Two of the Sisters went to the doors, one to each of the pearl handles and paused awaiting orders. “Wait!” Sarah screamed. “Please...m-my Lord Abraham. I need to confess.” She had nothing to confess, but she was so afraid of going into the Exorcism chamber that she was willing to make something up.
His near-perpetual smile widened. He shooed the Sisters back and asked, “You’d like to confess? About your friends? The ones on the outside or the ones on the inside?”
Sarah’s mouth came open as she tried to fathom what he was talking about. Friends on the outside she could understand, Neil and Sadie, but who could possibly be her friend in New Eden? Her confusion and fear mixed, addling her mind even further. She could only reply, “Huh?”
“Who are you working with?” Abraham asked, coming close. “I sent a team out today to collect Sadie and the Russian from that house, but the two of them just happened to slip away right before my men got there. They say the coals in the fireplace were still hot. That’s a pretty big coincidence, them just leaving like that, don’t you think?”
Though he still smiled in his smarmy way, Sarah saw that it wasn’t quite so natural as usual. There was a tension to it as though at any moment it would snap into a scowl.
Sarah had no answer to his question; she started to shake her head and that was all it took for the smile to disappear. “Who are you working with!” he demanded, his spittle making her blink. “Look at me! Who told them we were coming? Who? Chastity? Shondra? Are you and Shondra playing some sort of two-faced game?”
“No, I haven’t seen Shondra in a month.” It had been all of ten seconds since she had decided to make “something up” but in her fear that was forgotten and all she wanted to do was please this evil man in the hope he would see her honesty and let her go.
“Then who is it and what are you up to?” He came closer so that his angry, hot breath was right in her face. “Remember how I said I could make your passing easier? Well I can also make it a thousand times worse. I control the heat and the smoke. I can slow roast you if I wish. I can keep you alive for an hour as your skin blisters and then peels away like a rotten banana.”
“Please, please don’t do that.” She tried to think beyond the image he had stuck in her mind, but nothing beyond begging occurred to her. “Please don’t, please.”
“I won’t,” he said, his smile returning. It was the oily smile of a used-car salesman making promises he wouldn’t keep. “All you have to do is tell me who’s in it with you. And don’t try to tell me there’s no plan. You let it slip, my dear. Remember, you warned me about what happens to religious leaders. You were a little more certain of yourself then.”
“I-I don’t know. Really, there isn’t...”
“Liar!” he hissed. The smile vanished again and now the tension in his face had gone over to hysteria. “It’s Chastity, isn’t it? She had access to me, and she tried to get you assigned to the pharmacy...probably so you could poison me or drug me.” He started pacing, mumbling to himself, his paranoia growing. Sarah saw it in his eyes, blooming dangerously and she tried to shrink down to something insignificant to keep from being its target.
“Was it her? It had to be. The only question is how did she get a radio? Sisters can’t leave New Eden...” he paused wetting his lips with a pale tongue. “...She’s working with one of the Brothers. Now I see. Is it Mark? Or Jim?” He had pressed in close once more and they were practically nose to nose.
“No. I don’t know what’s going on,” Sarah said desperately. “I came for Eve.”
“That’s just your excuse,” he sneered. “You aren’t even her real mother. Eve is the excuse you’re using to distract me from the real issue. Last month it was Lenny and now, Chastity and who else?” He turned away from Sarah and snapped his long fingers. The sound summoned one of the Sisters. She rushed forward and dropped to one knee.
“Yes, my Lord?”
Gently, he raised her up by her arm and the two began walking back to where the other Sisters were kneeling. “Kelly, let’s have the front row cordoned off again. I’ll want to see Chastity, Mark, and Shondra, of course...” His voice trailed away with the distance. Sarah could only stand in the corner where the doors met the wall and hope they would forget about her.
Kelly and two of the other Sisters sprinted away at top speed and Abraham came back slowly with a thoughtful expression. “Your plan is doomed. And you know what? I think it’s actually better you didn’t rat out your friends earlier. Now I get to see the reaction on their traitorous faces when you confess in front of all of New Eden.”
After a short while in which Sarah only stood staring at the floor and feeling her soul shrivel, the Sisters returned to say that the traitors had been rounded up. Abraham laughed in his booming way, however his smile was tight at the corners and the worry in his eyes never left.
“Time for the purification,” he announced. “Time for you, Sarah, to sacrifice your body for the sake of your soul.”
Sister Kelly raised her small hand and knocked loudly three times on the double doors. There was a pause and then a Sister went to each of the pearl handles and flung the doors wide. Sarah cringed, expecting her senses to be assaulted by chants or screams of religious passion, but the room and the nine hundred souls in it were utterly silent.
It was so quiet that Sarah could hear the scritch of pen on paper when one of the Sisters, down the next aisle, scribbled something on her clipboard. The only other sound was the soft tread of the ceremonial guard, its prisoner and her executioner.
She was marched to the strange pyramid; up close she saw that it was composed of hand-carved, white granite slabs. She was forced to take extra tall steps to get up its steep side. Two Sisters kept her moving, each with a vice-like grip on her arms.
At the top, they removed her handcuffs and tore off her robe, leaving her shivering in fright wearing nothing but her bra and panties, and on her feet, leather sandals. Her hands were then bound once more, this time in a set of shackles. These were one size-fits-all and rattled loosely on her wrists when she gave them a shake. Between the iron bands on her wrists was a three foot length of chain that went through a wide-mouthed ring set on a waist-high pole. The pole was welded in the center of a fire-blackened grate and below that was a stack of wood.
The smell of kerosene wafted up from the wood, making Sarah dizzier than she had already been. She had to hold onto the short pole to stay upright. At first she hung her head, however the closeness of the wood made her want to retch—it was right there, inches below her feet. She knew the fire would eat her up...
“Oh, dear Lord,” she whispered and looked up at the ceiling, thinking there, at least, she would get a respite from the images assaulting her, however the ceiling was worse. It was black as hell, scorched and smoke-bit. Embedded in the charring were flecks of grey ash and what looked like bits of blackened leaves hanging and curled.
That’s skin.
Her mind reeled. She forced her eyes to the people, searching for Neil. He had to be there somewhere. He had to save her. The faces, all of which were blurred by hate, were unrecognizable. Only the ones right below her were familiar: Chastity, Shondra, Mark, and the hillbilly-looking fellow who had twice let Sarah into New Eden. Next to them were the four members of the hospital staff as well as Sarah’s roommates, Dinah and the two women she had dubbed the “robot twins.”
All of them, with the exception of the mindless, drone-like robot twins, looked to be on the verge of shitting themselves. They had good reason to be afraid. One word from Sarah would mean their own horrible deaths.
Abraham had come to the top of the pyramid and now the two of them were alone. “Which of them are in cahoots with you?” he asked so that only she could hear.
His voice sent her into a panic. Uselessly she pulled back on her chain, finding that she was excruciatingly close to being able to pull herself free. Her hands were just a fraction of an inch too big to slip out of the shackles. She then yanked back and forth
on the chain, again, in vain. If she pulled her right hand back it only sent her left hand forward to the post and vice-versa.
When she pulled back with both arms and grunted under the strain of trying to break an expertly set weld, Abraham scoffed: “There is only one way you’re getting out of here: they’ll scoop your remains up in a Hefty bag. But you can make it quick. Who is it? You can tell me now or tell me after your toes are burned down to the nubs.”
Her terror-filled brain was barely operable at this point, yet she knew one thing with certitude: Abraham was going to make it slow no matter what she said. He’d had done this enough times to know that she would eventually turn over every one of the people in the little cordoned area—guilty or not. In her agony, she would cry out every name she knew and Abraham, possessed by his paranoia would believe each one to be his enemy.
Instead of answering, Sarah gave up. There would be no escape, no rescue, no redemption. She would die horribly and she would die alone.
Abraham said something to her, but she didn’t hear. He pouted for a moment, like a petulant child, and then began his sermon. It was long-winded and self-aggrandizing. He laid blame everywhere for what was about to happen and took none for himself. He made demands of his Believers, saying they lacked faith and that because of this treason they would have to work harder to earn his faith, and thus God’s as well.
It seemed, simultaneously to go on a long time and at the same time pass by in a blink. With a shout to the ceiling Abraham announced God’s punishment for sin and lit the fire. It was not slow to catch. The kerosene jacked the flames which reached up through the grating and seared her legs and ankles.
“Oh God!” she cried and leapt back. Her feet were free; she could move them however she wished, but only to the extent the short chain, stretching through the loop, would allow; it wasn’t much. She danced in place, each step more painful than the last, while her face sweated gleaming, liquid diamonds that seemed to shoot light. She could see that light reflected in Abraham’s evil eyes. He smirked and she cried out.
Very quickly, the pain became too much and she pulled her feet off the grate and hung from her wrists, her body extended over the flames.
She screamed into the fire and the fire crowded higher. Sarah felt her lips crack and heard the hiss as her sweat and tears hit the grating. In seconds, she was unable to bear the heat baking upward and her body reacted on its own to the agony. With her feet still in misery she was left with only one choice: she spun in place so that she hung by her wrists, the heels of her blackened sandals resting on the granite, her face to the ceiling.
It took no more than a few moments before the skin on her back formed blisters. They were like large, wet soap bubbles that popped as she writhed.
To her ears it sounded like the whole world was screaming, that every one of the nine hundred Believers were shrieking right along with Sarah. But it was just her. The Believers knelt in silence, learning the lesson to never, ever, misbehave, not even in the slightest manner. Sarah was sure she cried out for help, but not a person budged.
Only she moved, going round and round like a pig at a luau. Just as Abraham had told her, she was being slowly roasted alive.
He squatted down next to her, his face aglow from the fire and filled with a happy cruelty. “Are you ready to confess your nasty sins?”
Chapter 39
Neil
New Eden, Georgia
As the evening was particularly pleasant, Neil’s profuse sweating was due solely to a case of stage fright. Under a slap of make-up and wearing only rags, he was performing a one-man show that he called: I’m a zombie, too. Please don’t eat me! His audience consisted of about three thousand walking corpses who wanted nothing more than to eat the lips from his still screaming mouth.
Thankfully, the first part of Jillybean’s insane plan was nearly over with. In the light of day, with only a stray zombie or two walking about, the plan had seemed reasonable. Now, his hands trembled as he went for the last strobe he needed. They came with little metal hoods that allowed the strobes to act like the lights on an airstrip, pointing the zombies to go in a certain direction. Once he got this one, he would then replant each of them so they pointed directly at the silo they planned to attack. A mile away, Grey was doing the same thing at what they were referring to as the “decoy silo.”
The five silos were arranged around the valley in such a way that from the air they resembled a smiley face—the two northern silos, the decoy and the one they planned to attack were the “eyes” while the other three to the south made up the smile. Each of these latter had been assigned an observer; Nico was furthest southwest, while Sadie, who could react the quickest in either direction, was in the middle and Jillybean was the closest to the attack silo. Save for a couple of axes these three were unarmed. Their job was to watch for Sarah and Eve.
It was expected that some, if not all of the Believers would try to flee from the silos and that Sarah would try to hide within their numbers.
Neil was sure it would be chaos.
“Oh damn,” he whispered as the strobe he had been approaching flashed in his face. None of the zombies took note of the little noise. They were too busy stumbling toward the light—seconds later, and a hundred yards further on, another strobe flashed in the dark—the zombies turned their attention to it while Neil tugged up the closer one.
“Finally,” he said, stowing the strobe away in his backpack.
One of the zombies must have heard the word and turned, reminding Neil he wasn’t out of the woods yet.
“Uuagh,” Neil moaned and then made a weird limpy step as though one of his legs was longer than the other while at the same time he leaned his head all the way over so that his ear rested on his shoulder.
The zombie came close and stared for a moment and then, satisfied as to Neil’s undead authenticity, it turned away, losing itself in the night. Neil felt the need to congratulate himself on his acting ability. He wanted to brag into the radio but after his close call he went to work resetting the strobes instead. To save time he turned them on after he planted each. When he was ready to set the last he saw a flaw in his thinking.
Five strobes were pointing thousands of zombies directly at the attack silo, which was exactly where he was standing. How was he going to plant the strobe, a very human activity, under so many watchful eyes? He hesitated in fear for so long that he became surrounded by the milling beasts, one of whom took particular attention in him.
“What are you waiting for?” it growled, nearly making Neil shriek. It was Captain Grey, looking like a hulking and very realistic zombie, except for the eyes, these were far too intelligent and driven.
“I’m doing it,” Neil whispered.
With a deep breath, Neil jug-walked in a circle, keeping his chin down and his eyes up, spying to see who or what was focused on him. The zombies were mindlessly milling about and the silo was a brooding dark totem, silent and grim. Someone could be staring right down at him for all he knew, but there was nothing he could do it except plant the strobe.
Quickly he dropped to one knee and, very much by accident, his thumb hit the “on” switch and it flashed right into his face, illuminating him for a fraction of a second for all the world to see.
Blindly he stuck the light in the ground and by feel he aimed it in the right direction, and then he was up again, walking into things and tripping over divots and chuck holes, feeling more like a real zombie than ever before.
A blurred outline of another zombie came up and snorted, “Nice move.” It was Grey again and as Neil couldn’t tell if other zombies were close by he didn’t retort, though he did shove the big man—with little discernible effect.
Gradually over the next few minutes, Neil’s eyesight returned. He saw that the evening had turned into an early, clear night; above, the Milky Way sprawled across the sky in an unwinding scroll of light. Closer, the horizon was a dark, uneven outline that seemed to be moving and moaning nearer.
&nbs
p; Neil went looking for Grey and found him loitering near the silo along with more zombies than Neil could count. Grey was impatient and man-handled the smaller man into position ten feet to the side of the doors, he then lurched back and, without the least subtlety, pulled a stretch of duct tape across a hand grenade and slapped it right above the lock on the silo door. He then stumbled away, losing himself in the mass of zombies, leaving Neil to wonder if he had pulled the pin on the grenade.
KABLAM!
The explosion sent metal and black zombie blood everywhere, Neil blinked from the light and the sound and the spray, and almost forgot he had a job to do. He was supposed to make sure the doors stayed open so that the flow of zombies into the silo wouldn’t stop.
With his ears ringing, Neil searched around on the ground until he found a scabby arm that had been blown off by the explosion. He wedged it under the door. Just as he stood the first shots were fired inside the silo. Neil stifled a grin. So far, the plan was going perfectly. The guards were firing out of panic or lack of discipline, and as both Captain Grey and Jillybean had predicted it wouldn’t last. After a couple of minutes, the firing tapered off as their ammo began to get low and the number of zombies seemed endless.
Grey forced his way into the silo. Neil recognized him by his size and by the long hump on his back where he had his M4 strapped beneath his rags. Across Neil’s own back was the 12 gauge, pump action shot gun that had taken him an hour to saw down to size. He itched to unstrap it and carry it like a real man. Without it he felt vulnerable and way too soft.
Grey didn’t seem fazed by the fact that he was in a mob of zombies empty handed. He moaned and groaned, and elbowed his way to the banked set of doors that led down into New Eden itself. The man went to one knee and when he stood back up, Neil knew enough to cover his own ears.
Seconds later there was another great boom and again there was blood flying. The zombies surged toward the sound, a river of diseased flesh and Neil was borne along like a piece of driftwood. Above him on a platform, the guards made a desperate attempt to stop the zombies from invading the lower halls by firing as fast as they could, however they didn’t have enough men, nor enough ammunition and the stinking mass of undead went on, unchecked.
The Apocalyse Outcasts Page 36