"Looks like we just got lucky," Aidan shouted after rolling onto the edge of the property.
"Not so fast," Cheryl said, her voice drowned out by the purr of the engines around her. They had made a loud entrance, and she knew they were vulnerable in the open lot. Though, they had some measure of protection from the cover of darkness, bullets could start whizzing by their heads at any second.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Zach yelled. "An open ice cream shop?"
"We should be careful…" Diego warned.
Mark strained to be heard over the sound of the engines. "Yeah. Could be a O.N.E. trap. They could be trying to lure in stray travelers. Maybe you walk in, the door shuts behind you, and the whole place is filled with hungry Eaters. "But…" he said, leaning back towards Cheryl, so she could hear him, "…if there's anyone in there that is friendly, we probably look like an invading army. We shouldn't all have come at once."
Diego said, "If anyone is home…and they're friendly…it's doubtful they're going to have any supplies to spare. Maybe we should keep going down the highway."
With every fiber of her being, Cheryl hoped this was going to be a safe place to stay the night and would have amicable survivors. When they evacuated Fort Vulture, they hadn't had time to pack up much—not the tents, not the teepee coverings, not even very much food and water. In fact, they had little more with them now than they'd had after the helicopter crash.
After trying to shout to the others in vain over the loud motors, Aidan killed the engine on his bike. He sat there for a moment before hopping off and turning to face them.
Most of the other bikers powered down too.
Before Aidan spoke, Diego burst out laughing. "What are you gonna do, amigo? Just go and knock on the door?"
Aidan threw up his hands. "You got a better idea?"
One of the Vultures chimed in. "Yeah…I say we scout around the place and make sure it's not filled with Eaters then barrel in there."
"I got a good feeling about this place. I'm not going in blazing guns."
Diego threw up his hands. "Man…you're crazy, man! We're going to get shot if we stand around here and—"
They were all so busy arguing that none of them noticed a man walk out of the building. When he appeared next to them, his presence wasn't immediately noticed, because he looked just like one of them. He was a tall man with a long, gray beard that reached to his chest and he wore a black t-shirt and jeans. There was a gold hoop earring in his left ear, and a grin on his face that seemed smug when he saw that he'd surprised them. He appeared to be unarmed and he held one hand in the air, hailing them. "Welcome, brothers."
Everyone stared, speechless, as if a ghost had materialized in front of them.
"We haven't had company in quite a while. It's nice to see you folks."
Aidan had stiffened, but seemed to relax when he his eyes fell to the Harley-Davidson logo on the man's shirt. Mark, Jake, and several of the others had hands poised to draw their guns.
"What do we got here? A gang of mutes?" He belted out a hearty chuckle. "Do I look like the bogeyman or something?"
A Vulture scolded the stranger. "It's not too smart to sneak up on people in the dark. We could have shot you."
The stranger just grinned wider. "That would have been your loss. I always come out to greet visitors, and I come in peace."
"We do too…we're just passing through," Aidan said, finally finding his tongue. "We had a camp not too far from here. It was overrun by Eaters, and we had to leave because more were coming up the mountain."
The man stroked his beard. "Sorry to hear that. Did you lose anyone?"
"Yes. A few."
With closed eyes, the man bowed his head and mumbled some words. Then, he looked over the group. "Are any of you bitten or sick?"
"No. You have my word that we're not. We're tired, but we're all in good shape."
"You're a blessed lot then. We don't see many groups your size anymore…except groups of the walking dead."
"We could use a place to stay the night and any food you can spare," Aidan pleaded. "We'd be very grateful."
"Well then, I reckon you ought to park your bikes against the building and come on inside. I'll tell Hannah to put on another pot of coffee. Well…it's not coffee actually. We brew it from roasted dandelion roots. Tastes pleasantly bitter and gives your liver a good scrubbing. You'll acquire the taste after a few sips."
The group talked amongst themselves, arguing about whether they should trust the guy or go on down the road.
In the end, fatigue was the deciding factor. It was late, and they'd just had a harrowing evening that had sapped their fortitude. Most voted to stay, pleading for the chance to sleep somewhere indoors where they could kick off their boots and have the safety of walls around them.
"Fine," Edmond said after the vote. "But, I could use some ice cream…or a beer, not some weed coffee."
"Bite your tongue," Cheryl scolded in a hushed voice. "We're lucky to get anything they have to spare."
Jake hopped off the back of the bike he'd gotten a ride on and thanked the Vulture who'd been kind enough to share his steed. Then, he turned to Mark and whispered, "This guy's a little too friendly. I don't think we should all go in there."
"You're right. Some of us should stay out here and guard the bikes."
Jake, Mark, Diego, and six of the Vultures decided to stay, while the rest filed towards the door.
Mark grabbed Cheryl's arm before she headed towards the building. "Whatever happens in there, don't give up your gun."
"No worries," she said. "I won't let my guard down."
He patted her on the back. "Promise?"
"Promise," she replied.
Once all of the motorcycles were parked, those braving the offered hospitality followed the man towards the door. After opening it, the man held up his hand. "Hold on a second."
Cheryl froze along with everyone else. Was he going to change his mind? Signal someone inside to open fire?
"Where are my manners? We haven't even made introductions." He held out his right hand, exposing the tattoo of a gothic cross on his forearm, and offered it to Aidan first. "Name's Jeremiah Sadler."
"Aidan," he countered, giving him a firm shake.
Deanna bustled to the door next, and extended her hand. Jeremiah shook it and gave her a curt nod.
After they disappeared inside, Cheryl and the others followed. She kept a firm grip on her gun, and if their host had any concerns about their weapons, she noted that he didn’t seem to show it.
Once inside, any preconceived notions she had vanished. What she'd expected, as surely as the others, was an ice cream shop, a conditioned assumption given the sign out front. Instead of a counter and colorful booths, she looked upon an altar with rows of pews in front, enough to seat at least fifty. Candles and lanterns dotted the small stage area, lighting it like a starry patch of sky.
Divine Sundaes.
The building looked like it had once been a business that served sweet desserts, but it was apparently now dishing up spirituality. Instead of being comforted by that fact, it made her uneasy. She and Aidan had once encountered a religious group who were all sitting around, waiting to be raptured into Heaven, instead of doing anything proactive to fortify their shelter and increase their chances of survival. Were the people here of the same mindset?
She stood with the rest of her group as they huddled in the rear, looking unsure of whether they should sit or stand. While they murmured amongst themselves, wondering if they'd done the right thing by coming inside, a woman appeared. She had white shoulder-length hair and wore a white t-shirt and jeans. A delicate gold cross hung from her neck. She was fragile looking, the type that would seem unlikely to have survived this apocalypse.
"Welcome, guests."
The group mumbled 'hellos', eyeing the tray she held with a couple dozen paper cups, filled with dark brown liquid.
"My name is Hannah. It's so nice to have visitors. Where ya'll from?
"
Edmond leaned towards Cheryl. "Have we all died and landed in some sort of alternate universe? Do these people not know what's going on in the world?"
"Just be cool," she whispered back.
Aidan stepped forward. "Some of us were refugees from Fort San Manuel and the rest of us were living in the Galiuro Mountains until our camp became unsafe."
Hannah started passing the cups around then said, "You poor dears. I can't imagine being out there in the wilderness when the gates of Hell are open. Why don't y'all have a seat." She gestured towards the pews. "Go on…" she said when no one moved. "Don't be shy. Kick your feet up and drink up. I'm sure you could use some refreshment and some time to relax."
Most of them obeyed, sitting down and starting to sip the bitter brew sweetened with honey, but some of them, including Cheryl, continued to stand and studied their cups wondering what exactly was being served. Since they had just met this couple and didn't know if they could be trusted, poison couldn't be ruled out.
"So…uh…do you uhh…" Aidan stuttered like he was embarrassed to ask "…actually have any ice cream or food around here?"
Jeremiah appeared by Hannah's side. "Oh we've got food, brother—the kind of food that comes from the Lord. That's the only reason we're still here. God shields us from destruction, so we can serve as an oasis to weary travelers and give them a little of the Holy Spirit to light the rest of their way."
Two of the Vultures in the back of the pews said, "Amen".
"Maybe, while you're recovering from the road, I can read you some verses that might help—"
Edmond burst out laughing. "You've got to be—"
Aidan raised a hand, shushing him. "I'm sorry. We really appreciate your offering, but what we really need right now is just a place to crash for a few hours. Then, we'll be on our way come daylight. If you're offering some divine solace, we've got two guys here who just lost someone. Ben lost his girlfriend, Jasmine, and Chip lost his best friend, Patrick. They're kind of a mess right now. Do you think you could talk to them?"
Jeremiah clamped a hand down on Aidan's shoulder. "I'd be happy to."
With some reluctance, Ben and Chip allowed Jeremiah to lead them to another room, while Hannah left to get some more brew for refills.
"What now?" Cheryl asked.
"I don't… know," Aidan said, gritting each word through his teeth. "This wasn't exactly how we'd planned things. There wasn't time to pack up the camp, find another place…"
"Maybe we can stay here for a few days," Kai said. "You know…regroup and get some supplies."
They sat and talked, debating whether the charity of their hosts was sincere and if it was smart to let their guard down and stay the night.
Mark's voice interrupted the train of thought in Cheryl's head. "Okay?"
Okay, she thought back to him. We're doing fine.
She re-entered the conversation just as the paranoia escalated.
Zach led the fear mongers. "They're too nice. They gotta have something up their sleeves."
"You've seen too many bad movies…" Kai told him.
"Real life is a bad movie now," Edmond chimed in.
"Well…I think they're genuine," Cheryl said. "That's my gut feeling."
Zach leaned back, crossing his arms. "Or well trained. How could they survive out here for so long on their own? They've got to have some scheme to defend themselves and maintain supplies. Maybe they're planning to take our guns and slit our throats while we sleep."
"I think you're wrong," Cheryl argued. "My intuition tells me that these are good people."
"I'll take this…" Zach said, raising his gun, "…over your female intuition any day."
Cheryl sighed. "Look…I didn't say we should give up our weapons. Let's just try to have a little faith that there's some goodness left in humanity."
Zach continued to grumble and some of the others joined him in more nervous conjecture about whether they were falling for some sort of trap. They all went silent when Hannah came back, this time with more dandelion coffee and biscuits made out of some unidentifiable grain.
Aidan leaned over towards Cheryl and Zach. "If you feel comfortable enough in here for now, I'm going to go back outside and talk with the guys."
They gave him a nod, and he left.
Jeremiah came back with Ben and Chip in tow. There were tears in their eyes, but also a look of renewed resilience. Cheryl felt a sense of relief. After Jasmine and Patrick's heartbreaking deaths, she wasn't sure if those two were going to make it. As they'd been riding away from the mountains, she had felt their pain wash over her like a black mist, imagined it streaming between the motorcycles like a poisonous fog as it leaked out of their bodies. She'd had many of her own periods of bleakness and utter despair and knew that it took a lot of fortitude to recover and not give up.
"These are good men," he said. "It'll take some time, but I think their hearts will heal."
After they sat down, Cheryl asked, "Is it just you two here? Or, are there more of you?"
"Just me and Hannah here. We lost most of our congregation when the plague began, but there are still a few isolated families that come in on Sundays for worship and to barter for our produce."
"Produce?"
"We've got a garden out back. Well…" he laughed. "Actually, that's what Hannah calls it. It's over an acre, though. A small farm."
As Cheryl laughed with him, he leaned forward in his seat and clasped his hands together. The smile disappeared from his face. "I must let you know….we can let you stay the night here, but then you'd best be moving on, because a few weeks ago, our congregation decided that our community was closed. I guess we could shop around the families but since we had trouble with the last group that wanted to stay—"
"That's okay. We'll leave in the morning."
Jeremiah sat back up, looking relieved. "Where are you folks headed?"
"North."
Jeremiah shook his head. "I wouldn't go up that way if I were you. That's all O.N.E. now—the devil's territory."
Zach snickered. "El diablo esta en todas partes."
"Yes," Jeremiah said. His eyebrows knitted closer together, and he hovered over Zach like a papa bear about to school his child in the wicked ways of this new world. "But, you don't know what kind of trouble I'm talking about. You head that way and you'll either end up dead or one of the damned."
"Being stupid isn't what got me this far," Zach snarled.
Cheryl shot a warning glance at him. They were guests of these people who, so far, seemed to be kind and altruistic.
"I'm sure that's true," Jeremiah told him. "And yet…I don't think you have any idea what this O.N.E. group is up to. They're not some small outfit running around playing war games. They're dead serious about their business."
"And what business is that?"
"Creating hell on earth."
"I think we're already there," Cheryl said.
"I wish that was true. Unfortunately, population decimation and chaos was just their first step."
"How do you know so much, amigo?" Zach challenged.
"I used to be one of them." Jeremiah held out the palm of his left hand, revealing the familiar triangle symbol with the number one inside.
"Used to?" Cheryl asked as the hair prickled up on the back of her neck and she suddenly felt a little less comfortable about the hospitality they'd been so quickly offered.
"Don't worry, dear. I don't truck with them anymore. When I finally realized the evil they were up to, I bailed. Couldn't stomach it. I turned my life over to the other side and never looked back."
Zach's curiosity seemed to overcome his sarcasm. "What did you do with O.N.E.?"
"I worked at XCGen, the lab that created the virus."
Mark appeared in the doorway like his ears had tuned in from outside. "You were part of the lab?" He began to babble. "How did…how did you—"
Jeremiah held up his hand. "I didn’t say I know everything. I was a janitor there, not one of the
ir mad scientists. When I got wind of some of their experiments on animals and saw one of their human guinea pigs, it scared the guacamole out of me and I took off without bothering to give them notice."
Cheryl studied the deep lines on Jeremiah's face. There seemed to be genuine fear etched into them. "If it's true that they're as dangerous as you said then you're lucky they haven't hunted you down and killed you."
Jeremiah raised a fist, displaying the cross tattoo on his right arm in an upright position. "If I hadn't joined God's team and had His protection, I'd probably be strapped to a gurney right now while they experimented to see how slowly they could kill me by letting one of the infected eat me one piece of flesh at a time."
"Back at the fort, I did some research about them. I know XCGen was based in Kentucky," Mark said. "How did you get all the way out here?"
"They had more than one lab. There were nearly a dozen across the country. I worked at the one in Las Cruces. When I left the lab there, I came to live with my sister in Tucson for a while."
"Las Cruces? That's near the border…" Mark said.
"Yeah. There were always trucks coming and going from Juarez. I don't have to tell you that they weren't just trafficking guns and drugs for the cartels."
Cheryl stood up and walked away as he started to tell Mark and Zach about the dogs, pigs…and humans that got a one way ticket to the lab. She couldn't stomach the details about how these evil people purposely infected creatures to begin with—all under the false name of cancer research. It was inconceivable how anyone could be so cruel, inflicting such misery on animals…and people.
She joined Hannah in the kitchen area where she was dishing up some small cakes.
"Jeremiah's telling the guys about working for XCGen."
"Ohhh…I don't like to hear about that stuff. Makes me sick. Wish he'd stop talking about it."
"Just the thought that someone started this apocalypse on purpose makes me ill."
Hannah held out the platter. "Why don't you take these to the guys and have a couple yourself. I made them with cornmeal, honey, and some ground pinyon nuts. Dried them in the sun for a few days instead of wasting generator fuel on the oven. You might find a gnat or two in them. You can pick them out or enjoy the extra protein."
Eaters (Book 2): The Resistance Page 17