Steele tried to raise his carbine level with the fiend but was unable to get a shot. He instinctually grabbed the infected with his support hand. The infected growled, taking them off the path, its undead strength forcing their feet to backpedal.
Firing his gun point blank, Steele grunted as the gun recoiled hard into the notch of his elbow. Bullets penetrated the thing’s leg over and over. Steele pulled the infected hard, forcing the creature to shift its weight to its disintegrated leg. Steele used the torn GVSU t-shirt to topple the creature down onto the ground.
Steele landed on its chest. The creature’s mouth opened wide for him, its arms wrapping in a bear hug around him and Tess. The infected’s jaws snapped shut and opened further than tendons would allow a normal human’s to unhinge and crushed closed again, spittle flying.
The back of Steele’s mind screamed. You don’t have time. They’re coming. They’re coming. Gritting his teeth, he strained away from its gaping mouth. A gunshot concussed him, and for a moment, he thought he misfired his carbine. The top of the infected’s patchy haired skull turned into a volcano of gooey reddish gray matter, quelling its struggle. Tess held her 1911 in, pointing it at them. Steele scrambled upright.
Lining up his sights on the nearest infected, Steele fired and transitioned too quick. He rushed because the dead were almost upon them. Tess shot next to him, her arms extended, elbows almost locked, but open enough to absorb recoil.
“Run!” Steele yelled at her. He pushed her in the direction the infected were not. They sprinted through the forest. Branches scratched their faces. Twigs cut at their arms. Rocks tripped their feet, but they ran. After minutes, he slowed and stopped. Resting on a white pine tree, his gun pointed behind them, he watched and waited for the disorderly pursuit of their enemies. He could hear them. Their movement was easy to identify.
“You okay?” Steele breathed, watching his gun bounce in time to his pounding heartbeat.
“Yeah. I think your five minutes are up,” she joked.
He wheezed a few laughs. “Hope you are up for round two. Here they come again.”
They weaved through the trees, not with the intention of avoiding detection, but with only the intention of pursuing their prey. His shooting in response was delayed because he spent much more time waiting to get a clear shot than he would have liked. As they grew closer, he stood, not seeing the point of hiding. Tess joined him then, sending rounds into them with efficiency. In minutes, it was over, a smoky cloud hanging in the air.
He released his mag from the mag well and shoved it in his pocket. He replaced the almost empty mag well with a full one. Then he went about reloading his expended magazines. Tess checked her weapon status and joined him, loading bullets into her empty magazines.
“You were made for this,” Tess said.
He kept his eyes up while he reloaded. “I was not. I was made for summertime at the beach and a nice glass of rye whiskey on the rocks.”
“Deny it all you want, but you were made for it.” She shook her head at his apparent stupidity as she loaded her mags.
Steele slipped a loaded 30-round mag into his vest pouch. “I don’t want this,” he said. He snapped up an empty mag to reload with freshly brassed bullets. “Who would want this disgusting, perverted shithole of a world?”
“Do we ever have a choice of what our world looks like?” she asked.
“We make the world what it is.”
“Did you make the world like this?”
“Of course not.”
“But the world is like this. Almost everyone is dead. But everyone doesn’t need to die. You could make this place better. Safer. Habitable.”
“I don’t see where I fit into this. I keep me and my people in one piece. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Except for all those that have fallen in this futile struggle.
Tess stopped him by grabbing his sleeve. “Don’t bullshit me. The average person can’t make this better. Even a man like Pagan can’t by himself. Thunder can’t. I can’t.”
“Not my problem,” he said.
“Listen, Steele, I can make do. I can hold out, fight, fuck, and barter, but if Pagan is gone…” She stopped and her eyes drifted out into the forest.
He watched her in silence.
“Pagan and I are a team. If he’s gone, I don’t think I can do it without him.”
“We’ll find him,” Steele uttered.
“Stop.” She held up a hand. “You know what world we live in. This search is a courtesy I know he would do for me if I went missing. I have to recognize that he is probably dead like the men that rode with him.”
“The chances are high.”
She grimaced at his brutally honest words. “I know. Without him, I can survive, but I don’t think I can lead Little Sable by myself. Then you arrived. I see you for what you are, and that’s somebody that can do this.”
“What are you trying to say?” he asked. He felt a headache coming on. One worse than any migraine he’d ever experienced.
“I want you to help me lead Little Sable Point. I want us to be a team. At least until we find Pagan. I will default to you on all security matters.”
He released himself from her hand. “I don’t want to be your co-leader or whatever it is you want. How would I lead people I don’t even know? Why would they follow me?” And there is no way for me to legitimize my leadership.
Her eyes pleaded. “Little Sable has some good folk. Men, women, and children. They’re scared. They need someone that they can rely on. If we can get Pagan back then you’re off the hook. The Red Stripes will help you run security.”
“Why don’t you ask Thunder? The Red Stripes follow him.”
“He doesn’t want it. He made that clear in the beginning. He’s got his club and he’s got a soft spot for Sable, but he doesn’t want to lead it.”
“And neither do I.” Steele moved his carbine low, pointing it toward the ground, and walked ahead. He moved faster than he had before, his boots crunching leaves, creating space between them as if he could outrun her comments.
“Steele, wait.” He stopped, more annoyed with her than anything else. “Maybe we could make another arrangement. An open one of course,” she smiled coyly and reached out a hand to stroke his cheek.
Steele dodged her, shifting his head out of the way. “I didn’t turn you down so we could fuck.” He twisted his mouth and scanned the trees.
Tess rolled her eyes as if she didn’t believe him. “We’re lucky Little Sable Point has gotten as far as it has. I need a man like you by my side. I’m not going anywhere; they trust me and I’m saying that I trust you.” She jumped, readjusting her backpack straps. He tried not to notice the perkiness of her breasts. “A good leader knows allies when they appear.”
“You don’t get it.” He jabbed a finger in her direction. “I’ve lost enough people. I’m the only one left from my counterterrorism team. I’ve lost friends. I’ve lost fellow survivors. Now, I’ve lost my mother. I only have one real thing left and that’s Gwen. I…” He stopped, realizing he was yelling and stared at her. “You don’t understand.”
She nodded knowingly. “That’s why you have to do it. You have to do it for her. Little Sable is a good place. She’ll thrive there.”
His mind wrestled with her words. Take leadership of a group of people I know nothing about for Gwen? I would do it in a heartbeat if there was any truth to it, but is there any truth to it? I will ultimately be responsible for all their lives. He clamped his mouth shut instead of responding.
“I see an opportunity here in you. You need us and we need you. Without each other, we won’t make it,” she said.
Everything seemed so far away except for the ghosts. They lingered behind the trees. They watched him from the shadows. Their dead eyes blamed him for not saving them. They followed him wherever he went. A ragtag band of his fallen people. The people of Little Sable Point will all haunt you when they are gone. Just like Jarl. And Wheeler. And Lindsay. And Andrea. And Barnes.
And Nelson. And Mauser. The last name made him cringe. His best friend. Gone rogue. Their friendship dead. If we meet again, I’ll have to kill him.
Tess watched him expectantly as if she already knew the right answer. A look that only women can give men.
He ran a hand over the crest of his healing head wound, a reminder of what this world had to offer. The list is already so long. Can I add more to it and not break? “I don’t know if I can handle adding any more people to my list.” He breathed hard, frowning at this woman. This hearty twig of a woman. Her eyes glowed at him. Wiping her short pointy nose, she smiled a bit.
“This is why you have to do it, because you care.”
Can I do this?
Tess reached out for him and he didn’t flinch. She tugged his beard a bit. “We need you,” she whispered.
He shook his head at her. All the voices in his head screamed for him to run away. His gut told him it was the wrong thing to do. Logic told him he would only suffer for this decision, but something else hid deep down inside him. He drew strength from it like an eternal well within his soul.
“I’m sure I’m going to regret this, but I’ll help until we find Pagan.”
“Deal. Until we find Pagan.”
“When we find him, I will step down as whatever it is I am.”
“I will let you go then,” she said. Her smile said that he was hers forever.
“I’m going to need your help to make it more organized and structured. Keep people safe. I’ll need volunteers to put together some kind of defense force. The Red Stripes are invaluable, but we have to be able to do it on our own.”
“I think I can round up some volunteers. But no draft or any kind of martial law. You saw what that got us during the outbreak. A lot of dead people. We’re small enough that we respect people’s liberties.” Her dark eyes stated that she wasn’t one to not be trifled with.
“What do you mean?”
“Little Sable thrives because we allow freedom of movement into and out of the camp, respect of personal property, and equal treatment of men, women, and children.”
“I’ll do my best, but we must set a foundation or we will never be more than a rabble easily destroyed by the infected.”
She stuck out her hand close to him. “I hereby appoint you an official representative of Little Sable Point.” He shook her hand, locked in by his word and sealed by his handshake.
“What? No secret handshake?” he asked.
“Nope. What you see is what you get.” They released hands.
“Come on, partner,” he said. He walked ahead of her, wondering if he was being chased or followed.
THE PASTOR
Northern Michigan
The fires from the furnace cast an orange glow upon his followers as if they were burning in hell. They sat complacent in a haphazard set of rows awaiting his guidance, just as they had done before the end of the world. Except they were no longer in his megachurch on the outskirts of Grand Rapids but had taken refuge in the Temple Energy power plant.
Isolated near the lakeshore, the coal power plant had proven a stable, protected base of operations for his followers. A sizable portion of his congregation had followed him out of Grand Rapids to the Lake Michigan shoreline.
When the initial news reports of a deadly virus started spreading, they had congregated inside his giant warehouse-like church. They yearned for direction in the time of uncertainty, fearing their place in the world that God had turned his back on. They fled the city when the government had tried to keep them in place, his decision saving their lives.
After fleeing the city on parish buses, others joined them. People lost and searching, God’s purpose shining through them. The others they had found were casualties of Armageddon, scared and alone with no one to help them. No one except God. The pastor accepted them as they accepted God’s virtuous light.
“I am the smith of the Lord, and ever his humble servant. He has always known our path for he is omniscient,” the pastor said, spreading his arms wide as if he were a graceful crane welcoming his flock. He paced to and fro, letting the people indulge in his holy presence before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of black coal. He rotated it in his fingers, holding it high so they all could see. They gawked as if he held the Hope Diamond, their eyes sucking in its very presence.
“This is one of them. The media in all their corrupted wisdom called them sick. People were slaughtered for listening to their lies for they know nothing of God’s will. They were blind to what was happening.” Shouts of “aye” and “yes” punctuated from his followers.
The pastor tossed the piece of coal into the air and caught it. “This.” He twisted it in his fingers. “This is Satan’s foot soldier. Some call them infected, but infected with what?”
“Sin,” a boy shouted from the front row.
The pastor gingerly bent down in front of the boy. “That’s right, Will.”
The pastor stood back up, ignoring the pain in his back, and held the piece of coal up. “The government said to restrain them, but we knew better all along. We knew what they were capable of. We knew that they weren’t like us anymore. The doctors told us they were sick, but their souls were already gone, replaced with the devil’s own ilk. The disciple Mark warned about this in the Bible when Jesus removed the demons and sent them into the swine. They are many and they are Legion.”
He held the piece of coal level with his eye. “We know that we are children of God and that the whole world is under the control of the evil one. The host of the dead was chosen by Satan himself to wipe mankind from the earth. They are many. Their sin pollutes everything they touch.” A few people shouted nos in the audience. A woman stood pleading, her arms in the air with despair.
He nodded sadly, his thin clean-shaven face gaunt with sorrow. “We live in the most difficult time, but we need not be afraid because when we throw these devils into the holy fire of the Lord-,” he said, stopping in front of the large furnace behind him. He tossed the piece of coal into the furnace, and the flames crackled with molten hot fire leaping about. “He rejoices at our blessed acts.” His people nodded their heads, murmuring in agreement.
“The more of the Legion you send back to the fires of hell that spawned them, the hotter God’s fire will burn in your hearts. It will burn so bright inside you, you will become like molten steel, smoldering with God’s love.” He locked his hands behind his back and continued his pacing.
“I mold men in the fires of hell and beat them into instruments of God. Instruments of righteousness. This is what you are.” He pointed out at them. “You wage a holy war against Legion, against those marked by the beast and the unbelievers, against those who refuse to recognize his greatness.” His followers stood now, infused with the passion and power of his sermon.
Gesturing for them to be seated, he gave a gentle wave to a man that stood nearby. He was lean and handsome, his wavy blond hair parted and combed over his head.
“Come forward, brother.” He waved the man onward with his hand. “Many of you know my disciple, Matthew.” Matthew approached, taking his place by the pastor’s side, holding his improvised wood-handled flail in his hands.
“When Matthew came to us, he was scared and alone. He knew nothing of God’s love.” He looked at Matthew. “What was your occupation before Armageddon?”
Matthew smiled at the crowd. He was accustomed to public speaking.
“I was a bank manager at New Heights Bank in Comstock.”
“What did you do as a bank manager?”
Matthew’s smile faded and he cast his eyes downward. “I gave people bad loans, and when they defaulted on their payments, took their land and homes.”
The pastor nodded his head knowingly. He narrowed his eyes, trying to understand. “And why did you do this, Matthew? Those were good people out there, only trying to make ends meet.”
Matthew’s eyes filled with the tears of regret. “To make more money.”
The pastor nod
ded. “Ah, yes. Greed. Greed is the sin of the many. Money infects all it meets. Yet you are here and one of the highest of God’s Chosen people.”
Matthew turned toward the pastor. “When you found me, I was starving. I hadn’t eaten in over a week. I was locked inside the bank vault with nothing but a few bottles of water. The devil’s own terrified me.”
The pastor patted Matthew’s shoulder. “You were like a child. A canvas of only needs, but your destiny was not to die.”
Everyone’s eyes were completely enthralled with the sinful hero’s story. Children sat in the front row watching the men, elbows on their knees, hands underneath chins.
“I have sinned. I know what it’s like to fall into temptation, but God has shown me the way. He rejoices every time we cleanse one of them from the earth. One club swing. One hammer swing. One bullet at a time.” The congregation openly cheered him on, now filled with the fervor of God.
“Your destiny wasn’t to sin forever. It was to join the blessed. Tell me, Matthew. How many of Satan’s legion have you sent screaming back to hell?
“Two hundred and twenty-six.”
“Two hundred and twenty-six of Satan’s spawn he has destroyed. He has sent their tormented twisted souls back to hell. For evil hath no place while the righteous stand tall in the eyes of the Lord.” People shouted, filled with God’s love.
“And how many do you expect to kill in the future?”
Matthew’s full smile faded as he humbled himself in front of the congregation.
“So many that the angels will rejoice.”
“God wills it!” the pastor shouted, and his people chanted it in return.
He raised his simple carpenter’s tool into the air, and they loved him for it.
“Jesus was a carpenter, and therefore, I will use his tool to destroy the wicked. Sleep well tonight, God’s Chosen people, for tomorrow our noble crusade continues.” He bowed his head in deference to them, holstering his hammer on his belt.
“May you walk in his image, brothers and sisters.” He nodded his thanks. He began his walk over to the floor manager’s office that he had commandeered as his quarters. His followers, his soldiers of Christ came to shake his hand, and it took him twenty minutes to get inside the small room. I give them hope where life only gives them despair.
The End Time Saga Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 87