Divided We Rot (One Nation Under Zombies Book 3)

by Raymond Lee

  “Very true,” Damian agreed as they continued on toward the church.

  “Raven, RUN!!!”

  Raven’s eyes popped open. She stared at the ceiling until the heat roasting her brain subsided enough to stop producing a sheen of tears, half blinding her. She blinked, allowing the built-up moisture to spill over and roll down her cheeks onto her wet pillow. Her mother’s voice echoed through her head, co clear. It had been as if she’d stood right over her bed. Her heart thumped faster than a dog on the trail of a rabbit. She could hear her heartbeat whirring away in her ears as panic climbed from her chest to clog her throat. But why?

  She slowly sat up, allowing time for the spinning room to do its whirly thing and get situated before she attempted to take stock of her surroundings. She took deep breaths, willing her heart to calm as the room came into focus.

  She was alone. Her bedsheets and the very shirt she wore were soaked with sweat again. A glass of water had been poured for her from the pitcher on the nightstand and her katana leaned against it, both within reach. She reached out with a trembling hand and drank the water, the relief of the liquid flowing over her parched tongue instantaneous.

  “Cruz?” She called out as best she could but even after drinking the water there just wasn’t much to her voice. The sickness was kicking her ass.

  Her bladder quickly informed her she needed to use the bathroom via a sharp jab of pain. She looked at the small bedroom window and could tell by lack of light shining through the curtain she’d been out of it long enough for the sun to have gone down. Worry set in as she wondered where Cruz was. He wouldn’t just leave her. Her bladder didn’t hesitate to remind her she’d have something else to worry about if she didn’t relieve herself soon.

  She swung her legs off the side of the bed and slowly rose to a stand. She gripped the edge of the bed and waited for the room to settle before she took a few tentative steps toward the door. “Look at me, walking and shit. I got this.”

  She managed to cover the distance to the bathroom and take care of business without falling on her face, her footsteps steadier with every inch she covered. Once done, she left the bathroom and walked around the cabin. Her stomach felt queasy and the fever still burned beneath her skin but she walked better with each step she took. She considered that a good sign and vowed to get up each day no matter how crappy she felt. “I can’t be weak.”

  She had to find Sky and lying in bed being cared for by Cruz wouldn’t help her find her little sister. She had to be strong and power through the virus, not let it ravage her and leave her damn near destroyed once it finally finished its war on her body.

  Something howled in the distance, sending a shiver down her spine. Having reached the living room she walked toward the front window and pulled back the curtain to see outside. Sun had set and the sky was a dark blue, speckled with more stars than she’d ever seen in the city. Through the silhouettes of trees stretching as far as her eyes could see she made out an elevated area of land, a mountain or cliff maybe? She thought she saw an animal atop it, its head thrown back as another long howl rent the air. She shivered again, wondering if there were wolves in the area. Where was Cruz?

  The fire had long burnt out of the fireplace and a cold soup filled a pot on the hearth. The cauldron-like pot he’d warmed water in earlier rested next to it. She looked down at the wet shirt she wore and wished the water was warm, and the pot was big enough to bathe in. She felt disgusting. A pile of clothes sat on the ratty old couch in a haphazard mess. She poked through it, finding a big flannel shirt to replace the wet one she had on. There were no pants for her in the pile and she had no idea where Cruz had stashed the dirty ones he’d taken off of her earlier. Her knees wobbled a little as she changed but she thought if she worked quickly she might be able to find fresh sheets in the linen closet and change her bed before Cruz got back, save him some of the trouble of caring for her. If he got back. She worried her chapped lip with her teeth, fearing he’d met a wolf or something even worse outside the cabin.

  She was threading the last button through its hole when she heard footsteps outside the cabin, a scuffling sound, and then the sound of a key scraping against the metal of the lock. The door knob turned and the door opened.

  She gasped as Cruz stepped inside, covered from head to toe in splashes of red. Half his face was bathed in a mix of the color and grime. He had a gash over his left eye that appeared to be bleeding but it was his right side that appeared to have been dipped in the color. It stained his face, neck, clothes, arms, and his shoes were totally drenched with it. There were holes in his shirt and a rip down his coat sleeve. His jeans were stained with the red color and dark splotches of what looked like dirt and maybe oil. She didn’t want to think of anything else it could be.

  “Honey, I’m home,” he said, slamming the door closed behind him. He held up a large dead bird he’d been holding by the neck. “I brought dinner.”

  “Is that a vulture?” she asked, her mouth drying out as she took in the sight of him covered in red, carrying a dead animal, and leering at her with eyes she swore were black when he first saw her.

  He threw the bird across the room and she cringed as she heard its bones crack upon hitting the wall next to the fireplace. He stretched his neck, moving his head side to side as if stretching out kinks but she couldn’t fight the feeling she’d had before that something was wrong with him. His red-covered skin seemed tauter than usual and again she felt like the man before her wasn’t really Cruz at all but a stranger wearing his skin.

  “Cruz? What happened? Where were you?”

  “I went out to get you dinner,” he said, pinning her with his dark glare. “I thought you were helpless, needed me. Yet here you are getting ready to leave me. You fucking liar.”

  “Cruz?” Her voice trembled as she fought not to show fear. She couldn’t keep her legs from shaking, giving her away. Something was seriously wrong with him. She remembered the voice that had awakened her, telling her to run, and wished she had. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” He laughed, the sound deep, throaty, and reeking with an evil that sounded unnatural coming from her friend. “Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m finally exactly who I’m supposed to be. I’m finally going to get what I deserve, starting with you.”

  “What are you talking about?” She backed closer to the fireplace, knowing there was a poker behind her she could use if he attempted to hurt her.

  “I’m going to give Cruz what he’s wanted since he first laid eyes on you and once I give him his prize I’m going to have my fun.”

  Her blood iced in her veins. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m the man who’s going to peel you like an onion.” His mouth slowly spread into a gruesome mockery of a smile before he lunged for her.

  Hal removed the plastic bottle he’d swiped from Pimjai’s room from his inner coat pocket and quickly filled it with water from the baptismal font as Damian and Janjai distracted Father John. The older man walked them around the church pointing out artwork that apparently he’d painted himself. Hal quickly filled the bottle, praying Damian didn’t insult the man’s talent. He’d wanted him distracted, not infuriated.

  He replaced the bottle inside his coat and walked across the room to join them just in time to catch the tail end of Damian advising the pastor that Jesus’s hair was reported to have the texture of wool.

  “Very interesting,” Father John said, looking anything but. His face brightened as he turned to greet Hal. “Mr. Brown. Hallelujah Brown, my I do love that name.”

  “Yes, I’ve always been happy with it.”

  “I noticed you admiring our baptismal font. Have you been baptized?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Very good. I make sure to baptize all of our brothers and sisters here if they were not already before arriving. It is so very important.”

  “Yes, it is.” Hal looked around. “I overheard you telling Damian you painted a lot of the artw
ork in here. I was actually admiring the structure of the church. Was this church already here when David created this community or was it built after?”

  “This church has been here since before I was born,” Father John stated. “David’s family has been here even longer, all of ‘em living in that house. David bought up a lot of the land several years ago and created this community. He kept the church so there would be a proper place of worship right on site and kept me on as pastor.”

  “So this community and all these buildings existed before the outbreak?”

  “Yes, and good thing too. The Lord saw to keep us protected and to send us people to be saved.”

  “Saved?”

  “Well, protected from what’s happening.” The pastor laughed off his gaffe. “The bible spoke of a time when the dead would rise. This is just like Noah and the flood. The evil of the world are being purged and when it’s all over we will rise again, a cleansed community of Godly men and women as we should have always been.”

  Hal stared at the man, unsure what to say. He knew better than to challenge his ideas but couldn’t bring himself to so much as nod his head.

  “What a blessed day that will be,” Damian said, surprising him. “You know, Father John, I think our friend Janjai looks tired. We wanted to show her around so she wouldn’t feel so out of place but I think we have exhausted her. I’m going to take her back on over to the hospital, Hal.”

  “All right,” Hal said, noting that Janjai hung her head and bashfully stifled a yawn, playing along.

  “It’s a shame she and her sister lost their husbands,” Father John said softly as Damian escorted Janjai down the aisle toward the front doors. “I’ve been looking for a wife myself.”

  Hal felt his eyebrows shoot into his hairline as he noted the interest in the pastor’s tone and watched him stare at Janjai until she and Damian exited the building. “Janjai and her sister don’t speak English. Their husbands knew their language.”

  “With the Lord anything is possible,” Father John said. “I hear Oriental women are very modest and submissive to their husbands. They make excellent wives.”

  Hal’s hands clenched into fists and he forced himself to calm his emotions and relax. “I, uh, noticed there’s a second floor.”

  Father John blinked and looked at him. “Oh, yes. I have a little apartment upstairs. I gave up my house to the doctor and his sister when they joined us. My wife passed shortly before the outbreak and we never were blessed with children so I don’t need all that space. There was an office upstairs and a room for Sunday school but I converted those rooms into my living quarters and we just do Sunday school right here in the chapel, or outside when the weather is nice.”

  “There’s no basement?” Hal inquired. “Most churches I’ve come across have basements for study groups or different events.”

  “We’re a very small community,” Father John said, his words clipped. “We have no need for a basement.”

  “Well, it’s a beautiful building. I enjoy the artwork.” He made a show of looking around before shaking the pastor’s hand. “Great sermon this morning. I need to check on my friend in the hospital before it’s time to retire for the evening.”

  “I understand. Rest well, friend.”

  Hal smiled, forcing the gesture as he withdrew his hand and scrounged up every ounce of willpower he had not to wipe it along his pant leg until he left the church. A small cluster of guards were talking to Damian in front while Janjai was nowhere to be found. He scanned the area, not seeing her. “Hey, Damian, where’s Janjai?”

  Damian turned toward him and released an exaggerated groan. “She got away from me again. I’ll find her.” He turned back toward the guards. “She doesn’t speak or understand a lick of English but that doesn’t stop her from just wandering off sometimes.”

  “We’ll help find her,” one of the guards, a freckle-faced blond offered, raising a walkie talkie to his mouth. Before he could speak into it his gaze locked on to something over Damian’s shoulder and he pointed. Hal turned to see Janjai coming around the corner of the church holding wildflowers in her hand.

  “Janjai!” Damian ran over to her. “You. Scared. Me,” he said, enunciating each word as he pantomimed being scared.

  Janjai looked up at him with an expression of genuine confusion before pointing to the flowers and pointing to an area behind the church. She smiled big and smelled the flowers before offering him one.

  “She loves flowers,” Damian said, rolling his eyes. “Thanks, guys, for the information.”

  “Sure thing,” the blond said as his heavier dark-haired friend studied them. The other guards spread out, reclaiming the places they must have been posted before Damian had managed to get them all huddled together. “The sun is setting. You’d better get her back where she belongs and get on back to your own quarters. It’ll be time for lights out soon enough.”

  “Thanks.” Damian grabbed Janjai under her elbow and led her away. Hal caught up to them. “What was that about?”

  “You wanted to know if anything was shady with the church. I figured I’d ask the guards about joining the security staff, distract them while she pretended to wander off and did a little snooping around the area behind the church.”

  “And the whole ‘What a blessed day’ thing?”

  “That was something my Aunt Boosie always said. Never really knew what she was talking about whenever she said it, but it sounded like an appropriate time to say it back there. That dude was going full bat turds back there so I went elsewhere before it got really weird.”

  “Yeah, you ducked out at the right time.” Hal looked down at Janjai, his gut twisting. He didn’t want to leave her and Pimjai behind, only Elijah for protection with the pastor eying her as a suitable mate but he had to get to Raven and Cruz. “The pastor keeps a living quarters on the second floor of the church. He seemed a little agitated when I asked about the basement. Said they have no need for one.”

  “They have something,” Janjai said, keeping her head down so the people leaving the hospital ahead of them wouldn’t see her talking. “There were cellar doors in back.”

  “So he lied,” Damian said. “Why lie unless you’re hiding something? Or someone.”

  Hal noted the fire in Damian’s eyes as the younger man looked back at the church and shook his head. “Don’t even think about it, Damian. I want to find her as soon as possible too, but we have to stay calm and play this smart. Two of us, unarmed except for some knives we buried are not enough against armed security and there are innocent people here mixed up in this mess. We have to think about them too.”

  “All I can think about is Leah. How much is she going to suffer before we get to her?”

  “Not as much as she will if we don’t find Raven and Cruz and come back here armed. Keep the faith.”

  They reached the front of the hospital. Hal opened the door for Damian and Janjai and followed them in. Gemma was at the front desk. She froze when she looked up to see it was them. “It’s getting late and you’ll be expected back in your quarters soon,” she said to Damian. “You’d better get her back with her sister, collect your other friend and get on back. Hal, I have those results to go over with you.”

  Damian looked back at him, brow furrowed.

  “Yeah, I had a test done,” Hal explained, catching on. “Go get Elijah and I’ll see you back at Block D before lights out.”

  Damian looked between them quizzically, seemed to notice the few other patients taking up cots in the room, and nodded before leading Janjai away.

  “If you’ll follow me to the examination room,” Gemma said, leading him past the cots, into a small room in a narrow hall just beyond. She closed the door behind them and let out a big breath before turning to face him. “I asked a couple people about your friend.”

  Hal looked around the small room. It was a basic exam room with an examination table, a sink and counter loaded with supplies and a rolling stool for the doctor to sit on. There wa
s a metal folding chair next to the exam table. Hal opted to remain standing. “What did they say?”

  “None of the women I asked knew anything about her,” she said. “The only new women they heard anything about are the sisters who’ve been staying here. It’s like your friend, Leah, never existed.”

  “You know she exists. You saw her.”

  “I know.” She wrung her hands together. “This means you were lied to about there being an altercation in the women’s quarters this morning. If they put her in isolation, it wasn’t for that.”

  “If they put her in isolation?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I believe you. I believe that they told you they put her in isolation so that’s most likely what happened, but they lied about the reason and the time. Hal, they had to have taken her to isolation right after leaving here yesterday.”

  “That’s what we were thinking.”

  Gemma’s eyes narrowed in thought as she angled her head to the side. “You had this place pegged right from the start. Funny how many people don’t seem to acknowledge it, the wrongness here.”

  “You’re not a big fan of the community.”

  “It’s a cult. You know it. I can tell.” She folded her arms and leaned back against the door. “I’m pretty safe because they need my brother. He loves it here. He can save lives and not deal with the monsters out there. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s something dark lurking on the inside of this place.”

  “But it matters to you.”

  “Yeah, but he’s my brother. I stay where he stays and we do have food and shelter here. They don’t give me too much trouble, but I feel bad for the other women here. I heard they’re talking about marrying off a thirteen-year old.” She looked at him. “What did Leah do?”