by Kuhn, Steve
Cutty was like, “Ooooh snap! Y’all like in the good book! Matthew, Mark, Luke, and… Welp, JC, look like you John—ya know, like John 3:16 an’ all dat.”
I slumped down from my spying in utter shock and awe. These crazy bastards thought JC was one of them. Great, exactly what we need, more fuckin’ JC fans.
Luke clarified the situation, explaining, “We are the Army of the Lord. Our mission is to exterminate the demons that have possessed the bodies of our dead and desecrated the land in Satan’s name—even the living that would perpetuate Satan’s will on earth. We cannot be harmed, for we carry with us the shield of the Light of God.”
Kylee looked flabbergasted and asked skeptically, “So, you’ve killed an entire military unit up ahead?”
Mark answered her with, “No, my sister… They were dead long ago… perhaps a week. Overran by the very demons they carted with them. We simply cleansed the bodies of their possessions. The days of holy water and prayer are no longer. So, the good Lord saw fit to bestow us with the proper weapons of exorcism.” He gestured at their vehicle and the weapons they looted from the overrun Kilo Company.
We’d been chasing a ghost.
JC whistled for us all to make ourselves known, and one by one we meandered around from behind the jeep. Their faces beamed with happiness as Matthew said, “Blessed is the day, brothers! Our army grows stronger. Surely we can prevail! Come with us. We have a safe place where we can talk more. Please, follow us. The Lord told us to come east a short ways and we would find what we seek. Now that the prophecy has come to pass, we may proceed.”
Without another word, they hopped in their Humvee and spun around, facing the west again. Wyatt piped in, saying to them, “Well, what else did he say? Wait, where we goin’?”
I’ve talked to God more times than I count, and he never says shit back… If he is up there, I think he’s laughing his ass off at me sometimes—right now in particular. Regardless, we’re following them. With the news of Kilo Company being overrun, we have nowhere else to go.
Entry 62
It looked like we were on the outskirts of Dayton when they pulled off the main road and onto a series of winding, countryside streets. When the Humvee pulled to a halt, it was no surprise that it did so in front of a huge stone-and-mortar church. We followed suit in the jeep, as did Murphy in his pickup.
Everyone exited the vehicles, and we did our usual sweep of the surrounding area before Matthew told us all, “We’ll be safe here until morning, brothers and sisters, but the next challenge waits at sunrise.”
Wyatt asked him, “Next challenge? What’s the next challenge?”
Luke answered him matter-of-factly, saying, “The training grounds of the Army of the Lord lie to the north, but they are filled with the demons of Hell. In the morning we will cleanse the area and take it for our own.”
Mark added, “It is there that we will build our Army, as well as a home for those who will hear the good word.”
Now, I can only assume that all that fancy talking means that they have a place they wanna move into, but it’s filled with stinks… and they expect us to go there and clear it out tomorrow. I really don’t care how pretty you make it sound, that idea sounds shitty to me.
The church thing we’re in right now is pretty fuckin’ nice as it is. It’s large, secure, and there’s amenities such as a kitchen and bathrooms and a sweet-ass bell tower that allows a 360 degree view of the surrounding area. Granted, there’s no power or running water, but the three yahoos have had it set up pretty good for a while now, so it’s workable. I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees the potential here.
Matthew continued, “The Lord told us that we would find John, and only then can the work begin properly. Mr. Jon Campbell here is our sign—the time has come.”
JC scoffed and shot back, “Look, fuckface, I ain’t your buddy. I’m pretty fuckin’ awesome, sure, but I ain’t the second coming… I can promise you that. And if you think I’m stickin’ my neck out for a couple of Goddamn Bible thumpers, you got another thing comi—”
Smack!
JC hit the floor and coughed and sputtered some blood before looking up to figure out what happened. Cutty stood over him with bloody knuckles like a hulking behemoth and spoke slowly. “Don’t be takin’ the Lord’s name in vain when you in church, and don’t be disrespectin’ these men here. Dey ain’t have ta bring us here and keep us alive fo’ one mo’ night. I done had about enough o’ you and ya stank-ass attitude, Mista JC. Now, I suggest you apologize to our hosts.”
JC rose to his feet holding his jaw and changed his tone slightly. “Look, I’m not who you think I am, is all I was sayin’. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to just assume that we’re going to be helping you at all.”
Matthew nodded his head and said, “Yes, you aren’t him yet, but you will learn. You don’t have to help us, but I think you will. This is in His hands now. Now let’s see to your wounded, shall we?”
He led Kylee to an office where she removed the dressing from her eye, and he even managed to get her to a point where she could go without the eyepatch. Unfortunately, even with his help she was still blind on that side and decided to wear a patch over it anyway, albeit a sleeker and not so medical-looking one.
While all that was going on, I had an opportunity to sit with Murphy and Luke and dig a little deeper into what was going on with these three guys. Luke explained that they believe the current events are those outlined in the Book of Revelation and that the faithful and pure people are the only ones that will survive to rebuild society as God intended.
Murphy tried to reason with him, saying, “Ya know this ain’t no spiritual whatever you call it. What’s happening to the dead is man-made… not the devil.”
Luke smiled softly and replied, “Brother, when mankind toys with the Creator’s plan and attempts to manipulate what He made, that is the work of the Devil. You must look past what you think and realize that.”
Murphy wrinkled his nose and continued, “Yeah, but we played with the genetics. We caused this.”
Luke again argued, “Brother, who do you think made those genetics? It was God’s creation. It was not God’s intention that it be changed, but alas, many men are arrogant and think themselves worthy of such privilege. And it was Satan that pushed them to do such things.”
Murphy snorted and shook his head, saying, “We’ll have to agree to disagree… The way I see it, manipulating genetics has allowed saving countless lives and curing countless diseases. Surely, y’all can see that as something good and admirable.”
Luke cocked his head slightly in thought before musing, “Perhaps those people were meant to die… They were being called Home, and your science robbed them of that. Your friend… Trey, I think his name is… he said you used to do those things, but you were forced to stop. You should thank God for that. You were guided away because your heart is pure, yet your mind remains clouded. You are on the right path, though, and for that we are grateful.”
I was beginning to realize that these guys may not be as weird as I had initially thought. I mean, they just saw things in an entirely different light. I still didn’t agree with them, but who the fuck was I to judge them? Maybe it was God. I told Luke about the Haven and what we went through there before asking him, “Why are there so many bad people left then? Why are there murderers and rapists still here if your God is cleaning house?”
He replied, “Where are those Haven people now?”
To which I answered, “I guess they’re all gone now… They were with the military unit that you saw overrun.”
Luke smiled and clasped his hands together, saying, “There’s your answer, brother. They are gone. Justice has been done.”
Now, this sorta flipped my wig a little bit because he was right to an extent… Tyler, Cholo, the rest of the council… Regardless of who ended them… the result was the same. He’d probably say that we were acting for God when we murdered them for the greater good, and the rest of the road crew and t
he raiders… all gone. But one thing didn’t sit right with me about that whole thing. I said, “Well, Luke, that sounds fair, but explain why Hope, a little baby girl, was killed by her own mother. Explain why Kate committed suicide. Explain why the innocent people from the Haven were wiped off the face of the planet along with the bad people. Explain why I’m still here! I don’t deserve to be alive.”
Luke put his hand on my shoulder and told me, “My brother, those people weren’t fit to fight for the Lord, so they were called Home. All of us are judged. It just appears that God isn’t done with you yet, Dext.”
I chimed in and simultaneously spoke his next sentence with him, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
He nodded and smiled, but what he didn’t know was that I hate hearing that line. It’s a cop-out. It’s like every time you ask the clergy for advice or you have them backed into a logical corner, they start with the ‘mysterious ways’ shit. You can’t just put the brakes on an entire debate by saying that! Wanna know what I think? I think man works in mysterious ways. If there’s a God… that guy, more than anyone, is pretty fuckin’ consistent. Just sayin’.
The others joined us as I was writing this, so it’s time to discuss tomorrow’s particulars. I anticipate a heated discussion, so I’m sure I’ll be writing more before the end of tonight.
Entry 63
Surprisingly, last night’s meeting went smoothly, so I didn’t bother to write about it. And, frankly, I don’t really feel like writing anything right now, either. The only reason… The only reason I am doing this at all is because I said I would. I feel like this is something I have to do so you can understand what happened here today as well as what will happen for the remainder of my days until my clock stops ticking.
Murphy appeared with Fart by his side in the morning, having shaved his beard and moustache completely off. He had also cropped his hair short. He looked good… much younger now. I thought it was a bit funny because Wyatt entered the room with some of the others and said, “Who’s this guy?”
It was an easy mistake to make. I can’t help but notice that if Murphy told us the exact same story he told back at the house right now, I would believe him without a second thought based solely on his appearance. We are some judgmental assholes, no doubt about it.
When we were all assembled, we briefly reviewed last night’s details, which included where we were headed. A full check of equipment and ammunition was in order as well. It took forever, but Matthew insisted we go ready for war.
JC complained on and off, muttering things to himself like, “I must be a fucking idiot, running with this bunch of weirdoes,” and, “If y’all think I’m taking a bite for one of you, you must be bat-shit crazy.”
I was feeling a little (a lot) apprehensive as well. I just choose to express it on paper instead of making everyone else uncomfortable. We all have our methods, I suppose.
Luke informed all of us, “When we get there, the gates are open and you’ll see the demon horde. Do not panic, for God is on our side.”
Kylee, now carrying one of our M-4s, joked, “You can have God. I got this,” as she racked her weapon.
Rebecca rolled her eyes at Kylee and said, “Trey and I stayed up last night and made you all something…” She reached into her backpack and began laying out three metallic objects with very obvious fuses protruding from one end.
Wyatt’s eyes lit up, and he beamed, “Whoa! Pipe bombs!”
Kylee snatched up all three of them and scolded Wyatt, saying, “Yes, pipe bombs… and no you can’t have one.” She tossed one to Cutty and a second to Matthew, keeping the third for herself.
Wyatt pouted slightly and said, “Aw, c’mon, please?”
Trey chimed in, saying, “Look, little man, these things are filled with all types of nasty shit—nails, buckshot… Mess around with these things, and you ain’t comin’ back. This is ‘last resort’ type shit.”
Wyatt crossed his arms and protested, saying, “I’m not a kid dammit! I’ve probably killed more geeks than you have anyway.”
JC added, chuckling, “Kid’s probably right,” but Trey held strong on his decision.
Cutty put an end to it, saying, “You heard da man, young blood. It ain’t ’bout you bein’ a kid and whatnot. It’s ’bout experience. I know you could use dem things, but it’s all ’bout when to use ’em. Best leave dat to the experts. You gon’ get yo’ shot one day, young blood.”
Wyatt begrudgingly accepted it, but added, “Fine, but I’m taking Kylee’s big rifle.”
To which Kylee agreed, “Fair enough. I know you can use that.”
The matter was settled.
We hit the road and headed north for about two miles before the landscape opened up in an enormous clearing down the hill to our right. It was a great vantage point, but the view was less than savory. A huge compound lay below us containing multiple single-story, brick buildings and firing ranges covered with metal roofs and surrounded by cinderblock. The entire compound was cordoned off by a gigantic mortar wall and chain-link fence in some areas. It looked like an old Civil War-era fort that had been modernized over many years. It was packed with literally hundreds of the dead—so many that as we hopped out of the vehicles to survey it, we could smell them all the way up the hill.
Mark told us, “This is it, brothers and sisters. It’s a police training academy that the state owned and operated, as you can see. This will be the home for us and anyone else wishing to live safely and fight the War.”
JC promptly said, “Um okay… Yeah… fuck that.”
Those were my sentiments as well.
Kylee sighed. “There’s so many of them. Jesus…”
To whom Matthew replied, “Yes, we should pray.”
Matthew, Mark, and Luke made the sign of the cross on themselves and knelt in prayer. Cutty followed their lead, as did Rebecca. She pulled Trey down to a knee as well and whispered at him, “C’mon.”
Matthew led them in a brief prayer for their safety as the rest of us respectfully looked on in silence.
When they were through, they rose to their feet once more, and Matthew spread his arms wide as if figuratively grasping the entire compound below. He began, “Per istam sanctan unctionem et suam piissimam misericordiam, indulgeat tibi Dominus quidquid per gressum deliquisti,” and then repeated the rites once again in English so the rest of us could understand, saying, “Through this Holy Unction, and through the great goodness of His mercy, may God pardon thee whatever sins thou hast committed by evil use of the ability to walk.”
He signed the cross once more and exclaimed, “It begins!”
Cutty nudged him daintily and asked, “Uh… ya mind sayin’ that same stuff about us, Mista Matthew?”
Matthew informed him that the ritual was for only those about to meet God… and Cutty wouldn’t be needing it today.
We split into four groups as follows: Cutty, me, and Wyatt. Trey, Rebecca, and Kylee were together. Murphy and Fart were with JC. And then there were the three Christians. Kylee surveyed the compound and suggested, “We’re gonna have to go in there, you know that right? There’s so many that picking them off from up here is only gonna bring them flooding out. At least inside we can control where they are.”
Trey added, “I hate to say it, but you’re right. Problem is, that’s like fighting a pack of hyenas in an empty swimming pool. I’m not liking these odds.”
JC spat on the ground and said, “I knew as I soon as I met you people that you’d end up getting me killed.”
Cutty asked him, “Then why you still here?”
JC replied, “I was tired of being alone… and I don’t want to die alone.”
Mark said flatly, “When we enter the gates, our groups will break off, and we will cleanse everything. Keep your group tight, but make sure your units stay spread out so that the demons do not surround you. If you fall, it is God’s will. Be not afraid because you will be seated aside Him in heaven forever more.”
It began in a blur
of action and gunfire. We descended the hill, and the dead were dropping at the gates from precision fire from JC and the Christians. The stinks began slowly shambling towards the gunfire, so our groups broke off once we had made it inside the compound.
Cutty was hacking into them three at a time, and I was covered in blood and gore in seconds as it splashed from his blade. I was picking them off one by one along with Wyatt, but it wasn’t as easy as you would think because the flies were almost clouding the air around us. I slipped and fell to a knee no less than twice in black, jellied blood as our small group rounded the side of one of the brick buildings in an effort to get our backs to a wall.
The moaning was ringing in our ears terribly, but it was shattered by a piercing scream of pain and despair. Cutty looked at me and Wyatt, saying, “That sound like Trey. Shit man… Rebecca wit’ Trey!”
He slashed the head clean off of a geek as Wyatt popped two more rounds and shouted, “We can’t do anything about that right now, man. We’re drawing a crowd here.”
Fuck… I was out of ammo already. I called out, “Reloading!” as Wyatt spun around to fire over my shoulder.
He blew the face off of one more and told us, “When Dext is loaded again, we need to ride this wall down to the opposite corner and clear as we go.”
He was right. We were getting mobbed and had to stay mobile. Getting cornered is as bad as getting surrounded, but if we’re moving, the stinks are constantly changing direction, which takes them some time. If they can pursue in a straight line, they’ll just wear you down.
Cutty pulled his back off the wall and charged headlong into a pack of five. He gave the first one a kick, which sent it sprawling, and then the second one got a machete uppercut that sent the blade straight out of the top of its head. He was a machine! Three and four were offed with straight, downward chops through the forehead, and then he finished the one on the ground. Wyatt took out the last with a well-placed shot that rained brain and skull all over Cutty.
I shouted, “Done!” as I pulled back the slide on my pistol, and we displaced. As we reached the opposite corner, I could see Trey on the ground with a group closing in fast. He was holding his arm and bleeding a bit. No one else was anywhere to be seen. I figured they ran off for cover or were staying mobile. We couldn’t leave him lying there… We just couldn’t.