Twisted World Series Box Set | Books 1-3 & Novella

by Mary, Kate L.

  We climbed back into our own truck and did as we were told. The drive only took four minutes at the most, and then the one carrying the members of The Church pulled into an overgrown driveway much like the one we’d parked in when we’d come into the city before. We were silent as we all climbed out and started walking, following Sabine and her guards, and for once my thoughts weren’t on Donaghy and if we’d find Star, but I instead found myself wondering what these people would do if they ran into trouble. The Church claimed they didn’t kill the dead, but out here it was either kill or be killed. I doubted any of these three would stand by and allow the zombies to bite them.

  It was still light out, and I couldn’t help being more than a little nervous when the wall came into view. I had no clue what Star had told the enforcers, but there was no doubt in my mind that whoever was working the wall was on the lookout for us. If we were spotted, all our careful planning would be for nothing.

  “Do not worry,” Sabine said, almost as if she could read my thoughts. “The guard towers are sparse back here, and men are rarely assigned to them.” She waved to the only tower visible and when I squinted up at it, I realized that it was empty. “The wall here is not easy to climb and they keep most of their men at the front.”

  “She’s right,” Parv said from behind me. “We’ve always focused on the gate.”

  “There is reason for this,” Sabine said as she approached the wall, her gaze moving to my aunt. “We have people everywhere.”

  Parv’s back stiffened. “I’m the Judicial Officer. No one told me to make that decision, I just did it.”

  Sabine lifted her eyebrows in a perfect imitation of her mother. “Didn’t they?”

  My aunt’s steely gaze faltered and she looked away.

  Sabine only smiled.

  She came to a halt about five feet from an old junker of a car that was right up against the wall, but her guards didn’t stop. The weeds around it had grown so tall that you couldn’t get a very good view of the car, but the thing didn’t look like much more than a rusted heap. That didn’t stop the guards from opening the door though, and when they did the hinges didn’t even creak.

  “This way,” Sabine said.

  She moved toward the open door, lifting the skirt of her robe as she ducked down. I moved after her, curious, and watched as she climbed into the car. The seats were gone, as was the other door, and what looked to be a tunnel laid beyond that. Sabine was through the car in seconds, and even when she had stepped out she had to stay low, but she kept moving.

  I climbed into the car after her, and I was still making my way through when light flooded the darkness. I squinted, trying to get a glimpse of my surroundings through the sudden brightness, and that’s when I realized that she’d pushed a door open.

  She was all the way through now, standing on the other side and waiting for the rest of us, so I scurried forward, out of the car and through the tunnel that had somehow been burrowed into the wall. When I was through I found myself in an alley that was blocked off on both ends, by what I didn’t know, but in front of us stood a building with a door that had been painted a deep shade of red.

  We’d reached the Temple.

  When everyone was through Sabine opened the door, confirming that I had been right. We followed her in, all of us in a silent line. I’d never set foot inside the Temple before and I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but this wasn’t it. It was too simple, too plain for a group of people who were this eccentric.

  “This way,” Sabine said as she led us through the room.

  It was empty for the most part. Large and dimly lit, the starkly white walls and floors contrasted with the doom and gloom this group had always made me feel when they were around. There were no chairs, no tables, and no other objects to speak of except at the very front of the room where a shrine of Angus James sat in the place of honor. It was twice as large as the one in the city square; and four times as big as the one down the street from the apartment I’d grown up in. There were candles around it, their lights flickering in the darkness of the room, and dozens of pieces of paper. I knew what they were without looking, people had done the same thing to the statue on my street for as long as I could remember. Credits, gifts to the messiah, and prayer notes. Desperate pleas from desperate people who were looking for a miracle from the only god anyone bothered to pray to these days: Angus James.

  “Where do people sit?” I asked as we approached the statue.

  I imagined that this was where the followers gathered to pray, and the statue at the head of the room seemed to confirm it, but the lack of chairs contradicted the picture in my head.

  Sabine glanced over her shoulder at me. Her eyes were only a shade darker than her mother’s and would probably be just as creepy-looking if it weren’t for the golden hue of her hair. It helped keep her from looking washed out, and instead made her a strikingly beautiful person, the type who took your breath away when you first met them. At least until she opened her mouth and you realized she was insane.

  “We kneel,” she said in a tone that implied I was a moron.

  “On the hard floor?” Al asked incredulously, and then snorted. “Sorry Angus, we’re all happy to see you, but this is the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

  Sabine’s gaze moved to Al, focusing on the stump that was his left arm. “You were bitten?” she asked instead of answering his question.

  My uncle nodded. “We cut it off.”

  “You know it does not always work.” She tilted her head to his arm like he might have forgotten what she was referring to. “But Angus was with you that day, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” Al said reluctantly.

  Sabine turned away from him and continued walking. “Perhaps you should kneel as well and show Him your gratitude.”

  Angus was the one who snorted this time.

  We continued at a steady pace until we reached the front and Angus slowed to a stop. Even though Sabine didn’t follow suit, the rest of us did, stopping at my uncle’s side as he stared down at the statue, an expression on his face that was somewhere between amusement and disgust.

  He nudged the paper with the toe of his boot. “This is the money you guys use now, ain’t it?”

  “Credits,” Parv said with a nod.

  “So this is what? An offering to me?” He looked up so he could meet my aunt’s gaze.

  The corner of Parv’s lips twitched. “Looks like it.”

  Angus nodded once before kneeling down. “Alright then.”

  He sifted through the papers surrounding the statue, separating the credits from the notes people had left behind while the rest of us stood silently at his side. Sabine finally stopped as if she’d just realized we were no longer following, and when she turned to face us, the look of incredulity on her face was almost comical.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, taking a step toward us, her hand out like she wanted to stop this from happening but wasn’t sure how.

  Angus stood, the stack of credits now in his hand. He turned to face her calmly as he shuffled them around, arranging them into a neat pile. “You been collectin’ money in my name for nearly twenty years, so the way I see it, I deserve a cut.”

  “A cut?” Sabine asked, her voice rising.

  “I’m back now, and I got nothing to my name. You think Star’s gonna hand me a bunch of dough before I slit his throat?” Angus shook his head as he shoved the money into his pocket. “He ain’t, and I sure could use the help getting back on my feet.”

  Sabine’s mouth dropped open, but she said nothing in response. She just stood there, staring at my uncle like she couldn’t wrap her head around who he was. I wanted to laugh because I knew that this man, as much as he meant to my family, had to be a kick in The Church’s collective balls. No one who bothered to create a deity would ever imagine someone like this, a selfish, foul-mouthed, chain smoker who put himself before the needs of his followers. It should have been a major sign to Sabine that her mom wa
s on the wrong track, but I knew these people were too far gone to allow logic to change their minds.

  We were still silent when the door behind Sabine opened and her mother walked out. The High Priestess wore the same robes as before, only her hood was already down when she paused to take in the scene.

  “Daughter,” she said, her voice loud enough that it bounced off the walls of the room. “Why have you not brought them to my chambers?”

  Sabine turned to her mom, her head once again down. “I was on the way when Angus James stopped at the statue. He took the credits your—” Her gaze flicked to Angus. “—his followers have left behind.”

  The High Priestess lifted her eyebrows at Angus. “You feel this is something you are owed?”

  He met her gaze head on. “Fuck yeah.”

  She tilted her head, studying him with an expression that made it seem like she still wasn’t sure how to take him or if he was in fact Angus James. But it only lasted a moment before she nodded once and then turned her back on him.

  “Very well. Follow me to my chambers,” she called over her shoulder.

  Sabine hurried after her mother without a second glance at us, and we fell in behind her. Angus was chuckling quietly under his breath.

  Her chambers were a lot closer to what I’d expected the inside of the Temple to look like. The room was dark, all the walls painted black except for the largest one, which was instead covered in a mural, and the floor was draped in dark rugs. Deep, red curtains that matched the robes they wore covered the single window, blocking out every ounce of light, and candles burned on every surface, their flickering lights making the atmosphere feel both eerie and reverent at the same time.

  There were two red couches that sat facing the mural, which took up most of the wall. Whoever had done it was clearly talented, no one could have denied that, but I couldn’t say that I enjoyed the subject matter all that much. In the center was a man, clearly meant to be Angus, who stood with his face raised to the sky and his arms held out in front of him. Rays radiated off him, although I wasn’t sure if they were supposed to be some kind of magical power or beams of light, and wispy, white clouds floated around him. There were smaller scenes painted in the corners. A man being overtaken by zombies, the same man lying on the ground bleeding but crawling away from a pile of dead zombies, the man lying on a bed surrounded by people, and finally the same people kneeling at a grave. It was so sick that it made my stomach twist, and the faces of the others in my group showed the same disgust. Even the smile on Angus’s face was a twisted version of a grin, one that was more loathing than amusement.

  Angus turned his back on the mural and looked the High Priestess in the eye. “Why don’t we talk ‘bout this plan of yours? You told me you had weapons.”

  The priestess nodded as she headed across the room. “We have been collecting them, preparing for this day.”

  “I thought The Church didn’t believe in violence,” Parv said.

  “We do not under normal circumstances, but we knew the return of Angus James would require a bloody battle.” The High Priestess paused at a closed door and glanced back over her shoulder. “We wanted to be ready.”

  She pulled the door open and flicked on a light, and even from across the room I could see the rows and rows of guns lined up on the wall. There were dozens upon dozens of them, and stacks of ammo as well. The stash they had here would rival even what the enforcers had in their arsenal.

  “Where did you get them all?” Al asked in amazement.

  “We have been buying them slowly,” Sabine said, speaking for her mother. “From the black market or outside the city walls.”

  The High Priestess turned to face us, still standing in the open doorway. “It has taken us twenty years to collect this many, but we have the army ready if you are willing to fulfill your duty.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Are you willing, Angus James? If you are willing to be the savior we have been waiting for, your disciples will follow you wherever you lead. They will tear the walls of the CDC down with their bare hands if they have to.”

  Angus nodded even as he pressed his lips together. “The sooner the better.”

  The priestess’s mouth morphed into a grin and she nodded to her daughter. “Call the gathering.”

  I stood in the back with the other people in my group, wedged in between Donaghy and Luke. The steady stream of followers had finally died down, and the room was now not only humming with activity, but sticky with humidity as well. The followers knelt just as Sabine said they would, all facing the statue and all wearing the red robes that signified they were bona fide members of The Church. There were hundreds of them, so many that it made my head spin, but I knew this was only the tip of the iceberg. The people here, the ones who were privileged enough to receive a red robe, were just the ones who had been baptized in the blood of Angus James—a ritual I had never seen nor wanted to see—but there were hundreds if not thousands more followers where this came from.

  The door to the chambers opened and the bulky guards came out, followed by The Church’s trusted priests, and then finally Sabine. A hush fell over the crowd that made the room feel suddenly empty. I’d never known a group of this size to be so silent. It was as if they were all holding their breath, as if they knew what was coming, as if they’d always been expecting this moment.

  “Maybe someone let it slip,” Donaghy whispered so low that only I could hear him. “That Angus was back, I mean.”

  “After the explosion at the CDC, they have to suspect,” I replied.

  Before he could respond the High Priestess herself walked out. Her hood was up and she had her hands tucked behind her back so that not even an inch of skin was showing. She looked like a phantom or an evil spirit, and it sent a shiver shooting through my body.

  When she stopped, she was standing in front of the statue of Angus, which still towered over her by nearly a foot. She lifted her head and Sabine stepped forward and lowered her mother’s hood, revealing the ghostly face tucked within.

  “Welcome, my children,” the High Priestess began.

  Her voice boomed off the walls and a hum of energy seemed to ripple through the crowd. People shifted and leaned forward, expressions of eagerness on their faces. I didn’t know how often they were called to a meeting like this, but I had a feeling it was rare. They had to know what was coming.

  “For the past twenty years we have been held hostage by the dead, living behind walls and fearing for our lives. For many there has been no hope, but the faithful, those of us gathered in this room, have known better.” The High Priestess’s mouth stretched wide, but the smile looked as terrifying as she did. “We have always known that this day would come.”

  The murmur that moved through the crowd was louder now, and it grew with each passing second until it turned into a chant. The High Priestess seemed to know that this would happen, because she remained quiet and let it happen.

  “…you have visited them with destruction and wiped out all remembrance of them…”

  Like every other time, the words made the hair on my arms stand up. I knew we needed these people to defeat Star. That we needed the weapons they had and the numbers they would bring, but I couldn’t help wondering what fulfilling this insane prophecy would bring down on us. It seemed irresponsible to encourage this, to make these people, who were so eager to serve this crazy woman, believe that she had been right all along.

  “Shit,” Donaghy muttered, almost as if the same thought had gone through his head.

  I looked around at my family and friends, and the horror on their faces matched the horror I felt inside. A feeling of dread and foreboding came over me, and I could suddenly glimpse a future without zombies, only it wasn’t bright and shiny and promising like I’d thought it would be. It was cloaked in red, just like this woman, and led by zealots.

  After a few minutes, the High Priestess lifted her hands and the chant died away. “We have been faithful and God has rewarded us.” She turned to face her
guards, who in turn pulled the doors to her chambers open again. “Come forward, Angus James.”

  This time, there was no hum of excitement. Instead, everyone in the room seemed to lean forward in anticipation, myself included. Only seconds passed before Angus stepped out, but it seemed to take much longer, and then he was there, covered in a red robe as thick and long as the one the High Priestess wore, only his hood was down. His chest was bare and the neckline was deep enough to reveal a few of the many bites that I knew decorated his skin. When he walked forward and took his place at the High Priestess’s side, there was an expression of pure determination on his face.

  “Take off your robe,” she called, her colorless eyes trained on him.

  He did as he was told, pulling the thick robe over his head. Underneath he wore nothing but a pair of black boxers, allowing everyone to see the scars that dotted his skin. There were even more than I’d realized, because he had them on his legs as well, and in the dim light the candles gave off, they seemed darker than ever against his pale skin.

  “Behold,” the High Priestess said, turning back to face her followers, “I give you our savior, Angus James. Just as I predicted, he has returned from the dead and will now lead us to the future we have been waiting for. Soon the dead will be wiped out and the CDC will be torn down, and the plague of scientists who have destroyed our world will be brought to justice.” The chants began again, and the High Priestess was forced to speak louder so she could be heard over them. “Show them your scars, Angus James!”

  My uncle did as he was told, moving through the crowd of people gathered in the room so they could get a closer look at him. As he passed, people reached out to touch him, running the tips of their fingers over the crescent shaped scars on his arms and legs and chest. People wept, people lifted their arms to the sky and called out things I couldn’t hear. The noise in the room grew louder and louder the more Angus moved through the crowd until it began to feel like a roar. It pounded against the walls and the ceiling, it felt as if it would shake the building, and it seemed to verify exactly what the High Priestess had said to us earlier. That her followers would be able to rip the CDC apart with their bare hands.