by Hatchett
“Why?”
Mamba’s eyes had swept around the elaborately decorated double height hall with wide, sweeping staircases at either side.
“Tell ya later. We got company,” he said, looking up.
Ahmed followed his gaze and saw two big Enforcers dressed in black on the East landing and quickly looked and saw two more on the West landing. There were no lights on upstairs, so it was quite dark and difficult to make them out clearly in their black clothing, but they didn’t appear to be holding any weapons.
“Are you two coming?” Chrissy called from the far side of the hall.
Mamba and Ahmed hurried to catch up with her but slowed as they saw another Enforcer in black standing next to a set of double doors. They recognised him as one of the guys who had been with Mollie when they were confronted earlier that day.
“This is Adam,” Chrissy introduced the Enforcer.
Adam didn’t nod or smile.
“If you’ve got any weapons, you’ll need to leave them with Adam.”
“Ain’t happenin’,” Mamba said.
“Then you won’t be able to meet the Reverend,” Chrissy replied. “He’s very careful about his protection.”
“Fair enough,” Mamba said, and turned to leave.
Ahmed quickly followed.
“Wait!” Adam commanded.
Mamba stopped and looked back.
“You can keep your knives,” Adam relented, “but no guns and you’ll have an Enforcer on each of you the whole time you’re here.”
“Fair enough,” Mamba agreed, turning and heading back towards them. He and Ahmed handed over their Glock pistols.
Adam turned and opened the double doors behind him which led into a brightly lit drawing room which seemed to be full of people and was loud with conversation. Mamba saw Adam signal two Enforcers and heard him giving them orders to shadow the two guests.
Chrissy led Mamba and Ahmed into the room, the noise quietening down as people stopped to stare in their direction. They parted as Chrissy approached them and after a few paces revealed a small oldish looking man sitting in a large, comfortable-looking leather padded chair in an alcove which would have looked out onto the garden if it hadn’t been dark outside. All that could be seen in the glass windows was a reflection of the room itself and the people standing around in small groups, holding their drinks.
“Ah. Our honoured guests have arrived,” the Reverend intoned as he rose unsteadily to his feet, helped by a couple of what Mamba assumed were Underlings on either side of him.
The Reverend made no attempt to approach Mamba or Ahmed nor shake their hands.
“Thanks, fer the invitation…I think,” Mamba replied, looking closely at the Reverend as if trying to read his mind. He was already regretting that he had accepted the invitation.
The Reverend motioned towards another Underling who quickly stepped forward to offer Mamba and Ahmed a drink off a silver tray.
Mamba blatantly bent forward to sniff the drinks before looking back up.
“Don’t worry, they’re not poisoned,” the Reverend said with a smile. “We can taste them first if you would prefer.”
“I was tryin’ ta work out what they were,” Mamba replied. “Not beer.”
“No, no beer,” the Reverend confirmed. “Beer is not allowed. Alcohol is the Devil’s work. The drinks on the trays are fruit juices, but you could have water if you so desired.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Mamba turned to his Ahmed.
“Ahmed, would ya like a fruit juice?” he asked sarcastically. “No beer, I’m afraid.”
Ahmed stared back with a slight grin on his face. He’d seen Mamba winding people up many times and wondered how long it would take before the Reverend lost patience. Ahmed shook his head.
Mamba turned back to the Reverend.
“Gonna be a borin’ party without a few drinks ta get everyone in the spirit,” he remarked.
“Plenty of fun can be had without alcohol,” the Reverend replied. “If you like, I will show you after the meal.”
“Can’t wait.”
“In that case, I suggest we go sit.”
The Reverend looked to the two female Underlings at his side, who automatically stepped forward and took one of his arms each and began to guide him towards two doors which were being opened on the Eastern side of the room.
Another female Underling indicated that Mamba and Ahmed should follow. Chrissy had disappeared.
The guests parted to allow the Reverend to enter the dining room first, followed by Mamba, Ahmed and the two Enforcers watching their every move, then followed by the rest of the gathering.
16
Day 20 – 19:30
New Eden
The Reverend was led to the head of the table, where he was helped into a large comfortable looking carver chair.
Mamba was shown to a chair on the Reverend’s left, with Ahmed offered the one next to him. Both Enforcers immediately took up positions behind both chairs as the rest of the guests entered the room and found their seats.
“The guests here tonight are my Disciples and their partners,” the Reverend explained.
The Reverend called out the names of the Disciples and each man nodded when his name was called.
Mamba looked around. He noticed for the first time that the Disciples were all wearing black from head to foot and their female partners were in white, giving the room an art deco feel. It was clearly a heterosexual gathering. There also seemed to be more Underlings and Enforcers hanging around the table than guests.
“I guess all yer men like black then?” Mamba pointed out, then pointed to his and Ahmed’s black combat gear, “jus’ like us.”
“Black signifies the submission to the Lord, our God,” the Reverend explained. “Whereas the white clothing worn by the women represents the absence of sin, purity and modesty.”
“Virgins. Yeah, right,” Mamba said sarcastically, “but I ain’t submitting ta any God.”
“You realise that we do not tolerate non-believers in this town,” the Reverend said. “A temporary exception is being made for you tonight, unless we can convince you to change your views.”
“Not much chance of that.”
“Why not? Surely a man with your intellect can see the wisdom in accepting a higher order?”
“If they’re Disciples…” Mamba said, waving his arm around, “don’t that make ya Jesus?”
The Reverend smiled humourlessly.
“It is an appropriate position for the role they carry out.”
“Which is?”
The Reverend avoided answering as yet more Underlings arrived carrying bowls of steaming soup, which they carefully placed in front of each guest. Then a couple more laid serving plates loaded with various types of bread and small pots of butter in the centre of the table.
Mamba and Ahmed looked on keenly, their stomachs growling. They realised that they hadn’t eaten since early morning and were now looking forward to a good meal to fill them up. Whilst soup wasn’t top of their list, at least it would be warm and hopefully tasty.
The room suddenly went quiet and Mamba and Ahmed looked around to see that everyone had closed their eyes and had put the palms of their hands together in prayer.
“For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful,” intoned the Reverend.
“Amen,” came the response from around the table. The guests waited until the Reverend had selected his bread before taking their time in selecting their own.
Mamba and Ahmed grabbed their own bread and a few pots of butter and began tearing the bread apart and slapping on the butter.
Mamba grabbed his spoon and scooped up some soup before slurping the liquid into his mouth. Pumpkin. It tasted OK…if you liked pumpkin, but Mamba wasn’t particularly enamoured with it. He looked around for some salt but there was none around. Nor pepper. So, he grabbed his bread and dunked it in the soup, hoping it might improve the flavour.
&nbs
p; Mamba became aware than the Reverend was watching him carefully. He noticed that the Reverend held his spoon very daintily and pushed it away from his body when scooping up his pumpkin soup and taking small quiet sips. In between mouthfuls of soup, he broke off small pieces of bread and nibbled it like a hamster, then went back to his soup.
Mamba glanced around the table as he dunked another large piece of bread and butter into his soup and saw that a number of the guests were staring at him and Ahmed in fascination. ‘Feeding time at the zoo’ he thought to himself as he selected more bread.
“Nice,” Mamba commented, around a mouthful of bread.
“I’m pleased you like it,” the Reverend replied.
“The soup’s a bit shit, tho’.”
The Reverend closed his eyes for a couple of seconds before slowly reopening them.
“I’ll pass on your feedback to the chef,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “Did you know that Jesus and his Disciples broke bread at the Last Supper? Appropriate don’t you think?”
“Depends on who’s last supper it is,” Mamba replied, spraying bits of bread onto the table.
The Reverend grimaced.
“I’ve been told that you came here to find the underground city,” the Reverend said, hoping to find out exactly what Mamba and his heathens were in New Eden for. “You must be a bit of an adventurer, like Indiana Jones.”
“Yep,” Mamba confirmed, having no idea who Indiana Jones was. “I’m here ta take what the rich bastards have.”
“Taking from the rich to give to the poor. That’s a noble aim,” the Reverend remarked. “A modern-day Robin Hood.”
“What poor?” Mamba asked with a frown, wondering what the Reverend was taking about. He was beginning to think the old man was a bit senile. One minute he was this Indiana Jones character and the next he was Robin Hood. What the fuck? “It ain’t fer no poor people,” he clarified, “the poor are all dead now anyways.”
The Underlings trooped back into the room to remove the bowls and serving plates of bread and butter. Mamba quickly grabbed a couple of bread rolls and stuffed them in his pocket before turning and finding the Reverend looking at him with distaste written all over his face.
“Fer later,” Mamba explained.
The Reverend tried to smile but was having difficulty.
“So, what do you intend to do when you’ve taken what you want?”
“Dunno yet,” Mamba replied, “but there’s some people I gotta go back ‘n kill at Heathrow.”
“Thou shalt not kill,” the Reverend intoned.
“Bit late fer that, Rev,” Mamba replied.
“Oh? So, you’re admitting that you killed one of my men?”
“Nah. I meant others. In the past.”
“But you’re still guilty in the eyes of the Lord.”
“How do you know he’s got eyes?”
“God is everywhere, and he sees everything.”
“Bull.”
“I beg your pardon?” the Reverend said more loudly.
Mamba looked around the table and saw that everyone appeared to be hanging on his and the Reverend’s every word. He spotted a good-looking blond woman towards the end of the table and winked at her before sticking out his tongue and wiggling it around playfully. The woman tried to disguise her smile as she looked away feigning offence while the man sitting next to her glared at Mamba as his face reddened in anger. Mamba smiled mockingly at him and turned back to the Reverend.
“I said ‘bull’,” Mamba reiterated. “The only thing all ‘round is the air.”
The Reverend looked like he’d been slapped, his face also reddening.
Mamba was beginning to enjoy himself, although he got a warning kick under the table from Ahmed.
“So, what did happen to my man?” the Reverend asked.
“How should I know?” Mamba replied. “Maybe he’s run away. Ya wanna keep ya boys under control, Rev.”
They were interrupted again as the Underlings brought more serving trays full of food, which were placed along the centre of the table
Mamba was looking forward to some good hot food and the anticipation on his face was like you would expect to see from a child in a sweetshop…until the serving trays were lowered, and he saw what was on them. With a deepening frown, he checked each of the serving plates along the table, willing there to be some variety. But there wasn’t. There was more and different varieties of bread, biscuits, crackers, cheeses, pate, fruit and dips, but not a piece of meat in sight.
“Something bothering you?” the Reverend asked.
“Nah, it’s all good,” Mamba replied, leaning forward and helping himself to a big lump of cheese and a handful of crackers.
There were a few gasps around the table because Mamba hadn’t waited for the Reverend to select his own food first.
Mamba looked around, not sure what the problem was.
“What?” he asked everyone.
They turned to the Reverend to see how he would react.
The Reverend selected some fruit without saying a word and once he had finished, the rest of the guests joined in.
“So, how’d ya manage ta get a whole town ta do what ya say?” Mamba asked. “Pretty impressive.”
“They understand the power of the Lord,” the Reverend replied. “They are following Him, not me.”
“Then they’re fuckin’ stupid. Sorry, shouldn’t swear! Do ya really cut people’s tongues out?”
“If it’s God’s will.”
“Well, God must love me then.”
“What makes you think that?” the Reverend asked, genuinely interested in the answer.
“Well, everythin’ I’ve done, afore ‘n after the zombies, well, I’m still here ain’t I?” Mamba grinned like he was the Golden Child.
“For now,” the Reverend said menacingly. “You will meet Saint Peter at the pearly gates of Heaven one day, although I seriously doubt your name will be on his list.”
“Funny ya should say that. It reminds me of this joke, right. So, this guy dies ‘n meets Saint Peter at the pearly gates ‘n Saint Peters shows him what Hell looks like. Well, the guy’s amazed. Hell was jus’ a huge bar as far as the eye could see, filled with beautiful women everywhere with big…never mind that…’n row after row of freshly poured cold beers on the bar. ‘How can this be Hell?’ the man asks, ‘n Saint Peter says, ‘Well, the pint glasses have holes in them, but the women don’t!’ Funny eh?” Mamba said, laughing loudly at his joke.
Even Ahmed cracked a smile, more at Mamba’s temerity than the joke itself. It never failed to amaze him how Mamba could come up with the most irrelevant things at the most irrelevant of times.
“Hilarious,” the Reverend replied sarcastically, clearly offended.
“Love that joke,” Mamba continued. “I got another one fer ya…”
“Unfortunately, we haven’t got time,” the Reverend said, struggling to get to his feet quickly and needing to be helped by his two female Underlings.
The guests around the table looked confused, many with food halfway between their plates and their mouths. They hastily put their food down and wiped their mouths with their napkins.
“It is time for the punishments to begin,” the Reverend proclaimed and headed back towards the Drawing Room.
Mamba and Ahmed looked at each other in surprise before grabbing a couple of apples and putting them in other pockets. Then they rose and hurried to follow the others leaving the room, closely shadowed by their two Enforcers.
17
Day 20 – 20:15
New Eden
As soon as they entered the Drawing Room, they could see that fires had been lit all around the large lawn on the North side of the house and the doors leading to the terrace outside were wide open.
“What’d he mean by punishments?” Mamba asked quietly.
“Guess we’re ‘bout ta find out,” Ahmed replied.
There were Underlings holding trays of drinks and Mamba and Ahmed grabbed an oran
ge juice each before following the Reverend, Disciples and partners, Enforcers and some Underlings onto the terrace.
Mamba took a good look around. The moon was out, and the sky was clear so there was some light already, but the burning drums around the perimeter gave the place the feel of Bonfire night. Mamba wondered if there was going to be any fireworks. He’d anyways enjoyed them, and it was one of his favourite memories from when he was a kid, but he didn’t get to see fireworks too often in the city, and of course, his Mum could never afford to buy any. It was more a case of him and Ahmed watching other people’s fireworks from the rooftop of the Green Park Estate in Stepney, East London. The ten-floor building, which was their home, provided far reaching views over London.
The Reverend was standing near the edge of the terrace, in front of wide steps which led down onto the lawn.
Mamba and Ahmed moved across to where the Reverend stood, people moving out of their way but trying to find their own vantage point so they could see what was about to happen.
The Reverend saw that Mamba and Ahmed had joined him and waited patiently until a couple of Underlings brought him a chair to sit on.
Once he was comfortable, he began.
“Tonight, we bear witness to the punishment of four people.”
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away!” everyone but Mamba and Ahmed responded loudly.
“One for swearing in the eyes of the Lord,” the Reverend continued.
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away!”
“One for stealing in the eyes of the Lord.”
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.”
“Two for adultery.”
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away!”
The Reverend hesitated, looking up at Mamba who had sarcastically shouted ‘the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away’ the loudest.
Mamba stared back.
“Jus’ gettin’ inta the spirit of it, Rev” he said.
The Reverend shook his head as if trying to get rid of an annoying insect buzzing around his head, a slight tic developing in his left eye at the same time. He then turned back to face the lawn.
“Let the punishments begin!” the Reverend shouted.