The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side

by A. S. Thompson

  “Oo rah, Staff Sergeant.”

  "So what do we do now, Mr. Quick?" asked Charlie who lingered beside the Marines.

  A wad of compresses secured by multiple loops of white gauze covered the Chief of Staff’s head. Donald was staring blankly at the command room where Vice President Simmons was trapped and presumed deceased under the tons of collapsed rock. Volunteers worked hard, pulling off stone by stone, but the room remained indefinitely inaccessible.

  "Two Presidents assassinated in three days," Donald finally uttered.

  "Sir, my Marines are ready to move, just give us an order.”

  "I think we should still head east and regroup with the Secretary of Defense,” said Donald after a long moment. “To be honest, I'm not even sure who's in charge of this country now."

  “Mr. Quick, we still have our men out there; the ones after the last truck. They know to regroup here. I think it would be wise to wait for them,” petitioned Charlie.

  “Especially West,” Matty added, tossing the cables aside. “He has some pretty valuable knowledge on the LIFE corporation and-”

  Charlie shot him a glare to stop talking.

  “And what?” asked Donald.

  “And he has been involved in the conspiracy since the beginning,” Charlie said, choosing his words carefully. “With all due respect, I think we should wait here. They should be arriving soon.”

  Weighing the pros and cons, Donald grunted, disliking both options. “There is no greater mistake than a hasty conclusion,” he quoted out loud. “Fine, but twenty-four hours and that is all. That will give us time to prepare our exodus. Staff Sergeant Fikejs, have our wounded tended to and get Air Force Two airworthy. I want our on-board communications working ASAP.”

  "Roger that, sir, I'll have the planes prepped and ready to fly.”

  “Staff Sergeant,” Mason interrupted. “My last count was over one hundred-twenty people here, including staff and military.”

  “Use your words, Corporal Mason.”

  “Sir, he’s saying Air Force Two was the Charlie-40 parked out front. Smaller than Air Force One. Passenger configuration limited to one hundred-twenty bodies. We won’t be able to accommodate all personnel in one trip,” Flenderson answered on behalf of his kin.

  "Let me think. Do we still have pilots?"

  Fikejs nodded to his men, and in turn, Ringo and Ryan rushed off to find the pilots. Minutes later they came back with three men.

  "Got ‘em. There’s another, but he’s topside, coming down now," reported Ringo.

  “Alright, I...I need to say something,” Donald said, motioning for assistance to his feet. After tapping into a telecommunications system hardwired into the Fox Hole’s speakers, Donald began. "Attention everyone, this is Chief of Staff Donald Quick. Stop what you are doing and listen. The bunker has been subject to an act of terrorism and is such compromised. The Vice President is assumed dead. We will be leaving here in twenty-four hours’ time and heading east to unite with the other members of the government. That is all for now.”

  New Jerusalem

  December 4, 2009

  0555 hours

  Well before the roosters awoke the town, Steve, Eddy, and Jenny were awoken by the sound of bells. Not the normal bells they came to associate with a sermon. These bells were constant and rang out for an entire minute. Odd still were the sounds of chatter increasing until it was as though a street fair was taking place.

  Steve pulled the window curtain aside, but the angle limited visibility to the back of the crowd.

  "What's going on?" Lisa asked, after being nudged awake by Jenny.

  "Not sure,” Steve answered, slipping into dirty jeans and shoes only. “I’ll be right back, stay here."

  Seconds later, Steve returned, pale-faced and breathing heavily. “Everyone get dressed and get outside now!”

  Steve threw on the closest shirt to him and grabbed a long knife from the kitchen drawer.

  "Steve, you’re scaring the girls.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What's with the knife?"

  "Just get dressed and follow me!"

  Eddy stayed behind as the girls hustled to catch up with Steve. The group of three walked briskly down the boardwalk, slowing as they approached the mass of people.

  In a half circle, every man, woman and child of New Jerusalem huddled around a large wooden crucifix, and bound to it by rope was Nick.

  The girls gasped upon seeing the terrifying sight.

  Steve tucked the knife in the small of his back. "Nick!" he called out, shoving his way through the masses. "Nick!"

  Chin to his chest and arms outstretched, Nick was unconscious. His face was covered in a combination of dry and wet blood.

  Steve arrived at the front, and went to untie his friend, but a pair of guns stopped him. "What’s going on? What the hell is this?"

  "Interesting choice of words," came a sly reply. The Preacher slithered out from behind Blake and Brad’s guns. "Because that is exactly what this is! This man is Hell incarnate!"

  The crowd let out a collective gasp, followed by a surge of gossip.

  “Steve!” Jenny and Lisa shouted, finally reuniting after losing him in the thick mass of people.

  “Stay behind me,” Steve said, positioning himself so the gun barrels were on him.

  "My children!” the Preacher continued. “I was visited last night, not by one of God's messengers, but by God himself!"

  "What did he say?"

  "What happened?"

  "Is everything okay?"

  "Thisheathen,” the Preacher continued, pointing at Nick, “attempted to sneak outside our walls and bring back the evil with him! Worse, he plotted to create a passage that would lead the demons into our town!"

  The Preacher lifted his hands to pacify the anxious crowd.

  Justin stood off to the side and pointed toward the bank. “It’s true! Go see for yourselves! That’s where he built the tunnel!”

  "Now I apologize, my sons and daughters,” the Preacher said, shaking his head. “I am terribly sorry, and cannot say it enough.”

  Faithful Alice was at the forefront of the crowd. “Why are you apologizing?”

  “Because, my child, I allowed this malevolent man into our town. I have been too trusting, too loving, apparently to a critical fault.”

  “Nonsense! You were being a good Christian! You couldn’t have known!”

  Every face in town agreed.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Christie. Your words and confidence are inspiring,” the Preacher replied, touching her cheek.

  He waited a long moment before continuing. Then, in the most dramatic fashion, the Preacher ripped Nick’s shirt from his body. He motioned for Brad to pull Nick’s torso to the side, thus revealing the wolf tattoo that covered his Native American back.

  “Beware the mark of the beast!” shouted the Preacher. “It has long since been foretold that the devil wears many disguises, and in this dark hour we have been warned of the Antichrist. Behold, I give him to you!”

  The crowd gasped.

  “But please, fear not! As I said, God himself visited me last night and as it was told me I will tell you. Our Heavenly Father was testing us to see if we were worthy of Heaven. If we could withstand the temptation of the Devil. For the news of infections and cures was enticing and seductive, but it was nothing more than a lie, than a trick! To lure us outside the walls!” the Preacher exclaimed, energized as he walked among the people. “Furthermore, in order to cleanse our community and prepare for Jesus’ imminent arrival, God requires a sacrifice! He requires the life of this malcontent, this heathen, this Antichrist!”

  “Sacrifice?”

  “We have to kill him?”

  “Yes! And if not, our Heavenly Father has made it abundantly clear that we would be unworthy of His grace and unfit to dwell in His kingdom!"

  Some townsfolk were not as sympathetic; those ones held up fists.

  "Why not?”

  “If God demands i
t, I say we give it to him!"

  "Ya!"

  “He’s the Antichrist! The Devil!”

  "What are you talking about?” Jenny screamed. "Nick is a good man! He's not a heathen!"

  The Preacher’s eyes narrowed as he pointed back at Nick. "This agent of evil desired nothing more than to circumvent our laws, to compromise your lives, the lives of your wives and children. To bring the darkness into our town! To fill your head with lies and deception!”

  One by one, the community drifted physically and mentally and sided with the Preacher.

  "You can't be serious!"

  The Preacher stared glaringly at Steve. "Oh, I assure you I am very serious.”

  "All of you,” Steve shouted, spinning in a circle. “Are you hearing yourselves? You are all willing to murder an innocent man? For what? He did nothing wrong!"

  Black duffle bag in hand, Jill stepped in front of the Preacher. "How do you explain his bag full of contraband?" she asked, dumping out the contents onto the muddy gravel. “I’m no doctor, but these can’t be medicinal.”

  “Mr. Becklan?” someone from the crowd asked.

  The town’s physician stepped forward and examined the contraband. “Let’s see, what do we have here?” he said, setting his glasses over his nose. “Oxycontin. Hydrocodone. Dioxin...these are pretty serious narcotics.”

  Steve, Lisa and Jenny were at a loss.

  "That's not his!”

  “I don't know where that came from but that is not his!"

  “Someone’s framing him!”

  Steve noticed the Lawkeeper making his way through the crowd. “Binky! Binky, come here! Help us!”

  "What's going on here, Preacher?"

  "Ah just in time, Lawkeeper," the Preacher declared, bringing together his fingertips. "Nicolas has not been who he has claimed to be. For he is the Antichrist, but his sinister plans have been foiled by our good citizens.”

  “We’ll revisit that in a moment, but why is Nick tied to a cross?”

  “Thisman is bound because he has violated our laws and attempted to bring the darkness into our town."

  "You found him?"

  "I did not, one of the guards did. Blake, where are you, my son?”

  Blake stepped forward. “It happened early this morning after I relieved you, Lawkeeper,” he said, initially speaking to Binky, but then raised his voice enough for the townspeople to hear. “I caught him red handed, bag and all. I watched him sneak around the town and into the tunnel then grabbed him just outside the bank.”

  “Now hold on, let’s not be brash. There might be a good explanation-” Binky started to say, but the Preacher’s powerful voice was overbearing.

  "And what would that be? That in his sleep, Nicolas walked to the bank, dug a tunnel, and grabbed a bag full of dangerous and outlawed substances? It’s no secret he and his have been itching to go outside the gates,” the Preacher retorted. “But let me just say for a moment that I believe you, that there might be a reasonable explanation. It does not change the fact that I was visited by God himself who told me that this man needed to be sacrificed! That in order for every good soul here to enter His gates, the life of this,this heathen, is required. Now I have kept the evil at bay for now, but God has given me until sundown.”

  “Sundown? And then what? We shoot him?” Binky asked, taken aback.

  “Oh no, my dear Lawkeeper, we will not shoot him,” the Preacher answered, smiling. “His sentence is death by fire. For the flames will consume the physical body and the evil within. At sundown, he will be burned alive, and his sacrifice will cleanse our town."

  “A word?” Binky asked, pulling the Preacher aside. "There has to be another way. Why not just send him away? We have never killed anyone here."

  "Sacrificed, my dear keeper of the law," the Preacher corrected. "And it is not my will, but the will of the Lord..."

  He shook off Binky’s grasp, and then spoke to the masses.

  "Would any of you dare go against the Lord? The one who has protected you? The one who has kept you safe during these dark days? The one who has provided for you? Healed you in times of need? The one who has asked nothing more of you than your faith and belief in His will? He asks but one small thing in return. One minute task to rectify the misdeeds of a deceiver whom we took into our community; the life of a stranger, a liar and evildoer who betrayed you and me."

  Steve looked around and could not believe his eyes. Everyone in town was in complete and utter agreement. They were so enthralled, so under the spell of the Preacher.

  "If God desires it? Let it be!" one declared, and the rest agreed, fists up high.

  "You people are crazy!" Steve shouted.

  "You are all delusional! He’s messing with your heads!" pleaded Jenny.

  "There's no way he was visited by God and told to kill Nick! Nick is a good man!" Lisa exclaimed.

  She looked around the crowd and found Leonard and Neil Willis. Both of whom were more terrified than on board with the lynch mob. "Are you are willing to let this happen? To kill the man who saved your child?"

  Leonard was too choked up and too scared to be put on the spot. "I-I don't want any trouble, please!"

  Lisa leaned in close. "If you don't say something, I’ll tell them about Neil. Tell them it was his tunnel, his way out. Landon will vouch for us.”

  "Not my boy, please!"

  Lisa was furious and willing to do anything for Nick, but as she looked to Neil, she began to imagine what would happen to the frightened boy if she outed him. If she revealed that Neil had been outside despite the multiple warnings. She could picture him on a smaller cross next to Nick.

  “Please,” she whispered, “our friend needs your help.”

  Leonard looked faintheartedly at his toes.

  "Coward," Lisa both said and signed.

  "Binky, please,” Steve said, grabbing the Lawkeeper by the shoulder, “you have to do something. There has been a huge mistake."

  The look on the Lawkeeper's face reflected his inner thoughts. He had lost all grip on his community. "I-I-I don't know what to do,” he stuttered. “But there's no way the Preacher can go through with this. He wouldn't! Couldn’t?"

  Steve subtly removed the knife and held it by his side. "Nick doesn't have the luxury of that gamble."

  "I'll talk to the Preacher, there's got to be another way-"

  But Steve was already off. He acted quick and precise. He moved with such speed that no one, even the ones with guns, saw coming. Before anyone knew what happened, Steve was behind the Preacher, blade against his throat.

  "Enough of this!" Steve shouted. "Are you all crazy? Or brainwashed? Nick is no heathen or conspirator of evil! He's a good man, who has been the victim of a scam, some terrible mistake! And you are all so willing to kill him? Tell your men to put their guns down! Now!"

  The crowd took a collective step back.

  “I-it is okay, my children. Do not worry, everything will be alright," the Preacher said, hands open in the air. "Please, do as he says and lower your weapons."

  The Preacher waited until all weapons were on the ground. "It would appear as though I was wrong…”

  "See, I told you people-”

  "There is more than one wolf in our flock!"

  "One more word and I swear to every god that I will slice your throat, then we will see if God heals that! Now have your men untie Nick and get him down from that thing…”

  Steve increased the pressure and the blade broke skin.

  “Look, we don't want any trouble, we never did. All we want to do is go on our way. You can have your little cult. We don't want any trouble. We'll just go on our-”

  “Steve, look out!” Jenny screamed.

  The butt of a shotgun came crashing down on Steve's skull, knocking the blade from his grasp and sending him to the muddy street.

  Steve’s vision swam, but he was able to make out the face of his attacker.

  It wasn’t Blake, Justin, Brad, Jason, Binky or anyone who had been
armed. In fact it wasn’t a man at all, rather Ms. Pendergast who had courageously picked up a gun and struck him.

  Then, both Brad and Blake rushed over and began to kick and punch Steve mercilessly. The last of the beatings was a boot stomp to the ribs, courtesy of Jill.

  “Stop it!”

  “You’re hurting him!”

  Lisa and Jenny shouted, moving to Steve’s side.

  So much had transpired and so quickly that Binky was unprepared. He defaulted to law enforcement training and made a grab for his revolver. His fingers wrapped around the polished wood, but before he could act, the Preacher made the decision for him.

  "Our dear keeper of the law," he began, "I feel I must ask you. Are you with us or the heathen and his cohorts?"

  Binky swallowed. He looked left and right at each angry, sacrifice-craving supporter. It took him a long time, but finally he managed the words, "I'm- I'm with the town."

  0657 hours

  When the door handle turned, the girls quickly rose to their feet. They eagerly approached the bars thinking it was Binky returning from his talk with the Preacher. To their chagrin it was Blake and Brad dragging in an uncooperative Eddy.

  “Get your damn hands off me!”

  The men shoved the giant into cell with the girls, where he landed roughly on the floorboards.

  "Animals!" Lisa shouted through red eyes.

  "G-ahh. My leg,” Eddy yelped. Then, as he righted himself, a dark side took; a side the girls had only ever heard about. "When I get out of here I’m gonna smash your fucking skulls in! Starting with you! You scarred face piece of shit!”

  Blake snorted and chuckled at the fruitless threat. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

  “Come on, Blake, let’s go. The Preacher needs us,” Brad said, exiting the Sheriff’s station.

  "Are you alright, Eddy?"

  Jenny’s soft voice was enough to calm the fury inside.

  "Grh, I’m alright, sweetheart. No worse for the ware I suppose. But I don't take kindly to having a bag thrown over my head, getting dragged out of bed, roughed up, and forced to limp down the street to get tossed into a cell without being told why. What’s going on?"

  Steve was lying on the cot, nursing his bruised ribs and the now blood-crusted back of his head. "Eddy, lie down here.”