Threat Ascendant

by Brian M. Switzer

  He blanched and went rigid, and tried to stammer a reply.

  She increased the pressure on the blade; a trickle of blood appeared beneath it. "Ah ah ah. Remember- yes ma'am or no ma'am." She held the knife in place another moment, then withdrew it and stepped back.

  The supervisor made a half-turn away from the window. His lower lip quivered and he wiped a sheen of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Yes ma'am you'll take care of it as I asked?"

  He bowed his head in submission. "Yes, ma'am."

  The work was finished to her specifications and ahead of schedule. And if that meant less fuel for her followers? Well, that was a benefit of being Queen, wasn't it?

  She took her stage that night resplendent in a black sequined dress that ended a respectable distance above her knees and showed just a hint — a promise, really — of cleavage. Her blonde hair was worn up and a pair of diamond chip earrings called attention to her delicate neck and bare shoulders.

  She looked at her followers. She had never seen them like this, together one place. Everyone was there, bundled against the chilly night air, except those with young children, those on guard duty, and those patrolling the fence.

  The sanctuary wasn't large enough to accommodate the crowd even if she yanked out the chairs and had them stand shoulder to shoulder. It took four church services on Sunday morning to create enough room for everyone to attend (attendance was mandatory). Thankfully, she only preached one of the four- the third, which made it the most popular and crowded.

  She couldn't help but marvel at the crowd. They were her army, her fist, her shield and sword. They needed their beloved Queen to tell them what to do and why to do it.

  She spoke.

  35

  * * *

  "I love you," she called to the crowd, her southern accent more pronounced than normal.

  Their response was resounding. Choruses of ‘We love you too’, ‘I love Queen Kayla’, ‘Long live the Queen’, and ‘You! You! You!’ rolled through the night air.

  "We're a family, always have been. We love one another, tend to one another, watch over our neighbors and take care of our own. When one of you hurts, I bleed. When you suffer, I suffer with you. And when we lose a family member… folks, I share your grief and shed my tears with yours."

  She paused and paced the stage with her head down and her lips pursed as if lost in thought. "When one of you is threatened, I feel that threat like a dagger in my heart. Jesus said not one sparrow will fall to the ground outside his Father's care. Likewise, if just one of you is threatened I will rise up, take you in my arms, and respond to that threat." That was about as much as she could bastardize the book of Matthew and still be in the Bible, but that was okay; she wasn’t here for a theology debate.

  "When the demons rose, so many of us responded by coming to this glorious place we know and love. We welcomed anyone that showed up at our gate and we built a community based on love, mutual respect, and everyone pitching in. And it's worked. We've strived to live in peace and harmony and do no harm. And it's worked. Do you feel it's worked?" She stopped and let them answer with a roar of yes. Applause cascaded into a crescendo, and the crowd hollered and raised their hands in praise. She let them carry on for thirty seconds before she held up a hand to quiet them.

  "All that changed a month ago, when a man rose in the east, like Beelzebub. He sent word that he had a group of his own and wanted to talk with us about trade, and we set a meeting. But he didn't want to trade with us.

  "Even though his community has a place of their own, a place safer and easier to protect than ours, it wasn't enough. They want what we have." She pointed a red nail at a person in the crowd. "Terry Peterson- they want what you have. Carla- the same goes for you. And you, Elizabeth, and you, Mark. They want to take what is ours, what we built here. And he said…" She stopped and looked down, her chest heaving, unable to contain her emotions. She listened to angry murmurs and muttered threats while she dabbed at nonexistent tears.

  "I'm sorry, this is so upsetting." Her voice cracked, and she took several ragged breaths. "This man, who I am convinced was sent by the devil, threatened us. He said his people would kill all of you and me, and blow up our precious church." The crowd answered with a blast of anger; they bellowed their disapproval, shouted threats and curses, and cried out in dismay.

  "I'll be truthful with you- I would have killed him on the spot, but as he spoke, his men put their guns to my head." The crowd throbbed with rage. She let them vent, then quieted them again.

  "So instead, I did what any responsible leader would do. I met with my Councilors and I prayed to God for direction. I fasted for four days while I searched the Bible and prayed for guidance. And every time I asked God what I should do, his answer was the same. Do unto others before they do unto you.

  "I have to confess, folks, I didn't know what God meant by that. I searched and searched my Bible and couldn't find the answer. After my fast, I stood before the Council and told them of God's word, and my own lack of understanding. One of them looked me in the eye and said ‘Pastor, quit being a coward. You know full well what God is telling you, but it scares you, so you pretend not to understand’." Behind her at the rear of the stage, her most important aids sat in a row. Someone back there sniggered loudly. Only Magnus had the nerve to do that, no doubt laughing at the idea of anyone calling her a coward and living.

  She ignored him and continued. "I sat in my office, opened my Bible and saw I'd opened it to Joshua and the Battle of Jericho. I opened to a new page and saw David defeating the Philistines. Judah defeating Israel. Necho defeating the Babylonians. Again and again, God showed me his people defeating evil in His name. 'Why, Lord? Why must we fight?’ I cried. The Lord showed me why."

  She put her hand to her throat and sniffled, squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head. She let one soft and heartfelt sob escape and looked back up at her crowd. "He showed me that man and his people walking our beautiful grounds, shooting our unarmed friends as they begged for their lives. He showed me people, filthy, disgusting people, in our wonderful sanctuary. Fornicating and making human sacrifices and praying to the dark one from our altar. He showed me our people in bondage, men forced to do his work, women and young girls used as sex slaves. God told me this and worse is what will come to pass if we don't do unto others before they can do unto us." The crowd was quiet now, but not a contemplative quiet. Their horror showed on their faces. Their shoulders slumped and their heads bowed; many leaned on their neighbors for support. She had broken them. She moved in for the kill. "The Lord showed me," her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands for a long moment. "He showed me my head on a pike while those evil men did unspeakable things to it." She paused a moment and let that visual kick in for them, grinning to herself the whole time. There was no more fear, no more anguish in the crowd; their faces showed pure, unadulterated rage.

  "I'm ashamed to say I still hesitated. I prayed for guidance and God showed me what he has in store for us. That man and his people live in luxurious tunnels deep under the ground- huge mining shafts big enough to hold tens of thousands. They don't even need this land. They are coming to kill us and take it because they are evil and they know we represent the will of God on this Earth.“

  Her voice took on a steely tone and her eyes blazed. "No more! Not one more good Christian under my rule will be murdered at the hands of those who commit evil. It's not enough that the dark one opened the gates of hell and let loose his demons on the land. Millions dead while God watched and wept. And now evil men come to kill us and take what is ours? I say no! No! No!“

  They took up the chant, roaring back at her and shaking their fists, their features masks of fury. She chanted with them, raising her hands in praise as the rhythmic incantation grew louder. They stopped their feet and clapped their hands and their arms pistoned toward the sky with each r
efusal. She egged them on with a raise the roof gesture and yelled her loudest so her voice rose above the din.

  "In three days, I will obey the word of God and follow in the footsteps of David, Joseph, and Abraham. I will lead a mighty army as it marches across town, invades their tunnels, and does unto them before they can do to us. As your pastor, I ask you each and every one to follow God's command and join that army as it lays waste to those who practice evil. As your Queen, I command that you take part in this mighty effort to keep righteousness and freedom as our way of life and protect what we fought so hard to build. Fight! Fight! Fight!"

  They went plum crazy. They screamed and bellowed. Spittle flew from their lips and drool ran down their chins. Fights broke out as men and women wound up past the red line bumped into one another. If Will or one of his lackeys wandered onto the grounds just then they would rip him to shreds.

  She turned and looked at her row of advisors as they screamed and kicked just like the crowd- either genuinely caught up in the moment or faking it for their own safety. All except Magnus. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, beaming at the crowd and wearing a crooked grin. She caught his eye and motioned him to come stand with her.

  He stepped forward and bent to speaking to her ear. She held up a finger for him to wait and reached her arm around to turn off the receiver. It wouldn't do for his words to boom out of the speakers.

  He nodded and paused, his eyes fixed on hers, his indolent grin never wavering.

  She smiled and tilted an ear in his direction.

  "Nice job," his gravelly voice boomed.

  She was about to thank him but he continued.

  "Hitler couldn't have done it better."

  36

  * * *

  The following morning found Magnus grumpy, nursing a mild hangover and guzzling black coffee.

  He wore a leather jacket over a white T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He had showered and shaved before leaving his converted apartment in the vestibule of the church. (No old-fashioned bucket shower for the high echelon at GLOW. One of his first jobs was to get the water flowing again).

  He surveyed the seventeen men and three women in front of him. They sat in a scattered and irregular clump on a set of risers a stone’s throw from the church. They were an eclectic bunch. With a few exceptions, they were lean and wiry, with ropey muscles and hard hearts. Their ages ranged from 18 to 53. Most of the men were unkempt, with scruffy facial hair, dirty clothes, and teeth stained brown and yellow. Many had long, greasy hair pulled back in ponytails. This was Magnus' crew, his A-Team, the people he counted on to get things done. In return for making him look good, they got extra rations, better weapons, and freedom. Freedom to come and go as they pleased, freedom from the work crews, and freedom from following most of the rules. The only ones they followed were his- do what I tell you, be courteous and respectful to Kayla, no hard drugs, and don't prey on others in the community.

  Because make no mistake, they were predators. They were murderers and thieves, rapists and abusers. Most were career criminals before the outbreak, and those with legitimate jobs were always on the lookout for an easy score. They were hard men and women who would no more hesitate to kill a man than they would to step on a bug on the sidewalk.

  And they were fanatically loyal to Magnus. They had gathered this morning to go over the plan of attack one last time.

  He took a pull from a cup with huge plastic breasts glued to the top and winced. The coffee was no longer piping hot. He dumped the remainder in the grass and handed the cup to the nearest woman. "Freshen that up," he commanded. He chewed three extra strength Tylenol and massaged his temples while he waited for her to return.

  A pair of men in Kayla's personal guard strode by, resplendent in their blue suits and fresh-shaved faces. His men sniggered and elbowed each other, pointing at the pair as they hurried past. His men looked down on the guardsman as lick-spittles and shirkers with delusions of grandeur; men who would rather put on a pretty uniform and stand at attention than go out and get their hands dirty. Kayla's guard considered Magnus's crew slovenly brutes who gravitated to his command because they were bullies and didn't like being told what to do. The people in both units considered their own to be superior, and the two sides grated against each other. There had been several scuffles and skirmishes but never a serious clash. Magnus thought that was a good thing- if it did ever devolve into combat, Kayla would need new guards.

  His coffee runner returned and handed him his titty cup. It was steaming hot and strong; he took a long, slow sip and clutched the mug between his gloved hands. He cleared his throat; his crew sat up a little straighter and the murmur of voices softened and then stopped.

  He gave them a laconic smile. "We've been over this a dozen fucking times, so let's do a quick review to make sure everyone understands our role." He scanned their faces to make sure nobody was mentally checked out. Satisfied, he continued. "There are twenty of you. You each have ten people under your command; that is your unit. Spend time with them, try to build up some trust. When you give them a job to do I’d prefer they do it out of respect instead of the fear of death.” He snickered. “There’s no question you are a scary bunch of motherfuckers. Just look at you. But shit, makes friends with them. Teach them to shoot. Assuage their fears. When the big day comes they’ll follow your commands if you treat them right over these next few days.”

  A short, hairy man in a dirty black duster cupped his hands around his mouth and spoke in a stage whisper. “What we can’t do is go over battle plans with them, because we don’t know what the fucking battle plans are.” There were a few nervous chuckles and a loud guffaw from the others.

  Magnus gave him a baleful look and continued. "Ideally, we show up in three days to an empty quarry- they've done the smart thing and bugged out, leaving the caves to us. But if there is a battle, your units are the vanguard. The kid said they have about 100 fighting age men. At the very worst, we’ll go up against a force half our size. They are poorly armed and have little ammunition. If they set up and shoot it out with us, we should be able to handle them in a quick and efficient manner.

  "If we take losses somehow, or if they hide back in those tunnels and make us come find them, that's where the other folks come in. We'll use them for cannon fodder until the bad guys run out of ammo. And then we will run in and mop up."

  The man in the black duster broke in with the question. "I don't understand why every man in the place is going over there. Why not let us take a hundred men and search out those caves? If anybody is inside, we fuck ‘em up. End of story."

  Magnus glared at the man. He answered and a low, angry voice they got louder and more dangerous as he spoke. "God dammit Petey, do you know how much I hate it when you interrupt me? Do you know how fucking rude that is? It comes across, Petey, like what I say is unimportant, or at least not as important as what you have to say. Is that how you feel, Petey? Is it?" His face and neck had flushed a dangerous-looking purple and his tone was harsh and clipped.

  Petey went pale and answered without meeting Magnus' eyes. "No, sir. I do not feel that way and I apologize for acting as if I do. I spoke out of turn, and I'm sorry."

  Magnus glared at him, his chest heaving. Over the next thirty seconds he got a handle on his temper. His breathing slowed, and his eyes lost their murderous glean. He let out one more big breath of air and smiled. "The answers your question is because that is how Kayla wants it. She wants people in their houses huddling in fear and peeking out their windows as we march by. If anybody in the caves hasn't run off, she wants them to see the size the force against them and immediately surrender.

  "Speaking of surrender- if anyone throws down their weapon and asked for mercy it will be granted. She'll kill their asses later, but she wants to debrief them first. There are also two guys she wants a word with if possible. Some poor fool named Will is their leader, and after the way she whipped folks up las
t night, I'm sure he's in for some major torture before we’re through. It'll give the minions a little revenge for getting so scared and mad. His guys held guns to her head, so he’s gotta pay.” Magnus snickered and rolled his eyes.

  "I cannot stress how important this next item is. Does everybody remember what the kid looked like, the guy we nabbed and brought over here for a few days?”

  The crew nodded and murmured they remembered.

  “No matter what else happens, Kayla wants him alive. Like she hasn’t wanted anything in a long time, guys. If he's there, and if he gets shot, I cannot protect the shooter. You'd better have thirty people ready to swear it was self-defense, an either-him-or-you situation. And even then, she still may feed you to the dead. Make sure you don't shoot the kid."

  He knelt down and brushed at a patch of bare earth until it was clear of rocks and debris and then drew a long curved line in the dirt. "Again- this is the road to the bottom. Unfortunately, it's the only way in, so the whole column has to march down it." He pointed to a thickset blonde with a receding hairline and an unlit cigar jammed into the corner of his mouth. "Carl- your guys are in charge of coverage against the dead during the march over. We’ll attract a shit-ton of them, and it's important that you put them down as they appear. If a hundred biters are chomping at our backside while we’re lined up and waiting to march down the hill it could screw the whole pooch. If people start to panic, we could end up with hundreds of them running away. Jeff Avude put together a force of fifty minions to help you, but I expect a lot of them to get bit. You guys are in charge."