“Seems like it should be a priority to me,” Sams said. “Any uncovered windows could be a place Reapers could enter.”
“More than food?” Gregory said. “Or medicines? It’s been my son Henry and I since this mess started. I’ve been the only one able to go out and scavenge.”
“What?” Foster demanded. “Nobody else has been helping?”
“We just got here the day before yesterday,” Randy blurted out. “Plus I wasn’t feeling well, and Lauren needed to keep an eye on the children.”
“Randall would probably be willing, if I asked him,” Gregory offered.
“But he needs a quad cane to get around,” Foster said. “Which doesn’t make it easy to run if you get into trouble.”
“Absolutely,” Gregory said. “So that’s why every night we hide in the basement, hoping we don’t draw any attention from the nighttime patrols.”
“Wait, didn’t Lauren storm upstairs a few minutes ago?” Sams asked.
“Just to the top of the stairs,” Gregory said. “The only windows upstairs are in the bedrooms and bathroom. We keep those doors closed all the time. Lauren likes to sit at the top of the stairs, sometimes in the dark, because it’s quiet.”
“The powder room in the basement means nobody has to go upstairs for a night time bio break, either. You’ve been lucky none of you have been spotted here yet,” Foster said. “Tell more about these patrols.”
“Well, if it's not the Reapers, then it's the Disciple Guardians themselves,” Gregory said. “Because if they find you, they're going to force you to make a decision.”
“What kind of decision?” Foster asked.
“Simple.” Gregory frowned. “Join Disciples of the Divine, or join the Reapers.”
Chapter Fifteen
Foster made his way up the basement stairs. His nose picked up the scent of freshly-cooking bacon, and he felt his mouth begin to drool. He made a beeline for the kitchen and saw that Gregory was standing over the stove.
“Good morning,” Gregory said. “How’d you sleep?”
“Morning,” Foster said. He thought about the uncomfortable sleep sitting on one side of the basement sofa. With twelve people sleeping in the basement, he’d felt like a sardine stuck in a small tin can. They definitely needed to cover the second-floor windows and make the bedrooms a sleeping option in the near future. “Slept okay. You got any coffee?”
“Over there,” Gregory said as he pointed to the coffeemaker sitting at the opposite end of the counter.
“Thanks.”
“Might as well enjoy it for now. I figure I'm going to run out in another day or two, unless I find some scavenging.”
“Good to know. I’ll tell everyone to be on the lookout for more,” Foster said. He glanced over at the table and saw a young boy sitting there with an iPad in front of him, playing a video game. “And who might you be?” Foster asked.
The young boy said nothing.
“Sorry, he’s a little shy. This is my son Henry,” Gregory said. “Henry, please say hello to Mr. Foster. He's a friend of Grandpa.”
“Hi,” Henry said. The young boy appeared to be completely absorbed with playing a video game on the electronic device. There was a half eaten bowl of cereal sat in front of him.
The kitchen door swung open, and Foster saw a young teenager came walking in the door who was the spitting image of Lauren. The girl had a cell phone in her hand and was typing madly away. She glanced up and said, “Uncle Gregory, your Internet here sucks.”
Henry stood up from the table, turned, and left the kitchen without taking his eyes off his iPad the entire time. The young girl flopped down in the newly vacated seat.
“Stinks,” Gregory corrected. “Emily, you know how your Mama feels about you cursing.”
“Yeah.” The teen looked up from her phone, spotted Foster, and then blurted, “What’s your deal?”
“You were sleeping when I got here last night. My name is Malcolm Foster,” Foster said. “I'm friends with Charles.”
“I’m Emily,” the teenager said. “But if I were you, I wouldn't mention Grandpa around my mom too much.”
“Really?” Foster asked with a practiced surprised tone. He wanted to see what additional information the teenager might unknowingly volunteer.
“Uh-huh. Let's just say she's not a big fan.”
“Gotcha,” Foster said. He began to pour himself a cup of coffee. “You want a cup?”
“No way. I don’t know why adults drink that crap.”
Gregory chuckled. “I used to say the same thing when I was your age.”
“Really? What changed?” Emily asked.
“Became a dad. I started drinking coffee when Henry was just a baby, and haven’t stopped since.”
“I started drinking it once I became a cop,” Foster said. “Got any cream and sugar?”
Gregory pointed to some creamer packets and sugar that were on the counter, and Foster proceeded to fix his coffee.
“Oh shit, you’re a cop?” Emily blurted out.
“Language,” Gregory warned.
“Don’t worry. I’m only a police officer in Philadelphia,” Foster said with as warm of a smile as he could manage after only one sip of his first cup of coffee of the day.
“Cool. Hey, can I see your gun?”
“What would your mother say?” Foster asked.
“She would throw a complete shit fit.”
“Emily Elizabeth,” Gregory warned. “Language.”
“Sorry,” the teenager mumbled.
“Then the answer is a definite no,” Foster said. “No point in making your mom mad if we don’t have to.”
“Ah, hell,” Emily muttered. She glanced at her uncle and said, “What? That’s not a curse word.”
He turned his attention to Gregory and asked, “Where have you been looking for supplies?”
“I’ve been trying to stick to the areas that aren't under Disciple control. A good amount of those houses have been abandoned.”
“Really? I didn't think that would be the case. Has there been much in the way of casualties?”
“A few,” Gregory said. “There's been a lot of people who have joined the Disciples of the Divine. There's also been a handful who refused and were handed over to the Reapers. Next thing you know, there’s even more Reapers.”
“Do you know if they were definitely turned into Reapers?”
“Let's just say I've got a pretty good feeling. One of our neighbors was this widower, Larry Johnson. Nice enough elderly man, except if you upset him and then he’d be grumpier than all get out. Well, one day, Larry was confronted by the Disciples. I was close enough to hear the whole thing, but lucky for me nobody saw me.”
“What happened?”
“They asked him to join the Disciples. Old Larry didn’t just refuse. He started screaming at them to get the hell off his property. I still remember Larry wearing his favorite purple hat. You know, the football one with the bird on it?”
“Baltimore Ravens?” Foster asked.
“Yeah, that’s it. Later that night, I heard some noises coming from the direction of his house. It was just Henry and me, and I needed to worry about keeping him safe, so I just took him down into the basement a little earlier than usual. The next day, I went to check on Larry. His front door was open, and there was nobody in his house. Just a long blood trail from the kitchen all the way to the front door. Later that day, I saw one of these Reapers walking around wearing the same clothes as old Larry. Same exact hat, too. Except there was this dried up blood trail from the side of his neck all the way down his shirt. Last time I saw Larry, he was in perfectly clean and normal clothes. Now, I could be wrong. Maybe somebody else borrowed his hat and clothes right before they got turned into a Reaper. But I tend to doubt it.”
“I tend to agree with you. It sounds like your neighbor was probably turned against his will,” Foster admitted. “I gotta be honest. I think you've been pretty lucky here so far. We've probably should start
thinking about ways to make this place more secure.”
“To be honest, with all the people that are here now, we're pretty much busting at the seams,” Gregory said. “This is just a small house. And since this all went down, Lauren showed up with her husband, her father-in-law, and Emily. Then you brought your group. That’s twelve people to feed and bunk up in this place. We were already pretty crowded with just the three of us. I-I mean, the two of us.”
“You said three.”
“I was married.”
“Was?” Foster questioned. “Is your wife gone?”
Emily stood up and began heading toward the living room.
“Are you leaving us already?” Foster sarcastically.
“Yeah, this is boring.”
“Okay, catch you later,” Foster said. He waited until the teenager was out of the room and then said, “You were telling me about your wife?”
“She met a guy on her job.”
“Left?”
“Yeah, about two weeks before all this shit went down.”
“Have you heard anything from her?”
“Nope. I'm not expecting to, either.”
“Why’s that?”
“She took our car and moved to DC with her new beau. Last time I heard, that place got overrun pretty quickly.”
“You’re probably right,” Foster said softly.
The kitchen door swung open, and Randy walked in. “Huh? You're still here?” he blurted out.
“Where else would you expect me to be?” Foster asked.
“No, I didn’t mean no harm by it,” Randy stammered. “I just figured you'd be out doing some kind of top-secret mission or something.”
“Well, I still might,” Foster said. “How did you and your family get here?”
“By their boat,” Gregory interrupted. “Sorry, I guess Randy should tell you himself.”
“Okay,” Foster said slowly as he drew out the word. “Randy, why don’t you tell me about it.”
“What do you mean?” Randy said.
“Your boat. How big is it?”
“Big enough.”
“Okay, let me ask a different way. How many people do you think you can fit on it?”
“Well, you guys gotta see her, ’cause she's a real beauty.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Foster said. He looked expectedly at Randy. “Could all of us fit on your boat?”
“How many people we got here?” Randy asked. “Ten?”
“Twelve,” Gregory corrected.
“Hmmmph. My boat is rated to hold ten people,” Randy said. “It might feel like we’re stacking lumber, but I think we can fit everybody on board. I’m just worried about it being too much weight in the boat.”
“Keep in mind, we do have two kids and three women in our group,” Foster said. “All of whom are smaller and weigh less than the rest of us.”
“Yep, that helps. Sleeping arrangements might be a little tricky,” Randy said. “Everybody couldn’t sleep at the same time.”
“So we rotate bunks.”
“I guess. We still have to worry about how much additional stuff we bring on the boat. I don’t want to find out what might happen if we have too much weight on the boat. But that's not even the biggest worry.”
“What's that?”
“Fuel. We’re definitely going to need it before we leave here.”
“Can we fuel at the marina?”
“I’m not sure. It was dark when we arrived. I saw some of those things near the marina pump. To be honest, I was more worried about keeping my family safe. I knew we couldn’t ask Gregory to come pick us up.”
Gregory flinched uncontrollably.
“Sorry man,” Randy stammered. “I didn’t mean to pull at an old wound. It’s just Lauren told me about your wife and-”
“It’s okay,” Gregory said softly. “You’re right. I didn’t have a way to come and get all of you.”
“Right,” Randy said quickly. “Anyways, we found an abandoned car and just hauled tail out of there.”
“You got lucky to find an available vehicle so close to marina.”
“It barely qualifies as a vehicle,” Randy quipped. “Thing had four bald tires, and one of them went flat on the way here. Had to limp the car here the last mile and a half. If God hadn't been looking out for us, we would’ve had a parade of Reapers following us to Gregory's doorstep.”
“Well, the good news is my group has three working vehicles that we came here in. Plenty of space for getting everybody in there and getting to the boat. But if you don't mind, I'd like to go with you and take a look at your boat.”
“Why?” Randy asked suspiciously. “We’re perfectly safe here.”
“For now,” Foster said. “We need to consider the fact your boat might be the best option for all of us to get someplace that is completely Reaper-free.”
“I doubt any place like that exists.”
“Sorry, I disagree,” Foster insisted. “I’ve heard from multiple sources they won’t cross large bodies of water. We get somewhere like an island or at sea, and we no longer have to worry about Reaper attacks.”
“Sounds interesting,” Randy said, “but you still didn’t tell me why you wanna go to the marina with me.”
“Mostly to check the area and see how many Reapers might be stopping us from fueling up at the marina itself. If it’s only a couple, then we might be able to eliminate them and fuel up at the marina.”
“It would be a lot easier,” Gregory pointed out. “Lugging fuel to the boat sounds like a serious headache.”
“Yeah, it would be,” Randy said softly.
“What kind of fuel does your boat need?” Foster asked.
“Gasoline. We can throw it in the tank and run it. Bad news is it takes a lot of it to run her.”
“How much fuel are we talking about?” Foster asked.
“My boat has an eighty-four-gallon tank.”
Gregory let out an appreciative whistle. “That's a lot of fuel. I sure hope we don’t have to haul it.”
“I agree. Fueling at the marina is definitely the way to go,” Foster said. “Gregory, I need you to think of an alternate place nearby to get fuel. A plan B, if we can’t get it at the marina?”
“Sure. There’s a number of gas stations in Rehoboth,” Gregory said. “Anything in particular you have in mind?”
“Yes. Some place that would be low-traffic,” Foster said. “A place only locals would likely use. That way, we’d be less likely to run into any large groups of people or Reapers there.”
“Yeah, I know of a station that would work. If you need it, let me know, and I’ll give you directions.”
“Great,” Foster said. “Randy, what kind of storage room do you have on your boat? How are you situated on food, water, medical supplies? Do you have any ammunition?”
“We have practically none of that stuff. I only have a few shells for my shotgun too,” Randy said glumly. “With those monsters running around, I sure wish we did.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ezekiel delivered another rousing sermon in front of what seemed like a packed chapel. The energy in the room seemed nearly contagious, and he drew strength from his flock’s adulation. He brought his sermon to a close, and his followers rose as one, clapping and cheering their leader’s gospel.
Ezekiel made what he thought was an appropriate gesture before exiting the stage. He couldn’t wait to get back to his private chambers. One of his guardians had recently found several unopened bottles of a high-end bourbon. He didn’t know where they had found it. He really didn’t care, either. For all intents and purposes, everything the Disciples owned was his. And right now, he couldn’t wait to enjoy a glass of the latest addition in his growing liquor collection. He quickened his pace, and his loyal assistant, Joseph, did the same.
As they reached the door of his private sanctuary, he heard Joseph say in a low voice, “I made sure your chambers were kept empty.”
“Thank you, Joseph,” Ezekiel
said. He stepped into his office, turned, and slowly closed the door. He waited until he heard Joseph’s footsteps fade away before he took a step toward his liquor cabinet. As he did, there was a loud noise behind him. Ezekiel immediately spun around and did an immediate double take. “You scared me,” he scolded.
Giles let out a low rumble that sounded like a laugh.
“What do you want?” Ezekiel demanded.
“We need to talk.”
“I'm not sure it's a good idea for the two of us to be seen together.”
“We’re the only ones in this room,” Giles replied. “Who’s going to see us?”
“That's not the point,” Ezekiel said. “You know when you first showed up, I almost didn't recognize you. Pretty amazing for two guys who grew up on the wrong side of town together.”
“And did time together, too,” Giles rumbled.
“That’s true, but you stuck with your life of crime,” Ezekiel continued. “Me, I found the Lord to help me create all of this.” He heard Giles let out a low rumble again. It was definitely a laugh, and Ezekiel felt a bit offended by his friend’s behavior.
“You found a con,” Giles countered. “A small group of sheep who were willing to get sucked into it. But then my kind showed up. And I’ve helped you add a lot more sheep since then.”
“I suppose that's one way to look at it. I do have a loyal flock that follows my every word,” Ezekiel said. “People who believe in my gospel. Heck, I've been able to convince them that you are protectors sent by God.”
“Like I said, you found a good con to pull and enough people who are dumb enough to fall for it.”
Ezekiel decided to change the subject. “We have a problem,” he said. “Some of my flock were attacked by your minions.”
“Not true.” Giles snarled. “None of my soldiers would dare to defy me.”
“It is true. One of my congregation was killed. The rest of his family had to be rescued by some other humans. Care to tell me what happened?”
Giles growled loudly. “It wasn’t my pack.”
“Are you telling me it was someone else? Someone that looks like you?”
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