by Roberts, EM
The woman--he’d met on the side of the road. She was his gift from God. He knew that. Just as God created Eve, he was given this woman as a traveling companion. At first, she’d protested not realizing she was a part of his destiny. He’d taken her to wife in the physical sense and punished her when she tried to escape or interfere with his plans. Eventually, she’d come to realize she was also favored by God. Now, she came willingly to his bed and helped him wreak vengeance on the sinners. Sometimes, however, he still had to remind her of their destiny.
He glanced at the bodies lying in the meadow. There were ten this time. For some odd reason, humans couldn’t survive alone. They gravitated toward each other for comfort. These people were from various states along the east coast. New York, Pennsylvania, Indiana, and Ohio were a few of the places these people had told him they were from. Eventually when people grouped together, this would lead to sin. Murder, fornication, greed, and crime always crept in when people grouped together. This bunch had been so naive and trusting. They’d been excited to see a fellow survivor. That had worked to his advantage.
He thought back to the first group he’d encountered in Ohio. The bombing of Columbus and Cincinnati had left very few survivors. He and his woman had been given shelter in a small community in the north eastern part of the state near the Pennsylvania border. That was two months ago. It’d been snowing, and his truck would go no further. It was just their luck they’d come upon the group. The first thing that had been asked was, “What kind of supplies do you have?” It wasn’t, “We’re glad to see you. Here, you can share what is ours.” Their greedy nature had been the first sin. The second was the two men holding hands and being affectionate with each other. Homosexuality was a sin worse than murder. Those who condoned it deserved that judgment as well. As the group was sleeping, he and the woman had silently slit their throats. He’d made a sign in their blood proclaiming, “Vengeance is Mine, Sayeth the Lord” and left it with the bodies.
This second group was in Northern West Virginia. Having procured another vehicle and more supplies, he and the woman had continued on their mission. They’d been delayed for a couple of weeks when he’d developed pneumonia. His faith, however, had seen him through his illness. He knew God wasn’t finished with him. He knew it was Satan’s way of delaying his duties.
Satan had reared his ugly head again and cast more trials and tribulations their way. A broken down vehicle, and the woman had become ill after eating tainted food. A detour had to be taken after a bridge was blown. As many setbacks as they’d had, he knew he must continue no matter what. That second group of people in northern West Virginia had refused to even allow him and the woman to enter their community. After explaining he was a preacher and was distributing food, the greedy fools had tried to take his supplies by force. Little did they know he had .9mm in his jacket pocket. The woman did as well. They’d both become adept and accurate at using their weapons. They’d emptied their guns into the five survivors.
He’d gathered those dead bodies, wrapped nooses around their necks, and hung them from the barricades the sinners had erected to keep out their fellow man. He’d felt satisfaction upon watching their bodies swaying in the breeze. Once again, he’d left a sign in blood proclaiming his vengeance in the Lord’s name. After all, as a Christian, it was his duty to witness to the sinner. Maybe those stumbling across the remains would realize the error of their ways and repent.
This last group had at first seemed charitable. Oh Lord, was he to find no one worthy of sharing this new world, this second chance? These people had very little food, but what they had, he was welcome to share. For a brief moment, he’d been fooled into believing he may have found some worthy people. Then, he’d been proven wrong. Their vulgar language and wanton behavior made them less than ideal as candidates for the new world. Why, one of the women had suggested she could please his wife and him at the same time! Shameless hussy! He hoped she’d suffered more than anyone when she’d died. Instead of slitting their throats or shooting them, he’d placed poison in his gifts of food. He smiled thinking back on how eagerly they’d accepted those gifts. Now, he was ready to arrange them as a warning to other sinners.
“Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord,” he proclaimed to the heavens, his arms outstretched and reaching.
The woman moved closer to him. “Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord,” she mimicked looking to the sky.
The two of them worked together in tandem to tie the dead bodies to fence posts along the side of the road. This time his message proclaimed, “The Lord hath rained down his wrath upon the sinners.”
After finishing the gruesome task, the two sat down for a meal of beef jerky and canned peaches. He took in the bodies hanging in their macabre poses and smiled. He took pleasure in his work. Soon, they would enter Kentucky, and from there, he would wait for God to instruct him.
Chapter 7: Fort Johnson
“Well, I’m calling dibs on that school teacher who just got here yesterday. He looks like he needs somebody to rock his world,” Roe laughed as she hung a shirt on the clothesline.
Ella squeezed water from a pair of blue jeans and smiled. Roe was such a riot and always ready to laugh. That was what she loved most about her friend.
“What are you laughing about? I’m serious. The last man I had sex with tried to have me for dinner and not in a good way. You haven’t been laid in years...God...years.” Roe stated in disbelief and awe, stopping what she was doing and turning her eyes to Ella making her feel like an act in a freak show.
“Roe, that’s the last thing on my mind. We’ve got so much going on here I haven’t had time to think about anything,” Ella said as she stood and stretched. She sure had a stronger appreciation for her ancestors now that she had to wash clothes by hand and cart water from the well. How did women from the seventeen and eighteen hundreds do this on a daily basis?
She looked around her. Her home had changed so much in six months. The fences had been one of major changes. The farm already had white wooden fencing around the house and the barn which encompassed about ten acres. She, her father, and even Roe had spent days working on the fences covering the spaces between the boards and adding to the height. The result wasn’t pleasing to the eye, but it kept the creatures out and made it hard for the survivors to get in.
First, she, her father, and Roe had fought their way into town and ransacked the local farm store taking all of the chicken wire and barbed wire his truck would hold. Her father had stood guard and killed the infected while she and Roe had worked the fence line. This process had involved several more dangerous trips for supplies resulting in the sturdy fence around the entire property composed of multiple types of wire, wood, and poles. They’d also built a front gate to the property. It’d been a lot of hard work, but it’d needed to be done.
She looked out over the property. There were several RVs and a couple of vehicles that hadn’t been there six months ago. When survivors had arrived, her father wouldn’t send them away. It was not in his nature. He’d always been charitable and concerned for his fellow man. That hadn’t changed. He gave them a choice of staying or going, but he let them know if they stayed, there were rules to follow. If they chose not to stay, they could trade for goods. If they had nothing to trade, her father still made sure they were taken care of. Everyone helped out, and everyone was expected to respect each other for it.
She and Roe finished hanging the laundry and made their way back to the house. Stepping inside, she heard a young child’s laughter and smiled. It was good to hear little Carly having fun. The child had been so terrified when Ella found her on a trip to Knoxville. She’d gone there to scout for supplies but had ended up fighting off the infected to save the little girl. Carly’s mother hadn’t been so lucky. Traumatized by the event, the little girl hadn’t talked for weeks. Theo, Ella’s father, had been the one to bring Carly back to the land of the living. He was like a Pied Piper to children. They loved him.
“You going in to
the meeting?” Roe asked, taking a drink of water.
“You know I’m not really into religion that much anymore since mom died and this whole shit storm hit," Ella replied, uneasily. She didn’t feel comfortable talking about religion because she questioned the existence of God. What kind of God let something like this happen to his people? To her mother? She’d believed in God her whole life, hadn’t ever question it before. Now, she couldn’t stop.
“But your dad makes it different. He just reads a passage and then let’s everyone talk. He doesn’t preach hell and brimstone. Really, it’s more like therapy than anything. You should go. I know he’d like it.”
Ella sighed. She guessed she could. There was that new person who’d come in, the one Roe’d called dibs on. She supposed she should see what the fuss was all about. She pitied the poor guy because Roe usually got her way.
The two made their way to the living room where the meetings took place. Her father had been leading these services since they’d gained their first houseguest. They presently had ten people living on the farm not counting the teacher who’d arrived yesterday. Jackie Kincaid, one of the previous ten, was the only remaining survivor in the town of Taylor’s Creek. After living on his own a couple of months, he’d arrived in the dead of winter, almost frozen on their doorstep. Of course, her father had taken Jackie in. Since then, he’d repaid the debt by hunting for game and killing the infected. This time, Ella, encouraged his poaching and often hunted with him. They’d never discussed the night Jackie’s brother had been killed. Ella had come to look at the big guy as a brother and friend. Jackie also took care of any mechanical issues as he and his brother had owned a service garage before the outbreak.
She looked around the room. Smiling, she noticed that Ava Taylor, a thirty something ex-librarian was holding the hand of Austin Mitchell, a construction worker, both of whom had contributed greatly to the group. Ava knew everything. From what plants and berries were edible to rigging up an outdoor shower, there wasn’t a how-to book Ava hadn’t read and memorized. Even though, she was smart, Ava wasn’t a know it all. In fact, she fit the stereotypical idea of a librarian to a tee. She was quiet and shy. She also looked like a librarian with her brown hair scraped back into a ponytail and her schoolmarm glasses. Austin, in turn, fit the construction worker stereotype quite well except he wasn’t loud or obnoxious. He was big, muscular, and rough looking, but he was also polite and kind.
Ella was happy for the two of them. She had to wonder, though, who had made the first move because they both were so introverted she had a hard time believing either one would flirt with the other. Love in the Apocalypse...Anything was possible, she guessed. People didn’t stop caring or being attracted to each other just because it was the end of the world.
Seated beside the two of them was Margie, a woman in her early fifties. Even though she and Roe were similar in age, the two were completely different. Roe could easily pass for a woman in her early forties, whereas Margie looked like she could be sixty. Her limp gray hair looked greasy today and her clothes hung on her thin frame. She’d arrived with Carlos, another member of their small group. The two had met up in Kentucky where Carlos had saved Margie from a group of the infected. Ella learned Margie had watched her husband, daughter, son in law, and three grandchildren all become infected. She hadn’t the heart to kill them, so she’d left town leaving that chore to someone else. She had no destination in mind and had simply been traveling along mindlessly when she ran into Carlos. Ella felt sorry for the woman and couldn’t imagine the kind of loss Margie had suffered.
Carlos Gonzalez was a twenty-four year old immigrant who’d been working in Knoxville at a Mexican restaurant. His work visa had been due to expire shortly after the outbreaks. Not that it mattered anymore, though. He was a handsome young man, tall and slender. Always smiling, he was ready to do anything that was needed. Ella liked him a lot, although she had to confess she sometimes had a hard time understanding his English. She’d been working with him in the evenings on his vocabulary and pronunciation. They laughed a lot during the lessons, and she’d come to like him a lot.
The one person in the group Ella really didn’t care that much for was Dean Scott. Around her own age, Dean just rubbed her the wrong way. It wasn’t that he was rude or disrespectful; it was he thought he knew it all and his way was always the right way. He was overbearing without really being aware of it. When she’d learned he used to be an assistant football coach at the University of Tennessee, she hadn’t been impressed. In fact, she’d attributed that to his bossy nature. She was sure in high school, he’d probably been a jock used to getting his own way. Well, that wouldn’t happen here.
There was no denying that Dean was attractive. Around 6’2, he was a block of walking muscle. Even though, there wasn’t any workout equipment on the farm, he spent his free time doing pushups and jumping jacks for exercise. He’d never made any attempt to flirt with either her, Roe, or Ava, making Ella wondered if he thought he was better than them. Ella mused he was probably in love with himself. Or gay. That was probably it.
“What’s so funny, Miss Ella?” Carly asked, skipping over and climbing into Ella’s lap.
“Just thinking about a dream I had. I’ll tell you later,” she said, knowing there was a good possibility Carly would forget by that time. Even if she didn’t, Ella would make something up involving princesses and rainbows.
Ella’s father cleared his voice and spoke: “Well, I’m glad we’ve all made it another day, and we have God to thank fer that. Today, I’m gonna to read a scripture from Corinthians, and then we’ll talk about whatever ya want to talk about.”
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
After reading the scripture, Ella’s father removed his glasses and leaned back in his chair. He looked around the room at the faces before him. All of the people in the room were there because they wanted to be. He didn’t require them to be here. Theo commanded respect from the residents because he was fair and because he listened to people. He didn’t care their race, religious belief, or sexual preference. Those were things he never asked, and they didn’t come up.
“I want ya guys to think on this scripture. I don’t want ya to think about what you’ve lost. I know it’s hard to do that. I want ya to try and think if there’s anything you’ve learned and gained during this ordeal. I want ya to focus on how to improve yer spirit because it is yer spirit that’s eternal. It’s yer spirit that makes you who ya are,” Theo smiled as he looked around the room.
“Now, we’ve a newcomer to our group. Young man, why don’t ya introduce yerself and let us know what ya want us to know. We don’t judge anyone here. God is the judge of us all,” stated Theo, his smile genuine and encouraging as he placed his reading glasses on top of his Bible.
The man in question smiled nervously and cleared his throat.
“Well, uh, my name is Griff Evans, and I was a high school history teacher in my former life. I really loved teaching and introducing the students to history. I also was a youth group counselor for my church. I lost my wife and two sons in the outbreaks. I’m from the north of here, and I thought I might travel south far enough that I don’t have to worry about the winter anymore. It was a struggle without electricity this past winter,” he nervously replied, his words rushing together.
Ella observed the newcomer. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. His hair was parted to the side and fell to his shoulders. He was attractive but in a nerdy kind of way. He was tall, but not as tall as Dean or Carlos. He was not built as muscular as Dean either, but he seemed rather wiry and lean. He probably had to be to have made it this far. She wondered where he meant when he said “North?” She di
dn’t ask, however, because she knew that if he wanted anyone to know where he was from, he would have said.
“I was traveling on the interstate and saw your directions to this place. I thought I would check it out, and here I am. I’m so glad to finally be with such kind, giving people. I know the Lord must have led me this way for a reason,” he said, his eyes filling with tears of appreciation.
“Well, um, nice to meet you Griff. We’re sorry for your loss,” Ella spoke uncomfortably and then changed the subject because she wasn’t very good at comfort and tears, “Isn’t it time for a song?”
“Well, since ya so graciously offered, daughter of mine,” her father laughed, breaking the awkward silence that had appeared with Griff’s confession.
“What? Ella can sing? I thought all she could do was bitch at me, excuse my language,” Dean mocked from his chair.
Ella gave him a dirty look. Yes, she could sing, and she would sing so freaking great that Dean would choke on his own ego.
“Of course, Dad. Anything for you. What would like?” she asked, walking over to her mother’s piano and sitting on the padded floral bench.
“How about ‘Amazing Grace?’ Most of us know that one. You lead off, sweetheart.” he requested coming to stand by her.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound! That saved a wretch like me. I once
was lost, but now I’m found, was blind but now I see…
As Ella continued singing in her strong clear voice, she heard other voices chiming in. She smiled and continued to play, letting them take over the song. This reminded her of being a young girl singing in church each week. She would always beg her brother Eli to accompany her because he was the better piano player. Sometimes, he would, but more often than not, he wouldn’t. Singing in front of a bunch of bible thumpers wasn’t his thing, he’d said.
She finished the song with a flourish. The group gathered around, smiling and complimenting her on her talent. She thanked each of the participants assuring them it was their voices that made the song better.
