by Tristan Vick
“See, wasn’t nothin’.”
“It’s ‘wasn’t anything’, Hank.”
“That’s what ah said,” Hank said defensively. “Whatever. You know what I meant.”
Just then a whole pile of metal clamored to the ground and a well roasted body stood up in the flames. It was burnt beyond all recognition. Stumbling forward it crawled its way out of the burning wreckage and then collapsed at the feet of the men who stood looking dumbfounded. All that remained was one giant piece of barely breathing charcoal. The men instantly took aim.
“Let’s put this poor sonuvabitch out of his misery,” Hank said.
But before anyone could fire a single shot, it raised its hand and a woman’s voice pleaded, “Don’t shoot! Please, don’t shoot me.”
Glancing at one another in order to get a feel of how to react, the men all looked at each other in dismay, mouths hanging wide open. Looking back at the dark figure, they saw something even more unbelievable. The dark charcoal flaked off, then crumbled away, and blew off in the slight evening breeze only to reveal the porcelain white skin of a naked woman lying before them.
“Praise the Lord!” exclaimed Hank. “It’s a sign!”
“What do you want us to do with her?” asked one of his men.
“Put her in one of the trucks,” Hank said motioning to the small caravan behind them. “We’ll take her to see the Reverend. He’ll know what to do.”
The men did as they were told, wrapped a blanket around her, and put her into the back seat of one of the trucks. With a rumble, the train of vehicles started up and then departed the smoldering wreckage and debris. As they made their way back into town, they headed toward the monolithic cathedral that sat at the heart of Newcastle City.
16
Blood Farm
BLOOD PERCOLATED DOWN THROUGH THE narrow plastic tubing and into the collection bag. Alyssa felt lightheaded and her eyes were blurring in and out as she was fighting off the side-effects of the chloroform. She could make what appeared to be a hospital of sorts. Green paint, the color of mashed peas, flaked of the walls in patches. She wanted to rub her eyes, but her wrists were bound. Blinking slowly, she opened her eyes, and the reality before her snapped into focus and hardened into sensate horror. “My God,” Alyssa said to herself in disbelief as she saw about half a dozen others who were hooked up just like her to strands of tubes attached to hideous bloodletting machines. It was like something out of a medieval torture chamber. The terrifying fact suddenly crystalized in her mind. They were being harvested for their blood!
17
No Escape But For Death
RAISING HIS HANDS TO THE rafters, the Reverend Perry Campbell praised the Lord with a robust, “Hallelujah!”
His attentive audience mimicked his devotional gesture and shouted out a hallelujah that rang throughout the church like a robust echo.
“For the day of the Lord’s wrath has cometh! And the Apocalypse is no longer nigh upon us, but it is now! Now, I know what you’re all thinking, because, to tell you the truth, I’m thinking it too. Can we survive this? Will we survive this? And I answer you, yes. Yes! We can and we will persevere! All you gotta’ do is keep the faith! Keep the faith, dear brothers and sisters. Because without faith, you are surely lost.”
The reverend scanned the room like a hungry vulture, then adjusted his sky-blue necktie, and with a big white smile, addressed his congregation. “Like Daniel in the lion’s den, he had faith, and so garnered God’s holy protection. Like Abraham, who is obedient, ready with dagger in hand, God reveals his grace and saves Isaac! I do not deny these are hard times. But this plague, this pestilence…” the reverend said, thumping his fist on his King James Bible, “Don’t be in any way naïve, it was all predicted right here!”
Reverend Campbell held up his King James Bible high above his head for his congregation to see, then, having made his point, he tenderly set the religious compendium back down onto the podium.
A sea of intense eyes fixated on him, and although the electricity was out, the chapel was lit up with hundreds of candles. Every nook and cranny was filled with short and stout candles, and the sides of the walls were lined with candles and candelabrums. The whole inside of the church glowed in a warm soft light which the Reverend Campbell basked in. Perry Campbell was a tall, sturdy, man and had salt and pepper hair which gave him a distinguished look.
With the prosody of a man on fire for God, Reverend Campbell spoke in a voice that carried across the rows of parishioners. A voice he had mastered listening to the old fire and brimstone sermons of his father and his grandfather before him. A voice which could strike fear into the listener and in the very same moment inspire hope.
“During the dark days, during the Tribulation, people shall seek death but not find it! And here today, the living dead roam our city streets, and although they most certainly are no longer among the living, death does not come to them! Revelation nine, ladies and gentlemen. Predicted in His Holy Word!”
Circling about the podium, the reverend paused in front, looked long and hard at his congregation, and raised both hands heavenward, and closed his eyes. “Pray with me now. Lord Jesus, Son Almighty, vanquish this demonic plague as you did the demon called legion at Gerasenes. I beseech you Lord, cast out these demons and give us a sign!” His voice quieting, Campbell turned his thoughts to his people, and added, “Pray with me, brothers and sisters. Dear Heavenly Father on High, redeem us from this sinful world. Let the cleansing blood of Christ wash down upon us, let the earth burn with your inferno of reckoning, and let your wrath consume everything that is forsaken. But, dear Lord, as your humble servants, we beseech thee, spare your faithful followers as you spared Job from ultimate ruin. But if you cannot, if you will not, if we are not pure enough, if our hearts are not true enough, if we are not worthy enough … then allow us perish along with the rest of the sinners of this wicked world! For your will be done, on earth as in heaven. Amen!”
A chorus of amens went off in waves throughout the church. Nearly a hundred onlookers mumbled in tongues together, hands raised toward the rafters, and the reverend basked not in their praise, but in the fact that he could so easily bend them to his will.
Rachael Ramirez sat in a bath far too cold for her liking, as a fleet of hands washed her body clean with soap and sponges. A woman in an elegant gown sat in a chair before her smiling. With a soft voice she said, “There now, child, we’ll get you all presentable and looking like a real lady again.” She then raised her hands, clapped, and another gaggle of servants rushed to her side. “After you’re finished here, I want you to bring her down to the chapel.”
“Yes, mum,” the women said simultaneously. They all bowed, as if they were addressing royalty, and then scurried off. The woman looked back at Rachael who ignored her unnerving gaze. Something about her eyes, they seemed void of any genuine emotion. This woman, whoever she was, had hollow eyes. Almost as if she had no soul.
“I am Mrs. Campbell, the pastor’s wife. You may address me by Mrs. Campbell or Sister Mary Campbell. Mary is my first name. What shall I call you, dear?”
“My name is Rachael.”
“My, what a beautiful name,” Sister Mary Campbell gasped in exaggerated delight. “Well, Rachael, I think you’ll find it a safe haven here with us. We have been truly blessed. Although the city is falling apart all around us, we are under the watchful protection of our Lord. But you will see for yourself once you get all cleaned up. My husband would like you to come down and tell everyone your experience and how you came to be in our care. Would that be alright?”
“I suppose so,” Rachael said despondently. But even as she answered yes she harbored secret suspicions. Why would they want her to address the congregation?
Mrs. Campbell’s smile grew into a manic Cheshire grin. “You must pardon my manners, but there are a few ground rules I must lay out, or my husband will be furious with me.” Mary Campbell laughed artificially and continued on, “First, no guns, or for that m
atter, weapons of any kind. Only Hank and his men are allowed them. And only for security purposes. Second, you will share the chores and graciously accept what is asked of you, no matter how strange the request. Third, no cursing. You are in a house of the Lord. Fourth, if you go outside the sanctuary of this church, we cannot guarantee your safety. In fact, it is highly recommended that you stay inside where it is safe. Hank’s men are stationed all around and can protect us if need be. Fifth, if you do decide to stay with us, you will be expected to take a husband, of your choosing, of course.”
Rachael’s head jeered to the side, and she gasped. “What? I’m sorry, but what do you mean I will be expected to take a husband?”
“Darling,” Mrs. Campbell laughed, “If you haven’t noticed, the end of the world is upon us. How else will we repopulate the earth with God’s chosen? Like I was saying, you will be expected to follow all these.”
“If I refuse?”
If it were at all possible, and apparently it was, Mrs. Campbell’s smile grew even bigger, tighter, almost to the point of looking downright menacing. “Don’t be silly, my child. Nobody has ever refused. Who are we to refuse God’s will?”
Rachael searched for the right words to object to this bronze aged nonsense, but before she could come up with something she was suddenly pulled out of the tub by three hefty women, set down, and dried off.
In the next instant they took her measurements. One woman went out of the room for a moment but quickly returned again with a crimson red dress.
Dressed, and with a fleet of hands doing up her hair, Rachael looked at herself in the mirror and admired the contrast the elegant red dress added to her white skin and raven black hair.
“Gorgeous!” chirped Mrs. Campbell, clapping her hands daintily. “Absolutely stunning!”
Mary Campbell suddenly snapped her fingers and the entire team of women all scurried out. Then turning toward Rachael, she said with her phony voice and her counterfeit smile, “Now come with me, child. We have to show you off to the whole church!”
Rachael didn’t like being referred to as a child. It felt demeaning. What’s more, being treated like Mary Campbell’s personal Barbie doll wasn’t helping matters any. Looking at her hostess, Rachael smiled. Mary Campbell smiled back, but it looked more like a grin pressed permanently onto the face of someone of pure psychosis than anything resembling sincere emotion. Rachael sighed.
Mrs. Campbell ushered Rachael down the hall and through a side entrance and hurried along the wall behind the ambulatory. At the end they hooked a sharp left into the main hall. Rachael could hear people gasping at the sight of her. Then her eyes met the Reverend Campbell’s piercing blue eyes. He stood in front of the alter smiling at her. At least his smile appeared genuine, Rachael thought to herself.
Although Rachael didn’t want to admit it, she couldn’t help but find herself attracted to him. He was a tall man with distinguished good looks. His suit was a lustrous black and his necktie was a nice shade of blue with a silken shimmer to it. The reverend grinned like a politician and extended his hand to help her up the raised dais and onto the podium stand.
“Praise the Lord! Ladies and gentleman, the woman Hank saw rise from the ashes, like a phoenix. Our first fully resurrected body! Our first sign! A sign that the Second Coming is upon us!”
The audience erupted in cheers as the Perry Campbell whispered into her ear, “Tell them who you are and why you’re here.” Campbell turned back around, skipped down the stairs, and took a seat next to his wife in the front pew. Rachael looked at the audience with a nervous gaze and her mind raced as she searched for the right words to say, but none came to mind. Suddenly the sensation of being in the wrong place at the wrong time overcame her and she felt like fleeing.
“I-I don’t think I’m supposed to be here,” Rachael said, slowly descending the steps. Rachael paused, and looked at the stunned reaction of the audience, still waiting for her to say something. Panicking, Rachael flew down the stairs and ran straight past all the pews as she cut through the nave and headed for the large arched doors in the back of the chapel.
“Stop her!” shouted the reverend. Two large men in the very back stood up and blocked Rachael’s exit route. She spun back around and dashed back toward the front of the church. The pastor stood up and met her at the front alter and put his hands out to catch her if need be. He gestured for her to take a seat.
“Just calm down, my dear. Take a deep breath. Everything will be all right. It was just a bit of stage fright is all.” Turning toward his audience, he added in a light tone, “I should know … I have often experienced it myself.”
To Rachael’s ears it all sounded like canned laughter. The audience took their cue and like stupid sheep just followed along with the whole show. Nothing about this place seemed natural. Everything felt rehearsed or pantomime. Looking around, everyone here either grinned like fools or else cried hysterically as they bobbed their heads and spoke in glossolalic tongues. The congregation was indistinguishable from a bona fide loony bin.
Hank stood up and addressed the congregation. “Look, I ain’t the smartest man, but I know what I gone done seen. I seen this woman’s burnt husk of a corpse rise from the ashes of that helicopter we shot down over Linden Park. Right then and there I knew it was a sign. A sign from God!”
The audience cheered as the reverend shouted over them a jubilant “Halleluiah!”
“Wait a minute,” Rachael said, addressing Hank, just as the ruckus died down, “You shot us down? Why on earth would you do that? Why would you kill all those innocent people?!”
Reverend Campbell stood up and raised his hand to stop Hank from answering. “I’ll answer that one Hank, if you don’t mind? Thanks for your courage in speaking out. Your faith is pure.”
Hank grinned and then sat back down.
Perry Campbell turned to the audience and, using his stage voice, addressed his audience. “My brethren, hear me. When they constructed the Tower of Babble, did not the Lord warn them? Their hubris drove them to believe they were just as mighty and powerful as God, and to humble them, he toppled their citadel and cursed them with confusion so that they might learn what it meant to be obedient, patient, and unassuming. Vainglory was the sin of the Devil, and for his hubris he was cast out of Heaven! Let not it be your sin too.”
Rachael frowned and put her hands on her hips. “You didn't answer my question. What does any of this have to do with killing those innocent people? With trying to kill me?”
“Innocent?!” Campbell scoffed. “Nobody is innocent, my dear. We are all born into this world as sinners. It is only through the grace of God that he sent his only Son to—”
“Bullshit!” Rachael yelled out. Mary Campbell’s eye widened with silent rage as Rachael broke one of her sacred rules. Rachael ignored Mrs. Campbell’s overly zealous response and with clenched fists she marched toward where the reverend stood. Some of Hanks men instantly stood up to run interference, but Reverend Campbell motioned for them to stand down.
Wagging her finger in his face, Rachael shouted, “What gives you the right to decide who lives and dies?”
“My dear, the Lord is sovereign. His word is final. We follow his will. And like Babylon, our society has become tainted with greed, pride, and all forms of corruptible disease.”
Rachael’s eyes broiled with rage as she glared at Campbell but she said nothing. She knew that anything she had to say would only fall upon deaf ears. Here, in the house of the Lord, pious conviction was so thick it easily drowned out all common sense and reason.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Campbell asked with a fake humility wafting on his voice. “We shall purify ourselves by getting rid of everything that has brought suffering into the world. From corrupt corporations to demonic technology, it must go.”
“So you murdered innocent men and women to make a theological point?”
“Murder?!” the reverend gasped in protest. “No, my child. Those people suffered and died because they wou
ld not turn to God. They sided with the devil, and as the Lord sayeth, he who is not with me is against me!”
The audience erupted in cheers of glee followed by a chain reaction of hyperbolic amens. Rachael really was starting to grow worried. She turned to run again, but one of the ushers caught her by the arm. She shoved him off and swiftly snatched his gun out of his side holster. She slid back the slide of the barrel, loaded a round into the chamber, and aimed it straight at the pastor’s head.
“Now don’t be foolish, child,” said Perry Campbell, raising his hands defensively and taking a few steps back. “We are only offering you a simple and clean life of repentance and modesty. You can find happiness here, I assure you.”
“I somehow doubt that,” Rachael said bitterly.
“I’ve been patient with you, child. Just know that if you’re not with us, you’re against us. If you’re not one of us then you’re one of them.”
Rachael had no idea as to what he was referring to, but it was clear that the reverend was as mad as a hatter. She held the gun steady and said in a calm voice, “If it’s all the same with you, I’ll take my chances on the outside.”
Just then a shot rang out.
Perry Campbell jumped back with fright, checking himself for wounds, but to his great relief he soon found that he was unscathed. Looking back up at Rachael, he noticed a dark wet area seeping out of her chest. Someone had shot her from behind. Rachael fell to her knees and landed at Campbell’s feet. Blood oozed from the corner of her mouth and dribbled down her chin as she sat in shock. Rachael began to feel the room spin frantically around her, the dizzy spell brought on by her drastic loss of blood. Everything was hazy and there was a brilliant white light flooding her vision. Before she knew it she spiraled down and crumpled to the floor. By the time she hit the ground she was already dead.
