"Now JT," Randall said in short breaths. "Don't do anything you might regret. Either one of you for that matter." He was over at the liquor, dapping some on a cloth he held up to his lip.
"Oh, we won't," smiled Hannah as she took a step back. "I'm feeling much better already. In fact, I am guessing the wine you gave me was drugged. It wasn’t enough I was emotionally vulnerable. How could I have been such a fool. It seems so obvious now you were never any holy man. Taking advantage of me, in the state of mind I was in."
Albright looked up at them, clearly still in shock. The lower part of his white shirt was now red as the wine he served Hannah. His fingers were worthless in stanching the flow of blood.
"I’ll be back," JT said, almost running out of the room. He came back in the room, with a wicked grin on his face. In his hands was a hangman's noose.
"Buddy," Gus said, kneeling down to Albright. "I don't envy you now. I don't know what my friend has planned, but it won't be pleasant. He can be a pressure cooker and right now it looks like he has blown his top. In your words, he is about to unleash the beast. Which I guess is what I walked in on you doing to Hannah, Rev."
"Gus." Hannah stumbled over her words. "Gus, that was...it was. God I am so embarrassed. And pissed. What was I thinking?"
"Girl," Linda said. "You're young, he's handsome and charming. Sometimes people we least suspect can pull the wool over our eyes. It worked on me for a little while, and I have a lot more experience than you. Like you said, he was might have been drugging you as well. Don't beat yourself up too much, he was feeding you what you wanted and you leaned into it."
"What was that?" Hannah asked, sounding desperate for reasoning.
"Hope," Linda replied. "Like with most of these folks, you were hungry for hope. He spooned it out, twisting it to get whatever he wanted. Guess I'm just too practical. It didn't work on me long."
"Enough talk. Time for action." JT was feeling calm for the first time since this whole mess began.
JT slipped it over Albright's head. Albright screamed. "No, no you can't do that. Not to me. This is not right."
"What? I thought it was okay to use this on the people who deserve it." JT tightened it around Albright's throat. He pulled at it, knocking the Reverend onto his back. Albright sputtered and grabbed at the rope.
"Go ahead, I'm staying here," Randall said, arms crossed. "I don't want to see this."
"I'm going to stay with him, see if I can get him patched up." Linda said. "Randall follow me back down stairs. I have better medicine down there to help you.”
"Suit yourselves," JT shrugged. "Even though I don't understand Sheriff. Don't you want to see justice done?"
"Sure I do. I'm not willing to become an executioner though. Albright's power is broken. Charlie's dead. That's enough for me."
"Count me out to," Gus chimed in. "I don't want to take part in any more bloodshed."
"Gus, he manipulated me into killing Tyrone. Pushed me into almost having sex with him. He is responsible for potentially ruining my life and the lives of others. Are you saying what we are doing is wrong?"
JT felt something he didn't think possible. His raged doubled, seeing the hurt on Hannah's face. This son of a bitch couldn't go up the tree fast enough.
"Darlin' all that’s true. You’ve been hurt so much, it breaks my heart. I'm not saying I don't think he deserves to pay for his crimes. He’s going to die from that wound in his belly. I’m fine with that. I'm not going to take joy in any more death."
"I don't feel like listening to a lecture. Let's get this done.” JT slung the rope over his shoulder and drug Albright along behind him. Hannah followed, rifle trained on the limp, wheezing Reverend.
"Sheriff, are you sure you want to head down this path? It's a real rocky road with a painful end," Charlie grinned as he raised his fists, clearly looking to enjoy delivering some pain.
"Charles, let me make this crystal clear so even you can understand. I’m no stranger to whipping a man's ass. Now I am going to take this here badge off and set it on this here dresser. If you can walk out of here with it, the town is yours."
Randall removed his badge and slammed it down on the dresser. Both men put on a theatrical show for one another as Randall rolled up his sleeves and tightened up his belt. Charlie matched his challenge by slowing sliding off his denim jacket and sweatshirt leaving him in a dingy wife beater. He had a wide smile on his face as he slicked back his matted hair and using a rubber band from around his wrist, pinned his hair back in a sloppy ponytail. The two men started towards each other in chess match like movements, feeling each other out and waiting to strike like a coiled snake.
"Well come on Randall, this is what you wanted right? Let's dance before the Lord. When I'm done beating your face, I'll bring Albright your head in a box."
Charlie swung first. Randall ducked out of the way and shoved Charlie in the back as his momentum carried him past. Charlie quickly spun around and caught a jab right to his nose rocking his head back. He staggered back a couple of steps and rushed at Randall like a defensive tackle chasing the ball carrier.
Randall tried to hunker down and resist but Charlie was too strong as both men crashed over a trunk at the foot of the bed, falling to the floor. Randall gasped as Charlie squeezed his hands around his throat. He tried to break Charlie's grip but with his leverage he had no chance. A gunshot bust through one of the windows, sending glass spraying everywhere and distracting Charlie enough for Randall to jam his thumb into Charlie's eye, causing him to break his hold or risk losing his eye.
Charlie rolled away and returned to his feet. Sheriff Randall took a bit longer to make it back to his feet, cursing the process of aging the entire time. Punks like this he would have chewed up and spit out ten years prior.
He was up in time to get caught in the jaw by a vicious uppercut. It felt like his teeth had exploded out in a volcanic spray. Randall's head whirled around in a dizzying fashion. He wobbled back and caught himself on the bed.
Charlie didn't let up. He came at him again, punching him twice in the face and landing a hard right hook flush to his cheek. Randall sat back on the bed trying desperately to regain his composure. He didn't think he had ever been hit so hard in his life.
Charlie stepped back to swing again but this time he telegraphed it. Randall ducked out of the way just in time by sliding to the floor and rolling under him. Randall kicked as hard as he could from his sitting position and connected into the side of Charlie's left knee. He screamed in rage and pain as he staggered. Sheriff Randall saw his opening and attacked.
He came at Charlie throwing a flurry of rights and left, landing one right in Charlie's throat. Charlie wheezed and grasped his neck. Randall followed with two hard shots right to Charlie's solar plexus.
Breathing heavy and sweating now, Randall didn't let up. He came at Charlie again, delivering hard knees to his face and body. He straightened Charlie into a standing position and wound up for the knockout blow. This time Charlie went under the blow and faded back as he caught Randall square on the chin again.
Randall fell backwards onto his ass, dazed and confused as he looked out for Charlie's next move. He could see him but Charlie was a blur. He stepped forward kicking Randall right in the middle of his chest.
Randall rolled over on his elbows trying to get up or defend himself. He felt Charlie swish by, saw him retrieved his Sheriff's Badge from the dresser. Through increasingly fuzzy vision, Randall watched as Charlie pinned it on himself.
Randall had made it to his hands and knees. Charlie returned to his punishment, kicking him. This time right in the side of his jaw, which landed with a sickening thud. The blow sent Randall over on his back, eyes darting around the room, fading in and out but staying above consciousness. He groggily watched as Charlie stood above him staring down, placing his foot on Randall's throat.
"You don't fight too badly for an old man Randall," Charlie leaned in a little, more adding pressure to his throat.
"Fu
ck you Charlie," Randall spit out the words through his now busted open lips.
"Hear ye, hear ye," Charlie began. "Dear beloved people of this church and of the town of Gateway City. I Charles Dean Robinson am hereby declared your new Sheriff and sworn protector!" Charlie raised his arms in praise and victory.
As woozy as he was Randall still noticed the knife in Charlie's boot. He eased it out as Charlie continued his celebration.
"Charlie," The Sheriff gargled out the words.
Charlie looked down to see Randall plunge the entire length of the hunting blade into his calf. He howled in agony as the pain surged up and down his leg. He lost his balance and stumbled off of Randall, bending over to clutch his wounded limb.
Randall rolled over and rose to his feet. Once he was sure he had his balance he kicked Charlie as hard as he could in his backside. The blow sent him crashing forward head first into the large mirror that ran the length of the dresser with a satisfying crack. Charlie slumped to the floor in a fetal position, crimson streaks now trickling down his forehead. Randall supported himself on the dresser and berated Charlie with incensed anger.
"You have the right to remain silent." Stomp.
"Anything you say can and will be used against you." Stomp.
"You have the right to an attorney." Stomp.
"If you cannot afford one, one will be provided." Stomp.
"Do you understand the rights I have just given you?" Randall knelt down beside Charlie and without warning or hesitation pulled the knife out of his leg. Charlie let out a guttural growl.
"Well Charlie, do you understand your rights?"
"You're all going to burn in hell, just like that crackhead Jelly and that little nig...." Randall thrust the knife into Charlie's throat before he could finish. Charlie's breathing sounded like he was gargling mouthwash. Randall stood and watched as the light faded from Charlie's eyes until the last strained breath left his body.
Sheriff Randall bent down one more time and ripped his badge from Charlie's lifeless body. It would appear as though my hypocrisy no longer knows any bounds.
JT and Hannah dragged a choking Albright through the pews and out the front door. They passed a few parishioners who gasped or watched bug eyed as their Reverend was hauled past them.
"No, you can't do this to him. He's a man of God. He saved us, protected us," a woman shrieked. She ran at JT and hammered on his chest in a fit of rage.
"Alice, Alice," Hannah said soothingly, stowing the rifle over her shoulder and grabbing her hands. "He's a fraud. I see that now, even though you and I couldn't have at first. He’s not a holy man. He’s filled with death and deceit. You saw him make me push my friend into the cage, turning him into one of those monsters outside. If he would do all this,” Hannah spread her arms out wide, “Who knows how many other atrocious acts he committed. Now he’s going to pay."
Alice stepped back, sobbing and shaking. "Thou shall not kill! Thou shall not kill..." She trailed off, made the sign of the cross, and walked a few steps back.
Other people from the gathering crowd were speaking up. Yelling started. They couldn't do this. What right did they have? Let our Reverend go! A man armed with a pistol stepped up. Hannah brought up the rifle she had at the helm.
"You don't want to cross me right now," JT growled putting one finger in the man's face.
The man dropped his hands and backed up. No one else stepped forward to challenge them. The two of them continued out the front door, down the stairs, and across the lawn to the large tree. Gloomy light weakly penetrated the foggy morning.
JT uncoiled some rope from around his shoulder and threw it up over a thick branch. He pulled and pulled, lifting the struggling Albright up into the air. A faint stream of profanity escaped Albright's lips as his feet left the ground. He was struggling to breathe. JT tied the rope off around one of the readied metal stakes, leaving Albright hanging only about a foot off the ground.
"Some of your former purgatory friends are on their way here," JT said, looking Albright in the eyes. "I hope they enjoy their meal."
Hannah looked at Albright as if she was about to say something. Instead she abruptly turned around and ran back inside. JT followed her and closed the door behind him. They watched through the windows on either side of the door as a small pack of seven zombies approached through the gloom. When they got close, JT could make out that one of the zombies was Tyrone. He heard Hannah make a sharp gasp. He guessed she saw him as well.
The first two zombies reached Albright, pawing at him and sending him spinning on his rope as he kicked and thrashed. Another came and got a hold on his leg and ripped into it. JT could hear Albright's hoarse screams through the window. Out of the corner of his eye JT saw Hannah turn from the window and walk away. He did as well a minute later, when all seven zombies, including Tyrone, went to chow town. He didn’t feel as much satisfaction at Albright’s death as he thought it would. His biggest thought was what a waste this all was.
JT walked through the pews, looking for Hannah. The church worship center was now empty. Where all the church people went JT didn't care. He found Hannah, sitting in the front pew of the church, looking up at the cross. JT sat down beside her. She was silent for a long while. He had no idea what to say.
"I hope I am not going to Hell," she finally broke, tears falling from her eyes. "Thou shall not kill. Alice was right about that."
"Hannah," JT said taking her hand in his. "Trust me when I say there is no such place. Besides, what you did was in self defense. What he did to Tyrone, he would have done to us all given the chance. I believe even you when he was…" He didn’t want to finish the sentence. Fuck why had this happened to them twice now?
"Trust you?" She body shook as if the sobs were torn from deep within her. "For all we know, we're already in Hell."
She barely got the words out before her crying became so hard her body quaked and she was unable to talk. She pulled her hand from JT's and covered her face. JT gave her a weak pat on the back. He felt so helpless to do anything else. Gus came into the room. He looked as miserable as JT felt. Seconds later Linda and Randall came back as well. The three sat down next to them.
Church members trickled into the room, keeping their distance from the five of them. JT looked at them and after a few moments, made a decision. He walked up the steps to the stage and spoke loudly, his voice echoing across the stillness.
"We’re leaving. Stay, go, I don't care what happens to any of you. Don't try and stop us. Don't try and follow us and I promise, no harm will come to any of you. Your false Reverend, the coward Albright, was just that, a fake, a murder, and a master manipulator. He has paid for the consequences of his actions." JT head down the steps back to where his group sat.
"What about all of the zombies you brought on us?" someone from the back suddenly yelled out.
JT stopped on the bottom step. He snapped his head up. "Deal with them. There are more waiting in the tunnels that lead into the basement. Maybe they haven't come out yet. I guess you better go and check." JT gritted his teeth. He was out of patience for any of these people. "Consider that your penance."
JT finished walking down and gently grabbed Hannah by the arm. He wanted to lead her out of the room, but she resisted. She pulled away and bolted up on the stage.
"I admit, I was taken in by Albright," she started slowly but built up steam as she continued. "I was in distress and grief. I needed God in my life again. It's not an excuse, it's a fact. A fact Albright took advantage of. He pushed me to kill my friend. Tyrone was his name. I will never forget him or my part in what happened to him. It will be with me all my life and when I die I wonder how God will judge me. Albright manipulated my pain and possibly even drugged me. A weak excuse I know. You people though. You were here a lot longer than me. Saw more than I ever did. You watched him hang people. Some of you even participated. Were those really evil people who had attacked the church or just people who didn't agree with Albright? Even more twisted, some of you wer
e willing to feed living people to zombies. What were you thinking? Is that the kind of environment you wanted your kids to grow up in? You wanted to live in yourselves? Just because he said the word God, you thought that made it right? I've learned commitment doesn't mean the same as blind obedience. Have you?"
She saw some defiant faces staring up at her but most wouldn't meet her gaze. Alice was one of the defiant ones. Hannah felt for the poor woman. Albright had twisted her faith into something ugly. She might end up staying that way for the rest of her life.
With how she felt off her chest, Hannah walked away. JT led the way as the five friends went out the back door and quickly crossed over to the college. Once outside, Gus made a pointing motion and they all headed back to the police cruiser.
The rising sun was burning away the fog. They made it back to the top of the hill where the logs made circles. JT stopped and looked back. He could see the zombies still shuffling around the tree. He decided he couldn't ignore the twinge in his gut any longer.
"Sheriff, what kind of range does your rifle get?" JT asked in a dead voice.
"Hundred fifty to two hundred yards, depending on what kind of shot ya are. Why you ask?"
"How far would you say we are from the church right now?" JT asked again.
"I'd say maybe a hundred or so yards."
"Can I use your weapon Sheriff? I can't leave Tyrone out there like that. Not as one of those things."
Randall grimaced as he took what JT was saying. He raised his rifle, surveying the area in front of the church by the killing tree. He came to stop and pulled away from the sight, looking to JT with a nod.
"No. Me. I want to be the one. I did this to him," Hannah whispered out the words.
"Hannah, no!" Gus and JT both exclaimed at the same time.
The Outbreak Series (Book 2): Purgatory Page 22