by Jack J. Lee
The first thing that Graydon showed me was the bodies of the four vampires that had been killed last night. I encourage my men to make decisions for themselves. Graydon and Lavel had been too curious to wait until I woke up to examine the bodies of the fallen angels. They opened the bin and pulled out the bodies into direct sunlight. The sun had caused the flesh on the corpses to evaporate. All that was left was bones. These things really were vampires.
Our wounded were doing well. There were no signs of anyone being sick or infected. I told Graydon that I wanted to have guards watching them for a week.
Every electrical device outside the tower had been destroyed. None of the vehicles parked outside my tower could be started but the three full size trucks that had been parked in the tower garage ran fine. My fears about an EMP had been justified. It puzzled me that we hadn’t seen any sign of a nuclear blast. I checked for a change in the ambient radiation levels. The Geiger counter didn’t show anything new.
Lavel had never liked the idea of using mud brick. Now that we had to worry about fallen angels, he definitely didn’t want to continue using handmade brick. Before the Outbreak, he owned an excavation company. He didn’t think it would take much work to get his heavy equipment operating again. Most cranes, excavators, and bull dozers were diesel powered and didn’t have a lot of electrical controls. He suggested going into St. George for concrete and rebar.
Lavel was right. We didn’t have time to build things by hand. I had been lucky last night. If that vampire hadn’t stepped on a mine and gotten a leg blown off, I probably would not have had time to shoot it three times in the head and I would have died. We didn’t have time to waste. We needed walls that were high enough and strong enough to keep vampires out. We only had ten Marlin Guide Guns. We needed more big game rifles. We needed to get supplies from St. George.
Someone yelled that men on horseback were coming to our walls. It was the Paiutes. Last night they had been attacked by vampires. Eight of them had been killed. They wanted to shelter with us. I told them if they stayed in New Zion they had to follow all our ways and they would have to pay for their lodgings with the rest of their surviving livestock including horses. George Smith spoke for the Paiutes. He replied that following rules and giving up their livestock was better than dying. I sent Lavel off to get the Paiutes settled.
I wanted to see what was going on in Colorado City while we still had daylight. I brought half the disciples and 20 men with me. I had all the men I could fit into 3 trucks. When we got to Colorado City, we were surrounded by the FLDS. Nothing looked different. The Colorado City FLDS had boarded up their window and reinforced their doors but hadn’t put up any other fortifications since I was last here a week ago.
I went to meet with Rachel and the elders. They had been visited by vampires too. Two days ago a few of their male slaves had attacked and killed a guard. Rachel had six of them hung up on crosses. During the night vampires fed on these men. The rest of them had been left alone. The Colorado City FLDS were certain it was a miracle. They said these vampires had been foretold by Darren Jeffries. The vampires were fallen angels.
I explained to the elders that we needed to salvage supplies and we were going to clear the highway to St. George. I made sure that they understood that I had no intentions of interfering with how they dealt with the gentiles.
Chapter 24: Hiram Rockwell, April 13th to April 28th, Year 1
A few minutes after Rachel had left; I was taken back to the cage. I fell asleep immediately. Next morning the guards brought in the rest of my men. We had all been interrogated. I didn’t ask for details. Besides Max, who had been shot when we got captured, none of us had any major injuries. I was the only one who had been cut by a razor blade while being questioned.
There was no point in talking to the others about what had happened to me. I don’t think what Rachel had done to me qualified as rape but it was close. I was still a virgin but it was clear to me I might not be one for much longer. She could take me at any time. I knew this was supposed to bother me; it didn’t. Yes, I personally didn’t want to have sex with her and if I had a choice I wouldn’t. But there were a lot worse things. Rachel could have been ugly, or worse, a guy. I couldn’t get myself all that worked up about a beautiful psychotic bitch using me for her filthy pleasure.
Around noon, the tired looking woman came back with energy bars and bottles of water. Nothing else happened until after dark. The guards lit kerosene lamps. I was taking a nap when I heard a loud voice.
“Listen sinners, there’s a new sheriff in town and that’s me, Leo Buckson. Things are going to change from now on. I’m not going to tolerate any disrespect. If I say or want anything, it better get done right quick.”
Leo Buckson looked like he was a little older than me, maybe in his early thirties. He was almost as tall and about fifty pounds heavier. He looked like an ex-football player that was just starting to get soft.
Leo walked over to the cage next to ours and started taunting the man inside. He thanked the man for raising such beautiful daughters. Leo described how he had abused them last night. He planned on playing with them for a few more weeks until he got bored then giving them to someone else. The prisoner started screaming and tore at his cage. Leo laughed.
Leo spoke loud enough for all of us in the warehouse to hear. He told us we were all vampire food. Every few days one of us would be fed to their vampire. Prisoners that cooperated would live longer. Those that didn’t would be taken first.
The taunted man continued to scream “I’m going to kill you!”
Buckson grinned and motioned at some guards. Three FLDS with batons walked into the cage and started beating the poor guy. After a few minutes the prisoner was a moaning wreck on the ground. They chained him and took him out of the warehouse. I put Buckson on my list.
Every few days they took one of us. We had been only getting one meal a day. I guess they didn’t see any need to feed men they were planning on killing. I hadn’t seen Rachel since she questioned me. Before Buckson took over as head guard, security had been tight. The guards had been alert. Leaders are important; their attitudes affect their men. I never met the previous head guard but I knew he was a pro—organized and efficient. The guards used to treat us like we were dangerous. Buckson was a slob; he had nothing but contempt for us. The guards got sloppy.
In the beginning, whenever a SaLT was taken out of the cage, guards with shotguns stood outside to act as backup. When they took Hank Barstow, the guards were armed with batons.
By April 28th, we were down to just three SaLTs. It was me, Max Sutter, and Wayne Lockland. We had played it cool since we got captured. I wanted us to look harmless. Buckson had told us that when we were taken, we would be set free in a fighting pit. Leo was too dumb to lie. We would have a chance to fight back against the vampire that was coming for us. We had seen what the guards did to prisoners that resisted. They beat the prisoners with clubs. The chances of a man taking out a vampire barehanded were minimal but it was possible. The Director had done it. But if you had just been beaten with clubs, your chances of taking out a vampire went from slim to none.
After Hank was taken, I spoke quietly to Max and Wayne. I told them I wanted them to stay close together at the end of the cage, furthest away from the door. When the guards came in, I wanted them to beg and plead. None of the SaLTs had done this before. Buckson loved it when his victims begged. I knew the sight of SaLTs pleading would grab his attention.
A couple hours after nightfall, six guards came to our cage. They didn’t bring shotguns. When the guards entered the cage, Wayne and Max ran to the back and started blubbering. I sat at the side of the cage my back against the wall, perfectly still. Eyes are drawn to movement; I wanted to be invisible. None of the guards were paying attention to me.
Max should have been a movie star. He had real tears running down his face as he whimpered, “I don’t want to die!” Buckson was having too much fun slapping Max to pay any attention to me.
When I woke I realized that my arms were chained behind me. It was hard to see. I could barely open one eye. The other was too swollen to open. I spit out a tooth. Wayne was gone. Max looked as bad as I felt. His left sleeve was soaked with blood and his face was a purple mess.
“What happened to Wayne?”
“Sarge, you’re wake.” Max began to chuckle. “It was awesome. The look on Leo’s face when you grabbed him was priceless.” Max started laughing so hard, he couldn’t speak. It was infectious. Damn, it hurt to laugh.
“The guards were so focused on you and Leo, that Wayne was able to take a baton from one of them. I think he killed one and crippled two others before they got him down.”
With my wrists chained and Max’s wounded arm, we only had one working arm between the two of us. Max helped me up. I looked outside the cage. The guards were carrying shotguns again. I had a feeling that they weren’t loaded with rock salt.
Chapter 25: Mark Jones, April 13th, Year 1
I woke up at first light. It didn’t take long to get all the Cedar City survivors loaded on our buses and headed back to Salt Lake City. Afterwards we cleared out Cedar City Airport. Our plane was on its way from Salt Lake. I wanted updated aerial overviews of all the FLDS held areas. Our powered parachutes were too slow to safely do flyovers when men with rifles were shooting at them.
I sent scouts out to FLDS held territory. We needed intel. The scouts were told to avoid firefights if possible, but their mission was to bring back at least two FLDS to question.
The plane arrived from Salt Lake City around noon. I was talking to the pilot when I got word the scouts were back with two prisoners. The operation had gone smoothly. No one had been hurt.
Jim Wright led me to the prisoners. They were in their twenties and they were pissed. They didn’t seem to realize they were in trouble. The louder one, Levi Linter, was certain we had made a terrible mistake and the wrath of god and the FLDS was going to come down on our heads.
If anyone could be considered the heart and soul of the SaLTs, it would have been Hiram Rockwell. The two FLDS had been lucky that Jim had been in charge of the squad that captured them. Although Jim and Hiram were tight friends, he kept his emotions and his men under control. Other than being tied up and gagged, the FLDS hadn’t been abused.
I wanted to have at least two FLDS to question because I had to be able to make sure their stories matched. I wasn’t opposed to using harsh interrogation techniques if necessary. They weren’t necessary. Both men were tied to chairs and placed in separate rooms. As soon as the duct tape had been pulled off Levi’s mouth, he started talking.
He claimed God had sent the outbreak to destroy the sinners. Anyone who wasn’t FLDS was a sinner. He described how the FLDS had been going through southern Utah, capturing other non-FLDS survivors and enslaving them. They had been putting the more docile survivors to work and killing the ones who fought back. He even volunteered that they had been feeding gentiles to a vampire.
According to Levi, Ari Levin was a false prophet whose time would soon end. The FLDS had split into two camps, one centered in Colorado City and the other at New Zion. As proof of why Levin had to be a false prophet, Linter described the horrible things that were going on in New Zion. New Zion tolerated other religions and didn’t tolerate slavery.
Levi confirmed what Ari Levin had already told me. The FLDS community was almost on the verge of civil war. The FLDS in Hurricane, Hildale, and Colorado City considered themselves the true FLDS. Levi hated Prophet Levin but was also frightened of him. He believed that Ari had magical powers. He claimed that Levin’s powers came from Satan.
Linter answered all my questions without prodding. It sounded like he had been on the other side of interrogations enough to know the value of answering questions quickly and honestly but he was still an idiot. He thought bragging about how many men he had murdered and women he had raped would intimidate the SaLTs to setting him free.
We questioned Linter three hours. The other FLDS prisoner independently confirmed what Levi had said. We moved both of them outside to the parking lot. They were kept tied to their chairs.
In front of my men, I turned to Jim, “Lieutenant, the Fortress Salt Lake Council has declared war on the FLDS. Is this statement correct?”
“Director, I was present when the council made the formal declaration. We are at war.”
“I am Federal Director of Emergency Services in Utah and the Director of the Salt Lake City Troopers. In times of war, I have authority to make summary judgements for war crimes. It is my judgement that these two men in front of me have admitted guilt for multiple counts of murder and rape. Their confessions have been freely given without coercion. The penalty for both crimes is death.” I stood up and drew my sword.
It had finally dawned on Levi he was in trouble, “No, wait!” He started to struggle.
I considered beheading him. I decided against it. The spray of blood from a severed neck would cause too much of a mess. I placed my sword tip between his 4th and 5th ribs just left of his sternum. It took just a few ounces of pressure to slide my blade inches into his chest. I felt the spasm of his heart around my blade. When he was clearly dead and there was no chance of blood squirting out, I unsheathed my katana from Linter’s chest. Levi’s friend was crying. He wasn’t bothering to plead. In a few seconds, he was dead too.
Chapter 26: Ari Levin, April 11th, Year 1
Ninety-nine percent of intelligence gathering is mind-numbingly boring; it’s the one percent that makes it all worthwhile. The EMP six months ago had destroyed all the bugs I had in Colorado City and Hildale. I had replacement bugs but without a functioning electrical grid to give them power they were useless. Fortunately I had a backup plan.
Until the Outbreak, cell phones were used all over the world. If I wanted to suck up to a Taliban headman or warlord, I’d give them a smart phone. Smart phones already have all the features necessary to be used as an audio surveillance tool. They have great microphones and have enough memory to store hours of audio. It’s easy to program a smart phone to take voice activated recordings and to make it look like it’s turned off when it is actually on.
It appears to be a universal flaw of the human mind; if something is commonplace, it can’t be dangerous. Terrorists are usually smart enough to know that cell phone conversations can be tapped or intercepted; they often use coded messages. Very few worry about their phones sitting in their pockets or on their bed stands when the phones appear to be turned off.
I had six of these phones. I kept one for myself and gave the others to Rachel and four of the highest ranked FLDS in Colorado City. The coolest thing about these phones was that they could also be used as walkie-talkies. Cellular services were down permanently but the walkie-talkie function still worked. I gave Rachel and the others pedal powered battery rechargers. Once I set up a couple of radio signal boosters between New Zion and Colorado City, we were able to use these phones to keep in touch. Whenever these phones were used to communicate, compressed digital audio files were radioed to me.
Two of the FLDS men sometimes forgot to carry their phones but the rest didn’t. Rachel used hers to schedule all her appointments. It was useful to know her exact schedule. I had an agreement with Rachel. Anytime she questioned a prisoner, she was supposed to make an audio recording and give it to me. Since I expected her to lie to me, I made sure to keep up-to-date on her cell phone surveillance.
My sanctum is a completely sealed room located deep in the tower that could only be opened by me; the door had a biome
tric lock that scanned my thumb print and iris at the same time. I used voice recognition software to turn all the audio recordings into text. The software wasn’t perfect and five to ten percent of a recorded conversation always got garbled but it was better than the alternative. Written transcripts were much easier to skim. I didn’t have much time to go through the transcripts. It was a week day and Catrina was expecting me to in the bedroom in an hour.
I’ve never been in love but I was trained how to fake it. All US trained operatives who are sent into deep cover receive specialized training. We were taught how to manipulate others. According to my instructors, it isn’t hard to make a woman fall in love with you. I remember one of them describing the process as being the emotional equivalent of shoveling out a barn full of manure. Put the time in and the job gets done but it’s unpleasant and tedious.
When I was a lone wolf assassin, it wasn’t worth the bother. Now as a prophet, it was. Every leader needs people that he can absolutely trust to have his back. Sex creates bonds. It made sense for me to cultivate my relationship with my non-psychotic wives.
I was taught that if a man does three things, women will fall in love with him. The first is to be sexy. The easiest way for a man to be sexy is to be dangerous and/or powerful. It’s not hard for an assassin to get this done. Now I was the prophet; I had this locked.
The second is to be considerate. For obvious reasons, common courtesy helps all relationships. Romantic love requires an extra step. A woman melts when her man anticipates her needs. A gesture that isn’t asked for but is exactly what she wants is the way to her heart. The problem with this process is that you have to pay attention. You have to actually listen to a woman, and to study her carefully. It was bad enough trying to pay this kind of attention to one woman—five was agony.