“We need to go,” he said.
She touched the dead man on the table and nodded. They left the room.
“You hungry?” he asked, which he realized was a terrible thing to say after they had just left the dead guy behind, but when he glanced back and found her nodding, he ducked into another office. This one had a desk, but no chairs. He tossed his pack on the desktop and sat down next to it. From inside the nylon knapsack, he withdrew a Swiss Army knife and a beat-up can of dog food. He opened the can and sniffed the contents. It didn’t smell spoiled, but with dog food, it was difficult to tell. Protein was protein, and he was fresh out of raptor jerky.
“Might not taste too great, but it is food. I think.”
He handed her the can. His own stomach growled in protest, but he was too unsettled to eat. She scooped out a handful of the brownish slop with stained fingers and ate greedily. Her hand darted in and out of the can and then back to her lips. When she finished with the contents, she scraped the insides with her index finger and licked it clean.
“I guess you were hungry.” He tried to smile at her again. It felt strange to do so since he was so unpracticed with the gesture. She gazed back with a distant look in her eyes, not seeming to care.
He scooted off the desk and onto his feet. “Time to go.”
It would be dark soon, and they could either stay here, or return to his shelter. If they remained, he wasn’t sure he could find and block all the entrances in time. He decided it was best to chance it. His shelter offered much better protection. If they hurried, he was sure they could make it there in time.
“Stay close.”
They left the room, and he retraced his way back to the stairwell. At the bottom, he stopped to reattach the bag filled with raptor meat to his knapsack. It had mostly stopped dripping. She waited patiently while he worked. He slowly began to think that taking her along was the best decision. She seemed to be able to follow him without question. That was essential. He couldn’t protect her if she just ran off on her own. So maybe this was his lucky day. Maybe things would go better for a while. He’d killed an entire pack of raptors today, found food, and topped it off by finding another living, breathing person in the city that was not out to rob, rape, or kill him. And the best part of the day was having seen Hannah. She’d even waved to him this time.
With the girl following closely behind, he made his way through the pile at the bottom of the stairwell and out onto the desolate streets of the city. Once they reached the cracking asphalt, the girl put an arm around his waist and hugged him. He was at first shocked by the gesture. It seemed a little strange for her to be hugging a complete stranger, but that same gesture relaxed him and told him that what he was doing was right. Soon, he found himself wrapping his arm around her and hugging back. Looking down the deserted street, he reached up to touch his cheek, thinking he was brushing away a fly, but his fingers came away wet with tears.
-14-
REVELATIONS
CORY WAS ON the hood of the Toyota Prius, resting his back against the cracked windshield. The day had faded into pink and orange. Night would soon descend on the compound, and they still had not offered him anything to eat. If he became desperate, he did have an apple or two in his knapsack, picked from a backyard tree he had found along his route. They had been inside the house for some time, maybe an hour. He hoped they had not decided to kill him. That might prove rather inconvenient.
Unscrewing the lid from a plastic water bottle, he drank until it was empty. He would have to find more soon. So far, he had not spotted a well, or any other sources of water, but he had seen people carrying buckets. He watched the comings and goings carefully, pretending not to, still taking in every detail. He wanted to know the exact layout and patterns of movement to ease his quick escape when it came to that, which he figured would be soon. A curious-looking man in a plaid overcoat and blue slacks ambled his way in front of the farmhouse, moving with a step, drag, step motion. He climbed his way up to the porch and leaned over one of two metal oil drums speckled with holes. He lit something inside. A fire flickered and rose. He moved to the second, lit it too. Not only did the people here look like hillbillies, Cory thought, they might even be circus folk too for all he knew. And what was with lighting a fire so close to the house? Crazy. They could burn it down. Then what?
After the man had started the twin fires, people began to emerge from nearby tents or came out from behind the house. They were gathering in the dirt near the front porch. Those closest sat on what little tufts of grass remained. Those behind, stood. A group of six children lined themselves up along the front. Cory hadn’t seen children in a long time.
Raptors loved children.
He slid off the hood of the Prius and joined the growing crowd, but remained at the back. A few gave him quick appraisals then returned hostile, unwelcoming looks. Others smiled and nodded absently. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, he spotted the two men charged with guarding him and acting as his shadows. They were staying about twenty feet back. He also estimated the distances to the men with bows. If he could keep out of their direct line of fire, or make their shots too difficult, he could go up and over the wall, only giving them one or two clear chances before he vanished into the darkness. More continued to gather near the porch. He searched the group for additional threats, realizing his time here might just be coming to a quicker end than expected. He was ready, though. Bring it on. Most in the crowd would probably not harass him directly, but they could move the wrong way or otherwise attempt to impede his escape. Though, that might be something he could use to his advantage.
A quiet settled on those gathered, alerting him that something important was about to begin. Seconds later, a blond-haired man stepped from the crowd and up to the porch and stood between the twin barrels. He was holding a long wooden spear with a metal tip. He rapped the butt of the spear three times on the porch, waited for a bit, and then opened the front door to the house. Using an exaggerated motion, as if he were a steward at some royal court, he shuffled backward with his head bowed low, leading the opening door.
Everyone waited. A minute passed. Cory could sense a building excitement in the crowd though no one spoke above a whisper, so he wondered what it could be. Finally, Noah emerged through the doorway and stepped onto the porch. His hard-soled boots clattered on the worn boards. He was dressed in a white-linen robe that covered him from his neck to his feet. He wore an oversized wooden cross that hung down across his chest, and he was holding a book embossed with another cross, this one golden. A look of calm serenity painted the man’s face. He radiated power. Cory moved in closer, keeping watch on those near him. He rechecked the guards on the closest platform. Their attention was shifting between Noah and what lay outside the walls. Their divided attention might give him the hesitation he needed to make his escape.
Noah raised his arms, spreading his fingers wide. “My children,” he began.
Those gathered before him collectively seemed to draw breath. Cory relaxed a little. Just a little. It was hard not to. The man had a commanding presence, almost a reverence about him.
“We gather tonight in God’s supreme graces. It has been exactly five years since this greatest of cleansings began. Five long years of toil and strife.”
Cory thought about that. Five years? Exactly? He had lost track of time long ago. Not that it mattered all that much. Only the future mattered, and the certainty that there would be no future if he failed in his mission.
“Although we have struggled,” Noah continued, “it is clear God has not forsaken us, nor has He abandoned us in our time of need. Instead, He has blessed us, for we alone have survived and joined to live together in harmony while the wicked are consumed by the beasts.” He paused and drew breath. “Praise He and His divine mercy that has granted us a boon by loosing this greatest of cleansings upon the earth.”
“Praise be unto Him,” a woman near the front said.
Noah paused to acknowledge her with a n
od. “History at its very core has been reset. We all know that God Almighty gives those who deserve it a second chance. Sometimes He might grant a third, but He does so on his terms, not ours. For He is a merciful, all-knowing, all-powerful deity.”
Cory heard new mumbles of approval. He remained fixated in the irony of the term ‘merciful.’
“And the beasts, which are His greatest creation, were brought forth by a righteous hand. Delivered unto us for an important mission. And as God said unto Noah of old, ‘The end of all flesh is come before me. For the earth is filled with violence through them. And, behold, I will destroy them with the earth.’” He stopped to lick his lips. “Our burden, our mighty burden, placed upon us is but a test. And my children, through our continued struggle and fealty to the one true God above, we shall outlast and overcome this plague and be reborn again to spread His grace and beauty once again upon the earth.”
A man near the front cheered and gave a fist pump. Others nodded. Re-crossing his arms, Cory tilted his head sideways. He was interested in what this man had to say, as his take was just different enough from all the other assholes to be intriguing. But it was still bullshit, of course, much like the bullshit that had caused the near complete annihilation of all civilization. It was only the perspective of the participants that had been different.
“God has done us a great service by destroying the sinners dwelling on high within their evil cities. Those wicked, corrupted souls whose greed brought forth the seeds of their own destruction. It is they who have been banished to the fires of everlasting damnation.”
Noah’s words died off in the applause of the crowd. He reached down, opened the book he held, and turned to a bookmarked page. “Genesis 6:7, ‘And the Lord said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth. Both man, and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air. For it repenteth me that I have made them.’”
That was a passage Cory had heard used repeatedly to describe their current situation. It was one of the all-time favorites for the end of the world crazies. It equated the raptors to some kind of plague sent by God. What bullshit. If they only knew the truth.
Noah continued quoting other passages from his bible. Cory tuned it out. He focused instead on watching the reaction of the individuals around him. All were taken in by the man’s words. He recognized the danger of that. He had seen it so many times before. No matter what he might say, these people had made up their minds over what had brought about the raptors. Nothing he could say would ever change it either. But he did recognize that Noah was an impostor, a charlatan. He was playing these people, using them. They all accepted it willingly too, just like slaves asking to be shackled, afraid to face life without someone telling them exactly what to do, day in, day out. Ultimately, Cory did understand. He had made the same mistake. He had put his faith in something once, in someone specifically. He had become a true believer only to find out that he had been used. That lesson left him empty, with a dried husk of beliefs devoid of any real meaning.
Noah stopped speaking. With an oddly familiar dramatic flair, he snapped his bible closed. Something about the way he moved reminded Cory of Professor LaPaz. Noah gazed out over the assembled group. The crowd looked back. They were enthralled, in rapture, totally under his control. Some held their hands in the air. Others kept their heads bowed.
“Though God has destroyed the wicked,” Noah continued, “He has permitted some to survive to speak of His glory. They are the people who will work together and repopulate the earth. And one day the world will be made whole again. These survivors will be the new Adams, the new Eves. It is their destiny. So, when we perish and leave our earthly bonds to stand before God and be judged, we can testify we accepted his love, and have done His bidding.”
That brought a cheer from those assembled, along with hands raised in praise. Cory caught himself shaking his head. Cautiously, he looked left and right, hoping it was too dark for anyone to have noticed.
Noah smiled broadly. His white teeth glowed orange in the firelight. “Tonight, we have someone new among us who wishes to know and embrace God’s plan for him.” His eyes descended on Cory. The crowd turned to follow his gaze. “I have watched him. God delivered him unto our doorstep. He has traveled far across this great country and has witnessed the cleansing firsthand. I can see reflected in him that he has been tested by many great trials. And, because he has been delivered unto us unscathed, he has passed these tests that God has given him. Yet, we do not know if he will be welcome among us. Is he a friend, a foe, or something else? Is he perhaps an ignorant, innocent child in God’s eyes, or is he a beast as dangerous as those outside our walls?”
Every face turned to Cory. In some, he saw questions, mild accusations. Others, their gazes burned with hatred. Reaching for his sword, he took one step backward, narrowing his eyes, scanning for threats. Noah climbed down off the porch and into the crowd. They parted around him and reformed behind. He raised his arms above his head in a calming gesture, and then lowered them once he stood before Cory.
In a booming voice, he said, “Fear not, stranger. We mean you no harm. In fact, we would like you to join us. There is strength here. Faith. Love. Companionship. What do you say?” Noah then lowered his voice so that only Cory could hear. “Make sure you choose wisely, son.”
Cory nodded slowly. It did not matter what he told the guy now. By morning, he would be gone, one way or another.
Noah placed a hand on the side of Cory’s head, cupping him under the ear. “Yes, I think you will work out quite well,” he said, grinning broadly.
A cheer rippled through the crowd. Soon they were collectively pumping their fists into the air. Even those on the platforms by the wall raised spears in a salute of respect toward Noah. Cory backed away from both the man’s touch and the cheering crowd, as a hunter might do when retreating from a wounded lion. He willed himself not to show signs of fear or submission, all the while preparing to escape. Noah let him have his space. He backed away too, leaving Cory alone and staring into a sea of empty faces.
Time ticked by.
Cory remained unmoving, caught between wanting to flee and knowing that if he attempted to do so, he might be hunted down and killed. Finally, Noah turned and raised his arms. The people parted before him. He walked back through them and into the house. Three women followed him inside, Eve included. The crowd began to disperse, returning to their tents or going behind the house. Some, to Cory’s amazement, stopped to touch him and smile. He did his best to return their smiles, but did not know whether it was a totally convincing act. Those that did not stop murmured things to their companions. Nasty things. He caught a few of those comments, but ignored them as he had done for most of his life.
When they finally appeared done with him, and the friendly gestures had all dried up, he left to go use one of the battered Porta-Potties out behind the house. They watched him the entire time.
Returning to the rusting Prius, he inspected it, and then climbed into the rear seat. No one stopped him from doing that, for which he was thankful. He was tired and wanted to get off his feet for a while. Inside the backseat, he propped his pack against the door and rested his head on it. He placed the sheathed katana across his chest, closed one eye, and kept the other slightly open, as he had trained himself to do. He dared not attempt to escape now while they were watching him so closely. Maybe in a couple of hours when things quieted down and the guards were fatigued, then he could leave. Then he could climb over the walls and sprint for the trees.
Chance favors the prepared aggressor, he had once read.
-15-
PROTECTION
JESSE WAS TEN long blocks from his shelter. The weather was already growing cold. In a matter of minutes, twenty he guessed, the sun would creep low enough to cast the entire area in shadow. When that happened, the raptors would emerge from their shelters. He needed to be in his.
The wind whispered in the emptiness surrounding him, occasionally grow
ing loud, and then going soft again. Beside him was the raccoon-faced girl. She was holding onto his untucked shirt and waiting patiently for him to do something. He squatted on one knee and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I have a safe place set up,” he said, “a shelter. Not too far from here. We have to hurry if we’re going to make it there in time. And, listen carefully. If we’re going to do this, you need to do whatever I say whenever I say it without hesitation, okay?” He locked eyes with her, emphasizing the importance with the stab of his stare. “You ready?”
She nodded.
“Good. Whatever happens, stay close to me. And for God’s sake, don’t fall behind.”
She said nothing.
As he stepped off the sidewalk and onto the street, he felt her hand brush against his shirttail, letting him know she was there. Still, he reached back to check. Just to be sure she was. Moving at a jog, they passed by the long abandoned buildings of the city block. Rotting wood, steel shutters, and broken glass covered the bottom floors. Rusting cars, trucks, and SUVs rested on flattened tires and lined both sides of the street. Evenly spaced trees, once neatly trimmed, now grew wild in their planters, and every available crack in the pavement overflowed with green weeds. Occasionally, Jesse had to slow to avoid stepping on the various lichen-covered bones on the sidewalk. He was pleased to see the girl do the same. During the winter, due to the snow that covered everything, it was difficult to avoid the bones. He’d more than once gotten his foot stuck in a ribcage or slipped on a skull.
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