by James Hunt
“What the hell happened to you?” he asked with shock.
Walter pushed past him as Harold and Terry followed.
“Where are the others?” Ralph asked following them.
Terry stopped, turned and placed a hand on Ralph’s shoulder.
“We ran into some trouble and need to talk to Sister Bonnie. Just stay here and make sure no one comes in.”
Ralph complied and walked back to the camp entrance as the three other men walked with quickened pace to the church.
“How do you know they were from New Haven?” Sister Bonnie asked from her desk.
A nearby lantern burned slowly as its flame lit up half her exhausted face, leaving the other half to shadow. She wore a large bathrobe and sipped water from a coffee mug as if reading a newspaper. It was true that she slept in the church, often using the office as her personal bedroom. She considered herself the church’s caretaker, thus affording the privilege of occupancy. The three remaining members of the tired scavenger group stood across from her, still recoiling in shock of what had happened at Walgreens.
“At first I didn’t notice, but they said they were from New Haven. One of them recognized me and I him. They said they had been here, to our camp. We’d given them a tour. They knew everything about us. There wasn’t enough medicine. I had to make the call. I—”
“Are you telling me that the very people who attacked you, the very same people who killed two of our members know exactly where we’re located?” Sister Bonnie interrupted as she rose from her seat.
Walter could feel her eyes staring like lasers. She was not happy.
“I take full responsibility for our actions. They weren’t supposed to get away,” Walter said calmly.
“But you let them,” Sister Bonnie said.
Walter hung his head down like an ashamed child. Sister Bonnie looked at Harold and Terry.
“Please leave us. I need to talk to Walter privately,” she said.
The two men nodded their heads in agreement and left the room.
“Make sure to get some rest,” Walter said to them.
“Will do,” Harold replied, as they stepped out of the room and shut the door.
Sister Bonnie approached Walter; mere inches from him. She swung her large arm and slapped Walter across the face with brute force. He stumbled back, holding his cheek. As he regained himself, he balled both his fists with growing rage. The stinging coupled with the pain of his broken nose brought him to a boiling point. Sister Bonnie got closer in his face, as if egging him on.
“Have you lost your mind?” she shouted. “How could you put our people in danger like this? You know we can’t trust outsiders. They’re a plague to be wiped out. All we had to do was to be patient and wait for it to happen as the prophecy states.”
She was so near Walter that he could feel the hot breath of her every word. He searched deep within himself for control. He felt pushed to lash out at her. It was a test of loyalty. He released his fists and took deep breaths, while trying to ignore the painful throbbing.
“Sister Bonnie,” he said.
“What?” she shouted.
“They came out of nowhere and attacked us. We had no choice but to retaliate.”
“What am I going to tell Joey’s family?” Sister Bonnie asked.
“We can’t allow panic to take over what we’ve built here.”
“We got one of theirs,” Walter stated proudly.
Sister Bonnie looked at him curiously. It seemed as if she was going to strike again, but just as Walter flinched, her arms rested downward.
“That is nothing to celebrate. We’re not murderers,” she said.
“It was in self-defense!” Walter pleaded.
“That’s no excuse. You should have been more careful. This was a needless incident. Our people are going to want to know why this happened. They’re going to ask if this was in the prophecy. And now we face an enemy that knows where we live.”
“I’m sorry if I let you down,” Walter said.
“Tell me that you at least got the supplies,” she said.
Walter didn’t respond. She walked away and sat at her desk, leaving him to awkwardly stand.
“They stole it from us,” Walter said.
Sister Bonnie grabbed a pencil and began to scribble onto her notepad.
“It’s tomorrow’s sermon,” she said, noticing Walter staring at her. “I’m going to explain everything the best I can. We’re going to bring a peaceful resolution to this… this horrible misunderstanding. I will reach out to the outsiders, offer a truce of sorts, and put this entire horrible mess behind us.”
Walter felt enraged. “With all due respect, Sister—”
“I’ve heard all I need from you, Walter,” she said, silencing him. “You probably want to ask me how such a thing could be possible. How I could possibly extend an olive branch to a group of murdering thieves. I will tell you that their fate is already sealed; it makes no difference to what degree we retaliate. We must be the better people.”
“They called us a cult,” Walter said.
“To some we are. They don’t know any better.”
“What do you want me to do?” Walter asked.
Sister Bonnie looked up from her notebook.
“Don’t say a thing to anyone. Keep everything quiet. Tell Harold and Terry to stay quiet as well. I don’t want a word of this to get out. Tomorrow morning, I will address our people and let them know what is going on, what danger we may be in, and what we can do about it.”
Walter walked closer to her desk. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“With what?” Sister Bonnie asked.
“Well, I mean I have a few ideas about how we can keep everyone safe.”
“That’s nice of you, but this falls directly on my shoulders. I am the leader of the Seventh Order, and must be its voice and guide.”
“Very well,” Walter said with a slight bow. “I’ll leave you to your work.”
“Thank you,” she said without looking up from her desk.
Walter turned to the door and was called back as he began to walk out.
“How do you think we can keep everyone safe?” she asked.
Walter spoke directly. “We wipe them out completely.”
Sister Bonnie was left in her shadowy office trying to pen a message to her people that would not only bring them together, but also put them at ease with the growing threat of the outsiders. She stared again at her husband’s framed portrait on her desk then dropped her pencil in frustration.
“What do I do, Phil? I’m trying to be righteous. I’m trying not to encourage bloodshed, but it’s not going to be easy.”
Phil started back at her with his stern expression.
“Yes, you’re right,” she said. “I do hate them. They’ve stolen from us and murdered two of our members. I have to admit that I do desire vengeance. It’s just, there has to be another way.”
Sister Bonnie rubbed the temples on her forehead then pulled open the desk drawer to her left. She visibly shook as sweat formed on her face. She dug through a drawer full of plastic prescription medicine bottles. Most of them were empty. Sister Bonnie had taken mood stabilizers for most of her life, but never as much as when her husband passed away. She was nearly to the end of her supply. She clutched onto one bottle as a single pill shook inside. She tore the cap open and downed the pill with a sip of water from her mug.
“Bastards,” she said. “They’re coming for us. I can feel it.”
She looked again to Phil for advice.
“You’re absolutely right,” she told him.
She lifted up his picture and gave it a quick kiss. After setting it carefully back down, Sister Bonnie looked down at her notebook. She pressed hard on the pencil and lined-out her opening title.
We must make peace with the outsiders.
Earlier that evening, Rob stopped the F250 at the entrance to New Haven. He held down on the horn until the gates were opened. Paul looked
at the familiar walls of the community and felt oddly at home. He had seen and heard enough to know that venturing out in the world was a high risk, though it was still not going to keep him from Samantha. The gates were opened by two men acting as gate guards, and they immediately moved out of the way so the truck could pass.
“Let’s try not to create a panic,” David told everyone. “We need to talk to the Sheriff first, then Ryan’s family.”
There was agreement among everyone in the car.
“You okay with that, Paul?” David asked.
“What does it matter what I think about any of this?” he asked as he exited the truck.
David, Rob, and Carlie looked at each other. Paul immediately walked toward the townhouse.
“Make sure no one sees Ryan’s body,” David said.
Paul carried his backpack full of supplies, considering his debt long paid. In what felt like a stroke of luck, Paul saw the Sheriff walking toward him on the sidewalk. Rob and the others placed a tarp over the bed of the truck and then walked to join Paul. Paul waved his arm in the air, and the Sheriff waved back. As they met, the Sheriff took immediate notice of the blood all over Paul’s shirt.
“My gracious, are you okay?”
Paul threw his backpack to the ground in anger.
“I’m fine, Sheriff. I got pretty damn lucky. Now I think I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. I want a car, and I want it tonight. I don’t want it tomorrow morning. I don’t want it in three days. I want it fucking now. I’m going to get my daughter, and we’re going to get out of this town before one of us ends up shot or dead.”
Silence followed Paul’s rant. The Sheriff gave him a curious look. Perhaps he crossed the line. Perhaps he hadn’t gone far enough.
“I can see that you’re frustrated,” The Sheriff said with a guarded tone.
“You’re damn right. That little expedition nearly got us killed and for what?” Paul shouted, throwing up his arms. “A few bottles of fucking NyQuil?
Rob and the rest of the group caught up, catching the tail end of Paul’s outburst.
“Calm down, Paul,” Rob said, slightly pushing him away from the Sheriff.
“I’m perfectly okay, Rob. I just want the vehicle the Sheriff promised me. Right, Sheriff? Are you going to make good on your word?”
“Alright that’s enough. We have a lot of other things to deal with right now,” Rob said while holding Paul back.
“That’s why I don’t want to wait any longer. How about it, Sheriff?” Paul asked with his voice raised.
Rob got directly into Paul’s face, blocking his view of the Sheriff.
“There’s a dead man in our truck. A man who has lived here for the past fourteen years. A man with a family who will never see him again. That is what we’re dealing with, on top of retaliation by that crazy cult. You think you can drop your whining for a moment here and let us concentrate on what’s important right now?”
Rob’s comments took Paul by surprise, and he was at a loss for words. He felt defensive as if Rob was being unfairly harsh on him. He only wanted what he had been promised. What did Rob know or care? He had his wife with him and couldn’t possibly understand what Paul was going through.
“Fuck you,” Paul said defiantly.
He was met with a quick and forceful push by Rob that sent him stumbling over the sidewalk. He found his footing by sheer adrenaline and went charging after Rob with his fist in the air.
“No!” Carlie screamed.
Paul swung, but Rob ducked and struck him in the gut with a quick blow. Paul fell to his knees in agony, gasping for air. Rob stood over him, shaking his head.
“That’s enough,” the Sheriff said. “I want to know everything that’s happened.”
“Looks like we lost the wrong one,” Rob stated coldly while looking down at Paul.
“Everyone to the operations center, now,” the Sheriff said. The group walked away, leaving the Sheriff standing with Paul.
“You come speak to me once you’ve calmed down,” he said.
Paul leaned forward on his knees with one arm, holding his stomach with the other. The Sheriff walked away soon after, leaving him to his thoughts.
The group sat around a circular table in the otherwise empty room. Maps were on the wall, radios rested on tables and no one else was around.
“My God,” the Sheriff said, holding his face in his hands. “This is terrible.”
“I know. It was completely unexpected,” Rob said.
“I can’t even believe it. It’s like it didn’t really happen. I don’t know,” Carlie said while sniffling.
“We should have a memorial service as soon as possible. Tell everyone that Ryan died a hero, trying to get the supplies we need,” David said.
“First, we need to get the medicine to the right people. We almost lost a child today,” the Sheriff said.
The group gasped.
“Who was it?” Carlie asked.
“Reba’s boy, Tommy. His fever was over a hundred degrees. Margie was able to get him back down to normal.”
“Thank God he’s okay, looks like we got here just in time,” she said.
“There’s many things we have to consider now,” the Sheriff said.
“You told me that they held you at gun point and that you’re certain they were going to kill you.”
“Without a doubt,” David said. “I tackled their leader when he told one of his guys to take us in another room.”
The Sheriff ran both his hands nervously through his silver hair. “I just don’t understand it. Why would they do such a thing?
“Because they’re fucking crazy,” Rob added.
“We know that, Rob,” David said. “Whether they’re crazy or not, they have weapons, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they come here trying to start trouble. After everything, they came away empty-handed, and they’re probably plenty pissed.”
“Good. I say bring it on,” Carlie added.
“What are they going to do, attack us? They’d have to be out of their minds to try something like that,” Rob said.
“We need to talk with that woman. What’s her name? Sister Bonnie. We take a vehicle over there, offer a truce, and try to find a way around this,” the Sheriff said.
“They belong in prison. This is still a nation of laws, am I correct?” David said.
“Frankly, I don’t know what kind of nation it is anymore. We just need to contain this before it gets out of hand,” the Sheriff said.
The door to the room creaked open, revealing Paul. He felt uncomfortable showing his face near them, but apologetic at the same time. Rob peaked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes to Paul’s presence.
“You doing okay?” the Sheriff asked him.
“Yeah. I just wanted to tell everyone that I’m sorry that I overreacted. I think we’ve all been through a lot and—”
“It’s cool, Paul,” David said. “Have a seat and join the discussion.”
Paul made his way over to the table, pulled up a chair, and sat.
“Are we good?” he asked Rob.
Rob took a moment, but answered.
“Yeah man. I think we’re all going a little crazy here like you said.”
“Just to let you in on the news,” the Sheriff said, “I plan to talk with the town council and arrange a trip to the church. We can try to work this thing out.”
“And what if they don’t go for it?” Paul asked. “They were prepared to kill us over some medicine.”
“If they agree to a truce, good. If they don’t, we’ll have to build up our defenses and be ready.”
A silence came over the room. The Sheriff continued.
“We’ll bury Ryan tomorrow and make sure his family is comforted. Then we try to squash this thing, immediately.”
It was early morning when the members of the Seventh Order filled the church following a summons to hear Sister Bonnie’s latest sermon. Walter did his best to keep the news under wraps and implored Harold and Terr
y to keep their mouths shut, even when confronted by Joey’s family asking them about their son. Walter took them aside and told them that they would receive all the answers they needed soon. It wasn’t good enough, so they hounded Walter. He brought them to Sister Bonnie who had looked refreshed from her earlier state that evening.
She talked with Joey’s mother and father for ten minutes then led them into the church as they wiped their eyes of tears. It appeared she had told them the news. Sister Bonnie led them to the front pew and asked that they sit. She felt for her notes in the pocket of her brown one-piece dress. Its bottom touched the floor and dragged along the carpet as she walked. She took a sip from her bottle of water and then took the podium. A packed room of her devoted followers hungered for words and guidance. Walter watched from the back of the room uncertain if the path toward peace was a wise one. He had grumbled to Harold and Terry about what Sister Bonnie was going to propose, and they agreed that they might have to enact revenge on New Haven without the approval of their leader. Insolence was in the air.
The room went quiet as she stepped to the podium. She pulled her folded notes from her pocket and prepared to speak. She usually started her services with a brief prayer. That morning was no exception.
“Let us pray,” she said.
The heads in the audience drooped down as Sister Bonnie said a prayer about gaining the will and the way of their decisions.
“Amen,” she said.
The congregation repeated her in unison. She then moved on to the pressing matter before them.
“Good morning, wonderful followers of the Seventh Order.”
They repeated “good morning Sister Bonnie” in unison as she glanced to her notes and then back to her audience.
“We are a family. Our time here living within limited means has been a difficult and challenging period. None of you have complained. None of you have asked for more than required. We have all worked together to live, to survive, and to reach our fulfilled destiny. You have allowed me to be your divine messenger as I’ve been given the answers of what we must do. And when I spoke of the coming apocalypse, many people thought I spoke without reason or knowledge. Many of them left. But you remained. And then, as you remained, as we set up a place where we can live among each other away from the evils of the world, we have discovered that millions of people have in fact perished in man’s inevitable destruction. This is a necessary course for the renewal, much in the way Noah received warning of the coming flood and a new age that followed. I never doubted the divine word in the way you never doubted me as your leader.”
