Forget The Zombies (Book 3): Forget America

by Spears, R. J.

  That was the final cue as the men beside Mo pushed out their arms and shoved Mo forward. Mo took that instant to come fully back to the situation at hand and that’s when he screamed. He screamed all the way down into the pit. It only got worse then as the zombies, ready and waiting, pounced on him.

  I turned away and watched as Joni screamed in horror as she struggled against the giant who held her in check. Robbie fell to his knees and vomited on the platform. All-in-all, it wasn’t our best moment. I blacked out completely a few seconds later.

  I awoke lying in in my bed sometime later. The room was spinning and my head was pounding. I wasn’t sure how long I had been out, but the world outside my room was dark. I heard crickets chirping away, and everything seemed peaceful, ignoring the fact that I had just witnessed one of my people being thrown into a pit of zombies to be devoured. Add to that the fact that all the rest of the us were locked in our rooms by a crazy group of dangerous assholes presumably to share the same fate. No, there was nothing peaceful about this. Not even close.

  I closed my eyes and the spinning stopped. There was little doubt that I had a concussion. There was also little doubt there would be no escaping this place. They had us locked down tighter than a supermax prison and unlike the guards in the prison, I’m sure these guards would show no hesitation in shooting us. No, there’d be no civil rights suit for us being fed to zombies either. We were screwed.

  As if surviving a zombie apocalypse weren’t hard enough, we were about to become victims of a cult of certifiably insane idiots and there was almost nothing we could do about it. There was no justice or fairness, but I had known that since I was seven years old and the school bully had punched me in the gut, taken my lunch money and no one did anything about it.

  I guess I could have become lost in hopelessness and that’s what I did for the next ten minutes as I envisioned our grisly deaths. I reviewed my decision not to run when we were on the highway at the roadblock. I regretted so willingly taking the hospitality of Jeb’s people. I kicked myself for not being able to see through the whole ruse.

  These and all my life’s mistakes and regrets threatened to overwhelm me, but then hope came my way in the form of the sound of someone going ‘psst.’ At first, I didn’t think I had heard anything until it happened again.

  “Pssst,” the sound came from the window.

  I opened my eyes and the room was only mildly tumbling now. I looked to the window into the darkness outside and saw a pair of shiny white eyes staring at me through the bars on my window. Sitting up took a lot of effort and I resisted the urge to toss my cookies after being hit with a wave of nausea which forced me to close my eyes for a few seconds. I reopened them and looked to the window to see that the eyes were still there.

  “Hurry up and get over here before the next guard comes by,” a voice said from outside the window in a sharp whisper.

  I wobbled as I stood and took the two steps from my bed to the window and nearly stumbled, only stopping myself from falling by grabbings the bars. In my condition, the best I could say was, “What?” I wasn’t sure this voice and eyes weren’t a product of having my brain scrambled.

  “Grant, what’s wrong with you?” the voice asked.

  “They whacked me in the head,” I said.

  “Who are you?”

  “It’s Chuck, you idiot.”

  “Chuck, you’re here?” I asked, the words coming out slowly. I was having trouble comprehending where Chuck had come from. We had last seen him jumping off the bus miles away.

  “You need to get your head on straight,” he whispered. “I don’t have much time. How did they take all of you?”

  “They drugged us and locked us in these rooms,” I said. “These people are crazier than shithouse rats.”

  “Yeah, I sort of guess that,” he said. “I’ve been watching them since I got here.”

  “They worship the devil and they threw Mo into a pit of zombies.”

  “What?”

  “They said he was a sacrifice to their Dark Lord. They said it would appease him and keep the rest of the undead at bay.”

  “I knew it was bad when I saw them dragging you across the field, but this is worse than I thought. ”

  “Ya think?!”

  “Calm down, princess,” he said and didn’t speak for a few seconds. “The whole shootout on the highway was an act.”

  “I sort of got there already,” I said, then added, “but just a little too late.”

  “I shot one of their guys hiding in the woods shooting at you.”

  “So, that was you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What took you so long to get here?” I asked.

  “You rode, I walked.”

  “What are you going to do to get us out of here?” I asked.

  “Nothing for now. The place is too heavily guarded.”

  “I have a feeling that we don’t have a lot of time,” I said. “Their leader, Jeb, has a whole shitload of crazy behind his eyes. It’s only a matter of time before he takes another one us to the pit.”

  “I know, I know,” he said. “I just need some time to get something setup.”

  “We may not have time. It’s only a matter of time before they start feeding us to the zombies.”

  “Well, you need to make time. The guard is going to be coming around any time now. I need to get out of here. You hold tight here.”

  “Like I’m going anywhere.”

  With that he stepped back into the darkness and faded away like a shadow as I stood there holding onto the bars and staring into the darkness. He was so quiet that I began to suspect that the whole incident was a product of my addled brain.

  A minute later, the giant came walking by with a rifle over his shoulder. He looked my way and wiggled a finger at me, chiding me for even looking out my window. I stepped back and took a seat on the bed and waited. What I was waiting for, I didn’t know. Sometimes you have to surrender yourself to fate, I guess. I was always terrible at doing that and really wanted to punch someone, but there was no one close enough to hit, so I sat and stewed until I finally decided to lay back down.

  Surprisingly, I fell back asleep, which I attributed to my concussion. None of my dreams were very cheery. In fact, death predominated them as the undead wandered around in the recesses of my dark nightmares the entire time. Needless to say, there were no Sugar Plum Fairies.

  I awoke just before the dawn, a low level anxiety pulsing through me. The morning air was moist and crisp. The giant switched off with another man I hadn’t seen before and he wasn’t any friendlier. He passed my window twice before he noticed me staring at his passage. He didn’t say anything, but just moved on with his rounds.

  Just after the sunrise, I heard a clamoring of footsteps in the hallway and I put my ear to the door to listen. There were several men out there. I listened intently as they went from door to door, unlocking each one. I heard Clint’s voice issuing a series of commands. From what I could hear most of the people complied. I heard Dave put up some token resistance, but ultimately, he must have decided he didn’t didn’t want another rifle butt to the gut.

  They saved me for last. I could have tried the hero act and tried to jump out and take whoever was there, but that didn’t seem to be a winning hand, so I decided to play along and hope that Chuck came to the rescue.

  My door swung open and Jeb and Clint stood outside. Jeb wore a hint of a smile while Clint’s face looked like he had just sucked on a lemon. He also held a gun.

  “Grant, so good to see you up and about,” Jeb said. “I’m so sorry about yesterday. We got a little rough, but you seemed a bit upset and we didn’t want any trouble.”

  His tone was conciliatory, as if I just looked as he just cut in line at lunch or something, instead of tossing one of our friends into a pit of the undead.

  “Clint here has some instructions we’d like you to follow.”

  Clint stepped forward with a pistol in one hand and a set of handcuffs i
n the other.

  “Put these on or one of us will put them on you and it won’t be pleasant,” he said.

  “So, you have the good cop and bad cop thing going on here, huh?” I asked.

  “Just put them on,” Clint said as he threw the cuffs at my feet.

  Knowing I had the weak hand, I retrieved the cuffs and snapped them on. He stepped forward and checked them yanking on them roughly, causing them to cut into my wrists. I thought I saw a slight grin cross his face, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it stung and smiled back.

  When I stepped into the hallway, I saw everyone else out there and all of them were handcuffed just like me. Dave was looking a little worse from the wear and had the start of a black eye. They had left the cuffs off Jessica and Martin, and they did have a wheelchair for Rosalita. While it seemed humane at the moment, it was like the Nazi’s offering the death camp victims a cushy ride to the extermination buildings. It was only a matter of time before things went in the wrong direction for us and we all ended up in the pit.

  “Let’s head to the mission hall for breakfast, shall we?” Jeb asked. It seems he said everything like we had a choice.

  We filed out of the building with most of us with our heads down. I kept mine up, ready for any sign of Chuck, but saw nothing. I was beginning to think that Chuck’s appearance at my window was nothing more than a conjuration of my concussed brain. I mean, if he were out there wouldn’t he be doing something?

  After a quick march across the compound in the dawn air, we entered the mission hall again. The ladies were there again and the tables were decked out with plates and silverware while rich aromas of bacon wafted in from the kitchen.

  I stopped in my tracks and Clint, who had been guarding me, rammed into my back.

  “We’re dumb, but we’re not that dumb,” I said. “We not falling for that again.”

  Clint shoved me forward roughly and I nearly toppled over.

  Jeb stepped toward me with his hands up and said, “Oh no, Grant, the food is safe now. I promise you that.”

  “Please don’t take it the wrong way, but it’s awfully hard to trust you after you drugged us once already.”

  “I can see that,” Jeb said. “I guess we’ll have to prove it to you.” He turned his head toward one of the ladies. “Betty, bring me a random helping of food please.”

  A matronly woman nodded her head and headed off into the kitchen. Jeb stood smiling at me, ear-to-ear, as we waited. Betty came out with a plate heaping with scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Jeb took the plate and motioned for me to sit down.

  I was reluctant to do so, but knew they could force me to sit at any time, so I complied. Jeb sat next me and placed the plate heaping with food down between us.

  “Now, if this food had anything in it, I certainly wouldn’t take a bite of it, now would I?” he asked while picking up a piece of bacon and taking a healthy bite. Using bacon to tempt us was a clear sign that they worshipped the devil. No doubt about it.

  He grabbed a fork, filled it luscious scrambled eggs and filled his mouth, smiling and chewing away at the same time. He swallowed and said, “You’re going to have to eat sometime.”

  He was right and the bacon was causing my stomach to churn and my mouth to water.

  I looked around at our group and they showed the same hesitancy that I had, but they were equally tempted by the food. Dave was practically slobbering at the mouth. I think he might have sold his soul for couple pieces of bacon and some hash browns right then.

  Jeb pushed the plate in front of me and said, “Trust me, there are no drugs in that food. If there were, I’d be out cold, right?”

  While I knew I could hold out, I knew the rest of our group couldn’t. Especially the kids. I decided to take a chance and picked up a piece of bacon. It was thick cut and dripped with grease. I caught a whiff of maple coming from it. My resolve crumbled and I took a bite, chewing quickly, trying to detect any hint of it being dosed, but all I did was revel in bacon goodness, knowing that souls had been lost this very way.

  All of my group watched me as I chewed. Dave hung over his plate so dramatically that I wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to dive in face first and go at the food trough-style.

  The bacon practically melted in my mouth and I decided to follow it up with a forkful of scrambled eggs. They were light and fluffy with just the right amount of salt and pepper. I tasted nothing foreign and felt no ill side effects, so I gave the rest of our group the thumbs up and Jeb clapped me on the back and laughed.

  They dug in, and all that could be heard in the room was lip smacking and chewing interspersed with a few moans of pleasure. Dave asked for a plate of seconds and Jeb’s people were more than happy to provide it. Jay had a second helping of bacon while Robbie abstained from any of the meat products, but still put away a lot of the hash browns and even had a helping of grits.

  Jeb let us eat like that for several minutes before he finally stood and walked to the head of our table. He watched us, beaming from ear-to-ear, for several minutes. After I felt as if my stomach might explode from so much food, I decided to slow down.

  Jeb cleared his throat loudly to get our attention. “I’m so glad that you are enjoying our hospitality, but this is only the beginning of our bounty. We have so much to offer. So, so much, for our bounty comes from the Lord.”

  He didn’t say which lord. Jeb’s people let out a polite round of applause and I knew the sales pitch was about to start. He had already showed us the hard sell, now came the soft sell.

  It’s my opinion that his hard sell pretty much spoiled the deal and he had a devil of a chance of making a sale (no pun intended), but he was going to give it his best shot.

  Jeb continued, “We are an open and inviting group and welcome any of you to join us as we express our devotion. For any of you that wants to join us, you will have the safety and security that you need, because it comes from above.”

  I wanted to add, ‘and below,’ but decided to keep my mouth shut. That didn’t keep me from saying anything, though. I slowly rose from my seat and said, “We find your invitation somewhat concerning as you drugged us, now have us in handcuffs, and fed one of our group to a pit full of zombies.”

  “Dios mios,” Rosalita said and tried her best to cross herself with handcuffs on.

  “What the hell?” Randell said.

  Jay dropped his fork and sat with his mouth open wide.

  I guess not everyone knew about Mo.

  “Yes, yes, our means are sometimes harsh,” Jeb said as his brow furrowed. “We have learned that it is best to use a funnel approach when dealing with outsiders.”

  He must have read my puzzled looked and continued. “It’s like parenting. You need to start out with a set of narrow freedoms to train the child, then as they acclimate and comply, you loosen up the restrictions. Spare the rod, spoil the child, they say.”

  In their case, it was feeding someone to zombies to avoid spoiling the outsiders, I guess. I was beginning to see just how insane this guy was, but kept it to myself.

  Jeb looked around the room as if seeking some sort of confirmation.

  “Sort of like the carrot and the stick, only you start out with the stick,” I said.

  “Exactly,” he said smiling and not seeing my inherent sarcasm.

  “So, what do you want from us?” I asked.

  “We need servants to the Lord,” he said.

  I let that sink in because I’m sure his definition of that was far outside the mainstream.

  “What does that exactly mean?” I asked.

  “Initially, it will mean very little as we indoctrinate your group into our fold,” he said trying to be reassuring and affable. “You will be used on work projects around the compound.”

  Oh great, I thought. We’re going to be slave labor.

  He continued, “And we need people to help collect more of the Lord’s special children.

  It took me a few seconds to catch up on this. �
��Are you talking about zombies?”

  A few of Jeb’s people let out hushed gasps and Jeb’s expression darkened.

  “We do not call them that,” he said in a chiding tone. “They are transfigured by the Lord of the Air into his special emissaries to pave the way for his full and glorious re-entry to our physical world.”

  “And how do you know this?” I asked.

  “Because he sends me prophesy,” he said as confidently as a man saying the sun would rise each day.

  Almost out of nowhere, the crowd erupted in a loud, “Amen!”

  Boy, were we in trouble.

  Jeb put out his hands in a calming gesture to his people. As I looked around the room, I saw the devotion in their faces. There was no doubt that these folks were true believers. It was just what they were believing in was utter and complete bullshit. The problem was that this complete and dangerous bullshit would more than likely get all my people killed.

  Jeb said, “So, I put out an invitation to your people. Who of you would willingly join us?”

  I looked around the long table at our group, scanning the faces. Most looked to the table and some peered into the distance. It was when I got to Carla’s face that I saw a flicker of something and I didn’t like what I saw. The death of her brother and then of her father, who was borderline crazy himself, had weighed heavily on her. Her mother had lost it so badly that she refused to go with our group and was most likely dead now. During our narrow escape from Texas, Carla had to use a gun to protect us. We encountered a group of rednecks who threatened our group. It was a brief and brutal firefight and she had taken down a couple of their men. In remembering the look on her face, she had relished killing one them.

  I watched her as she slowly rose from her seat and said, “I will join you.” Her face blazed with a fierce intensity. “I will willingly worship your Lord of the Air or whatever. These people are responsible for the death of my family. I can’t stand to be around them any longer.”

  Rosalita put out a hand and touched Carla’s arm and said, “You don’t mean this. Your brother was bitten and killed by the soldiers and your parents were so grief stricken that they went a little out of their minds.