The Chardon Chronicles: Season Two --- The Winter

by Kevin Kimmich

  Chapter Seven

  Daniel’s mural completely covered the walls of the stucco church. Another man had carved a statue of Samantha with her arms upraised, and Daniel painted the statue to match his vision. Samantha’s hair was dark red and she was wearing a red jacket. They cut the cross on the roof so its arms were equal length, and Daniel painted it yellow and white, and they installed a bank of lights to illuminate the cross and the statue in brilliant light.

  The church became the focal point for people who were fleeing their old lives. Order emerged from the initial chaos of the camp. Freed from hours of pointless tasks in cubicles and offices around the nation’s capital, people began applying their minds to solving their daily problems and the camp became a clean, orderly place that was buzzing with ideas.

  In the evenings they congregated around the church to discuss the meaning of what they’d witnessed and to plan what to do next. The front steps of the building became a stage. The reverend’s mind was on fire with thoughts and he shared them with the crowd in the evenings as the sun approached the western horizon.

  He carried a large ornate bible onto the steps and addressed the crowd. “For so long, we’ve labored under the notion that this book is a history book. This idea has warped the mind of millions of people. People once believed the only path to so called salvation was through the church, an institution of man. That created the foundation for a mass society, and a mass of people who were cut off from the light! We were so easily led astray.” He gestured to the roof and the glowing cross and the statue of Samantha. He thumped the bible. His pudgy face was earnest. His round gold rimmed glasses were shining in the light. He thumped the bible again and said, “This is a work of fiction, of beautiful metaphors. It is almost entirely misunderstood.” The crowd murmured. A man in the front row was swaying back and forth and he shouted, “Preach it brother!”

  The reverend continued, “These metaphors are meant to be understood from the point of view of our souls. They are about the soul’s journey. What we all felt, the thing that compelled us to this spot was the awakening of our soul. Just as the sun embraces the earth, and becomes vegetation, and causes life, and causes, well, everything, our soul embraces our flesh. The two together are whole. Just as the motion of Earth around the sun causes the seasons, all is governed by cycles, of ebb and flow, increase and decrease… It’s actually so very simple...”

  A woman in the crowd in her early thirties with dark brown curly hair and caramel skin was a new arrival to the camp. She shouted, “Let me speak! It’s urgent.”

  The crowd parted and she climbed onto the stairs and faced them. Her voice was laden with desperation, “My name is Landa, I’m actually, well was a police officer. I was sent here to infiltrate your camp. There are many other police and federal agents among you. If they find no evidence of so called sedition, they’ll create it. Unfortunately, this place won’t be safe for long. They fear your beliefs. You are a threat to their system of death. Your beliefs, if they spread, will destroy it. Since you are gathered here in a mass, your destruction will be used as a symbol.”

  Daniel climbed onto the stage and embraced her. He said, “Thank you.” He faced the crowd and announced, “I believe her. I believe she is correct. I feel the Beast is regaining its strength. It has not been destroyed, merely hurt. Its servants in our world will nurse it back to health with death, despair, and lives wasted.” He stumbled and fell on a knee. He gasped. The crowd grew completely silent.

  He saw Samantha in a pine forest. She was leaning on Owen. She wore a red dress with a pattern of gold stars. “Daniel,” She whispered to him, “They are preparing to bring the Beast into your world. It will need many hosts. This is not a sign of strength, but a sign of desperation. It is dangerous for you to stay there. You must disperse. Your work must continue. Do you see the men in the audience who cast a shadow in this world? Those men should not join you.”

  Peachey ran onto the stage and helped Daniel. He announced, “I saw it too. I saw her speak to you.”

  Daniel nodded. He announced. “The Beast is coming to our plane. This is not something to fear, rather, it is a sign of desperation. We must disperse so our work can continue. I can identify the agents!” He asked Landa, “Can you show the people your shoes?” He started laughing.

  She laughed in response and took her black leather, lugged soled shoes off and held them up. She said, “The infiltrators are wearing these.”

  The crowd pulled away from other men and women in the crowd. Daniel said, “Some of them are OK, you and you.” He pointed at a young man who was wearing a flannel shirt and jeans, and a young looking blond woman, and said, “Those two are clean. The others, are servants of the Beast, just ignore them.”

  Peachey smacked Daniel’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go west.”

  They started walking. The crowd was slowly dispersing and heading off in different directions. Daniel and Peachey took in the site of the Occitan cross and the statue of Samantha one last time, then picked up their pace and went West, a few others fell in with them.

  By the time N-Cubed arrived to cover the destruction of the camp, only a handful of people were still camped out. Similarly, the network was down to a skeleton crew of reporters who were willing to recite the stories on air.

  An intern had been promoted to report on the incident. He dutifully read the script while the cameraman filmed and made snarky comments. The intern’s skinny face was illuminated by the camera’s spotlight. “I’m here in a seditionist camp where hundreds of people gathered to participate in an occult ritual.”

  The camera man laughed and he swept the lens across the nearly empty lot, he called out, “Yeah look at those hundreds of people!” He zoomed in and out rapidly.

  “On the line with us today is Sedition Task Force Chief Walter Gray. Chief Gray, what can you tell us about this group?”

  They heard Walter Gray’s voice through their ear piece. He read in a monotone, “In recent days, the nation’s capital was threatened by a plot to undermine our way of life. The seditionists fled after their plot failed, and moved to makeshift camps around the city, spreading anarchy and disease. Our quick actions to restore order have caused them to disperse.”

  The cameraman got bored and filmed the statue of Samantha and the murals. The intern tried to get back into the shot. The cameraman said, “Look at all this. It’s really beautiful. Incredible.”

  A bulldozer lumbered down the street. “Oh fuck no!” The cameraman said. He walked over to the bulldozer operator and shined the light on his face. “Are you really going to wreck this building?”

  The bulldozer operator sighed. He was a heavyset white man with a biker beard. He took off his hardhat and said, “Dude, it’s just my fucking job.”

  The intern got into the shot again and continued reading the script. “The task force has ordered the destruction of this seditionist cult headquarters.”

  The cameraman heard Walter Gray’s voice reading from another script, “These seditionist cults lured unsuspecting people into their fold, and this shrine is a danger to the community because of the dangerous hallucinogenic chemical contamination.”

  The bulldozer drove toward the building. The cameraman sprinted ahead of it and carefully documented the entire mural, then stepped back and kept the camera focused on the statue of Samantha until he heard the bulldozer crunching into the back of the building. Then he pointed the camera at the moon for a while.

  The intern grabbed his arm and said, “You’re missing the shot.”

  The cameraman shoved him and said, “Fuck off you ‘tween bitch. I’m leaving.” He threw the heavy camera at the intern who stepped out of the way. The camera hit the ground and the signal back to the network was lost.