THE VALUE OF JADE (Mace of the Apocalypse #2)

by Daniel J. Williams

  Mace felt something wet on the back of his neck. A half-second later he heard a squeal that made him realize Chelsea had grabbed his squirt gun. They all turned to watch as Chelsea ran after Buster with the water pistol, who was exuberant at having a playmate and leaping all around her. Mace’s smile at the situation faded, as he realized the danger in growing too complacent. One misstep, one moment’s lack of awareness, could lead to death and disaster for everyone.

  Turning to look at the joyous expression on all their faces, Mace felt an even greater sense of purpose. They deserved the right to live with joy once again. Father McCann had once revealed to him that a leader without compassion could only be a tyrant. He felt an enormous amount of compassion and love for his fellow travelers. The anger that had taken over his life after Jason’s death was gone, draining out of him with the blood he lost in the final battle at the hospital.

  As they got back into their vehicles, Chelsea was still giggling over Buster’s gas. “That one could have killed a squirrel,” she said in all seriousness, and the laughter started up again.

  Shawn and Mace stood on top of the tanker, looking at the full load of gas inside.

  “Why the hell would someone abandon the truck if the tank was still full?” Shawn was shaking his head in disbelief.

  Mace was just as baffled. “I have no idea.” He looked around at the open salt desert all around them. “I don’t know how they’d make it out here. No telling what happened or why they left.”

  They pulled the siphon hoses from the van and topped off their gas cans and vehicles while continually looking around at the desert around them. “Let’s get out of here. This is giving me the creeps.”

  Shawn ended up driving the gas truck, saying he had driven rigs before, although the truck jerked and jutted forwards and died a few times before he got accustomed to the gears.

  Another bout of Busturd gas, which is what it was now called, led to another exit of the vehicles as they entered into Salt Lake City.

  “Why don’t we try to find a place to stop soon,” said Jade as Mace waited for Buster to take care of business. The dog just wouldn’t go. “It will be getting dark soon.”

  “We could,” Mace said, “although I’d rather find a spot a little further out from the city.”

  Paul Turchett came up behind them as Mace was trying to coax Buster to a bowel movement. “We’ve got to stop at Temple Square. I can’t miss it. I’ve always wanted to see it.” Paul’s face was all seriousness as he stared at the magnificent spires rising in the distance.

  Mace was stunned by the request and the urgency with which it was relayed. “You want to go Sightseeing? Are you joking?”

  Paul became agitated and started pacing in the middle of the street. The other vehicles sat idling, their occupants straining to hear and understand what was playing out.

  “I’m not leaving unless I get to see it! Why not do a little Sightseeing? When’s the next time we are going to be here? Besides, everybody is tired and ready to call it a day.”

  “Paul, you do realize that there won’t be any tour guides to follow, right?”

  Paul pointed a finger at Mace. “Don’t you patronize me. I know what’s going on here and we’ll get where we need to soon enough.” He looked up at the sky and spread his hands out before dropping his gaze. “It’s daylight. You hardly see any of them during the day.” He realized he’d do better not to piss off Mace, so he put his arm around him, trying to butter him up, saying softly, “It’s something I want my family to see. I have relatives that were murdered in the massacre at Haun’s hill.”

  Mace turned to face him, letting Paul’s arm drop from his shoulder. He thought about the compassion he felt for his fellow travelers, and realized it pertained to everyone except perhaps Paul. “You mean the massacre at Haun’s mill?”

  Mace had studied all religions closely after meeting Father McCann, who had urged him to study and respect all pathways to the Creator.

  Paul shrugged dramatically. “Whatever. I’ve got relatives who died there. I’m not Mormon or anything.”

  Seventeen Mormon’s were murdered in 1838 at Haun’s mill under order of the Governor of Missouri. The massacre was a result of ignorance and fear of the religious order. Mace reflected on that fact for a second and thought about the religious fanaticism behind the terrorist attacks. He couldn’t bring himself to respect mass murder as a form of spiritual enlightenment.

  Paul began to calm down a fraction. “Can’t we just all go along? I don’t want to get separated from the group.”

  "What about gangs, Paul? What about the endless number of problems we could face in the middle of a city? We'd be much better off looking for a place less congested."

  "Gangs?" said Paul sarcastically. "This is Salt Lake City for crying out loud. Besides, it's right there!" he said, pointing to the top of the spires in the distance.

  "Was Salt Lake City," responded Mace calmly. "Now it's just another barren wasteland."

  Mace was at a loss for any more words and looked back at Jade, who was sitting in the front passenger side of the SUV with the window rolled down, listening. She just hunched her shoulders as they locked eyes.

  Inside Paul’s car, Noreen fumed quietly, waiting for the scene to end. Stretched across the back seat playing Tupac at record volume on her Walkman, Melissa was bored beyond belief.

  Lisa finally got out of their car after speaking with Jade and lifted her head towards the spires, staring at them for a few long seconds, lost in thought. Approaching Mace, she said in a hushed tone, “To be honest, I think Chelsea would be better off if we stopped for a bit. She’s getting a little fussy. I think Buster could stand to go for a walk as well, if you know what I mean. If it wouldn’t be that big of an inconvenience, it would make the trip easier for us back seat riders.” She smiled a little uneasily. “It doesn’t look that far and this area does seem pretty quiet.”

  Unsure how to respond, Mace moved her away from Paul. “I'm really not crazy about stopping. I realize it’s quiet here but that doesn’t mean it will remain that way." Stopping to look up at the spires himself he experienced a moment of true regret. Focusing on their beauty in the midst of the despair that surrounded them he was briefly flooded with memories of the peace he felt seeing Father McCann in the afterlife. Maybe a little time spent in the quiet of a spiritual place might do them all some good.

  “I’m doing this against my better judgment,” he said to Lisa, “but maybe this is just what we need right now.”

  Lisa’s eyes turned soft as she looked back up at the spires and said quietly, “I never went to church and I don’t even know what I believe in, but right now that does look terribly inviting." A smile suddenly appeared on her face and she winked as she said teasingly, motioning towards Paul, “Plus, maybe we could just ditch him once we get there.”

  Mace laughed quietly. “Don’t tempt me.”

  Moving towards Paul, who was standing impatiently outside his car waiting for an answer, Mace’s smile disappeared as he addressed him. “We’re going to make this brief. Don’t do anything without me. We don’t want to get separated.”

  As he and Lisa reached the SUV, he whispered, “I’d love for us to get separated.”

  “Me too,” she chuckled.

  Getting back in the car they were greeted by more Busturd Gas.

  “What is that dog eating?” Mace said in exasperation.

  Chelsea squirmed around in her seat and noticed the empty bag of gummy bears in the back. “My gummy bears! He ate all my gummy bears!” She held up the empty package and said with a scowl, “What a butthead!” Throwing the package on the floor, she crossed her arms in disgust. “Sometimes that dog just makes me want to puke.”

  Paul led the caravan and Mace could feel his blood pressure start to accelerate until he saw Temple Square rise up like a beacon of hope in the madness of their world. Around them garbage and debris littered the streets, silent reminders of a lost civilization, while in front of them
stood the quiet beauty of a past life, filling their thoughts with memories of lost innocence and of what had once been.

  They pulled up to the 10-acre grounds and carefully exited their vehicles, looking for any signs of life or infection. Mace and Paul exchanged brief glances as they got out of their cars, and Mace could see a look of smugness on Paul’s, as if he felt like he’d won some sort of battle. Mace dismissed it as they began to move and stretch outside their vehicles.

  As they stared at the temple grounds, they all exchanged strange glances as they began to hear the faint, disconnected churn of organ notes coming from the Tabernacle. With no sense of harmony or rhythm, the chords blew across the gardens like disconcerting blasts of madness, sounding dark and grave in their tone and intent.

  Feeling hope fade, Mace stared at Paul who now wore a fearful mask that contorted his features. “Ready for the tour, Paul?”

  Paul avoided eye contact, not wishing to show any weakness. Mace turned towards Jade. “Get back in the vehicle and get ready to go. I want to check it out.”

  She grabbed his arm. “You don’t have to do anything of the sort. We could just get in the car and leave.”

  Shaking his head in disagreement, he said, “No, I can’t, J. I need to know what’s going on here.” Turning towards Lisa, he said “Sorry, Lees, I don’t think we’re going to be able to take much of a break.”

  Chelsea, who was watching Buster run enthusiastically around the cars, heard Mace and grimaced. “Mace, I have to use the potty.”

  Mace leaned down, putting a knee on the ground. “Can you hold it for just a little while, honey? I don’t know how safe it is around here.”

  She looked at him with an exaggerated face. “Of course I can hold it. I don’t just tinkle in my pants, ya know.” She looked out on the temple grounds and shook her head, pointing. “Buster can’t hold it. Look.”

  Mace looked over and spotted Buster in the typical arched position of a dog taking a crap. Chelsea started to giggle. “Eww, he’s going big time.” She thought for a second and said to herself, “I wonder if it looks like gummy bears?”

  Mace smiled, giving her a wink before rising and wiping the grin off his face. “Get ready to leave in a hurry if we have to. I’ll make it quick.” He turned towards Paul. “You’re coming with me.”

  Everyone began nervously piling back into their cars, except Shawn, Mike, and Jim, who checked their weapons and prepared to accompany Mace and Paul. Jim grabbed one of the crossbows and a field arrow carrying case from the back of Mike’s truck and joined the others as they prepared to investigate the source of the organ noise. Bill sat in the front passenger seat of the gas truck. He was getting too old for all of this.

  Once they made it to the door of the huge domed building the organ could be heard clearly, and it was certain to all that whoever was playing the organ was simply banging on the keys. The noise was grating and made the Tabernacle appear ominous and sinister. Mace stood outside the door and noticed Jim with the crossbow for the first time.

  “Good idea,” he said quietly. “Let’s use that first if we have to. No reason to draw any attention. Let's be real careful."

  He reached forward and grabbed the handle to the door. All four of them eyed each other before Mace opened it quietly. Inside, the massive Tabernacle was dark, and they quickly slipped inside, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the change in light. They could hear the organ louder now, and the disconcerting noise of the banging chords echoed throughout the Tabernacle hall, sending the hair tingling on their arms and necks.

  As their pupils adjusted and they took in the scene before them, each of them felt a shudder that started in their skulls and spread down to the tips of their toes. Inside the hall, numbering in the thousands, were grotesque and disfigured infected shaking in pews to the madness that flashed inside their brains. Mace felt sick as he noticed that in the choir loft most of the infected wore tattered robes of white. It was the Tabernacle choir, assembled and congregated for a requiem of horror. Mace could see littered remains of body parts in the rows, and immediately understood that this is where they brought their victims to consume their last remains.

  He could see the back of the organist, and it was an infected wildly smashing the keys to the hallucinations that seized him. He thought he looked like a demented Stevie Wonder the way his head thrashed back and forth. The stench of the place hit them full force just then, almost knocking them over, and they took a step back as the revulsion of the scene fully penetrated their consciousness.

  Paul turned and vomited, and as he retched loudly the figures stopped shaking, turning almost in unison to bore into them with the glow of their red, infected eyes. Arms slowly rose to point at them, and an army of bony and decayed flesh marked their position as a chorus of hellish, ghoulish moans erupted in the hall. The organ continued to bang out its nightmarish discourse as the figures began to move in their direction.

  Fear paralyzed them for a brief second before Mace reached for Paul, who had fallen to his knees, and pulled him up as they stumbled backwards and out the door of the Tabernacle, completely shocked by the spectacle before them.

  They shut the door, holding it in place and staring at each other, mouths gaped open, before Mace said, “The choir needs some practice.”

  No one laughed. “We’ve got about ten seconds before they try to come through this door,” he continued. “We need to think of something now.”

  “The tanker!” said Shawn. “I hate to lose it but we could just burn this whole fucking place down.”

  “We don’t have time to argue. Let’s do it. Fire it up and bring it around." Mace quickly surveyed their surroundings and said, "Just drive it through the fence there, knock down those little trees and swing it around to here.”

  Shawn raced towards the vehicles as Paul turned and started dry heaving. “I’ve got an idea!” said Jim. “I’ll be right back!” Mace put all his pressure against the door, struggling to keep it shut as the infected pushed against it. “Paul, damn it! I need your help!”

  As Shawn fired up the gas truck Jim returned, out of breath, with a roll of duct tape. “Let’s wrap it around the door handles!” The moans could be heard throughout the square as the infected pushed harder, trying to break free.

  The other vehicles were quickly fired up, and shouts of disbelief could be heard as the situation was relayed to them. Bill nervously switched to Hannah’s vehicle when Shawn fired up the truck, and he sat in the back seat tugging on a whiskey flask as Jacqueline carried on about Paul's arrogance.

  As Shawn began maneuvering the gas truck to prepare for the assault, Mace raced towards Jade to fill her in on the plan.

  “Start driving and we’ll meet you a mile down the road. We’re going to pile into Mike’s truck. If we’re not there in ten minutes, head on to Kansas. It means something went wrong.”

  Jade was almost exasperated in her defiance. “I’m not going anywhere without you. Don’t you get that?”

  Lisa seconded the motion from the back seat. “It’s all or nothing. We’re in this together. Just hurry!"

  From the backseat Chelsea leaned forward. “Yeah, just hurry Mason Macaraboni. I’ve still got to pee.”

  Mace couldn’t help but smile as he headed to the other vehicles to relay the plan, and then began laughing wholeheartedly as he ran. He loved that kid.

  As their companions’ vehicles drove away, Shawn unhooked the flange that closed the gas line and threw it to the side. He then opened the valve that released the gas and within a few seconds gas was pouring all over the pavement outside the Temple grounds. Sweat was dripping from his forehead as he climbed back inside the truck, despite the coolness in the air. He could see Mace waving him on as he drove the truck through the fence and through a few trees, before maneuvering it across the lawn, headed towards the doors of the Tabernacle. He stopped a few feet from Mace and Mace ran around to the driver’s side door, holding the arrow case.

  “Once you get going, plant th
is so it wedges the gas pedal down, then get the hell out of there. We’ll be waiting at the truck.”

  Shawn nodded and took the case. "You got it." The gas truck started moving towards the front doors, which moved back and forth in a small wave, pushing against the taped doors as if an ocean of water would come barreling out if the floodgates were opened. He grabbed the arrow case and tried to jam it against the gas pedal. He felt close to panic as the front doors grew closer and it wasn't secured. He finally got it wedged in as the doors flung open and a mass of infected spilled out, shrieking in outrage at the invasion of their sanctuary. Shawn opened the driver side door and jumped out, hitting the ground and rolling as the gas truck barreled into the infected before crashing through the opening to the Tabernacle.

  From behind him he could hear Jim yelling “C’mon!” He caught up with him and they raced through the grounds, catching a glimpse of Mace standing at the edge of the gas trail, waving them on as he held up a lighter.

  Mike was already backing out of their spot, preparing to bolt back towards the freeway. Once Jim and Shawn were in the truck, Mace opened up the lighter and flicked it on, tossing it into the gas puddle and running towards the truck as it wooshed up in a big flash of blue flame. Mace dove in the back of the truck as the trail of gas became engulfed in flames, and they were almost two blocks away by the time the explosion came. It sounded like an atomic bomb going off, and Mike hit the gas harder as the ground shook from the explosion.

  By the time they caught up with the caravan the sky was lit up in a hew of bright orange as flames leapt from the Tabernacle and the gas burned ferociously.

  They stood outside their vehicles, marveling at the sight as another explosion ripped through the Tabernacle, sending flames shooting fifty feet into the air. Yvette held onto Jim, and to the young lovers the spectacle seemed almost romantic. It had become a crazy world. You had to find romance wherever you could.