Righteous Apostate: Raptor Apocalypse Book 3

by Steve R. Yeager

  Then she noticed something else. Something not caused by whatever had been eating Charlie. Two red-ringed holes about half an inch apart dotted his forehead, just below his hairline. It took a second to register, but she was certain they were bullet holes.

  A fresh wave of terror slithered up and down her spine like an eel.

  He’d been… He’d been shot? Why? Why had he been shot?

  Falling back on her knees again, she glanced at the glass-fronted cage closest to her. Six of her animals were pacing back and forth inside, watching her intently. One shrieked and lunged at her. It hit the glass. Snarling, clawing, it pressed a fleshy maw against the barrier, exposing twin rows of razor-sharp teeth. The thick glass muffled the other’s cries, making their vocalizations not much louder than a whisper. She’d seen them act this way before, but then she’d been in complete control, standing behind a clipboard, watching them with the eye of an academic. Now she no longer had the security of her detachment. She was alone, on her knees, and vulnerable.

  Every instinct told her to get up and run. She tried to stand again. Her legs would not work, and she wobbled like a toddler learning to walk.

  Hearing another sharp noise, she pivoted toward it. The cage three slots away from her was cloaked in semi-darkness. The sides were still intact. There were no cracks, but milky-white streaks clouded the glass. As she examined the cage further, she saw zero signs of movement inside.

  Empty? It can’t be empty. They are never empty.

  Quivering, mind reeling, she shifted her gaze back to the cage closest to her. The creatures inside grew agitated, shrieking when she made eye contact. One by one, they opened their mouths as if readying to cry out. Instead, they tasted the air with their tongues. Then, one by one, they clamped their jaws shut, cutting themselves off, and exerting some new measure of self-control. She had never seen them behave this way before. The scientist in her wondered what it meant.

  As a group, they cocked their heads to the left.

  She mimicked them by cocking hers to the right.

  They opened their mouths.

  She opened hers.

  They closed theirs.

  She closed hers.

  They tilted their necks as if puzzled by her strange actions.

  She tilted her neck to match them.

  Then from behind her came an earsplitting cry.

  -2-

  GOD'S WILL

  NOAH SHOVED JENNY. When she didn’t respond, he shoved her again, harder.

  “Huh? What?” she mumbled.

  “Get up.”

  “No, come on. Let me sleep.” She rolled over and pulled the sheets along with her.

  He prodded her again, this time kicking her with his heel, sending her flying off the bed. She landed with a dull thump on the hardwood floor, rattling dishes on a nearby chest of drawers.

  “You were snoring,” he said, staring down at her on the floor. “Now go make breakfast.”

  Naked, blinking sleep from her eyes, she peered up like a scared rabbit. He fluffed his pillow, folded it, and set it behind his head. Rolled onto his back and laced his fingers together across his chest.

  “Go,” he repeated.

  “No,” she said. But as she said it, she scrambled away, shaking her head.

  He lifted himself to sitting and rubbed his face. Jenny hurriedly stumbled into her clothes, dressing in jeans and a button-up shirt.

  Staring coldly at her, he drew back the sheets, fully exposing the girl lying on the bed next to him. He snaked his arm around the girl and grabbed one of her tiny breasts, and squeezed. She was relatively new to his flock, like Jenny. Lily was her name, and she was Jenny’s younger sister. He nuzzled closer and ran his hand down her belly and between her legs to wake her up properly. She wriggled into his arms with a forced smile that didn’t fool him for a second. Not that he cared either. She didn’t need to love him. She only needed to obey him.

  He then traced his fingers over the bumps made by her ribs, stopping at her hips to massage them. She was such a beauty. So much to offer. God’s grace and bounty. He glanced at Jenny. She was still standing by the chest of drawers. Her courage had returned, and she was glaring at them both.

  Stabbing his finger at the door, he whispered, “Go. Now.”

  She crossed her arms and waited. Raising his hand and opening his palm, he made ready to strike Lily. Jenny backed away, but she had moved too slowly, acted a little too reluctantly. She was starting to slip, and he made a mental note to do something about it. Sooner, rather than later. While the occasional whiff of disobedience could be tolerated, Jenny’s little show of jealousy and outright refusal had gone past the line. But that would have to wait until later, he thought as he watched her leave, closing the door behind her.

  Lifting his arms, he clenched and unclenched his fingers, watching the cords of his tendons as they alternately stretched and relaxed. On the knuckles of his right hand, he bore a tattoo given to him years ago. Now those same letters were fading. In a month or less, they would be completely gone.

  The tattoo reminded him of Eve, and her mission. She was the key. He'd been thinking about her off and on for days, expecting her to return soon. It had also been far too long since he’d had her in his bed, a task she was quite good at. Was she still alive? If so, where was she? He continued to think of her while positioning Lily on top of his chest and pushing her down toward his stomach. There was fear in the young girl’s eyes. It was the good kind of fear, the kind that kept her obedient. He smiled and whispered what he wanted her to do, and she did not displease him.

  After finishing with her, he got up and toweled himself off, dressing in khakis, a white cotton undershirt, and a maroon, heavyweight dress shirt. Stopping to wash his face with perfumed water from a bowl on the dresser, he dried himself with a freshly laundered towel. Checked himself in a small mirror mounted on the wall, stooped and ran a comb through his hair, slicking it back in the usual way. Then he gazed at himself in the mirror once again. He didn’t see anything different. Nothing was out of place. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all. So he smiled at his image and rubbed his fingertips together. Oily residue from the comb slicked his skin.

  Turning back to the bed, he saw Lily had pulled the sheets up and had bunched them between her legs, leaving a long expanse of her milky-white skin exposed. She was so young, fresh, and dotted with tiny imperfections. It made him return his gaze to the mirror, wishing he was twenty years younger, maybe thirty. Baring his teeth, he began his morning ritual of cleaning them one by one with a toothpick, then a toothbrush. By the time he finished, Lily was already fast asleep, but he could tell she was only pretending.

  He cleared his throat.

  “Anything else?” she asked, instantly responsive and slightly fearful.

  He smiled at her before leaving. Then he walked slowly through the house to the kitchen at the back, whistling along the way. He found Jenny working over a cast iron stove set in the corner by the rear door. To her right was a sink mounted in a countertop, above it, a window that let in the blue shaded hues of predawn. Two oil lamps hung from hooks above the stove. Another sat on the kitchen table, spilling orange light across the red-checkered tablecloth.

  Jenny was hovering over a frying pan, cooking thin strips of raptor meat. The flesh sizzled and popped, throwing off tiny sparkles of grease. On the tabletop, she’d already set a large bowl filled with mushrooms and cold mashed potatoes mixed with herbs. Grabbing a plate from the cupboard, he added some potatoes and mushrooms to it. Took down two more plates and filled them with smaller portions.

  Jenny would not look at him while he worked. Back turned, she asked coldly, “So, it’s her now? My little sister? You prefer her over me?”

  He glared at the back of her neck, waiting for her to say something else, something that would justify striking her, or maybe holding her wrist over the stove and watching the skin turn black. She must have felt it too because she turned, immediately casting her eyes downward in submi
ssion, knowing she had again stepped over the line. Without a word, he went to her and set the plates on the counter by the sink, and she selected pieces of the cooked meat with chrome tongs and placed them on each plate, mindful only of her task.

  “Don’t ever question me again,” he said. “Not in front of her. Not in front of anyone.”

  She opened her mouth to say something then closed it.

  Grabbing all three plates like a waiter, he pointed at the back door with his chin. Jenny wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to open the door. Pausing for just a moment, he regarded her. Then he nodded, knowing just the right punishment, one that would teach her the proper lesson.

  “Sorry,” she said timidly, avoiding eye contact.

  He stepped out to greet the morning. In the chilly predawn, his breath clouded the air. He bent his neck to each side, stretching it, before acknowledging Ryan and Matt, who were sitting on the twin steps leading up to the wraparound porch. Both men wore faded denim jackets with sheepskin linings. Matt had on a faded blue and orange Denver Bronco’s baseball hat. Ryan wore a knitted cap pulled low over his ears.

  “Morning,” Matt said as he stood. Ryan nodded, also rising to his feet.

  They both took the offered plates and sat on the top step while Noah hooked his foot around the leg of a rocking chair and dragged it closer to the threshold. He slumped into the worn seat, steadying the steaming plate in his lap. The old boards of the raised porch creaked under his weight. Around him, the compound began to wake. People stirred and emerged from weather-worn tents, making the short walk to the latrines at the rear, all showing respect as they walked past. In the air was the ashen smell of the morning communal fire. Soon, most of his flock would gather around the flames and begin discussing their plans for the day. He would casually stroll over to join them and assign duties. They would smile back at him while nodding approvals, just as they had done every day for the past two years. Then they would look at him expectantly, hopeful they would not be the ones he sent outside the protection of the walls.

  The past few nights had been icy cold, which made the mornings brisk and invigorating. With a sniff, he cleared his nose before taking a bite of his breakfast. As he chewed, he began to plan. It would either come together beautifully in the next few weeks, or everything would come to an end.

  “Any word?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” Matt answered between bites. “We’ve been watching the road closely. Highway too. Ron and Dex are still out searching but haven’t checked in for days. Not sure what to make of it. Think we should send someone else?”

  Noah considered this. “Maybe,” he finally said.

  “It’s been a long time since Eve left,” Matt said. “Could be she ain’t coming back. Or maybe he offed her. Or they just hooked up and ran away. Like in a storybook.”

  “No, I think not,” Noah said. “We must have faith in our dear Eve. She won’t fail us in this.”

  No one said a word for several seconds.

  “You sure?” Ryan asked. “She’s not all that bright. And so what if they don’t return? Losing Adam wouldn't be a loss.” He snorted a small laugh.

  Noah did not find the derisive comment amusing. He took another bite, chewed slowly, thinking. Then he said, “Our dear Eve's intelligence or lack thereof was never a factor. She was chosen for this, so there was a reason. One I don’t yet understand. But the answer is out there, somewhere. Who truly knows the mind of God? But, I believe you are correct, and we may need to send others. Into Denver if we have to. Make sure she returns to us, peacefully.” He let the obvious question of who would go after her hang in the air between them.

  Ryan returned to his food. Matt glanced away.

  “I thought not,” Noah said. He scooped another bite of potatoes from his plate. They were warm, silky, and seasoned well. For as much of a nuisance as she was, Jenny was a fine cook. But, she still needed to be reminded of her position and status. Let the woman learn in silence with all subjugation. It was God’s will, after all.

  “What about Adam?” Ryan asked. “You think he gets along with that Cory guy?”

  Matt chuckled, saying nothing. Noah sat in contemplation for a moment. “Yes,” he said, “our sweet Evelyn should have returned to us by now. But she has not.” He drew a breath. “I’m afraid the time is drawing nearer. It is God’s plan for her to do this for us. And the Lord does nothing without revealing his secrets unto us, strange as they may be.”

  “Of course,” Ryan said, nodding.

  “That means—” Noah cut himself off. He scraped his fork across his plate to scoop up another bite of mashed potatoes. They were especially delicious this morning. Had she seasoned them with thyme? Maybe that was it. Time. Time was what was required. And to shorten that time, maybe he would have to act decisively. Maybe he had misheard God. Maybe God wanted him to get involved and be a little more active in fulfilling His will.

  While scratching himself on the chin, he said, “Here is what we will do.” He waited until Matt and Ryan stopped eating. “Both of you will go south to search for word on their whereabouts. It shouldn’t prove too difficult. Eve will leave an easy trail to follow. And Adam will keep her safe. I’m sure by now they have bonded with the man with the sword, and she has done what she was tasked to do. God has told me of this, and I fully expect her to return to us soon.”

  Matt asked, “You really think so? You think they survived? Adam's a homo and she’s a whiny bitch. Not a great combination.”

  Noah ignored the response, but it did trouble him. He allowed Matt and Ryan far more leeway than anyone else due to their unquestioning loyalty. He didn't care much for Adam either way, but did enjoy the man's sense of drama.

  “Homo,” Matt repeated, shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth.

  “We should consider sending someone else,” Ryan said. “We’ve got Terry, Patrick, Josh. Maybe Mark and Kyle? Or Ronnie and Dex when they get back.”

  “No, I won’t take that chance,” Noah said. “This is far too important. God has let me know who will find her.” He chewed slowly. “The two of you will go. And you will bring our Eve back home to us. Safely. Adam too.” He leaned toward Matt and Ryan, pointing at them with his fork. “And you must make certain the man with the sword does not die during the journey. He must be returned here alive. Am I clear?”

  Ryan and Matt nervously exchanged glances.

  “It is settled then,” Noah said. “Collect what you need and go. Today. And know this, God has permitted me to reward you for the success I’m certain you will bring in this important…undertaking.”

  “What is it?” Ryan asked. “What’s worth risking our asses for?” He swiveled to stare over his shoulder at Noah.

  “That will be answered soon enough. God has told me only part of what I can do. But I assure you, it will not be displeasing. Our dear Jenny may just play an important role.” He twirled his fork in a circle in front of him and smiled.

  Matt and Ryan remained silent but seemed to have understood.

  The door to the kitchen swung open. Jenny stepped on the porch and nodded at a metal triangle hanging on a chain from the eaves. “Breakfast is ready for the children,” she told them. She let the door snap closed behind her as she went back inside.

  Ryan turned to Matt, who was getting up to ring the triangle. “What if we find a couple of volunteers to go?” he asked. “Besides us, I mean. I know you said us, but…”

  “No, that will not do,” Noah said patiently, as if he were lecturing a child. “The matter is settled.” He filled his fork with another bite from his breakfast. He again finished chewing before speaking. “There is something about our dear, sweet Evelyn I do miss. I took a very large risk letting them do this instead of you two, but, ultimately, it was not up to me.” He glanced skyward. “I should have sent you two in the first place.”

  “It was a good plan,” Ryan agreed. “Not sending us. Sending them, I mean. A good plan,” he repeated, bobbing his head up and down
. Then he hesitated for a moment. “You absolutely sure we should go? Even if you are sure they will be back soon?”

  Noah did not answer. He set his plate on his lap, pushed the rocking chair up, and scooted it forward. He leaned toward Matt and said, “God willing, yes, they will return. And you will be there to greet them when they do. Or you will find them for us if they have somehow become lost.”

  Matt tapped his fork against his plate and asked, “And will it still work when we get our hands on it? After all these years?”

  Noah didn’t need to think about it for long. He already knew. He remembered what he had heard five years earlier as if it were yesterday. He repeated the phrase, pronouncing it with his preacher’s voice, dropping into a baritone, and saying, “Through the blood of the righteous the world shall again be set anew.” It was a simple statement, and yet meant so much.

  Matt cocked his head at the words and set his plate down. He stood. Ryan stabbed his fork at his own plate and shoveled another bite into his mouth. Bits of mashed potatoes clung to the long hairs of his mustache as he ate. Matt stepped onto the porch and picked up a metal bar next to the triangle, readying to strike it.

  “Not yet,” Noah said. He wanted to finish his breakfast before the children came running. He needed a moment of peace and quiet. Exhaling, he kicked with his heel and started his chair rocking again.

  Matt shrugged and sat back down next to his empty plate.

  As Noah rocked, the dawn broke, sending shafts of light through the tips of the sharpened posts surrounding the compound. He squinted in a sunbeam, raising his hand, twisting his wrist back and forth, looking at the tattoos on his knuckles, and observing how they absorbed the sunlight. The marks had once been a deep black. Now they were fading each day and soon would disappear altogether. He’d been told that when the proteins broke down completely, and his body flushed them away, the means to eliminate the raptors would disappear forever.

  -3-

  ZERO OUT

  JESSE TOUCHED HIS busted lip and winced. With a sudden, chilling clarity, he realized his sins were catching up with him, filling his head with dark swirling thoughts. Sitting in a fancy chair once owned by the man he had shot and killed not two hours earlier, he could hardly believe what had taken place over the past day. How he and Cory had survived the arena. How he had tried to escape, only to be dragged back and beaten. How he had killed the man responsible. How a single bullet had caused such havoc. How it had torn through the man’s head, mushrooming it out, sending bits and pieces spinning wildly, splattering against the wall. He saw this afterimage of horror every time he closed his eyes. While what he had done had been the right thing to do, he was not about to pat himself on the back over it.