Then, with Binky’s head turned, Blake made an impromptu decision. He grabbed the handgun and fired a quick shot.
The round whizzed past Binky's head, blowing a chunk of plaster from the wall.
Binky spun around and dropped to a knee, firing immediately and without aiming.
Justin dove off the bed just as the buck shot filled Blake's chest; one of the pellets struck Alice in the arm.
Alice screamed hysterically; for her own pain, for the blood that sprayed all over her, but mostly for her lover. She grabbed Blake’s lifeless shoulders and shook, shouting, “Blake! Blake! Blake!”
Her ample breasts moved left to right as she flailed wildly to try to treat him. She yanked up the white bed sheet and pressed it against Blake’s chest, but the thin sheets were not enough, nor did it matter.
Eyes wide open and face plastered with an expression of freight, Blake was already dead.
Justin had kicked and scurried over to the corner, grabbing his hair, repeating, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!”
"You killed him! You killed Blake!"
"I-I told him not to do anything stupid! I told him! You heard me! Steve!" Binky called out again but still no answer. "Damnit! Both of you, up now!" he ordered, racking the shotgun. The intimidating clicks were enough, but still he added, "I won't tell you again! This way! Move!"
Justin staggered to his feet and met Alice in the middle of the room. Binky backed into the hallway, using the barrel of the shotgun to usher Justin and Alice to the far rooms. "Steve! We're coming to you!"
Upon arriving at the end, Alice looked into the room on the right, then jumped back and clung to Justin.
Justin looked over and nearly vomited. “Oh no, not him too.”
Moving forward, Binky saw the reason for such distress.
It was Brad, lying on his back, blood pooling on the stone.
Pistol next to his fingers…self defense, Binky thought. He nudged the backs of Justin and Alice and said, "Get moving! Steve! Steve! We're coming in!"
The room maintained an open floor plan but near the western wall, the far corner was concealed by a partition. The place was a rock-star's bachelor pad, post concert. Leftover food, empty bottles, and trash covered the sticky stone floor.
Alice and Justin trembled as they walked hesitantly inside. Seeing no one around, Justin called out softly. “Hello? Anyone?”
“Keep moving,” Binky said, nervous as to what mysteries awaited.
Then, as Alice rounded the partition, she dropped the hands covering her mouth. “Preacher!”
Oh no, there were two shots, Binky thought.Brad accounted for one of them, the other was unknown. Did Steve kill the Preacher? Did the Preacher kill Steve?
No longer stalling to discover the truth, Binky hustled around the partition and gasped.
***
Leaning against the far corner, next to the window was Steve. Breathing steadily, he had a cut over his eye and blood dribbled from his mouth. His shirt was ripped and jeans scuffed.
“I’m alright,” Steve said, pointing his shotgun at the Preacher.
Reverend Zachariah Thoreau was on his knees, hands interlocked over his head. His face was bloodied and bruised worse than Steve’s. He looked up at Binky, face full of anger, then over at the woman lying on the ground next to him.
Jillian Cromwell was alive but writhed in pain as parts of her foot had been blown away.
Alice and Justin attempted first aid on Jill’s foot, wrapping it with a wool scarf, before securing it with the belt off Justin’s waist.
"Steve, what happened?"
"When I entered, One-Foot over here," he began, nodding to Jill who whined and cradled her foot, "walked around the partition. She called out to the Preacher and ran back behind the wall. But before I could deal with them, I heard someone come out from the room behind me. He was going for a gun. I had to shoot him, no other choice..."
Binky looked back at Brad’s corpse. He didn’t say it, but he believed Steve.
"I went back inside the room, and the Preacher clocked me in the eye. He knocked the gun from my hand and went for it, but I kicked it away. Then he whipped out a knife and jumped at me. I rolled out of the way, and his blade snapped against the ground where I was. I glanced over and noticed One-Foot going for the gun, so I went after her. She had the shotgun shouldered and racked and was about the pull the trigger, but I forced the barrel down. She fired anyway and hit herself. Then the Preacher tackled me from behind. Next thing I know we are rolling around on the ground, wrestling, swinging, clawing, but in the end, I came up on top."
The Preacher spat a wad of blood in Steve's direction.
Steve pressed the barrel against the Preacher’s head. "Please, please give me a reason to blast your fucking head all over your friends."
The Preacher curled his lip and snarled.
"That's what I thought."
Binky backed up and leaned against the wall. "What now?"
"Now we walk him in the middle of town, and he confesses everything."
0808 hours
Steve had the barrel of his shotgun pointed at the Preacher's back, while Binky trailed behind, keeping watch over Alice, Jill and Justin.
"Open up!" Steve shouted.
The guard on top of the gate was reluctant to comply. “What’s going on?”
“He won’t open the gate.”
Steve pressed deeper into the Preacher’s spine. "Then convince him."
The Preacher scowled at Steve before changing his expression and accent to illicit sympathy. "Marvin, my son, all is fine. Please, do as Steven says.”
Marvin’s lanky body disappeared and moments later the gates swung outward. The grey-haired forty year old lifted his rifle unsure of who to point it at. "Lawkeeper, what’s going on?"
Steve answered first. "Go get everyone out of bed and tell them to meet us in front of the church.”
"Do as he says, Marvin,” Binky ordered.
The Preacher put up both hands. “Don't worry, my son, this is simply a misunderstanding."
Marvin turned heel and rushed down the street, yelling for the townspeople.
Steve yanked the Preacher around by the collar and put the gun to his chest. "Misunderstanding? You’re a fake, not to mention you killed my friend.”
The Preacher chuckled. "What do you think is going to happen here, Steven?"
"You are going to admit to everything, and we'll see what the people want done with you."
The answer made the Preacher laugh even harder.
"And what if I don't? The people love me. And what you're doing right now will just make them love me even more. You can't kill me. The people won't stand for it. Even if you do have the balls to pull the trigger, your act of retribution will make me a martyr. Then they'll kill you and your friends. Are you ready to start killing dozens of innocent people? You haven't thought this out have you? I'm afraid you have just condemned yourselves."
Binky appeared cautiously pessimistic. "I hate to admit it, but he might be right. What's the plan?"
Preacher’s got a point, Steve. How are you going to convince these people if he keeps up the charade?
“I'm thinking," Steve said, unsure. “Go on, let’s move!”
The Preacher continued chuckling all the way inside. The game, the illusion, it was all too amusing. All too perfect.
As they passed by the Sheriff’s station, Steve called out, "Eddy! Get everyone and come outside!"
The door cracked open, and Jenny popped her head out. "Steve is everything okay?"
"Ya it is, um, well, it will be. Just get Eddy, Lisa and LT out here, okay?”
“Okay!”
A moment later, Jenny came out, armed with a handgun. Landon and Lisa followed, carrying rifles.
Last to exit was Eddy who came limping out with a shotgun as his crutch. "We're with ya, Steve.”
The townspeople came outside, many still in their gowns and night clothes. They all bore expressions of confusion and panic
as they saw the Preacher, Justin, Jill and Alice being held at gun point.
"What's the plan, Steve?" asked Lisa.
"Yes, what is the plan, Steven?" the Preacher repeated, sarcastically.
"I don’t know yet...just stay close to us.”
The armed group passed by a myriad of faces. Some concerned, some angry with weapons in their hands. “What’s the meaning of this?” they called out.
Steve and his group made it to the steps of the church and turned around.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Steve,” Binky whispered, growing nervous as the town approached like a lynch mob.
The Preacher smirked and whispered, "Me too.” Then he turned to his people and continued the act. "It is okay, my children, I am fine. These wounds will heal,” he declared in an attempt to gain sympathy- and convincing he was. “Sadly, I cannot say the same about Binky and his agents of evil. Our Lawkeeper and these heathens murdered Blake and Bradley in their sleep! Then took us hostage for reasons that are still unknown-"
"Shut up!" Steve yelled, hitting the Preacher on the back of the head. "Enough! Enough of this!"
The townspeople gasped. The braver and more infuriated, took an aggressive step forward.
Shit, Steve. What’s the plan? Come on man, think!
As the Preacher suggested, Steve had not planned this far ahead, nor had he realized how deeply influenced these people were; how much this "Preacher" meant to them. So, he just started speaking, hoping the truth would be enough.
"I know what all of you are thinking, but it is not what it looks like."
"Then what is it?"
“Cause it looks like you’re intending to murder the Preacher!”
"This man,your preacher, is a liar! He is not a man of God like he claims to be. He is not your protector and healer. He’s a fake! An imposter!"
The townspeople shuffled about and began speaking with one another, but no one appeared to believe Steve’s words.
"It's true!” followed Binky. "I didn't believe it at first, but it is the truth! Listen to him, please!"
He pulled out the flyer and passed it to the first person who would accept it.
"What you're looking at," Steve continued, "is a picture of your beloved Preacher. He is not the man you believed him to be. He is an illusionist from Las Vegas. See for yourself! Take away the mustache and flamboyance and that is him!"
As the new evidence was passed from one person to the next, angry faces began to show signs of curiosity, and the Preacher observed.
"Don't listen to them, my children! They are trying to fill your head with lies! They are evil in disguise! God sent them to us as a test, to make certain we are worthy of Heaven! Please, do not listen to these heathens!"
"One more word," Steve grumbled.
"It is the truth,” Landon said, stepping forward next. “Night before last, I saw him, Jill and the others in the castle. Heard them talking about-"
"What were you doing there?" questioned a voice in the crowd.
Landon licked his lips and explained how he showed Steve and Nick outside the walls so Steve could find the materials to make the antibiotics for Eddy. Then how Nick discovered Brad, Blake, Justin and Jill in the castle, taking drugs, drinking, smoking and doing everything they had been told was “unclean.” He described in detail how the Preacher controlled the demon; the lies and illusions of this grand spectacle.
"I was helping them help their friends," Landon finished.
"The man you killed last night!" roared Eddy.
The townspeople were now more nervous than concerned.
"What are you saying?”
“None of this is true?”
“We aren’t going to Heaven soon?”
“God didn't want him sacrificed?"
"Of course God didn't want him sacrificed! Nick," Steve paused, staring at his friend's body. He shook off the momentary depression but not the anger. "Nick was a good man! A man who you sentenced to death because you believed this fraud! Nick wasn't the Antichrist conspiring to bring evil in here! He wasn't trying to compromise the safety of this town or engage in drug use! He was a victim of a terrible lie and a master manipulator! This man!"
Steve pulled the Preacher up by his hair. "Tell them the truth,” he whispered. “Admit to everything. Or you die."
The Preacher gazed at his flock. Between the multiple confirmations and strong physical evidence, many of the townspeople were on the fence, but reluctant to abandon the Preacher.
"Is this true?"
"What is going on, Father?"
"As the centurion looked upon Jesus, so am I an innocent man!” exclaimed the Preacher.
Steve fired a shot just next to the Preacher’s ear. The pellets burned into the mud, safely away from the crowd; a crowd whose members, because of Steve’s wild actions, were drawn back to the Preacher’s side.
"Go ahead, Steven. Make a martyr out of me.”
Steve looked back at his friends.
Then to Nick.
What would you do, Nick? Part of me wants to blow the Preacher’s head off, but what’s the right thing to do? How can I save everyone? How can I get justice?
Then Steve’s mind slowed everything down enabling him to observe and deliberate a rapidly failing plan.
The shouts from the increasingly aggressive mob, though deafened, intensified the drama.
The looks of uncertainty and panic from his friends heightened the anxiety.
What are you going to do, Steve? You’re all out of plays…
Steve’s eyes fell upon the Preacher. The man snickered and sneered then raised an eyebrow as though saying, "Your move, Steven.”
Then, as though Nick’s spirit whispered the words, the idea came to him. "I've got it!" Steve shouted, lowering the gun. "I can prove it to you! Follow me!"
***
"This proves nothing!" The Preacher laughed. "What do you hope to gain from this, Steven?"
Eager and curious, the townspeople congregated on the top of the wall. Shoulder to shoulder most everyone managed to fit.
“A test," Steve said, closing the gate, while remaining outside with Binky and the Preacher.
"A test of what?"
"Maybe you can levitate over the gates," Binky suggested dryly.
“Oh my dear keeper of the law, how you make me laugh-”
Without warning, Steve raised his shotgun at the Preacher and fired once, twice, three times.
“Steve, no!” shouted Binky.
But the pellets struck no flesh. As intended, Steve sent them just barely over the Preacher’s head.
The crowd had ducked, but nervously stood after the echo rang out.
Chuckling, the Preacher lifted his body from the mud as though Steve missed or could not bring himself to kill him. "I'm waiting for my instructions.”
"You'll get them soon enough. Patience is a virtue,” Steve answered, loading the shotgun with shells from his pocket.
Then came the waiting.
All eyes focused on the Preacher, shifting periodically to Steve, then out to the vacant forest. For over three minutes nothing had happened. And with each passing second, the Preacher’s confidence and vigor grew, while Steve’s plan fizzled out.
"My children! You can see this man is trying to manipulate you, to confuse you into thinking I am the bad one," the Preacher shouted, attempting to reconvert his former converts. "To use these 'facts' as a way to distort your reality. The reality is that I am-"
"In trouble," Steve interrupted. He pointed to the path ahead, near where Kelly was killed.
Two infected had heard the gunshots and finally limped their broken bodies to the source. They locked on to the Preacher and released gargled moans with outstretched arms.
"You wanted your instructions and here they are. You are God's vessel, right? He has granted you protection over the demons right? You can control them, right? And heal from their bites? You do that, and I'll hand you my gun."
The Preacher sidestepped, n
early getting tangled up by his own feet. "My children, please!" he exclaimed. The panic was equally as evident in his face and cracking voice. "This-this test is without merit. God-"
"Will protect you!"
"You have done this before!"
"You have God on your side!"
“Through Him you can do all things!”
"I-I have not had time to pray," the Preacher argued. He looked back at the infected who had closed the distance by half.
On his butt, the Preacher kicked back toward the gate, but Steve and Binky held up their weapons. "What's it going to be? Truth or let thedemons set you free?"
The Preacher grit his teeth. He looked up at his people, then at the infected, and finally back to Steve. He grabbed desperately onto Steve’s leg, begging. "Fine, fine! Let me in! I'll confess everything! Just let me in!"
"Not ‘til you say it first,” Steve said, shaking off the Preacher’s hand. "And time is ticking."
"Fine! Fine! Fine!" He looked up at the people and quickly said, "It's true! Every word! I'm a fraud!"
Then Steve lowered his gun and smiled. He dragged the Preacher inside as the two infected slammed into the gate, pounding their decomposing fists to no avail.
The people filed down the stairs and circled around the Preacher and his cohorts.
"So it's true?" they asked.
"Yes!" the Preacher shouted, defeated but heated. "It's all true. Iconfess! I'm not apreacher, notGod’s vessel!”
Shocked, the people seemed unable processed the admission. “But everything you can do-”
"I can't actually levitate, you fools!”
The anger-fueled Preacher demonstrated the act of levitation, using his heels and tiptoes to create the illusion.
"But you healed us! My bladder?" a confused Mrs. Pendergast cried out.
"Psht,” he snorted in derision. “Jill slipped antibiotics in your tea when you weren't looking. Same with most of you."
"But the demons?"
"You people are fucking stupid! Those aren't demons outside! I don't know what they are, but they aren't demons!” he yelled, spinning in a circle. “I made it up so you wouldn't leave. Made you think this was the Promised Land so you'd do what I told youuntil God comes and takes you home! You are all pathetic! Baaaaa, pathetic little sheep!"
The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side Page 62