The Zombies of Lancaster

by Frank Weltner

  "Good work, Wesley."

  "Ten four, Wesley said.

  "Don't forget me," Billie said through the radio. "I got one of them. I'm ready and willing to serve Jesus Christ as a productive and fertile Christian male as the lord has commanded of me. Same as my brother."

  "Ten four, my brother. It'll all go before the council, but you found them first and captured them, so you are going get them. I can assure you of that."

  In the back seat, the women were crying.

  "When in the world is all of this madness going to end?" Donna asked. "I'm wondering what's next."

  "They are going to rape us," Bertha said. "That's what's next. I know men like them. Love is never a part of their vocabulary."

  "Can I get back to sleep now?" Hilda asked.

  "Sure. You sleep. Your mom and grandma are going to talk some. You just need some deep sleep, so go for it."

  In the trunk, Sigurd was concerned about his mom and sister.

  "What are they going to do with us?" he asked his father.

  "Nothing," Fred told him. "Just go back to sleep."

  "Fuck sleep," Johannes said. "I'm going to kill these bastards with my bare hands."

  "You have my permission. Go for it. But make it happen, because if you just piss them off, its going to go very badlyF for you, I'm afraid."

  #

  The brothers, Bill and Wesley, sat across from the Council of White Christians. Their chained captives sat between them on secured chairs. The bill before the Council was exactly how the disposition of the captives should be decided and whether or not the two young men would be given all or part of them for their own use. The Council of White Christians could do what it wanted, and it often did.

  The Council itself contained not a single man or woman in a suit. Its eight members sat on the dais, a crudely raised platform. Their clothing was basically lower working class. Most of the men wore work pants and shirts, mostly covered with dirt and oil as though they had not been cleaned in at least several days. As a democracy, the Council thus seemed quite naturally to appeal to the very lower class Christians who had founded and controlled the reactionary city government apparatus. Whereas in the previous setting of America and the capitol in Washington, DC, most governmental offices were controlled for, by, and with the very rich elites. The representatives, senators, and president dressed in eight hundred dollar Armani suits reflecting the clothing of investors and bankers, thus betraying their own official betrayal of the far poorer American people themselves.

  The Council was different. It proved its closeness to the very people it represented by its working man's clothing. The people witnessing the Council must have felt secure in their new government, seeing as its clothing was exactly like their own. Thus, the Council was seen as being there only for the people in the working class and not for the rich and elite, at least not in Jesus Town.

  The Council called for a description of the goods in question which meant the entire Schneidholst family, i.e., Fredrick, Donna, Sigurd, Johannes, Hilda, and Bertha. Each was introduced by name and were told to stand when each was called and identified by the Council.

  "We are here to decide the fate of these captives in accordance with our laws," Council Member David Crawford stated. "Our reports have ascertained that Bill and Wesley Reynolds have captured these people and surrendered them to us for their final disposition and assignment. Wesley Reynolds has asked that Hilda, the youngest female, be assigned to him for breeding purposes including a totally Christian marriage so that his children themselves will be raised in accordance with Jesus Town's religious values and expectations. Billie Reynolds has asked the same for the middle aged woman. Are there any comments, observations, or objections?"

  At that, Fredrick raised his hand and was recognized.

  "I am the father of Sigurd, Johannes, and Hilda," he testified. I am also the legal husband of my wife Donna who is the mother of my three legal children. Bertha is my legal mother. I appeal under the laws of man and God that all of these persons be remanded to me under these sacred laws of God and man both and that we be allowed to continue on our journey outside of Jesus Town."

  Council Member David Crawford repeated the question and asked for comments.

  Bill Reynolds stood and was recognized.

  "The laws of Jesus Town and its white Christian government, state that anyone capturing or procuring breeders of white European background are entitled to own and marry them for purposes of procreating our race, religion, and posterity. Since there are not enough women in our nation for all of us to have one, and since I have legally captured and own these women along with my brother, Wesley, I asked that my rights to these people, including my right to marry them be respected."

  "Are there any questions or objections?"

  Fredrick stood again and repeated that he was legally married and that their vows repeated an often used phrase, "until death do us part," so that "anyone intruding on our relationship intrudes also upon the word of God and that such persons are in conflict with God and his laws and cannot enter into the gates of Heaven. So, I implore you abstain from interrupting our marriage which is sanctified by the law of God himself."

  "The husband has objected on the basis of human and divine laws. Are there any people with information on this matter?" David Crawford asked.

  "Does anyone else wish to speak?"

  "I do. My name is Hilda. Fredrick is my father, and Donna is my mother. May I speak?"

  "You may speak," David Crawford answered.

  "I love my parents. If you take them from me, my life will be ruined. So will my two brothers' lives be ruined."

  "Anyone else?"

  "My life would be ruined as my sister just said," Sigurd offered.

  "Mine, too," Johannes said.

  "Are there any more discussions on this matter?"

  "I have something to say," Council Member Richard Persons said.

  "You may speak," David Crawford said.

  "There is a method to correct these needs of both parties which would allow the laws of God and man to still be followed," Richard testified. "What needs to be done is for Fredrick to be executed as a threat to our society and our way of life. That way he will no longer be married to Donna. In addition, whoever is married to her will be able to adopt and assign these children to whomever he wishes, even for marriage."

  A gasp from the children and the audience ensued, causing the Council to demand silence. The room slowly calmed down.

  "Are there any other matters to be discussed before we vote?"

  No one stood. The children hugged their father and mother and tears streamed down their faces.

  "Is there a motion on this method?"

  “The motion has been made.”

  Grant Henson seconded the motion.

  "All those in favor of execution of Fredrick Schneidholst please raise their hands."

  All eight members of the Council raised their hands.

  "How about those in the audience who are here and witnessing these proceedings. Raise your hand if you are in favor of the execution."

  Almost all hands in the audience were raised.

  "Will the bailiffs carry out the instructions of the Council Members?"

  Four bailiffs came forward and removed Fredrick from the center of the building. His family cried, pleaded for reconsideration of the sentence, begged them for mercy, and tried whatever they could think of to intervene. Their effort was to no avail. Fredrick rose and walked with the bailiffs. He calmly turned and told his family to do whatever they had to do in order to stay alive and that he loved them. Then, he proceeded to leave the building bravely and with great dignity, as much as anyone so condemned could ever hope to muster. He stepped outside, and a minute later, a single shot was fired.

  #

  More than twenty townsmen gathered in town square for Donna's wedding. Her husband to be was Bill Reynolds. He was attended by his brother Wesley Reynolds his best man. Both were dressed in their t
ypical slovenly work clothes.

  "Do you take Bill Reynolds to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold until death do you part?" the White Power Minister asked Donna Schneidholst. She closed her eyes. So, it had come to this. The poor woman had no options, except to go through with the charade as Jesus Town's justice system had commanded her.

  "Yes," Donna said.

  "And do you, Bill Reynolds, swear to take Donna Schneidholst as your lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold until death do you part?"

  "I do," Bill said.

  "Then I pronounce the two of you as husband and wife. What God and nature hath joined together let no one break asunder for as long as they live. You may now kiss the bride."

  Bill smiled. He felt his lips kiss Donna. He had longed for a wife in which to place his white children, and Donna was perfect. She had proven herself to be a fertile woman who could and would bear him his white children. The town could thereby be preserved by this marriage as could the white race.

  That night in his trailer park, a party ensued. Other residents were jealous of Bill Reynolds, because most of the women had been slaughtered in the first stages of the Amish infection when no one even knew what was happening. Many were killed in the first hours when zombies showed up and began biting them. It took several days for people to even realize what had begun to happen to the new zombie world in which everything and everyone was either dead or running away and hiding.

  Donna had been heart broken. Her husband was dead, her children were placed in separate white racist homes, and all of them, Donna and Bertha included, were expected to convert to Jesus Town's version of Christianity which was the way almost all religious cults acted including Catholicism and Islam. Donna had to admit that Bill was not the worst human being in the world, but he was certainly not what Donna would have chosen as a life mate. He was politically incorrect, filled with rage against people who were non-white, and capable of committing great acts of evil. In fact, this marriage was just another menage of evil that Bill Reynolds and people like him had painted across parts of the facade of the world. It dirtied everything it touched. Bill was her husband. So Donna couldn't stop him as he entered her bed and performed his duties to aid the white race in its survival. His efforts at love making were tolerated but not appreciated, but she had to admit that he wasn't bad in the way he had done it. At least he was somewhat in shape. It could have been a lot worse.

  She woke up in the morning, bathed, cooked Bill's breakfast, and cleaned the entire house trailer top to bottom like a good little wife. Then, she got Bill's permission to leave and visit her children. They were having breakfast together in another trailer. The children were assigned to three adults in separate living areas, anything to bust up their family and realign their loyalties. Once a day, they spent an hour in religious and racialist discussions, and they were expected to be cooperative. If they weren't they feared things would not go well for them. They had wised up rapidly. What they'd witnessed when their father was killed by the Council had also done it's thing. Whatever the town and its leaders wanted, Fred's family would either do or pretend they would do. They simply wanted to survive, because their father told them to do that, but mostly because they could never forget that gunshot outside the courthouse which took his life.

  "How's it going, Johannes?" Donna asked. "I hope that you are being a good son to your new adopted parents." The idea sickened her. However, she desperately wanted to protect them. "Are you?"

  "Yes, momma."

  Donna smiled and kissed him.

  "How about you, Sigurd?"

  "Yes, mama. I'm doing everything they ask of me. Almost to a fault, if you will."

  She hugged him.

  "You were always a good boy."

  "Not always," he said.

  She smiled.

  "That's for sure. But you were still good. You were always all right by me, son."

  He kissed her.

  "I still love you. You can be sure of that."

  "Oh, I am!"

  She laughed.

  "We've had so many good times together, and we will again. We have breakfast together at least. That's better than nothing."

  Hilda smiled.

  "I am glad we get to do this in the mornings. My new mom says I can see my brothers in town whenever I'm out and about," Hilda told Donna.

  "Are you worried about Wesley? Don't be," Donna told her. "Do whatever he wants."

  "I know. It's just the way it is. After what they did to dad..."

  The room became quiet. She stopped dead to rights.

  "Sorry."

  After a few seconds, Donna tried to get the conversation positive again.

  "So what plans do you have today?"

  "I have to do some farm work," Sigurd said. "It's really hard."

  "I know. Times have changed. If we don't raise food, Sigurd, we'll all start starving soon. It has to be done. Don't resent it. Food is very necessary."

  "I miss Big Macs," Hilda said.

  "Me, too," Johannes said. "What I'd give for one right now."

  "With fries," Sigurd said.

  The kids were in their late teens, but each one still exhibited the mind of child in many ways, because their parents, being fairly backward in their own right, preferred to treat them like kids and not like young adults.

  It was ten o'clock. Their visitation time had expired.

  "Come and hug me," Donna said. "I love you all."

  They came by for a final squeeze, then skipped down the stairs and back to the homes where they now lived.

  Donna looked at Bertha.

  "How's it going, mom?" she asked.

  "About as good as to be expected."

  Bertha was not enamored of the new arrangement. Her son was dead. The family was scattered. The new religion was busy indoctrinating her grandchildren with racist nonsense, and the people in the town were far below the station she and the rest of the family would have chosen to live with.

  "It sucks," Donna said.

  She washed the dishes and left the trailer. She knew she had better get back home. Bill wanted to lay her down and place his sperm in her again. He said it felt good to him, and she figured from his facial features that it probably did. In addition, he wanted white babies. White babies were okay with Donna. It was one of the few things she had to look forward to, and she agreed that the world needed new kids to replace so many that were lost.

  She skipped through the downtown. Low class racists leaned against walls and trees smoking cigarettes and watching Donna's legs as she walked through Jesus Town. For a religious city, the men seemed overly interested in her body. She guessed that was just the way most men were whether in Lancaster, New York City, or here. Religion was just an excuse for people who enjoyed worshiping their dead zombie god named Jesus. It was no more unreal than many other lives in Pennsylvania had become. People were monkeys whether or not they were godly or agnostic. All men cared about was where their next lay was coming from.

  "Remember," Donna thought. "You are a married lady."

  Sure, it was disgusting, but the entire world had become as big a non-entity as Donna herself had become. Her heart was torn from the loss of her husband, her house, and her children, all of it coming nearly at once. These were difficult times to bear.

  "I have to remain calm and clear," Donna reminded herself. Her own survival and that of her children depended on it. "We are all slaves to these crazies," she thought. "Life is lower than in ancient Rome here," and Rome was about as low as a civilization got with its gladiators who were trained to kill each other. Her husband, Fred, had died just to entertain this city of white racist Christians. It was total nonsense. She had loved him so much, and now he was gone. The least she could do is carry out his final wish. "Do whateve
r you have to in order to survive." She had promised him in her mind that she would carry out his orders in that regard. Besides, his murder had unnerved her. These religious freaks were crazy enough to kill the rest of her family for any number of reasons. It didn't matter what, because they were a bunch of crazies.

  Up ahead, Donna heard a loud commotion. A herd of zombies surged here and there in jerky moves inside the streets. They had broken through somehow and were surging through the town. A siren started to wail. People went for their weapons. Out came the clubs, bats, and guns. The men with their Jesus Town tee shirts started to drift out into the street. On the backs of each of their redneck shirts was a cross with a halo over the left arm of the crucifix. It was lopsided, but the halo represented hope as well as despair.

  Huge loudspeakers on the lamp posts clicked on. A voice began to drone loudly over and over again in their ears:

  "Ladies and gentlemen, we are under martial law. The enemy is again inside our gates. Please arm yourselves and fight them with distinction, as I am sure you shall do. The future of our race depends on us winning each and every skirmish. Remember this. To the victor goeth the spoils. Give them hell, ladies and gentlemen! Give them hell!" The message repeated itself endlessly.

  The zombies continued ambling toward the Christian soldiers. Each zombie moved with its arms extended. Their deadly eyes looked straight forward from their ghostlike faces. Each zombie's deadly despair was enough to cause a slight panic in the eyes of the living. As the zombies neared them, the soldiers lifted their bats and began busting them against their skulls to kill them.

  "Clear! Clear!" they yelled as they dispatched them.

  Blood and chunks popped from the zombies. Many of them fell during the first few swings. After that, more went down. The soldiers were followed up by children, also yelling, "Clear!," as they finished them off with baseball bats. Some of these kids belonged to the families of the original defenders who had bashed the zombies in the head. The men appreciated their enthusiasm as the kids cleaned up the mayhem by stomping the brains of the zombies into the ground. Their young voices sounded proudly and triumphantly exhilarated as they yelled out the word, "Clear!" one by one as they moved forward past the damage they had inflicted on the helpless zombies. Even though a slave, Donna did her part. She had grabbed a two by four about three and a half feet long and punched out one zombie after the other with a certain mastery that she had learned in the chaos in what had once passed itself off as Lancaster, Pennsylvania but was now likely as not a partially burned out and ash strewn wreckage of its own deadly carcass dotted here and there with a few remaining wrecks of buildings atop the weeds. Soon, some of the men noted her prowess against the zombies.