“Well,” said Fletcher as he got out of his throne and stood next to Nash. “I have a few beauticians living here and they take good care of them daily. Rose was one of them, so I guess I should say I had a few beauticians. They dress them, wash them, do their makeup and hair. These women live the good life here, as you can see.”
Nash locked eyes with a woman in her early twenties, sitting in the front pew right in front of him. She had shoulder length red hair, with slight freckles on her cheeks and big green eyes. Her makeup was done to perfection, with bright red lipstick and thick black eye lashes.
“She’s splendid,” Nash said as he stepped forward and ran his hands through her hair.
“Oh yes,” said Fletcher. “She’s in the front row for a reason. Easy to look at, isn’t she?”
“That’s putting it lightly.”
“Go ahead,” said Fletcher, goading him. “Take a closer look.”
Nash ran his hands up and down her soft, exposed arms, surprised at how warm she was for a slowpoke. Knowing Fletcher was watching him, he cocked his head to the side and ran his hand under her dress, cupping one of her breasts and squeezing softly. Fletcher watched him with a smile, rapping his fingers on his scepter.
“Take a look under the hood,” he said.
“I think she’ll do just fine,” said Nash, looking into the deep green eyes of the redhead.
“Is she for you, or the girlfriend?”
“Oh, she’s definitely for both of us.”
“Alright then,” said Fletcher, laughing slightly as he watched Nash with a smile.
“We want her full time.”
“That’s a tall order,” said Fletcher. “She’s quite popular around here. You’d be breaking a lot of hearts by taking her out of rotation.” Nash stood determined, looking intently at Fletcher as he waited for his response. “Then again, the thought of that cute little girlfriend of yours in the sack with Samantha here makes me smile. I’ll allow it.”
“Just curious…how do you keep them sitting still like this?”
“The dumb ones are actually quite trainable. Newer girls will try and get up and walk around but if you just keep sitting them back down, they eventually stay put.”
“Never would have guessed,” said Nash, inspecting Samantha with his eyes.
“Anything else I can help you with, Nash?”
“No, I think I’m all set. Thank you, Fletcher.” Nash smiled as he took Samantha’s hand.
“I think you’ll both be very happy with her. Her physical upkeep is up to you at this point, but our beauticians are available whenever you’d like. To keep them nourished, we have a formula we’ve created that she can drink, three times a day. Easy as that.”
“Thank you,” said Nash as he smiled beside Samantha.
“Why the change of heart, Nash?” asked Fletcher, showing his skeptical side. “You seemed pretty stuck in your ways last time we spoke.”
“Dietrich,” said Nash. “He was at our house earlier today and told us about the woman he lives with and made it sound so nice. I was shocked when he left and Melissa said we should do the same.”
“He’s a good man to have around,” said Fletcher. “And she sounds like a wildcat! You’re a lucky man, my friend.”
“Thank you,” said Nash and shook Fletcher’s hand.
“Go, enjoy her. Have fun. I’ll talk with Dietrich and get you set up with a field partner and you can start tomorrow.”
Nash forced a smile and walked away, leading Samantha by placing his arm around her waist and guiding her in the same direction. Fletcher chuckled as they walked together, side by side.
When the doors closed behind them Nash felt the need to apologize to the dead woman, “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. He was mortified by the way he had to touch her in front of Fletcher. He was disgusted by the way this seemed natural to Fletcher and his men.
Dietrich stood across the street from where they walked, talking to one of the gardeners as they worked. He gave Nash a slight nod as they continued down the road. The sun was getting low and the sounds of the dead amplified, always louder as the sounds of the day receded and gave way to the quiet of night.
He opened the door and led Samantha inside. Shocked didn’t begin to describe the look on Melissa’s face. Fear, hurt, disdain, all fluttered across her features.
“What the hell Nash?” she demanded. Nash released the slowpoke and locked the door behind him.
“Say hello to Samantha,” said Nash.
“I see, Samantha, why is she here Nash?” Melissa’s voice was just a decibel lower than a screech.
“She is our communion, or at least she’s our fake communion.” Realization dawned on Melissa’s features and she looked Samantha over again.
“She looks so…alive.”
“I know. They all do.”
“How’d it go?” she asked, as she inspected Samantha.
“Horrible,” he said and hugged her tightly. “What they think is normal is scary. But I had to convince them.” Melissa nodded, hugging him back – her gaze not leaving Samantha.
“And did you?”
“I think I did,” he said. “Fletcher thinks you’re a wildcat.”
Melissa snorted, surveying their guest. “She’s gorgeous.”
“He has people taking care of their looks. The woman that was killed today was one of them.”
Nash and Melissa jumped as a knock came from the front door. Samantha stood without reaction, looking at the door with a blank smile. Nash looked through the side window to see the familiar silhouette of Dietrich, standing alone on their porch in the dark. He opened the door as the cries of the dead flowed into their foyer.
“I see you chose Samantha,” he said as Nash closed the door behind him. “She gets a lot of use around here. I’m glad you got her out of the rotation. When do you have to have her back?”
“We don’t,” said Nash as he looked out the window again to make sure nobody was around.
“How the hell did you swing that? You didn’t promise him too much did you?” asked Dietrich as they all moved into the living room beside the foyer.
“Not at all. I did exactly what we talked about. He said he’s going to be talking to you and placing me with a partner tomorrow. I made it all seem like it was Melissa’s idea to have her here. The thought of her and Samantha together was enough to get what we wanted.”
“He hides it well, but Fletcher’s downfall will be his perversion with women. Not many people know this, but the part of the church he lives in is filled with woman like Samantha.”
“Melissa is coming with me, outside the walls,” said Nash. Both Dietrich and Melissa looked at him, surprised by the idea. “I’m not leaving her inside alone with Duncan. He’s been watching us since we got here and I’m not taking any chances.”
“Good call,” said Dietrich. “I’m going to go talk with Fletcher now, get you all set up. I’m going to have you out there with a girl named Emma. She’s a friend.”
“How many friends do we have in here?” asked Melissa as she guided Samantha onto the couch and sat next to her.
“Not many,” he said. “We have to wait for the right opportunity. I need to caution you both not to cross his guards. Any of the men wearing the black suits are his personal security detail and they are the most depraved individuals inside the walls. Their communion is horrific and they take it whenever they want. They’d die for him without question.”
“What do you mean by horrific?” Melissa asked.
“Nobody really knows these things,” he said as he looked out the window through the side of the curtain. “I’m not sure which one, but one of them has a taste for children and Fletcher has a few younger dead ones stored somewhere in the church. I don’t know where.”
“That’s…that’s just…,” she stuttered.
“Horrifying?” Dietrich offered. Melissa nodded, her face white.
“Why not tell everyone these things?” asked Nash. “I’m sure if ever
yone knew that sort of thing, they’d be ready to throw him out themselves.”
“Everyone here is so wrapped up in their own communion that nothing else matters. I can tell you that a good amount of your people have already given in. I’ve seen drugs, alcohol, and women already given out to them. You two are young and probably didn’t have the kind of vices that older members of your group had before the rise of the dead. Addiction is a strong motivator, and Fletcher knows it.”
Neither of them had any clue that so many in their group would fall so easily to the communion offered by Fletcher Crawford. There was a small glimmer of hope that maybe the residents of the Treefort were doing just as Nash was —faking it.
“We have a friend from our group. Her name’s Dianna,” said Nash. “She was partners with Sullivan, the leader of the Treefort. She could be an asset to our cause.”
“I think I know who you’re talking about,” said Dietrich. “She’s a taller, larger framed woman, correct? Long, brown matted hair?”
“Yes, that’s her,” said Melissa.
“She’s knee deep in a pool of alcohol right now,” said Dietrich. “I saw her leave the church earlier with a duffle bag. All I had to do was walk past her to hear the clanging of the bottles inside. I saw the look on her face as we passed. She’s mourning and old vices die hard. I think the best thing is to just keep her safe until we are ready to act.”
“I never would have guessed she’d have been an alcoholic,” said Nash as Melissa leaned onto his shoulder.
“There’s a lot about your group you probably don’t know, or want to know for that matter.”
With that, Dietrich walked past them back into the foyer. He left the soft scent of cologne, a strange smell that neither of them were used to smelling but were learning to appreciate.
“I’ll have Emma come by in the morning to get you. We don’t have the kind of protective gear I saw you wearing back in the woods, so you’ll have to be on guard. You’re sure you’re comfortable with this, Melissa?”
“I’m sure. I’m safer with Nash out there than I am in here.”
“I would agree,” he said as he opened the door and stepped into the dark. “See you tomorrow.”
Nash shut the door and watched him disappear into the night. They stood together in the foyer, looking into the living room as Samantha sat alone.
“She makes me so sad,” said Melissa while she watched Samantha smile back at them.
“Let’s get her upstairs and into a bedroom,” said Nash as he walked into the living room and helped her up.
The three of them made their way upstairs; Nash in the lead, holding Samantha’s hand as Melissa followed behind. Melissa came around and opened the door to the bedroom that was directly next to theirs, which was just as lavishly decorated as their own.
“Stay with me for a minute,” he said as he flicked on the light to illuminate the room. He wasn’t used to having electricity again but he was quickly becoming accustomed to it. “I want to see if she was bitten.”
“I never even thought about that,” said Melissa. “You don’t think he would…”
“Yeah, I do,” said Nash as he slipped the straps of Samantha’s dress off her shoulders.
The sundress fell to the floor in a crumple as she stood naked in front of them just as she had with so many men before. She continued to smile, her breasts protruding in front of her as Nash and Melissa awkwardly began their inspection.
They each took one of her arms, turning it over in their hands as they looked for any sign of a bite mark. After inspecting her legs, Nash stepped back to let Melissa inspect her breasts and buttocks. They sat her on the bed and inspected the bottoms of her feet and in between her toes, not leaving a single inch of her uninspected. Nash looked up to see her smiling back at him, which made him blush with awkward nervousness.
“It’s okay, Nash,” said Melissa, smiling as she continued to look at Samantha’s right foot.
“This is just so weird,” he said as he pulled Samantha back onto her feet and placed the sundress on over her head. He and Melissa looked together behind her ears and all throughout her perfectly done hair.
“I didn’t see a thing. Not a single bite mark or scar,” said Melissa.
“That’s because she wasn’t ever bit,” said Nash as he met Samantha’s smiling gaze. “He’s handpicking girls for his brothel.”
“Right from the people he brings back…” Melissa’s thoughts trailed off in the same direction as Nash’s.
“We can’t step out of line, Mel. Not a single toe, not for a while.” Melissa swallowed hard.
A shared fear swam through both of their minds as Melissa leaned into Nash’s shoulder, feeling Samantha’s gaze on them the whole time. Finding not a single bite mark on her had confirmed a fear that Nash had already been holding onto since they met him at the church.
Fletcher Crawford wanted Melissa for his collection.
Chapter 24
Emma showed up the next day, just as Dietrich said she would. She was a short woman in her early thirties, with short cropped, brown pixie hair. She wore a tank top, which revealed arms covered in tattoos from wrist to shoulder. Nash and Melissa stood shell-shocked at the open door, looking at the woman who almost in every way reminded them of Eliza.
“Everything okay?” asked Emma. Her deeper voice contrasted with their memory of Eliza’s higher pitch.
“Yes, sorry,” said Nash as he introduced himself and Melissa. “You remind us a lot of someone we used to know.”
“Good thing or bad thing?” she asked.
“Good thing,” said Melissa, smiling.
“Dietrich caught me up to speed,” said Emma as she handed them both a loaded handgun and Bowie knife. “Try not to use these unless needed. When we’re outside the walls, stay with me and you’ll be fine. I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you what it’s like out there.”
“We know all too well,” said Nash. He knew how to handle himself outside the walls, but for Melissa, this was a first. “We’ll follow your lead.”
Emma reached down and handed them each a duffle bag, which they both slung over their backs as they walked toward the center of town. Nash looked up Dianna’s street as they passed, only to see the curtains still drawn—no signs of life.
“I checked on her this morning,” said Emma as they continued passed the street. “Dietrich told me about her and that you were worried. She’s liquored up something fierce, but she’s okay.”
“What is she doing for Fletcher that she has so much time to sit around drinking?” asked Nash.
“Fletcher knows that she and your group’s leader were an item, and she was supposed to be the one in charge coming in here,” said Emma. “I think he’s just letting her self-medicate herself into oblivion to keep her out of the game.”
“Guess that makes sense,” said Nash. “He’s very calculated, that one.”
“Other than the gardeners and the people from our group, we’ve hardly seen anyone out and about,” said Melissa.
“That’s about right. Most everyone around here barricade themselves inside throughout the week, either strung out on drugs or screwing their days away. Makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Where’s he getting all these drugs?” asked Nash.
“It’s only one drug, actually. He has a team here that makes it for him, his own recipe. It’s ingestible and he’s had them craft it to look like a communion wafer.”
“He has a bit of a God complex, doesn’t he?” Nash asked. He watched the guards let in another familiar face from the Fort into the church. Emma simply smiled as they continued walking.
A man with thick flannel shirt sat on a bench with a rifle resting on his lap. He had his legs crossed, with tattered jeans and thick work boots.
“Good morning, sexy,” he said as they approached.
“Just open the cover, Brad,” she said sternly. Nash could tell this was something she dealt with often.
“Okay sweetie, don’t ge
t your panties in a bunch…if you’re even wearing any. Are you?”
The three of them stood silently as Emma and Brad stared each other down. Nash fought the urge to stand up and say something in her defense, but knew from their short interaction that she was more than capable to stand on her own.
“Oh well, a man can dream,” said Brad and grabbed a crowbar from beside him to pry open the manhole cover.
The three of them climbed down the ladder leading to the sewer below as Brad placed the cover back. The musty air choked them slightly as they inhaled and Emma flicked on a powerful flashlight, which illuminated the long underground tunnel.
“This is the best way to get out of the Mansion without drawing attention from the dead,” she said as they moved through the tunnel. They walked in silence for a few minutes before coming to a stop near another ladder that led up to the street. Emma led the way, stopped at the top, and knocked five times on the cover with a pair of brass knuckles. A few moments later, the end of another crowbar appeared in one of the holes of the cover and it was lifted from its base.
“Thank you, Allan,” she said as she climbed out of the hole and into the sunlight. Nash could tell she had said it with a smile. They came out of the sewer one by one and were greeted by a tall, tanned man with a ponytail. He had a thick beard, which hid the tattoos on his neck that seemed to join tattoos on his chest underneath a sleeveless t-shirt. He leaned down and kissed Emma on her smiling lips.
“Nash and Melissa, this is Allan,” she said. They shook hands quickly and exchanged small talk before they headed off down the road toward a row of burned down homes.
“How long have you been together?” asked Melissa as they walked.
“About a year, actually,” she whispered. “His camp and my camp were brought here within days of each other.”
They stopped for a moment as Emma surveyed the area with a pair of binoculars. Most of the dead from the area were drawn to the Mansion, which made the area around them relatively safe. Looking back, Nash could see the Mansion, complete with hundreds of howlers squawking as they attempted to breach the walls. They covered the entirety of the wall and made it almost impossible to pass without sending out the motorcycles to draw them away.
This Land of Monsters Page 21
