Circle of Wagons: The Gospel of Madness (Book 4 of 6) (The Gospel of Madness - (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Series))

by Georg Bruckmann

  "Your backpack. Throw it over to me."

  Again, Mariam followed Wanda's instructions. Wanda brought Mariam's backpack and then her own between herself and the stairs and went behind it to her knees. I built myself a ridiculous shooting gallery there, she thought. But the backpacks were better than nothing. Did she still have ammo for the MP? She tried to remember, but she just couldn't, and then it started.

  A head popped up. Wanda fired her gun. The head disappeared again. She didn't know if she had hit or not. Voices came up from below. Some whispering, some hoarse and angry.

  "Hello? Hello, can anyone hear me?" Mariam let go of the talk button and waited for an answer. Nothing. Nothing.

  "The next channel, take the next channel and don't stop. Tell them we have doctor Mahler and we need help. Come on, come on!"

  Wanda had said these words without losing sight of the staircase. The first one to show his head up here had come slowly. Careful and lurking. What would they try next? Storm? They had to know that such an attempt was tantamount to suicide, didn't they?

  "Hello? We're on the tower, with Doctor Mahler, we need help, can anyone hear us? Hello?"

  Silence. Nothing. Just static noise. The shadows cast on the wall by the degenerates at the bottom of the staircase were in constant motion. They gathered. They made plans. Hiding something. Wanda could feel it and it drove her crazy that she could do nothing but wait.

  Hand grenades. Bars of Dynamite, like in the Western movies. A Molotov cocktail. But they didn't have any of that. Mariam had changed channels again and recited her formula. Two degenerates jumped into Wanda's fire zone. On the left an axe thrower, which could have been a brother of the deceased on the steps of the church entrance, on the right a stocky woman dressed in bulky rags with a crossbow. The two took up the entire width of the staircase and obstructed each other. They didn't try to storm up the stairs. The axe throw was miserable, fast and hasty - yes, anxiously - executed, and the weapon slipped along the wall of the stairwell, only roughly towards Wandas position, bounced against the last step of the stairs and then, accompanied by bright metallic sounds, slipped down a few steps again. Nevertheless, the maneuver served its purpose because it captured enough of Wanda's attention to allow the degenerate woman with the crossbow to take half a second more time to aim. Her bolt had already covered half the distance to Wanda when she operated the pistol trigger twice. The first shot hit the axe thrower in the middle of the chest. The ejected cartridge case glittered strangely beautifully in the air before it collided with the church bell and produced a high, long-lasting, metallic sound. The axe man collided with the wall of the staircase at the same time as Wanda's second bullet. He left his blood there, which was drawn down in a long trail when he collapsed. The other bullet only left a hole there, which Wanda noticed in slow motion as the crossbow shooter's bolt hissed close to her head.

  Before Wanda could pull the trigger again, the woman had already disappeared around the corner and only the wide open, dead eyes of the axe thrower still seemed to shoot death threats in Wanda's direction. Surely the woman was busy getting her crossbow ready to fire again. Wanda changed her position, pressing herself against the tower's elaborately bricked railing to make it impossible for the woman to shoot from memory the next time she´d come around the corner.

  In the meantime Mariam had returned to the first of the four channels of the radio and simply continued. Her voice was telling she started slowly but surely losing faith. Even Wanda was anything but sure that it would work.

  "Heilbronn. Tell them we're in Heilbronn on the steeple! On the big one!"

  Mariam nodded, continued with expanded text, channel by channel, again and again. Minutes passed in which none of the degenerates could be seen at the foot of the last landing. But they were still there. Wanda knew. She could see their shadows. She could hear their whispering. They couldn't let them go. No way. They plotted something, she was sure of it. What would she do in their place? She'd send at least one or two to get reinforcements. She would...

  "You have to come down sometime, you know that, don't you?"

  A dirty laugh followed these words, full of malice and arrogance. It was a woman's voice laughing, and Wanda was sure it belonged to the crossbow shooter.

  "We'll wait for you downstairs! Take your time. Hours or days, it doesn't matter to us. You shouldn't have come here, you know? You shouldn't have shot at us. Now you belong to us."

  Another dirty laugh, then Wanda could hear footsteps that slowly faded.

  Of course I know, bitch.

  They'd realized they couldn't overrun them right away. Their first rage had disappeared along with the life of the second axe thrower. Maybe they'd really wait, maybe they'd come back in an hour. Maybe at night. But perhaps they would also settle around the church, around the tower and just wait until their prey would lose its nerve, until it - until them - would run out of food and water. In front of her inner eye, Wanda saw degenerates, infinitely many degenerates climbing up the tower outside at night. Shadows that radiated nothing but absolute murder. Like a flock of omnivorous insects. Black, ugly beetles with glowing red eyes, which hung along the gothic decorations, ledges and waterspouts.

  Of course she knew it was bullshit, but still she shivered, when she managed to shake the thought off. Mariam and Dr. Mahler had also heard the woman's words. While Dr. Mahler did not react, Mariam had interrupted her efforts and looked at Wanda questioningly.

  "Looks like we got a little time. Turn off the radio. We'll try again in an hour, maybe they'll be nearby then."

  "We only have one bar left."

  Wanda didn't understand immediately.

  "Bar"?

  "The battery. It'll be empty soon."

  Wanda just nodded. Then she set about getting all the ammunition she had with her out of the backpacks behind which she was still kneeling. She tried hard not to let the stairs out of her sight. It could be a feint. When she had arranged everything, and reloaded the weapons, she realized that they only had eight individual nine millimeters and five of the larger, brass-colored rifle cartridges left. Just a handful more death for the degs. Depressing.

  She listened hard. Was there really nobody lurking around the corner up here anymore? When she was safe, she left her cover, sneaked, the gun in her hand, a few steps down and took the axe and dragged her owner's body diagonally across the steps. This way it posed the greatest obstacle possible. Then she gave Mariam her gun back. She would have liked to say something encouraging to the child, to praise it, but she was afraid that her words would sound wrong and hollow. Optimistic only on the surface. Instead, she brought out something to eat - a piece of sausage and a chocolate bar that she broke in half - and offered the child its half of the meager ration. Mariam came over.

  "How much do we have left?"

  "Enough for about five days if we have to. We must be thrifty."

  "What if it's empty?"

  "Then we have to go down. But that's not gonna happen. They will come, I'm sure of it."

  "But the battery ..."

  Mahler who hadn't seemed listening at first glance made a scornful noise. Then he kicked the bell with all his might. Wanda had seen that he had made an effort to do so. Nevertheless, the heavy metal structure swung only sluggishly. The suspensions crunched. Mahler stepped against it once more. One more time and one more time. The crunch got louder.

  "All right, doctor, all right. Thank you for pointing that out. But it would be easier to move the clapper."

  He coughed dryly.

  "But somebody would have to go down a floor to do that."

  Wanda didn't say anything. She wouldn't do that. Not as long as the walkie-talkie had power. If they rang the bell, it could attract anything. Maybe help - but maybe the drone would attract even more degenerates.

  "Leave the bell alone for now. Want something to eat?"

  "No."

  She turned away from him again and bit into her half of the candy bar. Mariam chewed too and had c
rouched down next to Wanda. The sight of the dead degenerate staring up at them didn't seem to bother the girl, Wanda noted. She ignored it, but began to rummage in her backpack. Soon she pulled out her hands again. They were holding binoculars. Mariam stood up and stepped on the balustrade. She put on her binoculars and started looking.

  "Do you see any? On the square? Degenerate?"

  "No. I don't see anything. Just houses and trees."

  "No cars either?"

  "None that move."

  "Keep looking."

  No degenerates on the court. So they were still lurking in the building. How many more would it be? Eight? Ten? More? Damn, they could be anywhere. At least one would be on spy posts, while the others could wait relaxed until they ran out of food. How could they get out of this situation if the radio doesn't ...

  "There's something."

  Wanda turned around. She couldn't see Mariam. She had to be on the other side of the big bell.

  "What? What's there? What do you see, say it!"

  No answer. At least not right away. The time until Mariam raised her voice again was endless for Wanda. Even Doctor Mahler had his head up again.

  "It's them! The two trucks. Three motorcycles ahead. They're still far away."

  "The radio Mariam! They're close enough for the radio! Quick!

  Mariam finally responded. Impatiently, Wanda watched as the girl came out behind the bell, dropped off her binoculars and took the radio into both hands. Faster, hurry up. Instead of articulating that thought, Wanda said:

  "Don't forget to tell them we have Mahler."

  Time still seemed to stand still as Mariam chose her way through the channels and recited her text.

  Channel one.

  No answer.

  Channel two.

  No answer.

  Channel three.

  No answer.

  Channel four - no answer either.

  Mariam looked up, bitter disappointment in her face.

  "They can't hear us! Why not? Why not? Why..."

  "Calm down, Mariam. Just keep going. Take it easy."

  Channel one again. No answer.

  Channel two. No answer.

  Mariam switched to channel three.

  "We have Doctor Mahler. We're in the church on top of the big tower. We need help!"

  "Tell them Robby's with us!"

  "But Robby is..."

  "Tell them! Tell them he's here and he's hurt."

  Channel four.

  "We have Doctor Mahler. Robby's with us too, but he's hurt. We're in the church on top of the big tower. We need some help. Come quickly!"

  It was difficult for Wanda to keep an eye on the stairs. She would have liked to have torn the radio out of Mariam´s hands and sent out the distress call herself. Did the kid even do it right?

  Did she forget to push the button before she spoke? Mariam was about to switch back to channel one, because finally a strange, tinny voice could be heard.

  "Please repeat. Repeat, please. Robby? Robby, is that you?"

  "No! No, this isn't Robby. This is Mariam. We're on the steeple. There's degenerates downstairs. You must come quickly. Please come quickly. We have doctor Mahler. And Robby's here, too. But he's hurt real bad. We need help."

  "Got it. Stay on this channel and wait until I get back to you."

  An incredibly large weight seemed to fall off Wanda and she could see that Mariam was experiencing the same. When the weight had dropped, Wanda's heart began to beat even faster. She couldn't make a mistake now.

  Don't take your eyes off the stairs. Not so close to rescue.

  "How's the battery?"

  Mariam's face changed in a fraction of a second from childlike joy at her success to a mask of horror.

  "She's blinking! The last bar is flashing!"

  "Tell them to hurry. Tell them again where we are."

  Mariam did. Then the battery was dead. Wanda recognized this by Mariam's facial expression even before the girl slowly let her hand with the radio sink down.

  "Never mind, Mariam. Take the binoculars. Can you see what they're doing?"

  Mariam didn't react at first. Only when Doctor Mahler also snarled at her to finally take the binoculars did she move again in Mariam.

  "They... They stopped. They're not moving."

  "Of course," Wanda said. "They need to consult. Just keep an eye on them."

  "I will."

  Doctor Mahler spoke again from the floor.

  "You don't know these guys you're trying to take me to, do you? What kind of people are they?"

  "They're the only people who can help us right now. That's all you need to know."

  "But..."

  "Just shut your stupid mouth!"

  Passively and whiny, Wanda had liked him way better. For a brief moment she turned to him, gave him a look, and said:

  "Don't make any trouble now. It'll all clear up soon."

  "Clear up? Are you going to tell me something stupid like that you could say something that would excuse for invading us and killing my friends? You're kidding, right?"

  Doctor Mahler laughed sarcastically.

  "I have no idea what your agenda looks like, but..."

  "Shut the fuck up, Doctor."

  Several minutes passed without anyone saying anything. Minutes in which Mariam stared through the binoculars, dedicated to her task with a persevering fidelity that only a child can muster. Mahler stared at a spot between his shoe tips. Wanda, still holding her pistol in her hand and keeping an eye on the stairs, eventually caught herself staring at the dead degenerate.

  First one to blink loses, asshole.

  Wanda prepared for a hard match.

  Then, a little eternity later, something distracted her from this silliness. Mariam spoke again.

  "They're coming. Wanda, they're finally coming! No, wait, wait, wait. Just the motorcycles. The trucks and the other cars stop again. They're sending in the motorcycles."

  Wanda dawned that they had made a mistake.

  "Fucking hell! We should have told them how many of these guys are here. Are you sure you can't use the radio anymore?"

  "I don't think so, but I'll try again."

  "Yeah, do that."

  It would be more than unfavorable if the Motorized, well, if they wanted to rush to their aid, were to suffer losses. Maybe they'd forgive them for lying about Robby if everything went down well. Sure they'd realize it was necessary from their point of view. Essential for survival. But if they lost any more people, who knows what they'd do. A few seconds later, seconds in which Mariam had unsuccessfully tried to use the radio, Wanda could hear the engines.

  What are you gonna do about it?

  Wanda tried to put herself in the position of the leader of the Motorized and weighed up her options. The safest way would be to just wait up here until the Motorized had cleaned up with the degenerates. Wanda was torn. She owed Mariam the greatest possible security. On the other hand, she had plans with the Motorized ones. In their first encounter, their leader had classified them and the girl as annoying at best. As an unnecessary burden. Hopefully that would change if she handed him this doctor Mahler. But was that enough? Was it enough to persuade the man to take them into his group? Especially now, when she not only proudly presented her bounty, but also had to explain to him how Robby had died?

  No, she answered her own question.

  No, doctor Mahler would probably not be enough as a ticket into the world of these people. Like any group that had grown together over many years, united by a common goal, the Motorized were a sworn crowd, a kind of family.

  No, she shouldn't let any of the scouts on the motorcycles get killed.

  "Mariam, how much longer do you think they'll be on their way?"

  "A few minutes maybe."

  The answer sounded uncertain. Wanda released one of the carrying straps from her backpack and instructed Mariam to lower the binoculars for a moment and guard the stairs in her place. Then she tied Mahler´s legs again.
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br />   He let it happen without resistance, but asked what she was up to.

  "I'm going down. When they come, I'll go downstairs and do my part. And so you don't try to pull some lousy stunt on Mariam while I'm down there, I'll tie your feet together."

  Wanda also checked the cable ties that held his wrists together behind his back.

  "No tricks, Doctor."

  He said nothing more.

  Mariam also said nothing, but briefly grabbed Wanda's hand and pressed it firmly before Wanda made her way down.

  ***

  Step by step Wanda went down the tower. Behind every turn, around every corner could lurk a crossbow, a spear or anything else that was pointy or deadly. Wanda fought the tension down. She knew that there were still many corners and twists waiting for her. She told herself she couldn't afford to have a near heart attack from fear and adrenaline.

  Calm was her mantra, and in her mind she recited it with every step she took. The engine noise had come closer. She hoped her timing would work out halfway. They should see that she was able to make her contribution. When she had completed a third of her journey without encountering a degenerate, her heart stopped beating so fast.

  After another third, Wanda no longer began to feel like a prey. She by then felt cold as ice. Superior. Deadly. She peeped around the next corner like she had been doing all along. A quick glance, then immediately pulling her head back again. Nothing. No one to be seen. But wasn't there something? But nothing you could see with eyes. Quiet murmur that penetrated through the constant but much too slowly swelling noise of the motorcycles. At least two behind the next bend, Wanda estimated.

  Should she wait?

  Had the motorcycles already arrived on the site in the meantime?

  The degenerates had to hear the engines too, didn't they?

  How would they react to that?

  Would they hole up in the church?

  Would those who were dispatched to guard the tower go down, outside, to face the vanguard of the Motorized ones?

  When was the right time to storm around the corner and start the fight? How would the scouts react to shots? Would they stop their rescue mission and get to safety as soon as they heard a firefight? Then Wanda would be in even greater danger than she already was. No, attacking now was not a good idea. She forced herself to loosen her tense shoulders and give up the half-ducked posture in which she had moved for a moment. She stood in the middle of the stairs and kept listening.