by James Hunt
“I have heard the story and understand that mistakes were made on both sides.”
“That’s exactly why we should work this out. There’s no reason things have to get worse than they are,” the Sheriff said.
“I agree. Working together is the key. There is, however, one word that you’re forgetting, Sheriff.”
“What’s that?” the Sheriff asked curiously.
“Justice,” Sister Bonnie said. “I have families here that want justice for what happened to their loved ones.”
The Sheriff’s men moved in closer, feeling on edge. The Sheriff raised his hand up for them to back off. Jordan slipped closer behind the truck unsure of what was going on.
“I can understand the desire for justice. We’ve got a mother and two children without a father back at New Haven.”
“Your people attacked ours. We can forgive that.”
“Now wait just a minute—” the Sheriff began.
“We want to make an offer that will not only bring our groups together but allow your people to be a part of mankind’s new beginning.”
The Sheriff looked increasingly perplexed.
“I’m not really sure what you’re getting at.”
“I’m asking you to join the Seventh Order. If you swear allegiance, and become members, we will look past the assault on our people.”
One of the men in the Sheriff’s group let out a quick laugh in disbelief. Sister Bonnie ignored him and continued.
“We shall become one. New Haven will become a town for us all. With the loyalty and devotion of your people, I will ensure that they survive the apocalypse. All I ask is that you follow me, make me your leader, and accept the Seventh Order as the truth.”
The Sheriff looked at his group, then back to Sister Bonnie. He took off his hat and scratched his head. Jordan didn’t like what he was hearing. He was struck with a strange premonition that their visit had been a mistake.
“We appreciate the offer, but I was hoping we could reach an agreement through trade of goods or something like that,” the Sheriff said.
“Oh, I’m not finished, Sheriff. After your people join the Seventh Order, I would like the individuals responsible for the murders given to us so that we may seek proper punishment.”
The Sheriff looked around in confusion, then squarely to Sister Bonnie. He placed his Sheriff’s hat back on his head and his hands on his hips.
“I must say, I find your words a tad counterproductive. I’m going to give you another chance, and understand that there are other people’s lives on the line here.”
As Sister Bonnie thought to herself, the doors to the church opened and people poured out into the camp. Joey’s parents led from the front of the march. Sister Bonnie whipped her head around to Walter.
“Tell them to keep their distance. Do it dammit!” she scowled.
Walter backed away to prevent the crowd from getting too close.
“Sheriff,” Sister Bonnie said. “There is no other way. If there was, I would be open to it. My decisions, my words, they come from a higher power, of which I have no control. I am a vessel for the divine word. You look at my terms as irrational demands. I look at them as rewards. I’m offering your people a chance of survival. I’m offering them a chance to be a part of the new way.”
“We’re not interested, with all due respect. I’m sorry we couldn’t reach an agreement, but I think we’ll be leaving now.”
The crowd pushed past Walter, ignoring his pleas.
“Is that them?” Joey’s mother shouted. “Are those the bastards who killed my son?”
Anger spread over the crowd as they moved quickly past the tents to where Sister Bonnie was standing. The Sheriff signaled for his group to get into their trucks.
“Alright, let’s pack it up and hit the road,” he said. “And now here’s a final offer for you, Sister Bonnie. You stick to your side of town and we’ll stick to ours. Do not come near our town any longer. If you do, we will take the measures necessary to defend ourselves.”
The Seventh Order crowd drew closer.
“There they are!” Joey’s father shouted. “They’re trying to leave!”
The crowd roared with anger as they moved closer and closer to the Sheriff and his group. Sister Bonnie was all that stood between them.
“Look around you for anything to teach these murderers a lesson,” Joey’s father continued.
The crowd knelt to the ground and grabbed rocks, stones, and sticks in their shaking grips.
“Good day to you, ma’am,” the Sheriff said to Sister Bonnie with the tip of his hat.
“All is not lost,” she replied. “Doubt is a natural process. I’ll give you one day to think about it.”
“Not necessary. We would never consider such terms. Good day,” the Sheriff said as he walked to his truck.
Joey’s mom clutched a large stone in her hand, raised it into the air, and hurled it toward the Sheriff. It flew within inches of his face and hit the hood of his truck. He stopped immediately and looked around in surprise. Another stone came, and then another. A fever of anger and emotion ran through the crowd. Sister Bonnie turned to them in a fit of rage.
“I told you to stay in the church, now stop this foolishness, right now!” Sister Bonnie demanded.
The crowd ignored her and threw more stones at the Sheriff and his people. Jordan ducked completely behind the second truck as many of his group took cover. Walter ran to Sister Bonnie and pushed her out of the way of the incoming projectiles. She hit the ground with a force that knocked the wind out of her.
“Make them stop!” she shouted. “I had everything under control.”
“You bastards, I hope you rot in hell!” Joey’s father shouted as he threw a large stone into the windshield of the Sheriff’s truck.
There seemed to be no shortage of rocks and stones that the angry mob had found. The rocks dented the trucks, and the Sheriff’s group frantically maneuvered to avoid being struck. One man in the group attempted to get into the passenger seat of the second truck but was hit directly in the head with a rock. The blow sent him stumbling backwards causing him to hold his rifle in the air and fire. A jolting blast followed from the barrel sending a young woman to Sister Bonnie’s side instantly to the ground in a bloodied heap.
Her people flew to the dirt in fear as the scene grew more chaotic. Walter lay on top of Sister Bonnie holding her to the ground.
“Stay down,” he shouted. “They’re shooting at us.”
The Sheriff called to his men in a fit of anger, telling him to stop. “Everyone in the fucking trucks, now!” he shouted.
Harold and Terry stood in the wide-open completely shocked about what was happening. Within moments, Terry raised his rifle and fired back at the Sheriff’s group. Two of the Sheriff’s men hit the ground like ragdolls. Both Terry and Harold jumped behind two large oak trees for cover to avoid the incoming return fire. The situation spiraled beyond any measure of control. Harold joined Terry in firing upon the Sheriff’s group. As the Sheriff turned the key in the ignition, a bullet flew through the windshield and struck Alan in the next passenger seat. His head split open like a piece of fruit and his carcass limped to the side.
“Kill them all!” Walter yelled causing several of the people to rise from the ground and resume their stone throwing.
Harold and Terry fired their weapons repeatedly as both trucks roared away in reverse. Several bodies lay on the ground in their wake. Walter moved off of Sister Bonnie, and attempted to help her up. The surrounding people covered their ears as Terry and Harold unloaded their ammunition at the fleeing group. The trucks sped away into the dust. A tense and unusual quietness fell over the crowd, then shouts of anger followed as they surrounded the dead woman who had been shot. Sister Bonnie stood up and patted the dirt on her dress repeatedly.
“They tried to kill us,” Walter told her. “Did you see that?”
“My son!” a weeping woman shouted.
The crowd gathered aro
und her as she held her teenage son.
“They killed him. Murdered in cold blood!”
Cries of horror filled the crowd. Sister Bonnie ran over and pushed her way through. The boy had been struck with a bullet in the neck. His pale, lifeless body drooped in her mother’s arms. Sister Bonnie recoiled at the sight of the boy. She backed away then paced in a frenzied circle. Shouts of retribution and rage filled the crowd. They had suffered two more casualties at the hands of the outsiders, a young woman and a boy. Walter walked over to Sister Bonnie and spun her around.
“You see what these people are capable of? We have to take the town and we have to take it now.”
In response, she raised her hand in the air and smacked Walter across the face so hard that his hearing went out for a moment.
“You were supposed to listen to me and not make a move until instructed. Your insolence has surpassed anything I can imagine,” she said with clenched teeth.
“But—”
“But nothing. You’ve left me no choice. You are out of the Seventh Order. You have betrayed me. You have betrayed each and every one of us.”
Walter stood motionless in complete shock. The burning in his cheeks swelled. His anger shifted to crippling sadness and his eyes began to well with tears.
“What are you saying?” he asked.
“I’m saying that I’m excommunicating you. You cannot be trusted. You might as well be an outsider.”
“Sister Bonnie, please,” Walter said with his voice cracking. “I may have overreacted, but my loyalty has never been in question. I’ve always wanted the best for us. The best for the Seventh Order.”
“Give me your rifle,” she demanded with her hand out.
Walter stared back at her with deep hurt and confusion.
“Why?” he asked.
“Just do as I command!” she shouted.
Walter handed her the rifle slowly and with great uncertainty in his eyes.
“Just give me another chance, I won’t disobey you again. I promise.”
Sister Bonnie held the rifle in her hands, aimed at Walter and fired. His chest blew apart as he flew five feet into the air before rolling onto the ground. The cries from the mob ceased in a flash. They stood stunned and taken aback.
“I am not to be disobeyed. For ANY reason,” she told the crowd with the smoking rifle in her hand.
Terry and Harold stood from their crouched position behind the tree and walked over to Sister Bonnie.
“Walter disregarded my command, and as result, two of our members have perished. We are a family, yes. But if a member of our family lashes out at me, or fails to listen to me, I will not take it lightly.”
Terry looked to Walter’s contorted body lying in the tall grass.
“I want our dead buried, and then I want every able-bodied man and woman to prepare for an assault on New Haven to the likes of which no one has ever seen.”
Slowly the crowd went from shock and awe to approval. A small cheer started, followed by cries of revenge. Sister Bonnie raised her voice to speak over the crowd.
“I am your chosen leader, and it is I that will show you the way. The time for compromise is over. Brothers and sisters of the Seventh Order, it is time to fulfill our destiny and claim the town of New Haven as our own.”
Sister Bonnie pointed directly at Harold. “You will lead, and we will strike hard and will strike fast. We will put an end to the bloodshed of our people here and now. We will take the medicine back that they stole. And if there is one voice of dissent among our own, know that they will face the same fate as Walter. I will not see another command of mine disobeyed from here on out.”
Harold looked to Terry and Terry to Harold. Sister Bonnie continued. “Walter chose a different path, and with that path, there is a price to pay. I would implore that none of you make the same mistake.”
“I’m with you, Sister Bonnie,” Harold said. “We’re with you until the end.”
“Good. We don’t have a moment to spare. I want you to draw plans for an attack. It’s not the option I wanted. It’s not what any of us wanted. But we will honor our destiny and seize New Haven for our own.”
“Who shall I bring?” Harold asked.
“Everyone will be making the journey, men, women, and children alike. But not everyone will fight. Those who are trained in firearms, or any other weapon for that matter, will lead the assault.”
“Sister Bonnie, no, you can’t place yourself in such danger,” a man cried.
“Do not fret,” she answered. “I must see this through to its glorious end. Tell everyone to get packed and ready… We’re going to our new home.”
Chapter Thirteen
Prelude to War
The Sheriff’s group drove three miles down the road before they pulled over to the side and stopped. Dust and debris flew up from the Sheriff’s tires as he careened toward the side railing of the gravel road and slammed on his brakes. Jordan had been riding in the bed of the pickup truck with five other men. He hadn’t moved from the floor since receiving return fire from Sister Bonnie’s group. Both trucks were riddled with bullet holes and badly damaged from the stones that had been hurled at them. The Sheriff’s windshield was shattered into pieces. In his passenger seat, slumped over the dashboard was Alan. As the Sheriff looked at the unrecognizable corpse next to him, he immediately regretted bringing Alan along. He buried his face in his hands and turned off the engine. A cloud of dust engulfed both trucks from all sides.
“Sheriff, what are we going to do?” a woman named Joanne with short hair cried from the back seat.
The Sheriff looked up then pounded the dashboard with his fist. He kicked open his door and stumbled outside, where he was met by other confused members of his group. Jordan climbed out of the truck. There was still ringing in his ears. He patted himself thoroughly for wounds, and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t find any.
“Who’s here? I want a count of who’s here, and who’s missing or dead,” the Sheriff said, pacing around his truck in a lost state.
The driver of the other truck, a black man named Melvin, took the lead and counted everyone who was standing.
“I count fourteen of us, we lost six,” he said.
“Don’t forget about Alan. They got him while we were driving away,” the Sheriff said as he leaned against his truck, holding his side.
“Sheriff, you’ve been hit,” Joanne said.
Everyone looked and could see blood running down the Sheriff’s jeans from a wound he was covering on his side.
“I’ll be fine,” he replied. “So five were left behind who could be dead or dying, but we need to go back and get them.”
The group was quiet and unresponsive. The Sheriff’s plan seemed less than encouraging. Melvin was the first to speak.
“Going back there isn’t going to solve a damn thing right now. They’ll unload on us.”
“There has to be a way,” the Sheriff said.
“Right now, there isn’t,” Melvin continued.
“Dammit, we can’t just leave them there!” the Sheriff said as he punched the side of his truck.
Melvin approached him and spoke with calmness.
“We have to get back to New Haven. There’s a lot to consider right now. Things could get much, much worse and we need to make sure our people are prepared.”
The Sheriff thought for a moment and then looked on in agreement.
“You’re right. I just. I just don’t understand what happened back there. Thirty years with the police department and I’ve never seen anything like it. I need some of you to place Alan in the back of my truck. We’ll go back to town, and let everyone know what’s going on.”
“We got it, Sheriff,” Melvin said with an earnest tone.
Melvin signaled some men to move Alan’s body as everyone else went back to their trucks. The Sheriff climbed into the driver’s seat and closed his door. He looked into the rearview mirror where Joanne sat with two other dazed and shaken men. No o
ne wanted the front seat anymore.
“I’m making this promise to you now,” the Sheriff said. “We’re not burying any more bodies of our own after today. This is not going to happen again, I’ll see to that.”
Joanne thought the Sheriff desperately optimistic.
Paul and Julie sat in Tommy’s room while he ate a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Color had come back to his face and he looked ten times healthier than he looked before. Paul had apologized profusely to Tommy’s mother, Reba, and at first, she refused to let him back into their home, medicine hero or not. Eventually she gave in, and Paul felt that it was time to tell Tommy the same.
“I used to love getting sick, missing school, and lying in bed all day,” Tommy said shoveling a spoonful of hot soup into his mouth. “But without power or TV, getting sick is boring.”
“You could always read a book,” Julie said.
“I tried reading. My mom gave me The Wind and the Willows, but I kept falling asleep every time.”
Julie laughed. “I think it’s called The Wind IN the Willows,” she said.
“Whatever,” Tommy replied.
“Tommy, I’m glad to see that you’re feeling better, and I just wanted to… apologize for my behavior earlier, storming in your room like I did,” Paul said.
Tommy slurped the remainder of his soup from the bowl.
“It’s okay. Yeah, my mom called you a jerk, but I said you were probably okay. Maybe you just had a bad day or something.”
Paul laughed. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Tommy asked.
“The unknown, I guess. Someday you might see that you’ll do anything to protect the people you love.”
“Are you guys leaving?” Tommy asked with sadness in his voice.
“Soon, yes,” Paul said.
“Can you take me with you?” Tommy asked.
