Praying for War: The Collin War Chronicles

by W. C. Hoffman

  “Like that foolish, old woman?”

  Collin snapped up, moving away from the doorframe. “What did you say?”

  “Doris was not one of the saved.”

  “You’re not really a pastor are you?” Collin tried to change the subject; he didn’t want to beat the man to death. “Did you pick up that title during the fevered time?”

  “Wouldn’t it burn you up to know she didn’t have to die? But you left me no choice.”

  “What?” Collin stepped forward; his hands were already balled into fists. “If you have something to say, say it.”

  “Only the saved,” Pastor Pendell said, leaning back, spreading his arms and smiling at the ceiling. “Will be saved.”

  Pendell reached down suddenly and flung the plastic chair at Collin. He blocked the chair with his forearm. He connected with a hook on Pendell’s cheek before he threw an elbow into his chest, emptying his lungs. Pendell punched at Collin, but it was a slow swing. Collin caught his arm, moved his hips to the side, and threw Pendell over his back. He slammed into the wall with a dull thump and crumpled to the floor, again.

  “What did you say,” Collin said. He straddled the man and punched him again in the chest.

  Pendell groaned and winced.

  “What?”

  “She was worthless. She was expendable. I couldn’t waste anything on her,” Pendell said. He began to cackle. “She couldn’t be saved. I wouldn’t allow it,” he shouted.

  Collin punched him twice in the face. Hate burned in his chest like a furnace, but a voice in his head told him to stop. With all of his strength, Collin stopped and stood up. He wiped sweat off his face and spit on the ground next to Pendell.

  “That’s for Doris, you monster.” He pulled the keys out of his pocket and jingled them. “You think on your sins while I go take a look around.”

  Pendell saw the keys and scrambled on the floor. “No! Those are mine. Give them back, heathen.”

  He clawed at Collin, and got his hands kicked away in return.

  Collin backed out of the room and slammed the door shut. He locked it and lowered the bar.

  “Hey,” Pendell shouted. “Hey! The righteous will overpower the heathens.”

  “Whatever.” Collin shook his head and turned away. He looked back when he heard Pendell slam into the door. It held firm. There was no reason to think the pastor could escape by ramming his way out.

  “Remember, heathen,” Pendell said, pressing his face against the bars in the window. “Only the saved will be saved.”

  Collin slammed his palm against the door, causing the prisoner to erupt in a wild-eyed cackle.

  “You’re all doomed,” Pendell shouted in glee. “Only the saved will be saved.”

  Something about that phrase always rubbed Collin wrong. Now he wondered if it was in fact some kind of secret message. A tickle in the back of his mind made him think it had something to do with the selection process, and who was and wasn’t administered BT76 when supplies ran low. Doris had practically told him that the process was more of a popularity contest, than any sort of objective selection.

  Major Logan was HAGS. Did it have something to do with them? Collin shook his head. He hoped that with the keys, he could find some sort of evidence one way or another.

  Anna said Logan planned to overthrow Pendell. So maybe he wasn’t HAGS, but there was something fishy going on. The two men had seemed close and he was curious to find out why.

  He thought about the church and realized that there wasn’t much to inspect. The church had always been open and people came and went whenever they wanted to. Pastor Pendell’s office seemed like the first place to search but he’d been in there many times.

  Within the office were a pair of file cabinets and he’d seen the contents. They held church records and various copies of paperwork from before the fever. The desk had small drawers that Collin had never seen. However, Pendell never acted secretive about them.

  From where he stood in the hallway, he thought through each section. Upstairs was Pendell’s residence, then there was the office, and the main church area filled with pews, and then the basement. In the basement were two detention rooms, the hallway, a storage closet, and the room that had served as a medic unit following the blast at the Eagle’s Bar.

  He looked around. There were two doors at the end of the hall. Ones he never opened, or seen open, before.

  Collin walked down the hall to the doors. Neither door had a sign or markings of any kind. He tried the first door handle but it was locked and wouldn’t budge. The second door was just like the first.

  He bent down to look at the locks on the door. A manufacturer’s logo pressed into the metal above the keyhole, so he began to search through Pendell’s sizeable key ring for a matching key. Buried roughly halfway through the keys was one that looked promising.

  He glanced down the hallway, feeling almost like he was doing something naughty. Then took a breath and pushed the key into the keyhole.

  Only the tip made it in before it stopped. Collin walked to the door closest to the detention cells and tried it there.

  With a satisfying grind of metal on metal, the key sank in. He turned it and was rewarded with the click of the deadbolt sliding open. The door handle still didn’t turn. Collin looked at the key ring. He found the correct key to unlock the handle was right next to the one he just used.

  Finally, he pushed open the door. It was dark inside and the light from the hall wasn’t sufficient to light up anything other than the blank space where the door swung inward. He felt along the wall for a light switch. After a moment of sliding his hand along the wall, he found it. He clicked it on and was disappointed to find it only contained supplies. Shelves lined the walls inside. They held cleaning supplies, like bleach and rubber gloves, a few large stacks of bibles, some folded cloth, a box labeled “candles, white” and various other church stuff.

  He turned off the light and went back to the door at the end of the hall.

  Finding the key took another minute of flipping through the keys. Sliding it into the lock, he twisted it and the door unlocked. He repeated the steps with the door handle lock and opened the door. Same thing as before, he had to feel around for a light switch. He found it.

  When the lights came on, he saw boxes and boxes of BT76.

  Collin gasped and cursed. “That bastard,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

  He looked down the hallway but it was still clear, so he stepped inside. A quick count of the boxes that he could see suggested roughly four hundred doses of the medication.

  He leaned against the wall for support. He couldn’t believe it. All of those people, fifty something souls who died recently because of the supply issue that HAGS claimed in their note. Yet Pastor Pendell had hundreds of doses of medication the entire time.

  Collin’s heart thumped in his chest, faster and faster. Fury filled him from head to toe. He wanted to smash Pastor Pendell’s head into the wall of his cell until there was nothing left but mush. Instead, he pounded his fist against the wall as he thought of Doris needlessly dying and the others who were suffering and dying.

  Pastor Pendell was no man of God. He was no true pastor at all. He would face justice from a furious town, Collin knew that deep down to his core. He make sure of that.

  Collin turned off the light and closed the door. He locked both locks.

  He took a deep breath and stood there, staring at the door. Sickness burned the back of his throat. It was here the whole time. He leaned his head against the cool door and sucked in more deep breaths to calm down.

  After a few minutes of composing himself, he walked back to the cell and looked inside. Pendell was sitting on the floor, leaning his head back against the wall. He had a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

  “You sick sonofabitch,” Collin said, slamming his hand against the door. “Why?” he asked through clenched teeth. His jaw muscles flexed and his voice was low, yet menacing.

  Pendell’s
head slowly turned in Collin’s direction. His eyes popped open, followed by a wicked sneer.

  “You still don’t get it, do you?” he said in a venomous tone. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

  His voice was rose quickly as Pendell questioned his captor, booming off the walls, and echoing down the hall.

  “Only the saved,” he screamed at Collin, pumping his arms for emphasis. “Will be saved.”

  “You let people die. People that didn’t need to die,” Collin said evenly. “You can repeat that bullshit as much as you want, but there is nothing that will save you.”

  Collin turned and walked away, ignoring the furious rantings behind him. When he reached the large room that had once served as a hospital, he looked at the two Eagles and shook his head.

  “Guard the door and under no circumstance are you to release the prisoner to anyone,” Collin said. “I will hold onto the key, so you don’t fall prey to the silver tongued snake in that room. Stay here until you receive further orders.”

  “Yes, sir.” They spoke in unison and walked down the hall to take up station on either side of the door.

  He let out a huge sigh, releasing the tension that was building up, and threatening to explode. He carefully rolled his neck, stretching the muscles, while he refocused his attention. Collin should go check on Dr. Horner, check the guard rotation and make sure the snipers were fresh and alert.

  Not wanting to waste any more time, Collin strode up the stairs and exited into the night air. He realized just how musty smelling the basement was and was thankful he didn’t have to spend much time down there.

  Even from the front of the church, he could tell that work had already resumed on the wall. Hammers banged against wood, saws ground away at tree fibers and torches glowed in the dark of the early evening.

  Collin felt a sudden surge of pride in the men and women of Goshen. Their will to survive, their work ethic and resilience was incredible. He didn’t know if they were backing him or just afraid for their lives, but either way, they understood the wall was important and they were doing whatever it took to get it up right away.

  Collin shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at the ground while he thought through the problems the town would face in the coming days. Gravel crunched under his feet as he walked along the road toward the hospital.

  Light flicked across the path in front of him. He looked up and watched as the light approached him at a slow and easy pace. Collin didn’t carry a flashlight, he liked being enveloped in the darkness. His night vision was sufficient most nights for him to navigate the town without any problem.

  Collin stopped walking when it became obvious that the person walked toward him. The light swung lazily across the road in time with their gait. Before he could tell who it was, he heard Koby’s voice.

  “Collin, is that you?” he asked.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” Collin said. “I’m headed to the hospital to see Dr. Horner.”

  “No need,” Koby said.

  “I’m right here,” she said.

  He strode toward her and pulled her into a hug. Dr. Horner buried her face in his shoulder. Her hair tickled his chin but he didn’t move, he just held her.

  “I’m so sorry, Julie.” He stroked her hair. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her.”

  She shook her head against his shoulder, and then looked up at him. Their eyes met. Tears trickled down her face.

  “It’s not your fault,” Julie said. “I...I heard what you did.”

  It was his turn to shake his head.

  “I didn’t do anything. I had no idea the crazy bastard would try something so stupid.” Collin felt the anger rushing back, heat crawled up his neck. He fought it back. There would be a time to release it, but right now was not the time.

  He beat down the demon inside him but he couldn’t hide his own tears. One slid off his jaw and landed on Julie’s hand. She looked at him and held his face. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. After another embrace, she pulled away, wiping her face with her hands.

  Collin saw that Koby was also wiping away tears. He gave Koby a questioning look.

  Koby shook his head, no. He hadn’t told Julie about her daughter’s actions.

  No point in it now, he figured. Better to let her memory be a proud one, rather than belittled as foolish love and clouded by controversy.

  Julie finished wiping her nose with tissue. She balled it up and shoved it in her pants pocket. She tucked hair behind her ear and straightened up.

  “My daughter’s death will not be meaningless,” she said confidently. “She will not be just another one lost to this cruel new world. With her help, we developed the treatment to eradicate the fever.”

  “That’s fantastic, Julie.” Collin tried to smile.

  “I brought one with me for you to see.” Julie pulled out a syringe filled with bright red fluid.

  Collin held it carefully. Koby shined the flashlight on it so he could see. He wasn’t sure what he should do with it because he was already immune. It was impressive that she was able to create this given the limited supplies the town had.

  “How effective is it?” Collin asked. He was skeptical give the results of the previous version.

  “The new treatment protocol has a ninety-eight percent success rate. The remaining two percent will still require BT76,” Julie said. She added softly, “But the treatment will not be fatal.”

  No one else would suffer the fate of Doris. A fate that came at Pendell’s order. Collin just nodded. He felt a sense of relief though; poor Doris had suffered terribly in her last moments. A fact that would likely haunt him for the rest of his life.

  “Well, if only two percent will continue to need BT76 that won’t be a problem for a long time,” he said with a weak smile.

  Julie and Koby glanced at each other then back at Collin.

  He turned and motioned for them to follow. “Come on. There’s something I have to show you.”

  They followed Collin back to the church. He led them around to the side of the church to the basement door. Just as they started down the steps leading into the basement, someone near the front of the church yelled for him.

  “Collin, er, General War, sir!” yelled a young man. “General War.”

  Koby gave him a funny look.

  “Look at what you started,” Collin said to Koby.

  Koby held his hands up in defense. The grin on his face gave him away though.

  “You gotta admit, General War does have a nice ring to it,” Koby said.

  Collin shook his head in exasperation. “Wait downstairs for me. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” Dr. Horner said.

  “See ya soon, General.” Koby winked at him.

  Collin rolled his eyes and raced back up the steps.

  The Private who was yelling for him nearly bumped into him at the top of the staircase.

  “Oh, General, sir. We need you at the bridge,” PVT Gibbs said nervously. “Sir.”

  “Right. Okay, lead the way Private.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.” PVT Gibbs turned to run back toward the bridge. He glanced back to make sure Collin was following.

  “Double-time, Private.”

  As the came around the edge of the church, Collin could see what had stirred up the guards. Huge fires, like a bonfire celebration, burned in the fields. Their glow reached above the wall, casting jagged shadows across the road.

  “Wait,” Collin shouted. He ran back to the stairwell to the basement. “Koby, get up here.”

  He saw his friend peek his head up the staircase. “What?”

  “Get up here.”

  Koby ran up the stairs.

  “Go ring the bell, then meet me on the bridge,” Collin said.

  “Huh?”

  “Ring the fucking church bell,” Collin shouted. Without waiting for a response from Koby, he ran back to the front and met up with PVT Gibbs. “Let’s go.”

  Halfway to the bridge, the alarm bell beg
an to ring, alerting everyone in Goshen of a pending attack. A few moments later, they arrived at the bridge.

  Collin was breathing heavy; PVT Gibbs was fast.

  “Good pace, Gibbs.”

  “Thank you, sir. SGT Dale is over there,” he said pointing across the bridge.

  “Thanks. Carry on, Private.”

  “Yes, sir.” PVT Gibbs saluted, then spun on his heel and jogged away.

  Collin walked over to SGT Dale, watching as hundreds of torches blazed in the darkness. They moved back and forth in the forest at the edge of the farmland.

  “What’s the situation, Sergeant?”

  SGT Dale turned and saw that it was Collin. He started to snap to attention but Collin said, “At ease. What’s the situation?”

  “A few minutes ago these huge fires erupted in the fields and then the torches started to light up as well,” SGT Dale said, gesturing at the Vipers in the tree line. “It looks like they’re ready for that fight you mentioned, sir.”

  “Looks like it,” Collin said. He knew the wall was only at seventy-five percent completion, but the section of river that had yet to be walled up was rapid. An unlikely point of attack. They would likely go for the bridge.

  Torch after torch lit up. Hundreds of torches, held by hundreds of Vipers. The forest glowed orange from all of the torches casting light, almost as if it was consumed by a wildfire. He could make out the shadows of the Vipers holding torches and wondered how many it would take to overrun the bridge.

  Slowly the line of torches began to move forward into the fields.

  “Christ, they’re moving in,” Collin muttered to himself. He turned to SGT Dale. “Get everyone in position and put out the word for the residents to arm up and man the designated choke points.”

  “Roger that, sir.” SGT Dale jogged off to make it happen.

  Collin walked over the guard station on the town side of the bridge. “Weapon, please.”

  “Yes, sir.” The guard reached behind the fortified position and raised a rifle. He handed it over to Collin.

  Collin immediately did a function check on the rifle and then took up a position on the bridge. He knelt down, adjusted his location and then flattened himself out into a prone firing position.