“Grief is a luxury for a more settled time,” he said. “Comes a point where you've seen so much death that grief just becomes redundant. A useless thing that gets in the way of living productively. How productive have you been today, Karina?”
Karina finally turned away from the movie and looked at Raimond with a dropped jaw.
“You're a fucking asshole. Darnell just died, and you want to come here saying that shit to me. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“And how many others died today? Can you tell me the number?”
Karina's face went blank as Raimond continued.
“65 including Darnell, I heard. That's not even counting the injured who still might not see tomorrow. I don't see their favourite movies up on that screen. Maybe they're just not special enough for a tribute from Karina Katana.”
“Keep talking like that, and I'm going to beat your fucking ass.”
The people sitting around Karina and Raimond had suddenly lost interest in the movie and were moving away from the confrontation. Raimond took another long drink from his bottle of bourbon as he thought carefully on what he was about to say next.
“Did you fuck him? Is that why you're so upset and useless?”
Karina snatched the bottle from Raimond and busted it over his head. Blood poured from his bald scalp as he fell to the floor amongst the shards of glass. Karina towered over him with her fists raised and her silhouette cast up on the screen through the projector light, but Raimond just laughed as he got back to his feet.
“Looks like you're not so useless after all. Are you angry?”
“Of course I’m fucking angry.”
“Good. Use it. It’s what will get you through the pain. Take what you feel inside and make those bastards feel it on the outside. Getting even is probably the only satisfaction you’re going to get.”
“I'm out of here,” said Karina as her feet crunched on the broken glass.
“Did I ever tell you how my son died?” said Raimond. Karina stopped with her back to him as he continued. “He went to church for answers, and they poisoned him with the wine while he took holy communion. A police officer came to my door and told me that it was all part of God's plan. I beat that man to death with my bare hands, and then I went and found that priest, and I did the same to him. It felt good. It feels just as good every time I kill one of those self-righteous motherfuckers. It will feel good for you too.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Remy is talking to that piece of shit Tom Barnes right now while you sit here and blubber. Go over there and stop being such a useless bitch.”
Karina tightened her jaw and clenched her fists tight. Raimond braced himself for a blow that never came. Instead, Karina turned around and stormed out of the Mister Sister.
“You're a damn fool,” said Princess as she handed Raimond some tissues for the blood on his head.
“Maybe, but she ain't crying no more.”
Remy carried a fully lit candelabra into the dark cell room that housed Governor Tom Barnes. The Governor recoiled away from the light and retreated to the edge of his cell. He had been sitting in absolute darkness for a good number of hours. Remy set the candelabra down on the floor and pulled up a chair in front of Tom's cell. He sat in the middle of the dull illumination from the candles and cast a long shadow out ahead of him. Zombi slithered along the length of his broad shoulders, assessing the man behind the bars with his serpentine eyes.
“Hello, Tom. Are the accommodations to your liking?”
Tom got to his feet and approached the bars. Swamp life had not treated him well, nor had Karina's fists. He was a dishevelled mess with an unkempt beard and heavy bags beneath his eyes. The right sleeve of his suit jacket had torn away at the shoulder, and the shirt sleeve underneath had been muddied up with a dry and flaky crust. The damage to his face was a mountain range of swelling with dried up rivers of blood. Fortunately, there were no more publicity photos in Tom Barnes’ future. His campaigning was finally at an end.
“You will call me Governor,” he said with a snarl, his hands gripping tight to the bars.
“Not my Governor. I voted for the other guy.”
“Harold Scott?” Tom audibly scoffed. “He never had a chance. Bleeding heart liberals have no place here. Might as well have pissed on your vote for all the good it did.”
“Why do you still call yourself Governor?”
“I am the Governor because the people of Louisiana voted me so, and last I checked, there hasn't been an election since.”
“Things have changed, Tom. You should know because you helped to change them. Consider yourself impeached for crimes against the very same people that voted you into office. You have no mandate here.”
Tom Barnes laughed.
“You think my mandate comes from the people? They have never known what’s good for them. They always have to be led to the right choices by saner minds.”
“There’s nothing sane about you and the things you’ve done.”
“Oh no?” said Tom with a raise of his eyebrow. “Let’s play a game of who’s crazy and who’s not, shall we? Heaven itself opens up and gives you instruction, yet you ignore it. More than ignore it, you deny it. We are literally living in an age of miracles and wonders. Miracles that you can see with your own eyes. I’m talking actual miracles, not just words on a page, but miracles happening right now in front of you. But that’s not good enough for the great Remy Laveau, is it? You have to question and challenge it, fight against it with everything that you have. You are like a blind man who has been given sight but chooses not to see. You and all these people in your charge dare to say no to your creator and all that he represents. It boggles the mind really. You actually think yourself so large that you’ve all deluded yourselves into thinking that you can go toe to toe with God Himself. And you call me the crazy one.”
Tom tittered to himself and wagged his finger at Remy admonishingly.
“There is no stopping what’s about to come. It’s already here. Who do you think you are to resist it? You’re not special. You’re a leader by circumstance only. You could have been anyone. Satan is not picky about who he lets do his dirty work. Trust me when I say, you are not ready for the test that is coming for you. The only place you are going to lead these people is a fiery pit. You can sit here in judgement of me all you like, but people like you have never understood what it takes to be a man like me. I’ve sinned. Course I have. Politics is selling your soul and dealing with the devil, so the people don’t have to. I’ve sold my soul so many times for noble causes that gained me no thanks or appreciation. I endangered my place in Heaven for these people for years, but in the end, they just weren’t worth it, were they? All of you are beyond saving. There is nothing good waiting for you at the end of all of this. If you can’t be saved, then you might as well be dead and out of the way. That’s what they told me. That is how I have repented, and that is how I have been forgiven. I have punished you all for your collective sin, and through your punishment, I have been born again. I have given myself over to a higher power who has put me on a righteous path. The angels have returned my soul to me, and it is from them that I receive my mandate, not the people. I have the highest mandate of all for I am the Holy Governor.”
Tom spoke with an impassioned fervour, and there was a hot colour in his cheeks as he finished. Remy could see that Tom really believed what he was saying. The angels had been speaking their poison into his ear for two whole years. Two whole years of being told that there was a special place waiting just for him if only he would genocide his own people. Two years of being told it was the right thing to do by creatures straight from his Bible. If he ever had a will of his own, it had long been eradicated. He was now merely a tool that the angels used to cut down all in their path. A sword that had no say in where it was swung. Remy almost felt sorry for him.
“I always did wonder how you could live with yourself after doing what you did, and now I have my answ
er,” said Remy. “You dress up and call yourself Governor, and you tell yourself that you have a purpose in all of this. The men that follow you dress up and call themselves police officers and follow your instruction. It almost seems normal as long as you are still playing your roles and wearing your uniforms. Like you haven’t gone to shit. Just good Christian men doing good Christian things. Even if those things contradict your teachings and your morality.”
“There is no morality without God. Humanity needs His guiding hand to elevate us above mere beasts. If He says it is right, then it is right. That is how I live with it. His will is my will, and I strive to serve Him through my actions and my deeds. I was chosen to be a leader, and sometimes as a leader, you have to do things that other people can’t and be strong where they’re not. I am able to do the things I do because I serve a greater purpose. But what about you? What about your Godless morality? I know that you’ve made some hard decisions as leader of this community. You have killed, and you have sent others to die in the name of your cause. Do you feel the burden of all those lives, or do you feel yourself growing cold and disconnected? Are they even people to you anymore, or just fodder for the cannons? Perhaps you fool yourself into thinking that you care and that you are making a difference, but the people who follow you always end up just as dead while you remain. You took leadership, but you were never ready for what came with it. I wonder if you even recognise yourself in the mirror with all the sin you’ve had to commit to keep this place of yours afloat. All you do is kill your way to tomorrow. I can see the corruption on your soul. What wouldn’t you do for these people, Mr. Laveau? The answer to that question should keep you up at night. It’s the reason you’ll burn.”
Remy was silent. He could feel as if Darnell was in the room with him. It was hard not to think that he had let him down. They had known each other since they were kids, and now Darnell was dead. Remy had led him and all of the others down a path that quite possibly had no return. If Remy was wrong, then they were all wrong for following him, and they would all pay dearly for it when the time came. Would they have been better off if Remy had not assumed leadership almost two years ago? Perhaps Karina was right to slap some sense into him. Perhaps Princess was right to question the warmth of his feelings. Perhaps Beth had it right when she pleaded for an end to the fighting. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for the job. He had become far too detached from those that he cared about, and his detachment often meant that lives got lost along the way. Remy thought all of this in a brief silence but showed none of it to Tom Barnes. He maintained a powerful stage presence in the candle illumination, and put those thoughts away in a box at the back of his mind. He would show no weakness to this man. The only thing worse than a detached leader is a leader that starts to question himself in a time of crisis. He needed to stay strong and see things through, for better or worse. He simply refused to let Tom Barnes think that he had the high ground.
“I may burn, but at least I’m not a coward that stabs people in the back instead of facing them like a man. You weren’t even on the front lines when you sent men to kill us.”
“You haven’t been listening to me. I'm not a coward. I'm chosen.”
Remy moved closer to the bars and looked the former Governor up and down.
“Forgive me for saying, Tom, but the chosen one sure looks like shit. Have you looked in a mirror lately? They've got you killing your own people and living like a rat. Is this how they reward the faithful? I think I like my side of these bars just fine.”
Tom tsked at Remy.
“All of this is a trial that we must endure. A great proving of our faith. I will have my reward when the time comes. Everything else is just a temporary inconvenience. If you're looking for remorse, you won't find any from me. I'd kill you all again if I had the chance.”
“But you didn't kill us, Tom. We're still here. You didn't even break us. If that was your great trial, then you failed. Do you think that the angels would reward a failure such as you?”
Tom's face went pale as he stepped away from the bars.
“I have served them faithfully.”
“But is that enough? They seem like the demanding type to me. Have they even visited you since we locked you up here?”
Tom's silence was all the answer that Remy needed.
“Thought not.”
“They have more pressing concerns. Such as finding someone to carry on my work. It is only a matter of time before you are crushed before the might of the heavenly host.”
“So I keep hearing. Isn't it strange that the great and powerful armies of Heaven are held off by a small group of heathens in Louisiana? Something about that doesn't sound quite right, does it?”
“For once we're in agreement.”
“Why don't the angels fight, Tom? Have you ever asked yourself that question? If they are so powerful, why not strike us down themselves? The Bible is full of examples of God and his angels striking down the wicked.”
“Like Sodom?” Tom said with a smirk.
“Yes, like Sodom,” said Remy in a flat tone.
“Be careful what you wish for. Your day is coming, Laveau. You may have thought it amusing when you called this place New Sodom, but in that name, you have foretold your own doom. You can’t stop Judgement Day.”
“Ah, the famous Judgement Day. Bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, don't you think? Somebody says that the end of the world is coming, and then we are all in a rush to make it happen for them.”
“How could you possibly understand? You're a man without faith, presiding over a community of the faithless. I doubt you even believe that voodoo crap you're trying to hawk. That's okay though. It doesn't matter if you believe. You will believe in time, and by then it will be too late for your immortal soul.”
“I guess I’ll see. Unfortunately, you won't. Your death waits for you and you will not live to see ours.”
Tom joined his hands together in prayer and looked up towards the ceiling.
“I die so that I can be resurrected. My death means nothing and the outcome is already assured. We are all just playing out the parts that fate intended.”
“Then you'll have no problem facing your death like a man when the sun rises. The only question that remains is how we kill you. Should we hang you like in the days of old, or behead you like they used to do in France? Perhaps we should take something out of your Bible and have you stoned to death. Everyone could get in on the act for that one.”
“An execution without trial?” said Tom with mock indignation. “You really are savages.”
Remy laughed.
“You think you deserve a trial?”
“Trial by combat,” came a female voice. Karina Katana walked into the circle of light and walked right up to the bars that divided her from Tom Barnes.
“Karina?” said Remy, confused.
“Give him a trial by combat,” she stated plainly.
Tom Barnes doubled over laughing.
“The young lady needs to stop reading fantasy novels.”
Karina did not share the former Governor’s amusement.
“It's simple really. Fight me to the death. If you win, you'll go free. You won't get a better offer than that.”
“Karina, I don't think...” Remy began.
“I don't care what you think, Remy. This isn't for you.”
Tom's face ached from the wideness of his smile aggravating the swelling that Karina had previously given him.
“I think you've let that encounter in the swamp go to your head, little missy. I am much more dangerous than I look. You just got the drop on me is all.”
“Then you’ll have no problem accepting my challenge.”
Tom’s eyes became shark eyes as he turned the prospect over in his mind.
“If I have to beat a pretty whore to death to gain my freedom then that is what I'll do. I will not squander an opportunity that God has placed before me. He will guide me to my victory over you and your people.”
“T
hen I'll have to kill him too,” she said with her eyes firmly locked onto Tom’s. He grimaced at the blasphemy but quickly regained his composure.
“You've got yourself a fight, girl.”
He extended his arm through the bars to shake on it, but Karina just spat in his face and walked away. Tom smiled and wiped the spit away with his mud-caked sleeve.
“Do you believe in miracles now, Mr. Laveau?”
“No,” said Remy. “I don't. Pretty soon, you won't either.”
THE BOOK OF DANIEL
The Kevlar was just in case. Daniel Blanc was not expecting much resistance initially, but he was a man that liked to prepare for all probabilities. He stood outside the 'Well Women's Centre' with an automatic rifle tucked in at the armpit under his coat. The pro-life campaigners shouted and jeered at anyone who dared approach the building. One lady shoved a picture of a dead baby into Daniel's hand as he passed them by. He merely smiled at the woman and walked into the building with a wooden crucifix dangling from his neck. Perhaps that woman would see the justice in what was about to happen.
He didn't waste any time once he was in reception. The rifle swung out from under his coat and into his eager hands. He cut the approaching security guard in half with a short burst of fire. The security guard fell to the floor with a final expression of shock. The woman behind the desk screamed and tried to make a run for it, but he painted the wall in front of her with the bullets he entered into her back. He marched on to the waiting room, and already women were scrambling for some place to run and hide, but there was nowhere. The earplugs he was wearing helped to muffle the rat-a-tat as he mowed down the mothers and the unborn children they carried in their wombs. They were all martyrs for a higher cause. A message to the world that all life is precious. The recoil of his murder instrument sent vibrations through his body. God's own thunder coursing through his veins. The feeling of that power energised him as he stepped over the bodies with their upturned, dead eyes and moved on to the place where it all happened. The theatre of child murder. He switched to his handguns as he burst into the room. A woman was trying to get off the operating table. Daniel punched a hole through her head, and she fell still. The nurse screamed. The doctor backed up against the far wall.
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