One hundred and twenty of the newest guests of the Institution filled the auditorium. Almost half were trainees, and just beginning to learn from the new crew bosses, and other skilled workers, who had transferred from the surrounding counties. Andy figured it would be six months before normal operations would return.
“It’s already a quarter past. Are you sure Joshua’s coming tonight?” Byron had come to Andy’s side after making sure everyone was seated properly.
“As far as I know, that pecker head ain’t called in and said any different.”
Byron chuckled. “Andy, you’re the warden now. You should watch your language. Especially around the guests. You know how they’ll repeat things.”
“I guess yer right. As far as I know, that pecker head has not called in and said any different.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
Andy giggled. “I know, but wouldn’t it be funny if the guys called him Reverend Pecker Head?”
“You’re not ever going to change, are you?”
“Nope, I guess not. My mom always said I had a little mind of my own.” Andy looked around the room. “Well, I guess I’ll go round up the guards off their break and herd all the cattle back to the pens.”
“I don’t know. Uh, why don’t you let me read a few scriptures, and give a little testimony? I feel that the Lord has put something in my heart that’s just waiting to bust out,” Byron said.
Andy rubbed the prickly stubble on his chin. “I don’t guess it could hurt none. I’ve been noticing how this new bunch has taken a liking to you. Heck, they listen to you better than most of the new crew chiefs. There’s something special about you. I just hope we don’t have to cut you open to figure out what it is.”
“Andy!”
“I’m just kidding—you know me.”
Byron chuckled nervously. “Go ahead and leave. Come back in a half hour or so with the guards, and you can roll the guests out after I fill them with the spirit.”
“Okay, yer on. See if God can put some more brains in them noggins, we’s falling behind.” Andy gave Byron a wink, poked out his chest, and walked with the mechanical dignity expected from a man in his position.
Pale faces in the audience turned and followed Byron’s journey as he advanced up the stairs onto the stage and behind the podium.
A warm feeling of peace wrapped around Byron and began to electrify him from his feet to the top of his head. It projected from his countenance, spilled over to the front row, and flooded down the aisles. The Non-Dead began to fidget in their seats.
The red letters of the open Bible on the podium pulled Byron’s focus and compelled him to flip the pages to a verse planted in his mind. His finger followed down the edge of the page and came to a stop. Looking up from the scriptures, he began to read:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord.”
The power swelled inside Byron. He lifted the Bible and felt as though he floated across the stage, down the steps, and in front of his congregation.
As if on command all the Sub Zs rose in unison.
Byron pulled out of his shoes and unzipped his jumpsuit, naked except for his socks.
“This is my body, this is my blood. Take, eat of it, drink all of it. For the eradication of sins committed . . . against you.” The Bible fell to the floor. The brethren shuffled toward him.
Byron offered his right forearm.
Gently, almost sensually, the first Sub Z opened his mouth and bit off a small piece, letting the blood trickle into his mouth. He moved over, and one by one the others took a turn.
Each bite brought release from the power surging through his body. Ecstasy forced an uncontrollable smile, and tears of sheer joy rolled down his cheeks. His spirit expanded to the edges of the universe and mingled with quasars, galaxies, and deepest void.
Flesh had disappeared from his arms and chest. His legs grew weak, and he dropped to the floor. Byron didn’t know, nor did he care. He existed outside of time and space, becoming all-in-all.
Andy and four guards on the night shift were in the break room. A mostly eaten bag of tortilla chips and two pieces of a sheet cake someone had brought from home lay in the middle of the table.
“Well, I guess we ought to head on over and put the critters in the stable,” Andy said, after finishing his second cup of coffee.
“What the? What’s going on in the hall?” Mendoza, one of the guards, said, quickly jumping to his feet.
Chairs scraped against the floor as the men bumped into each other trying to get to the disturbance.
“What’s going on?” Andy called from the rear.
“Looks like ten of so of ’em are heading to the shower,” Mendoza called back.
“Go round them up. We’ll go to the auditorium and find out what the hell’s going on,” Andy yelled back. “Dang it, Tooty, I thought you had a handle on them,” he said only loud enough for himself to hear.
Four pairs of shoes slapped the empty hallway as the men trotted to the double doors of the auditorium.
Once inside, a mass of Sub Zs crowded the area downstage in front of the podium.
“Tooty? Where the hell are you, boy? Tooty?” Andy yelled. “Guys, go break up the crowd, and get them back in their rooms. Find out what happened to Tooty.”
The Sub Zs turned and faced the approaching guards, parting to form a path leading to Byron.
“Oh my stars . . . .” Andy’s mouth went wide.
Byron laid on the carpet with blood painting the outline of his body. His face contorted in eerie bliss, his eyes wide open. Every piece of flesh below his neck had been stripped from the bones.
One of the guards puked, another gagged, and turned his head.
Andy slowly stepped toward his friend and bent down to his side. Byron’s heart and internal organs remained intact inside his chest cavity.
“Aw, Tooty . . . It’s my fault . . . I should have never trusted these goobers after what happened last week. But don’t you worry . . .” Andy reached down and closed Byron’s eyelids. “Don’t you worry . . .” Andy felt the rage percolate around his neck, flushing his face red. “I’m going to take care of each one of them . . . personally.”
Two of the Non-Dead stepped up, each carrying mop buckets.
“Hey! Let me go, damn it!” Mendoza called just outside the doors.
Andy turned and saw the two Non-Dead step past him and drench Byron with liquid ATP.
“What the hell? Get these guys out of here!” Andy called.
Two more Non-Dead approached and doused Byron once again.
As the next Non-Dead walked past, one of the guards caught him with a rap on the shin. He fell to the floor.
Andy turned and reached over to the foot of the podium on the stage, and pulled off the yellow satin sheet covering it. He grabbed the corners apart and went to lay it across the dead body.
Byron’s heart started to beat, slowly at first—then picked up in rhythm. A translucent film began growing over the bones. Fine hair-like structures rose and weaved with each other. The alien virus had begun rebuilding its host.
Chapter 36
Rick Poundstone and Lisa Goudard sat in a brightly lit booth at 100 Flavors Creamery. Rick had his elbows on the table. His hands massaged his forehead.
“Don’t rub too hard or you’ll wipe off your makeup,” Lisa said, coming up for air from slurping her chocolate milkshake.
“I’m so tired. These past two months have felt like slow, painful, water torture. I think I know what Bush and Gore went through waiting for the courts to decide who won Florida in two thousand.”
“At least you technically still have your seat in Congress. Spencer disappeared, and the Democratic candidate dropped out of the race. I say that possession is
nine-tenths of the law.”
Rick moved his hands to the table and cocked a smirk Lisa’s way. “Well, there is that nasty little detail that I’m Sub Y now.”
“And a member of the Democratic Party,” Lisa added.
“Like I had a choice. Gray dropped out of the race so I’d win by default. That was a shrewd move by the Democrats. It brought the frontline battle for equal rights down to the South. I would’ve remained a Republican if my party hadn’t abandoned me.”
“Even though you’re a Democrat, you don’t have to carry their water. You can still stand by your conservative principals. You’re their little darling. Take advantage of it. You’ll have much more power and influence with them than with the Republicans. If the Supreme Court upholds the Non-Dead write-in candidate from Delaware, Martin Allen, all this could end quickly.”
“Yeah, but we’re a good six weeks away from that decision. At least Delaware is fast tracking the case. Texas is still sitting on mine, and I don’t know if they’ll abide by the Supreme Court’s decision. The country is starting to divide eerily similar to the slaves-rights issue that led to the Civil War. I’m adrift in the Purgatory Sea without a paddle. I just wish I could go to sleep wake up when all this mess is over.”
Lisa reached out and took his hand, holding it tightly. “No matter what, you’ll still have me. Isn’t that enough?”
Rick smiled. “Yes, but you know what I mean. These past few months have been hard to cope with. First, Byron went missing, then he became Sub Z and ruined your life. That was tragic. Next, Spencer entered the race and my reelection tanked. Things didn’t start moving back up until we finally met. Byron’s condition mysteriously started to improve—I still don’t know what to think about that. Just when I was ready to give the campaign one last burst of energy I get infected. A ride to the hospital saves my life with the Y treatment. Spencer disappears from the face of the Earth so the authorities can’t investigate his involvement with my attack. Reverend Hatfield disappears the same day. Byron, Warden Andy Wells, and over a hundred Sub Zs at the Institution disappear that night. My opponent defaults two weeks later. I win the election but I’m not eligible, blah, blah, blah.” Rick stared at the table for several long moments, and then looked back at Lisa. “Okay, no more whining. Didn’t you say earlier you wanted to talk about something?”
Lisa took a deep breath and held up the empty milkshake glass, motioning to the waitress to bring her another. “I just got some news I need to tell you, but I don’t know how.”
“News? Oookaaay. I hope this isn’t a Dear John speech.”
“No, silly. I’m being serious. Just give me a minute.” Lisa scratched in her purse until she came up with a compact. She primped in the mirror until the milkshake arrived. “It’s complicated. I’m not sure where to start.”
“I’ve found the best way to handle sensitive matters is to go ahead and let it all come out. It saves a lot of time and confusion in the long run. Try to stick with basic details.”
Lisa thought a moment, and said, “What do you think happened to Spencer?”
“I don’t know. He had a good lead in the race before my infection. He was certain to win after I became Sub Y. Why go through all that just to disappear? The police, the FBI, came up with nothing. No car, no body, no nothing. It’s like aliens abducted him off the face of the planet.”
“What do you think happened to Hatfield?”
“Him too. How is it two powerful men like them can just vanish? Will wasn’t perfect, but he was an old friend. I still cared about him despite his support for Spencer. I hope that doesn’t upset you. I know how you feel about him.”
Lisa’s eyes narrowed, crinkling the skin on her brow. “That man was the vilest piece of walking shit that ever took a breath on Earth. I hope the Devil has a skewer shoved up his ass and through his mouth and is roasting him over a hot fire for all eternity.”
“Honey, I know the way he felt about the Non-Dead was wrong, but please. He’s done so much good. He lost his wife and son during The Dark Times. That had to affect his outlook on life.”
Lisa broke from her memories and took another swallow of milkshake. “He did have one redeeming quality.”
“Really? What was that?”
“He was . . .” Lisa pulled the straw from the milkshake and dragged it across her tongue, “delicious.” She put the straw back in the shake and sucked up another mouthful, her gaze drifted to the ceiling.
“Delicious? What in the hell are you talking about?” Rick said as he popped his head up and quickly looked around the room.
Lisa poked a the milkshake with her straw and then leaned forward. “Hatfield attacked me in my apartment. He paralyzed me with an injection. I was awake, but I couldn’t fight him. He raped me, Rick. Your beloved pastor raped me. The sick bastard passed out after coming. The drug wore off me just before he woke up. I killed him. I killed him and ate him to get rid of the evidence.” Lisa eyes widened as a slightly less than sane grin curled her lips.
“You’re not funny. Stop making crap up and get serious,” Rick said, lowering his voice to a whisper.
“I’m not making any of this up. It happened the same day, around the same time you were infected at the rally. That slime bucket was waiting for me in my apartment. I got a text message from your phone to meet me there. He must have compromised your phone account somehow.
“Hatfield said some things that day I couldn’t make sense of, but I don’t think you knew this man like you think you did. There was a darkness in him that still rattles my soul when I think about it.” Lisa closed her eyes to push back the memory of Hatfield’s demonic face heaving hot foul breath and bits of spittle in her face. She wanted so badly to scratch his eyes out of his head and dig her nails into his brain. But she was powerless. Never had she felt that depth of hopelessness. It ripped into the fabric of her soul and humiliated her to the point where all she wanted to do was die and never face the thought of it again.
“Hatfield sent you a message from my phone account and showed up to rape you?”
Lisa broke from her trance. “And kill me, saying he was going to cut off my head afterward. He didn’t have the opportunity. He fainted cold after he ejaculated.
“He said the drug wasn’t supposed to allow me to speak, only to keep me conscious. It didn’t work like he planned. I think my body recovered from the effects much faster than he expected.
“You can’t begin to imagine the hatred I felt as he lay on top, grunting like a pig. I thought I was going to burst a blood vessel in my head. Then I noticed my body started to tingle slightly, almost like hitting a funny bone kind of numb pain. I finally gained enough control that I squirmed my way from underneath.
“He was lying on his back, naked, and I was leaning on my elbow by his side when I felt all of my strength return. He was lost in dreamland, unaware of the unspeakable horror he had subjected me to.
“I didn’t know what to do. I was about to get up and call you when his eyes started to flutter. That’s when things become surreal.” Lisa stopped again, searching for the right words.
“His eyes popped open, and something deep inside me unleashed like a caged animal. It seemed to happen in slow motion at warp speed. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but that’s the way I remember it.
“I started gnawing off his lips and nose, swallowing as fast as I could fill my mouth. He screamed and tried to fight, but I was stronger. I ate a chunk out of his throat so he couldn’t scream anymore. He raised a hand. I bit the fingers off. He tried to stand. I gouged out chunks of meat from his leg and crippled him. Blood dripped from my lips. All I wanted to do was laugh at his anguish. I held him down and chewed his breasts off as he kicked and bucked in pain.
“I’m not sure when he lost consciousness, and I’m not sure when he died. I didn’t stop at his flesh. I ate his heart, his kidneys, and his liver, and I didn’t stop there. Every scrap of bowel and viscera, any disgusting vile smelling refuse his body had to offer w
as the sweetest, most delightful morsel I had ever eaten.
“You may think it impossible I could eat every living part of that man, but I did. It turned into intoxicating energy, giving me incredible power, and a rush of euphoria that sent my mind soaring into another dimension.
“When I had finished all that remained were the bones and the mess. I didn’t regret what I did then, and I certainly don’t regret having done it now.” Lisa took a deep breath and sucked in another mouthful of shake.
Rick’s face remained frozen for the whole story, as if his mind fought against accepting the truth. “Lisa . . . how . . . why . . . how could you?”
“Search deep inside, Rick. Drop all of your rationale and all the barriers you have built since you were infected. You will find what I am. It’s what you are. You don’t realize it, but you’ve been salivating the whole time I described my feeding.”
Rick snapped to and ran his fingers under his chin. He used a napkin to wipe his face clean and the puddle of drool off the table.
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Lisa said. “I’m pregnant.”
“Pregnant? You can’t get pregnant!” Rick said in a louder whisper as he leaned toward her.
“The doctor confirmed it over a week ago. It’s twins.”
“Twins?”
“Twins. The tests came back today, and you’re not the father.”
“Lisa, stop! All of this information is too much to process all at once.”
“Hatfield said he’d been treated with a new strain of virus called Resurrection X. He said it made him immortal. He impregnated me. One of the children shares my DNA. The other is not genetically related to me. I don’t know what any of this means, but there you go. You know as much as I do.”
Rick abruptly rose from the booth and lifted his arms. “You’re making this up.”
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