The Seventh Seal

by J. Thorn

  “Therefore, we intend to present the lives of Saints who happened to be servicemen, soldiers, to show that even they, amid all the perils, and despite all the temptations they met as soldiers, could, with their eyes on God and His will, live good, moral lives, even to the extent of becoming perfect.

  “We are all soldiers in this fight against the Infidels. Every one of us can rise up and beat Satan’s forces to Hell. Many evil forces will tempt you from His perfection. Remember, ‘Thy will be done.’ The Holy Covenant will prevail. The First Cleansing required the Holy Spirit to guide God’s hand in the same way the Spirit guided the waters of the Great Flood. Before we can heal, we must excise our sickness.

  “I call on each and every one of you to serve His will. Whether it be with gun or Bible, volunteer work or prayer, you must all do your part. Satan will not surrender. He will not lay down in front of the glory of the Lord. And he will not provide mercy. Continue to alert our soldiers, the chosen Warriors of Christ, of the location of any Infidel. They may be your neighbor or your brother, but they are also the concubine of Lucifer. God before all, so: ‘Thy will be done.’ Bow your heads and pray for God’s blessing.”

  Father sat and leaned back on his chair while the congregation held his gaze in rapture. He read the visions of an Earthly garden in their eyes, and heard their hearts banishing the serpent and sin. The thought of the Thousand Year Peace allowed him to sleepwalk through the rest of the Mass.

  As was custom, the parishioners shook his hand as they filed out the back doors of St. Michael’s. Many commented on the beautiful, holy sermon just delivered, and they spoke of the richness of a full church. Father shook hands with men. He hugged women, and lifted little children in the air.

  God’s love will triumph, he thought.

  ***

  “Just us?” asked Commander Byron.

  “Is my conversation alone not adequate?” asked Father.

  The general laughed. He arranged his beret to cover a receding hairline. The medals on his chest clinked together with every movement. Commander Byron’s olive-green jacket had pressure on the lower buttons. His cane sat across his lap, and an eye patch hung in place.

  “Of course it is, Father. A brandy or cigar would make our discussion quite palatable”

  Father reached for the decanter before Byron even finished asking for it. Byron chuckled under his breath and followed the comfortable ritual of their friendship.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Father.”

  Father poured a two-finger dose of brandy into a paper cup and handed it to the commander.

  “As you can imagine, we may need to make adjustments, Commander, until the Covenant has secured the region.”

  Commander Byron took the cup from Father, held it to the light, and downed the red liquid. A burst of color filled his ample cheeks.

  “I can live with it. Maybe you can fill it again?”

  Father repeated the process and removed two cigars from his desk. He unwrapped them, used his cutter to remove the ends, and lit one with the deep-blue flame from a cigar lighter. He handed the cigar to the Commander and lit one for himself. Since John’s escape, they’d relocated the field hospital to a local school a mile away. The administrative assistants, with a night off, chose to pray together in the convent attached to the church. A lone guard stood by the steps leading up into the entrance. Father nodded toward the man. With one flicker of his hand, the Commander dismissed the guard, leaving them in complete privacy.

  “Ummm. I love the Acids,” said Commander Byron.

  “As do I, my old friend.”

  “Although I enjoy it, I’m sure you did not invite me down here for a brandy and a smoke.”

  Father tilted back in his chair. He loosened the white collar under his black shirt and looked at the commander.

  “I need John the Revelator.”

  “Of course, of course. Why?” asked Commander Byron.

  “I can’t explain. I simply know it’s God’s will, and I know this man is crucial to our victory.”

  “Do you want him alive or dead?” asked the commander.

  Byron blew fragrant smoke circles into the stillnessof the basement, as the question itself also hung in the air.

  “I need him alive.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Very little. We have a physical description. We also know he has paired with a vet that helped him escape.”

  “Which war?”

  Father’s laughter erupted causing the commander to drop his cigar. Byron had heard this sound very rarely.

  “He’s a veterinarian.”

  The commander giggled a bit, then a bit more. Eventually, the medals on his chest shook with each uncontrollable fit of laughter. Military tears of contempt streamed down his face.

  “Do you have any intel on the vet?”

  The word elicited another smile from Father.

  “We have his name, address, business address, and other random items. It should be enough for you to run through the database and get a decent profile. That might lead you to John.”

  “And him, John?”

  “Practically nothing. He is probably not a priest, although he was found wearing the collar. You cannot let the troops know he is secular as it could cause, shall we say, public-relations issues? The clerk will hand you a photo and physical description on the way out.”

  “Are you asking me to leave, Father?”

  Father waved both hands in the air, gesturing in exaggerated movements.

  “There is more brandy to drink and more cigars to smoke. Stay until you’ve had your fill.”

  The commander nodded and smirked.

  “Not even a priest, eh? Perhaps I can help you with your ‘Revelations Reading’? It’s been a while since I had such a malleable congregation.”

  Incensed, Father exploded across the table and grabbed the commander by the back of the neck. He slammed his face down into the hard, oak desk twice. Blood from his nose smeared the rest of his face. Before Commander Byron could even reach for the revolver on his hip, he heard a sharp metallic click in his right ear.

  “Insult me? God will guide this bullet through your diseased brain if you so much as sniffle.”

  The commander raised his gun hand and placed it on the table.

  “Commander Byron. If you ever – ever – mention that again, I will send you to your Judgment Day. Do you understand me?”

  Father let go of Commander Byron’s neck and handed him a white handkerchief to wipe his face. The commander sat back and grinned at the priest.

  “You are one tough son of a bitch, I’ll say that. It’s no wonder we’ve been friends for so long. Is there anything else I need to know about John the Revelator? I think I’ve worn out my welcome here.”

  Father fixed his shirt and dabbed the commander’s blood from his own shirt.

  “There is one more thing. He has a relationship with a woman named Jana. You can use her to draw him out, if she is still alive.”

  The commander stood and extinguished his cigar in the remnants of his brandy. His nose still dripped blood on his uniform. He wiped it, unconcerned that the seventh broken nose would not heal any better than the previous six.

  “Jana. Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem at all. I’ll start with the Cleveland white pages.”

  He spun around on Father and headed for the door, hoping the jibe would not earn him a bullet in the back.

  Chapter 25

  The rest of the survivors living in the back room of the BP took care of the mess created by Jake. Morning came and washed the memory of the night away. Jana sat on the floor by Sally and Jay, who cuffed up his jeans and buttoned his shirt all the way to the top. Jay had a crayon attached to his hand, scribbling on any scrap of paper he could find. He made a note for Jana, signed it, and dated it.

  “Why thank you, Jay! It says, ‘To my new friend Jana I like you Jay November ate’. It’s wonderful.”

  “I drew a picture of me and you holdi
ng hands,” he replied.

  “Yes, I can see that. Maybe you can be my boyfriend.”

  Jay blushed without knowing why.

  Ruth paced about the back room and looked out the door. Sally noticed her unease.

  “What’s wrong, Ruthie?” she asked.

  “Honey, how long we gonna stay here like animals? Worse than animals, ‘cause we know we’re caged. I realize it was the first place we felt safe since they attacked us, but I don’t know how long I can stay here. You know they’s gonna come back for us. It’s a matter of time.”

  The BP Crew, as they had begun calling themselves, looked around at each other. Peter’s absence cast a pall over the group.

  “I know,” said Sally. “I was thinking the same thing. We don’t have much food left here, and the stuff we do have is mostly salty junk. Nothing to keep us sharp and in the game. My ex has a beautiful house out in Geauga County. There isn’t another house for miles and it sits on acres of farmland. There are even old barns and equipment left over from the time it was a working farm. I’m not saying it’s perfectly safe, but I think it would be easy to spot a threat coming from a distance.”

  “That sounds nice, Sally, but I think I’m heading south toward Kentucky. I’ve got a brother in Lexington. Nothing says that’s any safer than South Euclid, but I can’t sit here and wait any longer.”

  The others stopped, surprised by the verbosity of Andrew’s response. He’d spoken very little since the ordeal began.

  “Well, you’re all free to do what you want, but I think Jay and I are heading east.”

  Jana lifted her head and spoke.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “I’m gonna head into East Cleveland to see if my cousin is still around,” said Ruthie.

  And that was that; the discussion came to a close. They each stockpiled bags and purses with as much food as they could carry, but waited until nightfall before departing. Chances of being seen would be much less on the dark streets of the city. The group spent the rest of the day giving each other pep talks and building their courage to leave the safe haven.

  The low sun set behind the empty buildings on the horizon. Ruth stepped out of the BP first. She hobbled through the parking lot and onto Mayfield, heading east into the city. As she approached the edge of the sidewalk, she turned and waved to the group. Andrew left next. He went due south on Warrensville Road in hopes of picking up route 271 and taking that southwest toward Kentucky. Sally, Jay, and Jana stood in front of the shattered windows of the BP.

  “Now or never,” said Sally.

  “Let’s go mom,” Jay replied.

  “Stay as close to the buildings as possible. There’s less of a chance we’ll be seen that way.”

  The two women and young boy maneuvered through a number of residential streets until they stood on Wilson Mills Road. If they traveled uncontested on this road, it would take them east out of Cuyahoga County toward the more rural areas of northeast Ohio. They had a long way to go to escape urban sprawl.

  Jay picked up a rock and threw it over the guardrail. It tumbled through the weeds and struck something metal. The sound echoed through the still night.

  “No rock throwing, Jay,” said Sally. “Jesus, I never thought I’d see Cleveland like this. It’s a ghost town.”

  “Don’t say that Sally. Let’s hope there are more people like us, waiting for their chance to move on.”

  ***

  “Sir, I’ve got movement on the street. Do you want me to engage?”

  “Give me the night vision.”

  Commander Byron looked through the infrared binoculars, wincing as they rested on his tender nose. He smeared a trickle of blood from his upper lip as he spotted three distinct shapes.

  “They’re traveling with a kid. They can’t be that dangerous. Let’s move down and get an eye on them.”

  The commander hobbled down three flights of steps to the bottom of the apartment building. His combat boots smacked the marble-tile floor and rang throughout the lobby. His forces had stormed this building and secured it for the Holy Covenant on the night of the First Cleansing. He’d been using it as a barracks and command central ever since.

  With two soldiers to his right, Commander Byron slid out the back door and looped around toward the main entrance facing Wilson Mills. His drew a pistol, and his cane supported a battle-scarred body. The three figures moved further east. They stopped under the awning of a corner store.

  “Follow them, but do not engage without my permission. Understand?”

  “Yes sir,” the soldiers replied.

  They ran to the opposite side of the road and disappeared into the silent gloom of the evening.

  ***

  “I remember these places from my own childhood. This store used to be an ice-cream parlor. My parents would drop us off with a buck or two and we’d spend most of our time trying to decide what flavor milkshake to get.” Tears welled up in Sally’s eyes as she spoke. “He’ll never have that experience.”

  “Sally don’t. Jay needs you to be strong. If we start to get emotional and break down, we might as well give up now. Hold it together.”

  Jana’s words gripped Sally. Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

  “Sorry, you’re right. Let’s move through. If I remember correctly, there should be a sandwich shop up here a bit further, on the other side of Wilson Mills. If we can get to it, might be a good place to sleep.”

  “Maybe, but we’re going to need to cover more ground if we only venture out at night. Otherwise, it’s going to take us a long time to get out of the county.”

  “True, but what’s the hurry? I don’t think our old lives are waiting for us to return.”

  “Let’s get to the shop, Sally. Maybe we’ll luck out and find food. Whaddya think Jay?”

  The boy put his head down and did not respond.

  The number of shops and buildings defaced with the pentagram astounded the trio. Jana tried not to imagine how many people had been captured or murdered during the recent ordeal. Her mind continued to struggle to keep it all in perspective. If it hadn’t been for the superficiality of her flesh wound, she would be one of the damned too.

  Alley cats hissed and whined in the distance, sending a stray dog into the street. The dog loped down the middle of Wilson Mills Road, flaunting his newfound territory. He grasped a hunk of flesh in his jaws. The dog stopped to look at them, but then continued on its way. Sally pulled Jay close to her leg until the mangy beast entered an open door on the other side of the street.

  The sub shop Sally described stood on a corner. A stone bench sat out front on the sidewalk. A video-rental store stood on one side of the sub shop and a chiropractor’s office stood on the other side. Empty doors guarded both of the adjoining businesses. Glass sparkled in the diffused glow of the moon. The wooden door to the sub shop remained on its hinges, but barely open.

  “Take Jay and go around the corner. Wait there until I come for you. If you hear a struggle or gunshots, run and don’t stop.”

  Sally nodded and led Jay by the hand around the corner and out of sight.

  Jana took the handgun from the back of her jeans and held it in front of her face. She did not know how to fire it, but hoped its appearance might scare off potential threats. She slowed her breathing and heartbeat. Jana took in deep breaths, as if preparing to deal with a trauma victim in the ER. With her left foot, she pushed the door to the sub shop. The door swung in and disappeared into the gaping mouth of the store. A pungent, unidentifiable odor washed over her.

  Jana stood on the threshold for a couple of minutes, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the total darkness inside. Overturned chairs materialized in front of her, with tables pushed against the wall opposite the counter. Other than the chairs, the rest of the shop looked untouched. Jana could make out the outline of wire shelving units that held chips and other snacks. A dead cooler stood in the corner, full of warm soda.

  Feeling secure, Jana removed a penlight from he
r bag. The LED beam cut through the inky blackness, revealing the store through a tight cone of blue-tinged light. Paw prints and a pile of feces appeared underneath the cooler. Jana thought she may have found the private stash of the stray dog they had passed earlier. As she moved the flashlight around the shop, it became apparent to her that this particular spot had been spared a fight. There were no bodies, no bullet holes, and no bloodstains.

  She walked through the shop. The counter sat on her left and the tables on her right. She went to the very end of the counter and paused. Jana watched enough action movies with John to know it made sense to put her flashlight above the handgun. She winced and paused at the thought of John, but fell back into her training and pushed him from her mind.

  In one motion, Jana spun and stood behind the counter, facing back toward the front door of the shop. The area behind the counter was empty. She turned back around and faced a door that read “Employees Only”. She gathered as much courage as possible and placed her hand on the doorknob. The cold shock made her pull her fingers away. Jana heard her heartbeat in her ears. She tightened her grip on the knob and turned it to the left. The door swung open and inward on cranky hinges. The beam on her flashlight zipped across a collage of boxes, papers, and trash cans. She saw the outline of a desk in one corner and the glare of porcelain behind another door. Jana spun in a complete circle two or three times until satisfied that nobody hid in a dark crevice.

  Jana dropped the gun to her side, which felt like a thousand pounds. She pulled a metal folding chair from the wall and opened it. Jana dropped into it while her body’s surge of adrenaline faded. She sat for a minute in complete silence.

  After shutting the office door and moving back into the shop, she stopped at the cooler and helped herself to a sixteen-ounce soda.

  So much for sleep tonight, she thought.

  Jana walked back through the shop and around the corner, where Sally and Jay sat against the side of the building. Fatigue and stress had dulled their sense of self-preservation.

  “C’mon, let’s make ourselves a hoagie,” Jana said.

  “We call’em subs in Cleveland, Miss Pittsburger,” Sally replied with a tired smile and wink of an eye.