by James, Jill
He stared at his big hands. Was it a blessing they were strong enough to end her life quickly or a curse that he could do it at all?
Tears blurred his vision until the big yellow school bus was close enough to see even through the wetness.
***
An enormous black man stood in front of the bus as the driver hit the door release and Billy Joe Bennett hopped out. The man was built like a football linebacker. What diversity he would add to the new, better gene pool. He could rise up a holy army with him as breeding stock.
He slid to a stop as four guns and a rifle came up and pointed at him. His breath caught at the one female in the group. He would love to add her to the congregation. She looked like a Barbie doll, but the glare and the steady gun looked like Special Forces Jane. This was no meek lamb led to the slaughter. She’d be one of those women you beat to death and she’d still curse you to her dying breath.
One of the men held a hand up. The others relaxed slightly, but left the guns pointed in his direction. His bearing screamed former military. The man put his gun in a holster and stepped forward.
“Hi, I’m Paul Luther. We were just cleaning out this church. What brings you this way?”
Like a good televangelist, Billy Joe could assess a situation quickly and bring the right persona to the table, from humble and begging for money for the poor to ranting and screaming of the coming of End of Days. One truck, five people, no permanence to the church location. They were a smaller group, part of a larger one. He may outnumber them, he may not, but until he got more details, he was going with honest for this encounter. Or as honest as he got.
“We saw the smoke from the highway. We’re looking for a location to set up our church. When we saw this building, it was like God spoke to me. Told me, ‘you’re home.’ But we will move on if you have claimed this place first.”
Luther shook his head. “No, we were just killing some skinbags. We have a location further down the road a way.”
The brown eyes glinted hard as the man kept his cards close to the chest and gave nothing away. Billy Joe pulled out all the charm he was capable of. He reached and shook the man’s hand between his two.
“I’m Reverend Billy Joe Bennett. But you can just call me Billy Joe. We would love to use this wonderful church, if no one minds.”
The man swung his hand and the others moved forward. “This is my wife, Suz Logan and this is my husband, Josh Logan.”
His disgust must have shown on his face as Luther’s face twisted into a calm rage he held in check. Billy held his hands up in front of him. “Hey, I do not wish to impose my morals onto others, unless they wish them. But this is why the old world has fallen. We are all in sin. Some more than others. This new world demands we live the way the Bible has told us to live.” This group is steeped in sin. This is why the world fell. I will cleanse them, one way or another.
“You can keep your morals and your Bible. This new world is what we make of it,” the man said, hatred glaring in his eyes.
“This is Seth Ripley and this big guy is Teddy Ridgewood,” Luther finished up in a harsh tone and spread his arms. “The building is yours. Nothing left inside, but you might want to repair the fence to keep out the skinbags.”
“No need,” Billy said as he smiled. “What others are calling zombies and other wicked, uninformed names, we believe are the Resurrected. They will protect us. The Bible has told us so. Did it not say the dead would rise?”
Luther shook his head. “Whatever. We are down that road over there. I’ll tell Commander Jack Canida about your group. I’m sure he will visit you soon, if that is okay?”
Billy kept his smile plastered on his face. “We have nothing to hide. We will count it as a blessing to greet your Commander Canida and look forward to his visit. Perhaps we can visit your group as well?”
Luther stood still as a statue, anger radiating off of him like heat from a furnace. “That will be between you and Jack.”
As soon as the truck headed down the road and passed out of sight, Billy turned and yelled to the bus. “Roberta, get your ass down here, right now.”
His wife jumped from the vehicle and ran to his side. Her head bowed as she stood there. He made her wait, the tremors in her shoulders an erotic sight better than total nudity of her more than forty years, overweight and sagging body. Walking behind her, he breathed on her neck. Her body twitched. The beating last night had proved women need discipline. He should have started sooner. He would be sure to beat her regularly.
“Go into the building and make sure it is safe for me to enter. See that it is suitable for our and God’s purposes.”
“But—,” she stuttered and stopped.
He leaned closer and bit her neck until he tasted the salty, coppery blood. A whimper escaped her split lips. “Don’t make me ask again.”
She ran, tripping over her feet to the open door.
He licked his lips, tasted warm blood, and grinned.
He paced as he waited for her report. Not that it mattered. This would be their new home no matter what she found. His glance turned to the road the truck took.
They would be friendly. They would trade goods and services. They would show they were to be trusted, to be allies. And then ...
The cleansings would begin.
Chapter Six
Rule #3 Men aren’t the simple creatures we think they are. Some have depth and layers and a way to worm their way through your carefully built walls. Always be on guard, walls are there for a reason.
Michelle stood on the scaffolding at the front gate. Dylan jumped up and down as the blue pickup truck came down the road. She put her hand on his shaking shoulder. “Please stop that. I don’t want to have you break an arm or leg.”
“Fine,” he muttered, still hoping from foot to foot.
As the truck reached the red line on the road, they slowed and gave two short beeps and one long one of the horn. She took a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as the tightness in her chest eased. The signal let the compound know they were friendlies and they could safely open the gate.
Teddy jumped out of the bed of the truck as soon as it braked to a stop in front of the compound. For an instance, he wore a serious look on his face. His gaze shot upward to her and Dylan on the wall and a smile appeared. Like a mask, it covered the sadness she had been sure she saw in his eyes just a second before.
The gate slid open silently on well-oiled tracks. Dylan rushed down the stairs and ran to the big man. Teddy scooped him up and threw him in the air. The child’s laughter floated on the air. Michelle walked down the stairs and halted to a stop in front of the man with the boy in his arms.
“How did it go?”
For a second, the smile slipped and she felt she saw the real man behind the fake grin he showed everyone. All too soon it was plastered on his face again.
“Oh, you know. No problem for the King of Pittsburg.”
“Dylan,” she said to the child. “The girls are waiting for you. You’re on lunch cleanup today.”
“Oh, man,” he whined, wiggling out of Mr. Ridgewood’s arms and racing to the kitchen area of the compound without a good-bye.
“Just like a man—whining and bitching about a little chore,” Teddy joked.
She wasn’t buying it. Her hand reached for his arm and squeezed. “Was it that bad?”
He looked down at her and his Adam’s apple bobbed. His lips tightened as he fought to keep the ever-present smile. The smile lost and his eyes darkened as he looked away.
“You don’t need my problems, Mrs. Greggs. You got enough on your plate. Those four boys are a handful and a half as my momma would say, along with everything else you do for this camp.”
She pulled him to a pair of chairs in the corner, away from the bustling group crowding around the rest of the group that had just returned, waiting to hear about the latest zombie scuffle. Teddy would tell her what happened, or Emily would later with info she got from Seth. The long worried
faces of all didn’t promise any good news. But news from those who went outside was all she got. It wasn’t like there was newspaper delivery anymore or even TMZ.
As usual, he waited until she sat before he took a seat as well. His hand reached for hers and she squeezed his fingers and waited for him to talk—or not. She could talk with Emily later if it came to that.
A harsh cough brought her attention back to Mr. Ridgewood. The words tumbled out like a broken dam, a trickle at first until he rushed through them as if to purge his heart and soul of ugliness.
Was there anything unusual?” she prompted as his words turned to mumbles and indecipherable ramblings.
“No. Some skinbags walking around a parking lot. Then we heard knocking.”
He looked away and she reached and cradled his hand between her two. His skin radiated heat through her palm to her arm. It was like an oven to sit near the man, even with the chill in the wind.
“A kid in a wheelchair. No, a zombie in a wheelchair was hitting a door. We got rid of him and then we heard crying. Like a baby.”
The air whooshed out of her. Bile rose in her throat. This was why she stayed behind the walls. Inside her motor home. Wrapped in her bed with blankets. The new world was too harsh, too demanding, and too sick. Too much. How much until they broke?
“A baby girl. An itty-bitty thing. Something bit her. I couldn’t let her turn. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I killed her.”
The words fell in a tumble and Teddy hung his head down. Her heart cracked with a snap in her chest. Tears blurred her vision as she released his hands and he pulled back as if she’d condemned him. Reaching, she cupped his face in her palms. He raised his head and all she read there was a soul-wrenching ache, a need for forgiveness. Lines bracketed his tightened lips and his brow furrowed with doubt. A gray tinge hid just beneath the darkness of his skin.
“You listen to me, Teddy. That little girl was in pain. It would have only gotten worse. You saved her from that. I’m sure you made it quick and painless as possible. You are a good man, Teddy. Do you hear me? A good man.”
His eyes widened at the same time she realized she’d finally called him by his first name for the first time. She laughed and leaned closer as her lips brushed his. The man was as still as a statue, until his lips warmed under hers. Her breath caught as he kissed her back. Her heartbeat raced as the moment deepened from a gentle brushing of lips, a benediction, to a warm gliding attack on her senses, and deep in her heart. Her mind said stop and her passions said shut up.
Her fingers slid along his smooth cheeks and reached for the back of his neck to hold him there. The flesh there was hot and smooth as glass. The kiss tasted of his sweat and her tears.
Teddy moved back and her vision took a second to straighten. A real, relaxed smile graced his face, one she hadn’t seen in a while, since he’d first arrived at the RV yard. She smiled back; he had that kind of air of happiness that made you want to join in. His eyes twinkled and heat pooled in her chest and between her thighs. They held a promise that echoed the fire of his kiss.
“Michelle. I may call you Michelle, right? You did call me Teddy.” He laughed and she joined in. “Not that that wasn’t the nicest kiss I’ve had, but I do have to ask why.”
“Why?” Her voice dropped down to a tone she didn’t like, the one her friends called the Ice Witch, but she couldn’t help it. “I can’t just kiss you because I want to?”
“Sure you could. But you haven’t even seemed to know I existed before today. So, I have to ask myself, ‘why today’?”
She stood up and folded her arms across her chest. “If you think I didn’t notice you, you’re crazy. Hell, I’ve seen you in your boxer briefs. You’re a little hard to miss with all that.”
As she waved her arms around, indicating his body, Teddy stood up and hugged her in his embrace. His laugh rumbled his chest beneath her cheek.
“You’re hard to miss, too, Michelle, ma belle.”
She giggled. What was with that? She never giggled. That was for the cheerleaders and hair-tossing flirters of the world.
“My dad would sing that song to me.”
“I may be older than you, but I am not old enough to be your father. Okay, in my ‘hood I might be.”
She smacked his arm. “Teddy Ridgewood, you are not old enough to be my father. My dad would have been sixty-six this year if the flu hadn’t killed him. He was probably old enough to be your father.”
His hand reached out and cupped her cheek. He leaned down and his lips found hers. If the other kiss had been hot, this one was scorching. Her face heated up and she grew lightheaded. Her hands grabbed his rock-solid forearms and held on. Her stomach flipped like it did on a roller coaster and she went with the exhilarating ride. Who knew a kiss could do all of that?
***
He didn’t know what had changed her mind and he didn’t care. A blast of cold air blew across the yard and skimmed over his bare head, the only area of his body to feel the chill. The rest of his body was fever-hot on every inch that Michelle was pressed against.
Teddy hated to drag himself away from this moment, but he still needed to report in to Jack and give his impressions of the church clearing and Reverend Billy Joe Bennett. Like a dash of ice-cold water, his mind couldn’t escape the slimy ooze of Bennett. It wasn’t just what he said. It was all that went unsaid but peered out of his ice-cold eyes. Like a vulture waiting for the prey to die.
Her arms dropped away and Michelle backed up. “What?” Her eyes were still hazed over with lust and he wanted to be nowhere but back in her arms to see where this newfound attraction led.
“I hate to do this,” Teddy stumbled for words. “But I need to talk to Jack about what we saw out there and I get this feeling that ten minutes from now you’ll regret kissing me.”
She stood tall and smiled up at him. “I only have one regret in this life, and kissing you isn’t it.”
His heart was fit to burst out of his chest as she took his hand and they headed to the center of the compound where Jack and Paul were already holding a group meeting. The words ‘Bennett’ and ‘church’ filtered through his happy bubble and just like that they were back in the crappy world of zombies and possible renegades. He’d missed the insanity of General Peters and his zombie army attacking the group, but intuition told him Billy Joe Bennett might be just as bad.
Chapter Seven
Michelle folded clothing on the picnic table as the front gate rolled open and Commander Canida left to talk with the church group. He had Paul and Suz with him as backup. More of the men had wanted to go, but Jack overruled them all with the logic of being less threatening and not giving away their numbers.
She was on the last load of washing when the ‘all safe’ honking sounded and the gate rolled open again. Three mad faces didn’t bode well for the initial meeting. Jack put a hand on Paul’s shoulder and the man yelled and shoved it away. His anger carried across the yard even if the words didn’t.
Jack marched to the firepit, which had become the hub of communication in the camp. Meetings were routinely held there and gossip circles mingled there as well during the day. He held his hands up as soon as everyone gathered. “We have met with the Fruitful Harvest Church. All I will say is the meeting went as expected. Once the children are in bed tonight, we will hold a group meeting.”
Loud mumblings rolled across the space, but it died down as Jack refused to say more and marched to his motor home. The slamming of Paul Luther’s trailer door echoed in the suddenly-silent yard.
Dinner was a quiet affair except for the complaints of the children at missing the important meeting. Rogue Vantage sat on either side of her and made their thoughts very clear.
Dylan hit the table with his fist. “We’re part of this camp too. We should have our say in what matters.”
She hugged him. “I know. But this is a grown-up meeting. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”
“When do I get to be a grown-up?”
/>
“When you are way older than six, stupid,” Connor said, punching him.
“I’m not stupid, am I, Mom?”
“Of course not, Dylan.” She eyed Connor over Dylan’s head. “And don’t punch your brother.”
“Well, I can’t punch anyone else,” Connor added with a smirk.
She sighed and hugged Dylan. “Boys,” she muttered under her breath.
The boys fought her every step of the way, but she finally got them all settled down in their trailer. Originally, it was Aiden’s, but the boys had found paint and personalized it all their own. Dylan’s contribution was his painted handprints in a row down the side. Michelle smiled every time she saw them.
Her smile died as she reached the firepit and the angry voices rose. She found a seat by Emily and Seth.
“I think we all need to go to this church,” Juan Morales said as he stood from his seat. “Church never hurt anyone, and some in this group could use it.”
Michelle gritted her teeth. She’d tried to like Juan but his ignorance reared its ugly head every time she saw him. When she had to gather his bloody clothing he gave her a smile that raised her hackles. She’d seen it before from other men. That “the little lady” smile that implied women didn’t have a brain in their heads. Add to that, the man practically strutted when he was down to his skivvies. The picture of skinny Juan thinking he was male model material made her skin crawl.
Paul stood up. “We can’t all go. We can’t leave the camp vulnerable. I don’t think I need to remind anyone of General Peters and the attack on The Streets of Brentwood. I’ve already stated my opinion of Reverend Bennett and his beliefs. Even if he hadn’t stated his morals in stuff that is none of his business, his views of the skinbags as being resurrected people is downright scary. His church may be as mad and crazy as General Peters and his group, or it may not. Perhaps some of us should go and form their own opinions, but someone has to stay here and watch the children.”
