Undead Flesh

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Undead Flesh Page 18

by Dennis McDonald


  “Get out,” Jack demanded with the shotgun.

  “No!” Fear showed in the man’s eyes for the first time. “Not with those things out there!”

  “It’s either that or I shoot you in here,” Jack said.

  “Do it. Just don’t let those things get me.”

  “You’re not worth the ammo.”

  Jack planted a foot in Brody’s stomach, causing him to tumble out of the RV and land in the gravel of the road.

  “I’m going to kill you for that,” he said, jumping to his feet.

  “I’d run if I were you.”

  Brody bolted in the direction of his truck while Telia forced the other two brothers to the door at gunpoint.

  “Your turn,” Jack said to Jody.

  “Fuck you!” He jumped out of the RV to run after his older brother.

  Telia shoved Cody forward.

  “Don’t do this, I beg you,” Cody said. “Please don’t let them eat me.”

  “Get out!” Jack growled and shoved him out the door.

  Cody hit the ground and ran to catch up with his brothers. Seconds later the undead mob swarmed the Cordell brothers. Brody punched wildly with his fists while shoving zombies aside. He dived inside the driver’s door seconds before they could pull him to the ground. Jody followed after him screaming like a little girl. Dodging the grabbing hands of his undead attackers, he succeeded in throwing himself into the side door as his brother started the engine. Cody was the unlucky one. Before he’d gotten halfway to the truck, the horrid mob pulled him to the ground while he kicked and screamed for help. In a brutal frenzy, the zombies tore strips of his flesh with their teeth and their hands ripped open his torso to yank out his ropy intestines. His screams soon became a bloodcurdling gurgle. The sight was so horrific that Telia pressed her face into Jack’s shoulder. He held her close until Cody’s screaming died down and the only sound was the sickening grunts of the feeding zombies.

  “Jack, you’re going to fucking pay for killing my brother!” Brody screamed out the window. “I swear it!” He slammed the pickup into reverse and backed over several zombies before squealing away in a cloud of dust.

  Kate opened the bedroom door. Her green eyes narrowed at the sight of him hugging Telia so close.

  “Jack, what’s going on?” she said.

  Telia stepped back and he locked the door.

  “More zombies showed up and I threw the Cordell brothers to them. Believe me, they deserved it. You didn’t see what they were hauling in the back of their pickup.” He turned to Doug. “Get us out of here.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. G.” He swiped at the blood from his torn lip and slipped the RV into “drive.” Natalie pulled away from the undead feeding on Cody’s corpse and continued through the center of town toward the church in the distance.

  “Do you think we’ve seen the last of the Cordell brothers?” Telia said.

  “I can only hope,” Jack said. “By the way, thanks for showing up the way you did. That move saved us all. I was just about to draw down on Brody, which probably would’ve gotten me killed.”

  Telia smiled. “Who says there’s never a cop around when you need one?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  While Doug drove Natalie in the direction of the Salt Fork River bridge, Kerri tended to his bloody lip with some gauze from the first-aid kit.

  “Does it hurt much?” she said.

  “Only when I smile,” he said, smiling up at her and wincing.

  “You handled yourself pretty well back there,” Jack said. “You kept the Cordells occupied so I could grab the shotgun. Sorry about the lip.”

  “I’m just glad I didn’t have a nipple ring,” Doug said and nodded out the window. “It looks like we’re here.”

  The headlights illuminated a barbed-wire gate constructed across the road. Jack leaned forward to study the construction as Doug brought Natalie to a stop. Draped across the front was a flag with the icon of a golden sun against a pure white background. Another flag flew from the steeple of a white clapboard church a hundred yards beyond the gate. The muffled sounds of a sermon in progress resonated from inside the building. The scene was lighted by the flickering of a large bonfire burning somewhere within the compound grounds.

  “What do I do now?” Doug said to Jack as he parked the RV. “Honk?”

  “Just wait here a minute.” He turned in his chair to face Telia. “Those crazy Cordell brothers were right about one thing. It looks like Reverend Matthews has set up his own country, judging by all the flags he’s flying.”

  “I don’t like it,” she said. “We’d better hide the weapons.”

  “You think so?”

  “They’ll probably confiscate our guns if they see them,” she said, sliding off her Glock holsters. “One of the first acts of being a sovereign country is to control the weapons allowed through your borders.”

  Jack handed her the Mossberg. “Where do you plan on stashing them?”

  “Under the mattress in the bedroom. I know it’s a little obvious, but we don’t have a choice. Hopefully, they won’t search the vehicle.”

  “Okay.”

  Telia rushed off to hide the firearms.

  Doug tapped him on the shoulder. “Here comes the welcoming committee, yo.”

  Two armed men in white shirts and black ties stepped up to the other side of the barbed-wire gate. The pair looked like typical Sunday-morning church deacons if one ignored their AR-15 rifles. Jack also noticed another peculiar feature about the two men: The symbol of a cross was painted in red on their foreheads.

  “You need to turn around and go back,” one of the men shouted toward the RV. “You’ve reached the borders of the Nation of God, and no one is allowed inside.”

  Jack rolled down his window. “My name’s Jack Garrett and my family’s with me. We heard there was a National Guard rescue station in Watkins. We need to drive across the bridge to get there.”

  “Go another way. The bridge is off limits. This land belongs to Reverend Matthews and the Nation of God.”

  Jack felt his anger rise. “The last time I checked, this was still the United States of America.”

  “Not anymore. God has passed judgment on America for its unbridled wickedness. This property belongs to the Nation of God and we await the glorious arrival of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Turn around and go back.”

  “We’re not trying to cause a dispute. We just want to pass through to the bridge.”

  “None shall pass,” the man said.

  Jack sat back in his chair.

  “The dumb-ass thinks he’s Gandalf,” Doug said with a dry laugh.

  Telia returned to the front of the RV. “What’s wrong now?”

  “They’re not letting us drive through their little pissant country,” Jack said. “I’ll just have to go out and talk to them in person, somehow convince them to let us through.”

  “The last time you left the RV and tried to talk to the Cordells? That turned into a disaster.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t think of another way.”

  “Then let me do it,” Kate said from behind them.

  He turned to find her holding her Bible by the RV’s side door. “I can’t,” he said. “It’s too dangerous. I don’t trust anyone after our last encounter. It’s best if I went and talked to them.”

  “The problem is, dear, you don’t speak their language.” Kate tapped the Bible with her fingers. “I do.”

  “She’s got a point,” Telia said.

  Jack sighed. “Okay, but I’m going with you.”

  Kate shook her head. “I go alone. You stay here unless things go wrong. You’ll be able to drive away and protect the kids.”

  “You’re not going out there by yourself.”

  “Jack, please let me do this my way.”

  “She’s our best hope of getting in there,” Telia said.

  He let out a long frustrated exhale. “All right. Talk them into letting us pass through to the bridge. Nothing more. If things get w
eird, you walk away and come back.”

  “Define weird after today.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Kate opened the side door and prepared to step out. “Everyone wait here.”

  “Please be careful, Mom,” Kerri said.

  “Please,” Brett seconded.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve got the Lord on my side. You two stay and take care of your dad until I get back.” She flashed a smile at them and stepped out of the Winnebago.

  “This is crazy,” Jack said, watching her approach the two men at the gate. “I need to be out there with her. It’s too risky.”

  “Jack, you should give her credit,” Telia said over his shoulder. “She’s stronger than you think.”

  “She did rack Cody Cordell right in the freaking balls,” Doug added.

  “I know. It’s just everything depends on her now.”

  “She’s a beautiful woman holding a Bible. Any Christian man is going to have a hard time telling her no,” Telia said. “I think she knows what she’s doing.”

  “God, I hope so.”

  Jack watched as Kate talked to the two men. One of them pulled out a handheld radio and spoke into it. A tense couple of minutes passed before the man on the radio motioned for the other to open the gate. Kate headed back to the RV.

  “They’re letting us inside,” she said. “But there’s one stipulation.”

  “I should’ve known,” Jack said. “And that is?”

  “We have to attend the church service and talk to the reverend.”

  * * * *

  After the two deacons rolled aside the barbed-wire gate, Doug wheeled Natalie slowly into the compound while one of the men walked in front of the RV and directed their progress with a flashlight. The other closed the gate behind them. As they drove through the property, Jack took a moment to study the layout of the Nation of God. The first thing that caught his attention was a raging bonfire in a field on the other side of the road. He saw two more church deacons—also with painted crosses on their foreheads—toss a body onto the flames and realized that what was on fire was a pile of corpses. The nauseating stench of burned flesh infiltrated the RV’s interior.

  “Gross,” Kerri said. “What’s that terrible smell?”

  “Cooked zombies,” Doug said. “At least I hope they’re zombies, yo.”

  “That makes two of us,” Jack said.

  Their guide motioned for them to pull into a parking place alongside a line of other vehicles. Jack looked farther down the road. The Salt Fork bridge stretched across the river and appeared to be undamaged. Two vehicles parked at the bridge entrance formed a barricade.

  Jack checked the dashboard clock as Doug parked Natalie. “One thirty-one,” he said. “We’ve got four hours to get to that airlift. How many miles?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “We can make it if we don’t stay here too long,” Jack said.

  Their armed guide tapped the passenger window. With his close-cropped hair and wide face, the man looked more like an insurance agent or a high school coach than a fanatical gay-hating Christian. In the flickering light from the bonfire, Jack saw that the cross on the man’s forehead had obviously been made with dried blood.

  “We’ll be out in a minute,” Jack said after rolling down the window.

  “Make it quick. You are to be indoctrinated by the reverend.”

  “Indoctrinated?”

  “All new converts must be washed in the blood of the Lamb.”

  “Is that what you’ve got painted on your forehead?” Jack said. “Lamb’s blood?”

  The man nodded. “The blood of the Lamb protects us until our Lord, Jesus Christ, arrives.”

  “Okay, give me a minute.” Jack rolled up the window. “When they agreed to let us in, what did they tell you?” he asked Kate.

  “That we just had to go to the church service to talk to the reverend.”

  “What’s this about being indoctrinated?” Telia said. “I don’t like the sound of that. I’m staying here in case something goes wrong.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Jack said. “I don’t see a reason we all have to go into the church. Kate and I can convince them to let us cross the bridge. The rest of you stay here to guard the weapons and man the fort. I don’t know about this indoctrination thing, but we haven’t got a choice.”

  “It probably involves you wearing some lamb’s blood on your forehead,” Doug said.

  “That’s not so bad if it helps us reach that airlift in Watkins.”

  “We’ve got to get across the bridge,” Telia said. “There’s no other way around it. If we take a different route, we’re not going to make it in time.”

  “I know.” Jack glanced out the side window at the waiting deacon. “At least he’s not coming onboard to confiscate our weapons.”

  “Mom and Dad, please be careful,” Kerri said and hugged them. “I love you both.”

  “We will.” Kate kissed her cheek. “I love you, too. Stay here and watch over your brother.”

  “We’ll be back soon,” Jack said and followed Kate out the side door.

  The deacon looked them both over. “Just you two? What about the others?”

  “They decided to stay and rest. It’s been a long terrible day,” Jack said.

  “Then follow me.”

  With the stench of burning flesh drifting on the night air, the man led the way across the grounds toward the church. Jack couldn’t understand how the congregation was able to deal with the horrible smell. As they walked up the front steps of the chapel, he noticed that the double front doors were decorated with large crosses scrawled in blood. From inside the church, a man’s booming voice preached an emotional sermon of hellfire and damnation.

  Kate reached out and took Jack’s hand. “It’s been years since we’ve been to church together,” she said with a smile.

  “Yeah, it took the end of the world to get me back inside one.” He leaned closer so he could whisper. “I just wish there weren’t bloody crosses on the doors.”

  Their armed escort opened the double doors and motioned for them to enter. Jack stepped inside and scanned the room. The chapel was illuminated by Coleman lanterns strategically placed to provide the best lighting. Worshipers filled the rows of wooden pews to near capacity while listening to the fiery sermon from the pulpit. Most were families clutching their children, their tired faces turned toward the new arrivals as they entered. From the oldest senile man to the youngest infant, Jack saw that they all had the mark of the bloody cross on their foreheads.

  He turned his attention to the pulpit and did a double take. For a moment he thought Reverend Matthews was a zombie. The man was gaunt, with a lined face and steel-gray medium-length hair combed back from a wide creased forehead. Dressed in a white sweat-stained shirt with a loosened black tie, his ice-blue eyes glanced up at Jack while he read from his Bible to the congregation.

  “ ‘And every mountain and island were moved out of their places. And the kings of the earth, and the princes, and the chief captains, and the rich, and the strong, and every bondman and freeman, hid themselves in the caves and in the rocks of the mountains; and they say to the mountains and to the rocks, fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb: for the great day of their wrath is come; and who is able to stand?’ ”

  Jack and Kate settled into the last pew, and Jack surveyed the room. Behind the pulpit, a dead lamb hung suspended from the ceiling with its throat cut. Blood dripped from the carcass into a large brass bowl. Occupying the choir box were church members clad in white robes that appeared to have been fashioned from bed sheets. All the men and women of the choir bore the same bloody crosses on their foreheads. On the wall above their heads stretched the flag of the Nation of God.

  “If they start rolling in Kool-Aid to drink, I’m out of here,” Jack whispered to Kate.

  “Shhh,” she said.

  As if he had heard her admonishment, Reverend M
atthews pointed straight at Jack. “I said who will stand with the Lord?”

  “Excuse me,” Jack said.

  “I said who shall stand with the Lord?” Reverend Matthews said louder.

  “I just got here with my wife,” Jack said. “I didn’t hear the sermon.”

  “Please stand.”

  Very aware that everyone in the room was watching him, Jack rose to his feet.

  “What’s your name, son?” Reverend Matthews said.

  “Jack Garrett.”

  “So, tell me, Jack, do you believe in the Lord?”

  He pondered the question for a second. “I don’t know,” he said.

  “You don’t know?” Reverend Matthews said. “Have you not witnessed the wrath of God today? Did not the earth move and the sky turn to dusk? It’s the Day of Reckoning and still you don’t know if the Lord exists? How much proof do you need? Only an idiot could deny his existence now.”

  “It just doesn’t seem the work of a loving god,” Jack said, remembering the words Kate had used earlier in the day to describe the apocalypse.

  “You’re so right, son, for it’s not the work of a loving god but a wrathful one. A god that has passed judgment on mankind for his wicked ways.” Matthews raised his Bible and shouted above the heads of the congregation. “For the wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness.”

  “Amen,” the choir said in unison.

  The preacher’s steely gaze returned to bore deep into Jack’s. “I ask again. Are you saved in the eyes of the Lord?”

  “No,” he said and added with a dry chuckle, “I guess not.”

  “Well, son, that’s easily fixed. All you have to do is join me here on the pulpit and be washed in the blood of the Lamb to become part of our family.”

  “With all due respect,” Jack said, choosing his words carefully, “I didn’t come here to join your congregation. I came to ask if I can drive my family across the Salt Fork bridge. If you let us cross, we’ll be on our way.”

 

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