by Zuko, Joseph
Dallas moved in next to Brother Paul as they watched Ranger Two head off for the Doctor. “Are you sure about this?”
“I’m not sure of anything anymore, but I have to trust him. God is in his heart now. He’ll be safe.”
Brother Paul’s own words echoed around his cranium as the memory faded.
If I panic it helps no one. I must remain calm.
“Brother Paul?” Dana asked again.
He spoke without looking at her, “I have this under control, Dana.”
Scott sat at his desk. His fingers rested on the keyboard awaiting a command.
Paul cleared his throat and said, “Get me the location of the truck.”
Scott’s fingers tapped out a few strokes. He grabbed the mouse and zoomed in on the tiny blip.
“It’s way off the map. The truck’s located on SE 38th, passed 192nd.” Scott turned from his screen. “That’s not even close to his target destination.”
Brother Paul’s features remained as still as an untouched lake, but inside he was a raging inferno.
Where the hell was Eric going?
“Tell me exactly what they said.”
Scott adjusted his thick glasses as he recalled the exchange. “He said they had Eric, but the five others…” He looked around the room. “…were dead.”
Dana untied her arms from her chest and covered her mouth with the palm of her hand. A few whimpers shuddered from the crowd at Brother Paul’s back. The radio silence was killing him. He keyed the receiver and held the mouth piece close to his lips. “I repeat. Get me the leader of your group… Tell me what has happened to my people…” He released the receiver and faced his flock. His eyes rested mostly on Dana. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise you. Please resume your duties. Dana, please get everyone to work.” He pivoted back to Scott. “I need a list of the residents on that street and get Dallas and Blaine in here.”
Scott raised a walkie-talkie and thumbed the button. “Dallas, Blaine, please report to Brother Paul’s office, over.” He dropped the walkie on the desk and got to work on the list.
Dana and the support staff at Brother Paul’s back hadn’t moved a muscle.
They don’t think I can handle this.
They’re losing faith in me.
The plastic CB receiver groaned under the pressure from Brother Paul’s powerful fist. “Standing around listening to this radio won’t help us get Ranger Two back any faster. Please resume your regular work and I’ll inform you when there is any status update. Thank you.” He added for closure. Looks and glances darted around the room before the first person moved. That seemed to be the magic words. One by one they shuffled for the door.
Before leaving, Dana stepped closer and touched Paul’s back. “He’s like a little brother to me too. Find him and bring him home safe.”
Her touch was comforting and her words meant the world to him, but he couldn’t respond. If he did his polished exterior would crack, showing just how fragile he really was. So he kept his head down and stayed focused on Scott’s computer screens. He prayed for someone on the other end of this radio to speak and give him good news, but they continued to remain silent.
Dana turned and headed for the door. As she exited the office, a handsome young man dressed in a button up shirt, thin tie and fitted slacks pushed his way past her.
He solemnly whispered, “Peace be with you.” As they passed, he side stepped his way inside the room. His pristine appearance made it clear he’d received a full night’s sleep. He clutched at his Bible with both hands and kept his shoulders pulled back.
Brother Paul’s chin touched his shoulder as he glanced toward the newcomer at his door. As cool as a block of ice he said, “We are a little busy this morning. Is there something I can do for you Pastor Caruthers?”
“I’m concerned, Brother Paul.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, the violence I witnessed yesterday.” He turned to a page in his Bible.
Brother Paul handed the receiver to Scott, turned and stepped quickly across his office. In three steps he was inches away from the Pastor, cutting him off before he could find the passage he was looking to quote. “I’m not in need of a sermon this morning, Pastor Caruthers. I have more pressing matters.”
The Pastor breathed in a lungful of courage. “I wish to be included on this counsel’s decisions before they execute citizens.”
Brother Paul pressed his lips together as he narrowed his gaze. “How long have you been with us?”
The Pastor’s courage split a little at the seams and his jaw zig zagged side to side as he deliberated on the correct response. Instead of being cute he went with the truth and answered, “Just over a year.”
“That’s right. This plan, the way everything is structured, how we run things, it was all put into place long before you arrived.”
“I think it-”
Brother Paul cut him off, “That is the beauty of this plan. You don’t have to think. It’s not your job to think. You were hired to be the handsome public face of this church. To look good on the website and increase membership. To grow our flock so we would have a better chance of saving people and surviving a disaster.” The further Brother Paul got into his explanation the quieter he spoke. “Let me clarify your position here.” He stepped closer and fully invaded the Pastor’s personal space. “You check in on the people, listen to them, console them and give the people encouragement to forge ahead.”
Pastor Caruthers’ posture changed. His shoulders caved as his head dropped.
“I’m not talking down to you. Every role is important. Everyone in this building has lost a loved one. Their family and friends have been torn apart by this madness. They need consoling. They desire a kind ear to lay their troubles on. Be their healer. ” Brother Paul reached out with both hands and forced Caruthers shoulders back to their former, proud stance. “Pray with them… and let me handle the rest. Can you do that for me?”
Footsteps marched down the hall behind the Pastor. Dallas and Blaine rounded a corner.
Pastor Caruthers nodded. “Yes, I… I can do that for you.” He left the office smiling with a chipper excitement to go talk to someone in need.
Dallas and Blaine bobbed their heads at the Pastor as they crossed paths. “Pastor,” they both said and didn’t pause for any small talk. Dallas’ broad shoulders nearly touched both sides of the door frame as he entered the office. He removed the toothpick from his mouth and tossed it in the trash can by the entrance.
Brother Paul asked them, “Please close the door,” as he stepped behind his desk. He slid open a drawer and pulled out a fifth of scotch. The cork squeaked as it popped from the bottle’s neck. He quickly poured two-fingers worth into a glass on his desk.
“It’s still early,” said Dallas as he folded his thick arms across his wide chest.
“Yes, it is,” answered Brother Paul as he replaced the cork and set the bottle next to the glass.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?” Blaine jested, not able to gauge the tension in the room.
Brother Paul lifted the glass, paused as he inhaled the powerful aroma before taking a sip. “We’ve got a problem.”
Dallas cocked his head back. “Just the one?”
Blaine stepped closer to the desk. “Have you been out beyond the perimeter? We have a ton of problems.”
They think I don’t understand.
As if I don’t comprehend the danger.
Brother Paul sipped once more before laying out the issue, “It’s Eric and his team. They have gone missing. The vehicle’s located on the other side of 192nd. Gather a crew, find them. Anyone gets in your way. You know what to do.” He emptied the glass.
Dallas shifted his weight and scratched at the stubble on his chin.
Blaine scoffed and said, “That’s suicide.” He tugged at Dallas’ arm as he headed for the door. “We barely made it through last night. Now we’re gonna be shy six men and you want us to risk another team? It would p
ut the whole church in harms way.”
The big man stayed put. His gaze was unrelenting as he stared down the man across the desk from him. Brother Paul noticed it right away, the hesitation, the fear.
I’m asking too much, but Eric needs me to save him, again.
It took Dallas a full minute to formulate a proper response. “I’m sorry for your brother and the rest of Ranger Two’s crew, but they knew the risk. You know the rules. You wrote them. If a ranger falls there is no rescue mission. The streets are packed with those things. To get to 192nd and back in one piece would be a mirac-”
Brother Paul slammed the empty glass onto his desk and croaked, “I’m begging you.” His eyes became glassy and threatened to shed tears. “He’s the only blood I have left in this world.”
Blaine’s hand rested on the doorknob. “It’s too risky. We have to wait for this infection to calm down.”
Brother Paul fought to regain control of his emotions. “Please. If Eric is out there you have to find him and bring the boy home.”
“He’s no boy.” Dallas set his hands on his hips. “Boys don’t have those kinds of urges.” He surprised himself with that line.
Brother Paul snapped to as if Dallas spit in his face.
Blaine let go of the doorknob. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” Dallas brushed off his comment.
Brother Paul set the bottle of scotch back in his drawer, “I’ll go myself.” He stepped from behind his desk and headed for the door.
Scott spun in his chair and yelped, “You can’t leave us!”
Dallas caught Paul by the arm and stopped him from passing. The two locked eyes. Dallas focused and studied Paul, checking for any signs that the man was bluffing. Paul was crystal clear on his intensions.
Paul puffed out his chest. “He’s my brother. I have to do something.”
Dallas turned him and as they faced each other he said, “It’s not your job.”
“Please, I beg you.”
“What does God have to say? Is there anything he has told you that could help?” Dallas’ tough façade melted. He searched for a good word or an ounce of hope from Brother Paul’s connection to the Lord.
With perfect timing Paul answered, “We are being tested, of course. If the task was not difficult or nearly impossible, then it wouldn’t be God’s work.” His next line sounded as if it was lifted straight from an ancient scroll. “He must know what each of us is willing to sacrifice for entrance into Heaven.”
Dallas pondered Paul’s speech for a moment and with a heavy heart he answered, “I’ll take care of it.” Dallas let go of Paul’s arm.
“You can’t be serious.” Blaine struck his forehead with the palm of his hand.
“I’ll ask for volunteers, but any people lost will be on you.”
“Aren’t they already on me?” The first half of a smile returned to Paul’s lips as he reached and grabbed Dallas by his bulging shoulders. “Thank you.”
“You can thank me when I get back. Scott, get me the address.”
Paul patted Dallas on the back one last time before letting him go.
Scott scribbled down the location on a slip of paper and passed it to Dallas as the big man was leaving.
Blaine stayed hot on Dallas’ heels as they exited the office. He waited for them to be out of ear shot of Paul before asking, “Why the hell did you agree to this mess?”
Without looking back at his friend Dallas answered, “You know why.”
Dallas headed straight for the armory and pulled an assault rifle off the rack. He inspected the gun. “Help me ask for volunteers. Start with the ones close to the people in Ranger Two’s crew. I’ll load the bus with supplies.”
“You think I’m going with you?” Blaine moved in closer and looked up at his friend.
Dallas reached for a magazine and slid it into the gun. “You’re gonna let me go alone?” His eyebrow raised an inch.
“You know how absolutely insane it is for us to attempt this? It’s like open mouth kissing your grandpa insane.” Blaine’s nervous tic forced him to scratch at the side of his head.
“I know.” Dallas produced a little box from his pocket. He opened it and plucked a fresh toothpick. His tongue snagged the sliver of wood and moved it to the corner of his mouth. The two men stared at each other. First one to speak loses.
Blaine broke. He grabbed a rife from the rack. “How many people do you want?”
“At least three, four would be best.” Dallas slung his rifle to his back.
“I’ll check with Dana and see who she thinks would be good volunteers.” Blaine lifted the same rifle as Dallas from the rack and gave it a once over.
Dallas picked up a backpack and filled it with ammo, a knife and a med-kit. He zipped it shut and pulled it up onto his shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the bus in ten. I’ve got to talk with the Doc first.” Dallas weaved through the crowd of busy worker bees and headed for Doctor Bryant.
Chapter 5
“It’s Brother Paul,” said Jim as he stepped toward the truck’s door. He reached in and turned off the radio. “The less we say to them, the better.”
“Who is Brother Paul?” Karen asked.
Sara beat Jim to the explanation. “They’re a church of gun toting crazies that took us hostage for an hour and they kill people. We saw them gun down two people in cold blood.”
Karen was baffled, “What?”
Frank popped the magazine from his rifle and checked that it was full. “They were organized, loaded with supplies and well-armed. The leader let us go after we promised that we wouldn’t be running around Vancouver committing murder.”
All eyes zipped to the pile of chopped carcasses in the front yard.
“And if you broke that promise?” asked Leon.
Jim faced him. “He said he’d make us and our families suffer.”
“Okay, that’s good. So we have nothing to worry about then.” Leon said sarcastically as he ran both of his hands through his black hair.
“And who gave us something to worry about?” Frank popped the magazine back into his gun.
Leon defended himself. “I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t know. How could I have guessed that was going to happen?”
Karen used her mom voice. “It’s okay Leon. It’s okay. You’re right. There was no way to know. Everyone just calm down and think.”
Jim turned from the group. He scanned the area. To keep a look out for any zombies racing toward the sound of arguing voices. He searched the street and houses that lined it. His wheels had been turning since he heard the familiar voice over the radio. A plan was formulating.
Sara noticed the look of concentration on his face. “Jim, what are you thinking?”
He started with, “It doesn’t matter.”
“What do you mean?” Karen reached for his arm.
“It doesn’t matter if they know their people are dead or if they can find us. Our game plan stays the same.”
Frank cut to the chase. “What’s the plan, partner?”
Jim made eye contact with everyone standing next to him. “We bury our dead, search the neighborhood for supplies, find a vehicle big enough to haul us and our gear out of here. Then we head for the goddamn hills. We put as many miles as we can between us and this infection.”
The plan was sound and covered every base. They nodded in agreement.
Jim raised his palm in the air for someone to give him five as he said, “All right, let’s get to work.”
Before anyone could get their hand up to meet Jim’s there was a rumbling sound coming from down the street. Something big was heading their way. As if a dump truck was cruising full speed over a field of drums.
The first of the infected zombies charged around the street corner. It was a young man dressed in workout clothes. From the waist down it was unharmed and its legs were moving like an NFL wide receiver. It looked like it could run a forty-yard dash in 4.3 seconds, even with pads on. Chunks of meat had been chomped fr
om his arms and shoulders. Its tank top was ripped and soaked with black blood. It wore a headband that read “Beast Mode”. At the rate it was moving it would be at Penny’s front door in less than a minute. The rest of the horde emerged behind him and they were moving fast. Most of them were also dressed in workout gear. Each one of them had a famous sporting goods logo on their clothes. Jim recognized one of the t-shirts from a local CrossFit gym.
Jim panicked. They must have been in class when this mess started yesterday.
A horde of super athlete zombies? Fuck me!
Everyone’s eyes were the size of softballs.
“Get inside!” yelled Jim. He bolted across the front yard where Cliff was still sitting catatonic.
Karen turned and raced for the front door. At first she stepped over Eric’s unconscious body, but then she paused. She couldn’t leave the asshole there to be torn to shreds.
“Leon, help me with him!”
Frank and Sara fired their guns at the front runners of the horde. Beast Mode went down hard. A round from Frank’s SKS ripped out of the back of its head, cutting its epic headband in two and its forward momentum sent the limp body tumbling, before it skidded to a bloody stop.
They shot down more of the leaders, but they were only putting a little dent in the horde. Their efforts managed to buy everyone a few more seconds to reach the safety of Penny’s house.
Jim made it to the edge of the yard. Cliff still hadn’t moved. “Come on man, we have to run!” Jim tugged at Cliff’s sleeve, but his new friend didn’t budge. “Move, or you’ll die!” Jim barked in Cliff’s face, but it didn’t make a difference. Cliff appeared dead already. “Shit!” Jim spun and aimed his rifle at the horde. He popped a dozen quick rounds trying to give himself another ten seconds to get Cliff moving. His shots were all over the place and only two zombies were hit in the face.
Karen hooked her arms under Eric’s and Leon grabbed him by the feet. The pressure on her injured wrist was unbearable. She screamed in pain, but lifted him anyway.
“We should leave him,” Leon said as he looped his arm around Eric’s ankle’s and with his other hand grabbed him by the belt to help take some of the weight off her end.