Binky shambled out from his office, leaving behind his hat next to the empty bottle of bourbon. He bounced from wall to wall until reaching the desk in the main room. He managed to get hold of the glass jug, pour a cup of water, gulp it down, and then repeat the action twice more. "You don't-"
"If you try to tell me that I don't understand, or there's nothing you could have done or that you were worried what the Preacher and the people would do if you helped us, you can save it. I don't wanna hear it..."
The Lawkeeper retracted his version of exactly that.
"Nick, the man you let die, he was a damn good man. He helped rescue more people than I care to share. He did his part to help humanity, and you let him die..."
Binky remained silent, and Steve watched the law man’s Adam's apple rise and fall with the swallow of guilt.
"Nick taught me so much. About life, about myself,” Steve continued, unintentionally divulging personal revelations. “You see, I was in a bad spot, still am, but Nick, he told me something, told me that no matter how far we run, we can't run away from regret. Now I'm not saying that you feel regret for what just happened, or if you ever will, but I believe that you doing nothing was way worse than the brainwashed idiots who follow that lunatic. You had a duty to protect and uphold the law, and you failed."
Binky stood motionless. Then, without warning, he threw the glass against the wall. He swiped the jug onto the floor, then toppled the table and kicked the chair. “G-ah!” he yelled, pulling the receding hair from his head. Then, he backed up against the wall and let his body slide down the wood until he was sitting in a clump on the ground. "I know that! Everything you're saying is true…”
The first sounds of glass breaking awoke the prisoners, but no one, including Steve, spoke.
“When all of this happened a year ago, I was with my wife,” Binky continued, spinning off his wedding band, only to hold it in his palm. “Linda was pregnant, five months along with our baby boy. We were on the road caravanning with a few others. Like most, we weren’t sure what was going on, just that we needed to keep moving and stay away from those things. Anyway, about a month in, Linda got sick. She needed help. We had a doctor in our group. You’d think it’d be best case scenario, right? But no, not at all. That asshole refused to treat her because he thought she wasone of those things, confused her morning sickness and abdominal cramps with, well, what you guys called the infection. Folks were nervous, were saying that people with flu-like symptoms would become those things, whatever they were. And I swore by my unborn kid that Linda was different; that it was just the pregnancy. I pleaded to the doctor, to everyone that she was just ill, but no one believed me. Even gave me an ultimatum: leave and come with them, or stay with her alone. She wasn't infected, she wasn’t becoming a demon. She was a pregnant woman who needed prenatal help but-”
Binky paused. He swiped away the snot from his nose and took a breath before continuing. “But she never got it. And because of that, she died about a week later. I'm no doctor so I couldn't tell ya what caused it, but I just remember waking up one morning and...and my wife and unborn child had died during the night...”
Steve followed Binky's movement and slid down the wall in his cell. The story was tragic. Terrible on so many levels. Steve’s expression was as grief-stricken and sorrowful as Lisa, Jenny and Eddy’s.
"And here I am. I guess I became the doctor. I can see it now. I was afraid to do the right thing, and another good person died. You’re absolutely right. I’m a coward."
Groans from the next cell caused all heads to turn.
"It’s LT,” Jenny said, pointing. “He’s waking up!"
Landon grabbed his head with both hands. "I feel woozy...what’s going on? Why am I in jail?"
Binky slid the silver band back onto his finger. “Preacher didn’t say, just that he would explain later.”
“We were hoping you could tell us?”
"Give me a sec...let me think...ya I-I remember it now. After we left Steve..."
Landon recounted how Nick followed the tracks up to the castle. How they broke in and overheard the people. How Nick had uncovered the truth.
“Nick told me to give this to you,” Landon concluded, taking out the flyer. He reached through the bars and handed it to Steve.
“Binky, bring over the candle on the wall,” Steve said, unfolding the paper.
“The Preacher isn’t a preacher at all. He’s a phony,” Landon said, watching Steve’s expression change from confusion to understanding.
"So how did you end up in here?" asked Lisa.
"All I remember is heading down the castle stairs. I was about to make my way through the window, and that’s when someone wrapped their arm around my neck. Then I blacked out. I woke up for a second only long enough to see Blake pull a needle out of my arm, then I was back unconscious ‘til now. Whatever they gave me made me feel good, like I was wrapped up in the warmest, most softest blanket.”
"Probably some kind of narcotic," noted Binky. He used the keys on the wall and unlocked Landon’s cell to examine his arm. "How do you feel now?
"Terrible, like I want to throw up and sleep for a day."
“Probably heroin.”
“Heroin! I’ve never even smoked marijuana!”
Steve gazed at the picture, tilting his head from one side to the other. "No freaking way! The Preacher...he's a damn Vegas act! Look at this, block the ‘stache and that's him! Monte the Magnificent is the Preacher!"
Steve passed the card to the others.
"You're 'preacher' is nothing more than a magician!"
"Illusionist, but ya that's what Nick said," Landon said, followed by a series of dry-heaves.
It took a few blinks for Binky’s eyes to focus. "Hmm, I’ll give you that this picture does look like the Preacher...but how do you explain the levitation, healing and how he controlled the demons- I mean the infected?"
"I heard parts of that too," Landon said, wiping his mouth. "The levitation was an illusion. Don't know how, just that it was. The healing was antibiotics and other meds he had stored."
"Misdirection. Probably just used sleight-of-hand and put a pill in a drink or something. Classic magician's trick,” added Eddy.
"Yup, and as for the Preacher getting bit and controlling the demon, that was just an elaborate show. It was Justin pretending to be infected. He wore contacts and make up. Blake, Brad and Jill were all in on it too."
"What about the bullet? I shot him," Binky argued, pulling out his gun.
"Youthought you shot him," Landon answered. "Apparently, Blake used to be a special effects guy. He had the equipment like they use in the movies. He put something in Justin’s beanie to fake the explosion and musta slipped blanks in your gun. When you fired, someone pressed the button and made it look like you blew his head off."
Binky flicked open the cylinder, then released the bullets. "Sons of bitches!” he said, locating the one spent round that was different from the full metal jackets.
"So that was just a show?"
“For what?”
"But Nick...the Preacher had Nick killed just because he found this out?”
“What? Nick’s dead?”
Steve nodded toward the center of town. “Preacher set Nick up. Said he was caught bringing drugs into town, then sold the lie by saying he was visited by God who demanded a sacrifice. Fucking stupid ass people believed every word.”
Dejected, Landon sat back on the cot. “I’m so sorry, guys.”
“I don’t get it. Why not just send us away?" asked Lisa.
"Because the Preacher’s a sociopath," Binky guessed. "Think about it. Doing that was the only way to ensure things stayed the same and his claws got in deeper. If what you guys are saying is true about the broadcast, the vaccine and all that, then the people would have no reason to stay. Not to mention how they would react to the months of lies."
Steve grabbed the bars. "You have to let us out of here, Binky! Help us expose the Preacher!"
Binky had h
is key out and the lock undone before Steve finished. "Look, I’m sure it means next to nothing, but- but I'm truly sorry about your friend."
Steve snorted. "Save it. We got shit to do.”
"What do you need from me?"
"Guns, weapons, anything you can get your hands on."
"That should be easy. I am the Lawkeeper,” Binky said, moving down the hallway. He undid the lock on the weapons storage room and swung the door inward. Inside was a rack filled with shotguns and rifles. Boxes of ammunition were stacked neatly on the bottom next to a pair of handguns.
"What's the plan?"
"Eddy can't move,” Steve answered, pressing in a 12-gauge buck shot shell into the tube. “LT is just as immobile, and I don't want the girls to get hurt. Looks like it's you and me. Can I trust you to have my back?”
“Done.”
“Where does the Preacher sleep?"
"In the back of the church, but what then?"
"We make him pay," Steve said, racking the shotgun. He stuffed a handful of shells into his pocket and tucked one of the handguns into his waistband.
Jenny intercepted Steve and Binky in front of the main door. "I want to come! I can help I really can!”
"I know you can, but I need you girls to stay here and protect Eddy and LT, okay?”
“Oh come on!”
Steve knelt down on one knee and said, "Look, I know it’s not what you want, but being here is really important. Can you do that for me?”
Jenny growled in frustration. “Fine. Ya, I guess.”
“Good. Take this,” he said, handing the pistol to Jenny. “There are plenty more guns and ammo in the back. If anyone comes in here, you lock them in the cells and keep them there until we get back."
***
The roosters stretched their legs but had yet to announce morning.
Steve hurried down the street, but stopped suddenly, causing Binky to collide into his back.
“What’s wrong?”
Steve gazed to the center of the park. The visual of Nick’s fried remains was disturbing, saddening and enraging.
Nick's lower half was scorched black and skin flakey-charred. The tissue on his midsection was a mix of roasted muscle and bubbly fat. His head, however, was relatively unburned, though his lengthy hair was all burned off.
Proper burial later. For now you need to get the mother fuckers who did this, Steve thought, then said, “Come on, let’s move.”
Binky gripped the ring-like door handle to the church. “On three,” he whispered. “One, two, three!”
The church was quiet and still. The candles along the walls were almost burned out.
Binky pointed to the back, behind the candelabra, next to the incense altar for perished loved ones. “That’s where he sleeps.”
In front of the cell door, Binky pointed to Steve, then used a bladed hand instructing Steve to move to the left once inside, while he himself would veer to the right.
After another three-count, the men performed their dynamic entry. The door creaked loudly, and even smacked against the stone wall, but the noise was of no concern.
"Where is he?" Steve asked, confused. He lifted the blanket from the empty single bed and tossed it aside. “Where’s the Preacher?”
"I don't get it? I don't know where else he would be."
"Shh," Steve said, closing his eyes. "You hear that?"
"No, what?"
"Sounds like a breeze. One sec, I’ll be right back."
Steve returned with a lit candle. He walked around the small living quarters moving slowly enough to keep the flame vertical. As he passed by a large dresser, the flame danced.
"Bingo. Help me move it."
The men dragged the heavy dresser backward, exposing a concealed exit. Steve stepped through the hole and found himself outside the town on a man-made path covered in dead leaves.
"Crafty son of a bitch," Binky said looking back at the church. "So the Preacher just made it look like he was humbly sleeping on a cot all the while he’s-"
"Living in luxury up there," Steve interjected, pointing up to the castle. "Come on, it's almost morning."
The two men hustled up the windy path and made it to the front of the castle in minutes. Breathing heavily, they were exhausted but ready for action.
Steve led Binky to the right, locating the window from Landon's story. He went in first, moved to the side and crouched.
Binky hopped down beside Steve and asked, "What's the plan?"
Head up the stairs and shoot their asses,Steve wanted to say and truly wanted to do.
He craved blood for blood, but then he thought of Nick and their conversation in the Church. How so much had changed in such little time.
Then Steve’s thoughts shifted to Jimmy Sanchez and with it arose feelings of unfulfillment, emptiness and dissatisfaction. Regret or not, Steve was beginning to understand revenge.
It won’t bring Nick back, just like Sarah.
So instead, Steve answered, "We head up stairs, pull his lying ass out of bed, drag him through the street and make him confess."
"Good. ‘Cause I saw this look in your eye and for a second thought you were going to say kill ‘em all. That I could not support."
***
Steve ascended the castle stairs one at a time, making sure his movements were silent and stealth. By the time he and Binky had reached the top level, they could see the sun’s rays enter the rooms on the east.
"Someone needs to kill those damn cocks," a man grumbled. He stepped out from the second door on the right, just as Steve and Binky dove into the first room on the left.
“I know that deep voice. That’s Blake,” whispered Binky.
Scratching his beard, Blake walked into the hall wearing pajama bottoms. He stumbled against the wall, regained his footing, and then entered the door across from Steve and Binky.
"Then how would we ever get the town up and working?" came a masculine reply from the same room.
“Justin,” Binky whispered, confident.
Blake spit into the toilette then began urinating. "Have the Preacher say 'the Lord commands you to work 24 hours a day.’ That’ll get it done,” Blake answered, chuckling. “Those idiots down there do whatever he says. It’s pathetic."
From the same room as Justin, a female said, "Come back to bed, Blake. It’s cold."
Steve looked at Binky. “Let me guess, that’s the Preacher’s assistant?”
“No, not Jill. That’s someone else. Sounds more like-”
“Hold that thought.”
“Steve wait!”
But Steve disregarded the request and followed Blake back to his room. From the hallway, Steve watched Blake slide in bed with a woman while Justin was face down on a separate mattress.
Reuniting with Binky, Steve whispered, "This is our chance. You take that room. I counted three people. I'll check the far rooms and find the Preacher. When I get eyes on him, we take them all at the same time, got it?"
Binky grabbed on to Steve's shirt, pulling him back before he rushed off again. "I don't want any blood."
"Neither do I, but if they try anything, I can't promise I’ll aim for the shoulder,” Steve said, nostrils flaring. “You're covering my ass so I hope you don't hesitate either. This only works if we get the jump on all of them."
Binky nodded.
Steve whipped around the corner and took off down the hallway, favoring the shadows. He quickly peeked his head into the third room on the right. For Binky’s benefit, Steve made the number zero with his free hand, before shuffling to the other side of the hallway.
***
Binky watched Steve mouth, “One, two, three,” then rush inside the room. Binky did the same, but initially did not say anything.
Justin, Blake, and a woman whose face was hidden by sheets were not asleep but their eyes were closed. Then came the sounds of screaming and a scuffle in Steve's room, followed by a shotgun blast.
"P-put your hands up!" Binky ordered as the others s
prung awake.
"Wh-wh-wha?" Blake attempted to say.
Justin was drunk but coherent enough to push off the mattress. “What? Huh?”
Blake threw off the sheets, exposing the unknown woman and her naked body, but she was too shocked to be concerned with her uncovered breasts.
“Mrs. Christie?”
"Binky?”
“What the fuck!"
"What the hell’s going on here?"
Blake reached for a handgun that rested on the overturned box next to his bedside.
"Don't do it!" Binky ordered. He shuffled closer and aimed the barrel at Blake’s chest. "Don't you fucking do it! I don’t wanna shoot you but I will!"
Blake growled and retracted his hand.
"All of you, put your hands up! Do it!"
“What the hell are you doing, Binky! Why are you pointing a gun at us?"
"This better be a joke!"
"You are gonna be in some deep shit, Lawkeeper!"
"Shut up! All of you! I know all about your act! You guys are done!"
Blake swallowed and looked suspiciously at the others. He tried to sound convincing when he said, "What act? W-what are you talking about?"
"Everything! The Preacher is a phony and you guys are all in on it!”
Binky pulled out the flyer from his pocket and flicked it their way. The paper caught in the air and fell like a leaf until landing on the ground face up.
"Ah shit,” Justin mumbled; his breath reeked of rum.
“Ah shit is right.”
“Fuck you, lawman. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alice’s lower lip trembled as she looked regretfully at Binky then back at her lover. “Please, I didn’t know-”
“Shut up, bitch! Don’t say anything,” Blake exclaimed, smacking Alice with the back of his hand.
"You guys are done for. Now don't do anything stupid. Steve!"
Binky waited for a reply, but all he could hear were the sounds of at least two people involved in a violent, physical altercation.
Cold sweat ran down Binky’s sideburns. His breathing was steady and fast. But what worried him more was the sound of another shotgun blast. He looked back toward the hallway. "Steve! Steve!"
The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side Page 61
