you must remain clean."

  Cisco knew that even in a world where Zombie Jesus roamed, zombie hordes massed, and psychopaths rampaged there would be no warm reception from the Calaveras if he and Romeo revealed what they were experiencing. In the end the two men petitioned the group for a car and provisions to scout further west in search of a better fortification. After the battle with the psychopaths everyone’s nerves were frayed. Good men had died, and all for a load of canned food, which was much needed, giving many the dismal outlook that survival was measured in lives laid down.

  Cisco had pitched the idea at the next inner circle meeting, nearly a week after the psychopath’s assault. The fortress walls were holding, though the grappling hook attack had caused major structural damage to the gate, and it required near round the clock maintenance to keep from being torn down. They were under the gun and everyone knew it. Cisco and Romeo felt that this w
as a sign, a call to venture outwards. Perhaps once they hit the open road they would be able to see their path more clearly, and they were certainly the only bikers eager to venture that far from the support of the group.

  Romeo and Turk had picked out a charger, which was a solid muscle car, and had begun working to outfit it for the journey. They added armor plating to the back, sides, and hood, while bolting a crude cargo rack on the top for any useful salvage they might find along the way. The trunk carried their extra fuel, and a large steel plate was bolted to the hatch for additional protection. Both men were loathe to leave their road bikes in the compound, yet knew that it was unsafe and impractical to ride motorcycles through the horde of walkers that surrounded the compound. Perhaps once out on the open road they could find room to ride, but getting there was the real trick.

  They had little in the way of communication devices, considering cell-phones had stopped working months ago and the short-range radios they had struggled with signal once several miles apart. This was going to be a long distance recon, so the only choice was to go as far as they could then survive the trip back home. Cisco had his pump-action shotgun and a 9mm handgun, both replete with shell bandolier and several magazines. Romeo brought along his lever-action rifle, along with a large-bore pistol and a sub-machine gun that he’d scavenged from the psychopaths. Nothing metal that the dead men had brought with them was left un-salvaged, the Calaveras having become rather good at using the crane to extract items from beyond the walls.

  Romeo had told Cisco that he’d had another vision of the riders, and that they were terrifying individuals. The young man was convinced that the riders knew that the bikers were leaving the safety of the fortress. He could swear that they looked into the eyes of Zombie Jesus and were actually looking into his own. Romeo had informed Cisco that the pilgrim horde following Zombie Jesus had grown significantly, and that he was positive that the messiah was in the southwest, because of the terrain he could see when the visions were upon him.

  Jesus said, "When you see one who was not born of woman, fall on your faces and worship. Follow me to the mouth of the blue world and I will show you his kingdom."

  Jesus said, "Perhaps people think that I have come to cast peace upon the world. They do not know that I have come to cast conflicts upon the earth: fire, sword, and war. I have brought the cannibal corpse who feeds upon the living. I have brought the psychopath whose soul thirsts only for mayhem. And I have brought the Riders, who sit astride beasts of fire and steel, to bring Conquest, Famine, War, and Death.”

  For there will be six in this house: there shall be four against two and then two against one, they will stand alone."

  Jesus said, "I will give you what no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, what no hand has touched, what has not arisen in the human heart. There will be carnage on the road and the vultures will not go hungry."

  Cisco truly hoped that he and Romeo would be able to find an alternative stronghold for the Calaveras, though in his heart he had strong doubts. Still, there was no choice but to venture out and do their best, and both men felt that to hit the open road would clear their minds and help them decide their own futures. It was a long road ahead, though both were prepared.

  The crane sputtered to life and the magnet fastened itself upon the roof of the car. The crane lifted them up and then swung out in a wide arc across the compound, coming to a stop over the orange X painted in the road. Cisco turned the key in the ignition and the car’s engine roared like a caged beast ready to return to the wild. The crane lowered the charger onto the X, crushing several walkers that were too stupid and stubborn to get out of the way. The zombies were on them in an instant, grasping at the vehicle and moaning greedily. Cisco threw the car into gear and floored it, the charger lurching forward through the surge of bodies. The wicked grille did its job and the charger pushed through the horde with sickening progress as bodies were pulped, bones were crushed, and limbs torn off from zombies that attempted to stop the car.

  Romeo was buckled in and visibly shaken, as he had yet to go on a scavenge run, while Cisco was a veteran of several runs and had become accustomed to driving through the zombie horde. The vehicle rolled onwards, crushing bodies as it went, until a clear patch of road appeared and Cisco was able to get it up to speed. Soon the bodies of the walkers were literally thrown out and away from the car as the grille slammed into them. They made a wide turn to the right and were able to enter an access road. They planned to avoid the main highway until well out of the city, considering that progress would be very difficult through the maze of abandoned vehicles that choked the main arteries of the metropolis.

  Cisco took them nearly a mile down the access road before Romeo called out a warning. On their left a vehicle could be seen paralleling their progress, using its four wheel drive to off-road and keep pace. The psychopath with the green mohawk was at the wheel, and another masked psychopath had emerged from the sunroof holding a rifle. Cisco had to swerve to narrowly miss an abandoned dump truck that lay across the road, and then spun the wheel backwards to correct his course and get them back on paved road. Bullets began to ping off of the armor plating on the driver’s side, and Cisco silently said a prayer of thanks to any divinity that might be listening. The psychopath gunner was using a small caliber rifle, most likely a 22 carbine, featuring a high rate of fire but little penetrating power. Still, a stray round through the metal grating and into his neck would kill him just as dead, so Cisco hit the accelerator.

  There was no sunroof in the charger that Romeo could use, so he had to crawl into the backseat to get into a position to return fire. He threaded the barrel of his rifle through the grating and braced his feet on the closed door. It wasn’t much of a shooting rest but it would have to do. There was plenty of ammunition for their journey, though it would not do to spend it all now, not with a world of walkers out there and the strange Riders to possibly contend with. He was going to have to make them count, thought Cisco as he dodged another abandoned vehicle. The older man was doing his best to keep the car steady so Romeo could get a shot, but the constant salvo of small arms fire and the obstacles in the road kept him driving on the defense.

  The mohawk psychopath had closed the distance between the two vehicles, and swerved hard onto the paved access road, kicking up a dust cloud as his tires jumped the curb. The gunner’s last few shots went wide as his magazine clicked empty, and Romeo switched his firing position to the back window grate and took the chance to return fire. His own shots went wide as he was forced to adjust by trial and error to the adverse conditions of the swerving cars. He’d always been a decent marksman, but this was another endeavor entirely.

  Romeo took a deep breath and sighted down the barrel of the gun. His guts tied themselves in a cold hard knot as he looked down his rifle at the psychopath gunner drawing his own bead on Romeo. Both men began firing at once. Romeo gritted his teeth and did his best not to flinch as small rounds impacted all around him, at least one slipping through the small slits in the grating to punch a hole through the passenger seat. Cisco cursed behind him and turned again to avoid what looked like a blast crater in the middle of the road.

  Romeo lost the grip on his rifle and was flung about the backseat, while Cisco’s seat belt auto-locked and knocked the wind out of him as they skirted the edge of the crater. The momentum of the car was enough that Cisco had to spin the wheel and throw on the emergency hand brake to keep the spinning car from flipping. They came to a stop in a peal of tire-smoke, facing the crater. Romeo scrambled to get himself upright and went for his pistol while Cisco struggled with his safety belt and opened the driver’s side door.

  The SUV did not manage to swerve in time and flew across the crater, the tip of the vehicle failing to clear the opposite edge of the crater. The front of the car smashed into the crater edge, making a crunching metal on metal sound that made both Romeo and Cisco wince. The psychopath gunner was flung from the sunroof and landed in a heap near the charger, his body t
witching and his back bent ninety degrees in the wrong direction. The two bikers gingerly approached the wreckage, staying alert for any signs that the fuel tank might explode.

  They walked towards the crater and looked at the shattered vehicle. The mohawk psychopath had managed to drag himself from the wreck, and crawled over the lip of the hole. The bikers raised their weapons and yelled for him to stop, and yet heedlessly he managed to get to his feet. He was covered in dozens of cuts and bruises, and it looked as if one of his arms was broken. In the other hand he held a crowbar with a greasy cloth-wrapped handle. He spat out a mouthful of blood and teeth and looked defiantly at the bikers.

  Cisco and Romeo took a step back as the psychopath, weakened as he was, began shouting in gibberish at them. He took a step forward and raised his weapon, then a second step, and on the third a heavy round from Romeo’s pistol smacked into his chest. He staggered backwards to the edge of the crater, and then two shots from Cisco’s 9mm sent the bleeding man falling. The psychopath landed on the hood of his own crashed car, and did not stir again.

  The bikers looted the vehicle and the bodies as quickly as they could, knowing that walkers would be attracted by the battle. It still bothered Cisco tremendously that when a normal person was killed or died they would come back from the dead as a walker within minutes. Yet the psychopaths, once killed, would stay dead. It was as if the corpse curse did not affect them, clearly they had some immunity. Though perhaps, he reflected, they were already dead in a sense. Psychopaths had no language that normal people could understand, and yet they seemed to understand each other. The zombies did not attack them, simply ignored them, perhaps some kindred spirit amongst the damned. Unless it is we who are the damned, thought Cisco, and they are our tormentors. He shook these thoughts from his mind and finished the salvage. They had a lot of miles to go before nightfall.