The Reaper: No Mercy

by Sean Liebling

  "I think it's good. Solid people in charge. Some loose cannons here and there, but all manageable. Good location," Sokowski responded.

  "Are you guys going to ignore me as if I wasn't here?" growled the Reaper while he traced a finger over the drawing Emma had given him, then looked up, the scowl on his face causing Purcell to laugh again.

  "Reaper! You should see your face when you're looking at Emma's drawings of you and her. The Reaper doll is still a major hit by the way, and Jay is still complaining about there not being a Commander doll," Purcell quipped.

  "Well, they wouldn't be able to make it anatomically correct from what I've heard, something about too much material or something," deadpanned Sokowski. The commander, or Jay to his friends, was widely known to have been a 'gifted' player in the Newaygo community. He’d done a lot of growing up, but it had taken a zombie incursion or three along with an attack by marauders and also rogue government agents, including an airstrike that did not succeed. Throughout those ordeals, he had earned the respect of the military that had joined him and the community at large. He was one of those true commanders you read about in the history books in school.

  "You're both think you’re too funny, don't you? And if I hadn't seen you in action, Sokowski, I would question Congress for approving that commission and promotion."

  "There's a Congress left?" both Purcell and Sokowski said simultaneously, then high fived each other as the Reaper simply rolled his eyes.

  "Actually I need to talk to you, and it's important. Sorry, sir," Purcell was now addressing Sokowski, "but I don't have clearance to inform you of developments. I’m sure they'll fill you in upon your return." But Sokowski was already shaking his head.

  "Don't worry about it, kid. Reaper?" As Sokowski turned to the Reaper, he saluted with precision—a salute the Reaper returned just as precisely, and then both men shook hands, strong and hard. "As always, sir, it's been a pleasure, and with the commander’s permission, please call on us frequently."

  "I will, Captain, and thank you," responded the Reaper. Sokowski waved to his waiting men and they all boarded the plane as the Reaper turned to Lieutenant Purcell. Jason had already both thanked and congratulated all the men of the Red and Blue Teams, and now waited patiently for Purcell to fill him in. The young Ranger officer waved the Reaper over to a nearby truck hood and, after pulling a large topographic map from an inner pocket, spread it out.

  "Here is the projected staging area, Reaper." Purcell used his finger to indicate the city of Topeka, Kansas. "Any chance you're going there next? Intelligence indicates quite a few survivor groups in the area. We need that airport. It will support our air wing elements for the last push against the shadow government, and it's also the maximum distance Blackhawks can fly with external tanks."

  "That would take some time, Purcell, but no. I'm heading here next.” And the Reaper laid out his own map of the area, with quite a few red circles covering its surface. "Macon, Missouri is my next destination."

  "May I ask why, sir?"

  "Because they purchased a large number of captives already from this marauder group, and my sources indicate they’re crucifying the people that refuse to worship their particular god."

  "I see." Purcell was nodding with immediate understanding.

  "Is there a timetable I need to be aware of?" the Reaper inquired.

  "Well, Jay says spring, so you have time to secure Topeka, but that's relative." The Reaper was nodding.

  "If he's attacked, he'll counterattack, is what you're saying."

  "You know him better than I do, Reaper."

  "That I do. OK, well, I have some wrongs to right first. My first mission is to the Lord, as you know, Lieutenant."

  "Yes, sir! We all get it, and support you. In five months I'm sure you'll be in Topeka and that you’ll have the airfield and surrounding facilities under control."

  "We'll see. I go where the Lord tells me, but ..." and now the Reaper slapped Purcell's shoulder, as he was looking a bit worried. "The Lord has been telling me to move in the direction Jay needs to reunite humanity."

  Purcell visibly breathed a sigh of relief. The Reaper was not only a friend and brother-in-arms, but also Newaygo's advance scout against the last stronghold of the shadow government that had started this whole 'end of the world' mess. He nodded thoughtfully as he looked at Macon on the map, before looking back up into the Reaper’s eyes.

  "Call if you need anything. That's only about ten miles and well within field radio distance. You can contact Paris and they can get a hold of us."

  "I will, thanks! Now get on that plane and take those wounded to better facilities. Don't forget Emma's present. I won't forgive you, though the Lord might."

  "Got it, Reaper. You take care and make a small attempt at staying safe." Then Purcell was shaking the Reaper’s hand again before loping back to the plane, Emma's present safely tucked away in his jacket.

  The Reaper stood back with the others and watched as the plane started up, then turned a hundred and eighty degrees. Rodriguez stood beside him, and together they watched as the C130 made a rapid ascent before curving gently east and finally disappearing into the distance.

  "You're leaving soon, aren't you," spoke Rodriguez and it was not a question.

  "I'm needed elsewhere," responded the Reaper.

  "We can never repay this debt and this hope you've provided for us."

  Slowly the Reaper turned to Rodriguez and frowned. "There is no debt," he growled.

  "Yeah there is, on my books anyways."

  "I'm going to Macon next."

  Rodriguez pondered that for a moment before responding. "It's only ten miles away or so. We can go with you." But the Reaper was shaking his head.

  "I work alone, I go in alone. The Lord will protect me or call me home to be with my family."

  "If you need us then, we'll be there! Count on it."

  Slowly the Reaper smiled as all the events over the last month came into sharp focus within his head and nodded. "I'm counting on it!" The Reaper wasn’t going to hold their hands. They were capable of making it on their own ... and if he needed help in the coming days ... he knew whom to call.

  *****

  Heidi had been moved to a nearby home that had been cleared, and others with similar psychological conditions were in adjoining rooms. Rossi would get to all of them, but right now, Heidi needed his attention the most.

  Dr. Rossi entered the smallish room slowly so as not to alarm the young girl within. The door he left open, and made sure he did not block her path to it. In his hands he held a small children's book. Slowly he moved around the room and viewed the various drawings, pictures, even snapshots of strangers she had used for decorations. He had been watching her now for several days. Heidi hid in her room, only going to the cafeteria for meals when forced to do so, and many of the staff had started bringing them to her. He glanced at her small desk and saw breakfast dishes sitting there. It was obvious the child was sinking into depression, and it was past time for him to act. He had wanted to meet with her in a more generic room, one without a bed, but it was proving difficult to get her to leave what she now perceived as familiar surroundings. With luck, they would soon be in a more hospitable environment, but in the here and now, he worked with what he had.

  "Heidi," he said softly as he approached her bed.

  "Yes, Doctor." Her voice was faint, with a definite tone of despondency; she looked up from where she sat at the end of her bed, her hands tightly clenched in her lap, her eyes constantly shifting between the doctor and the open doorway. Finally they settled on Rossi. Those liquid pools of amber were wide with an innocence and hurt that belied her age, and inwardly Rossi shuddered at what he knew she had been through.

  "May I sit, please?" He indicated the small chair next to her bed.

  "Sure."

  Rossi settled himself carefully and then held the book out to her.

  "I would like you to read this for me."

  She watched him clos
ely, and he detected resistance as her face clouded up. He quickly added, "Humor me please," and she slid across the bed until she could just barely reach the book. Taking it from his outstretched hand, she turned it over several times before she flipped through the pages, then looked up at him.

  "This is a children's book?" It was both a statement and a question, and Rossi smiled tenderly at her.

  "That's correct. Read it please. It won't take more than a couple of minutes.”

  She looked at him with skepticism, then shrugged and opened the small book. The pages flipped with regularity, and a few minutes later she was setting it down on the bed near him, but in a place he would have to stretch to reach.

  "I can read, you know."

  "I know, but you told the staff you didn't want to go to the school we’re starting."

  "Is that what this is? A test to see if I can read so that I don't have to go to school?"

  "No Heidi, but I do have a question. What did Tommy do to prevent the cookie monster from getting the cookies his mother made him?"

  "He climbed out his window and escaped where the monster couldn't follow him. That's simple, Doctor."

  "Okay, now you and I will create a story together. A story named Heidi, and how she kept the monster away."

  "You're serious?" Now she appeared angry, but Rossi was not deterred. He had been through this before, many times, with other patients.

  "Yes," and Rossi began the story. He told her about a girl named Heidi who had a bag of candy. The candy was delicious, but there were only a few pieces left, and her brother's friend wanted them. She could not hide the candy because they also smelled delicious, and her brother's friend would find them. So, she had to find a safe place to eat them where he couldn't catch her.

  "Maybe she could just share them!" Heidi had finally spoken; it was obvious the story intrigued her.

  "Oh, but this is special candy and she'll never have any more, and more importantly, it was given to her by her parents, and it was all she had left of their gifts." Instantly Heidi's face clouded again and she started to turn away. Rossi was quick, however, and spoke again, telling her that to respect her parents Heidi had to hide, had to get away. Like Tommy did against the cookie monster. He continued on for several minutes, and waited until he once again had her full attention before he asked his first question.

  "What should Heidi do? How can she escape?"

  "Uhm, well, she could climb out the window quickly."

  "Good, but then what? She's sitting in the window, with nowhere to go."

  "No! There's a tree outside, of course."

  "There is?"

  "Sure. There has to be a tree there or something she can do to get away." Heidi's voice and mood had transformed, her face animated and her body posture showing her excitement. Rossi knew at that moment he could get through to her.

  "Well Heidi, since you know so much about what to do, I'd like you to finish the story."

  And Heidi did, and as she spoke her smile lit up, and her voice became animated, stronger and more confident. Down the tree and up a ladder too small for the brother’s friend to climb, then a safe hiding spot for Heidi to hide in while she ate the gift, the candy her parents had given her. The boy kept yelling but eventually he went away and Heidi was happy.

  As Heidi came to the end of the story and stopped speaking, Dr. Rossi looked over at her and saw her smiling.

  "That was a wonderful story, Heidi. May I move closer? I mean you no harm," and he rose, then sat next to her when she nodded. She was still smiling and he held his hand out again, palm upward. With glacial slowness she once again took his hand and Rossi squeezed it gently as he stared into her eyes. Slowly she responded.

  "I miss my parents, Doctor. I miss them badly."

  "I know child, and it's OK to cry for them," he said, and almost instantly the dam within Heidi burst and suddenly she was in his arms, crying against his chest, her body shuddering with deep wracking sobs as her grief burst forth. Rossi let the tears trickle down his own cheeks as he held her gently and kissed the top of her head. This was major progress, and he felt, with the proper long-term treatment, she would be OK.

  *****

  Epilogue

  The Reaper crouched, hidden in the snow-covered undergrowth as the patrol walked by. They were carrying automatic weapons and wearing thick brown robes of what looked like homespun fabric. They walked with an almost mechanical precision, and from the way their heads rarely turned, were unaware of their surroundings. The Reaper did not move his body, but followed them with his eyes. Soon they were out of sight and sound and he proceeded forward slowly. Carefully placing his feet in the tracks they'd made, the Reaper backtracked their trail. As he rounded a corner, he saw that the woods quickly ended and the trail continued through a clearing.

  He had spent the last day and a half getting to Macon, Missouri. Once a simple location on a map, the notebook had told an entirely different story. The Reaper remembered the handwritten words clearly: “#1 Religious nutcases, but willing to deal for young female slaves 9-12. 3oz gold + 15 bushels wheat in spring/per. Killed my first two men. Killed 4 of theirs. Guards suck ass. Now they're dealing and happy about it. Good customers.10 stars on this bunch.”

  His current location was not Macon itself, but just north and west of there, outside the town limits. His first inclination was to scout out the town itself, to look for survivors and attempt to consolidate them while putting them in communication with Paris. He knew without doubt that a town this size would have other survivor groups, especially if one was religiously oriented in an unhealthy way. Those who wished to remain hidden would do so, but the Reaper also knew he would be able to find them.

  Slowly he approached the clearing before crouching again. The trail led over a hill less than twenty meters ahead, and the Reaper crept forward while listening for sounds around his position. Silence reigned so he kept moving. This was only a recon of the group’s position. He did not want to get close enough to become involved without knowing the rest of the situation in this area.

  Approaching the crest, he carefully lifted his head, peering down into the valley below. Before him lay a palisade, for that was the only way he could describe it. It was an extremely large compound which stretched off into the distance in both directions, with a fence comprised of what he estimated to be wooden stakes every four to six feet, barbed wire strung between them. A large gate adorned the front where the trail ended, and more barbed wire could be seen, strung across the top.

  The Reaper lifted his binoculars and slowly panned the visible areas around the palisade. Then he saw it. There was a large wooden cross a quarter-mile distant, deep within the woods. It appeared to be constructed of plywood and steel, with a height of at least thirty feet, but that was not what made his eyes narrow and a low growl escape his throat. Nailed or tied to the cross were bodies. A great number of bodies and even from this distance the Reaper could see that many were children. He knew without any doubt that soon the line to purgatory would grow in length.

  *****

  Not the end ... Only the beginning!

  Blood Brains and Bullets

  If you enjoyed The Reaper: No Mercy, check out this excerpt from the book that gave birth to the characters here. Blood, Brains, and Bullets is coming soon to Permuted Press!

  Chapter One

  My daughter has the TV on too loud when I walk in the house, arms loaded down with groceries. It takes me a number of trips to get everything in the house this time. Maybe I got carried away. I hear some announcer coming over the TV, just the sound, not making out many words. Then the emergency warning sound came over the voice. Like the kind you get during a tornado warning. That emergency broadcast warning tone! All three kids are in the living room and I glance at the receiver seeing the channel set to sixty-six, which was Disney. But what I see instead of animated characters is red bands across the top and bottom of the screen and a typical news announcer waiting for the warning to end so he can spea
k again. I say ‘Hi’ to the kids and they started complaining about the interruptions to their program when the warning sounds stop and the announcer’s voice picks up again. I hush them so I can hear.

  "For those of you just tuning in let me repeat. It is imperative that all citizens stay inside their homes until further notice. Do not travel or leave your homes unless it is a medical emergency. Anyone with flu like symptoms should go immediately to your nearest hospital or medical facility and seek treatment. I repeat. Stay in your homes unless you have a medical emergency. There have been reports of large numbers of deaths associated to the flu virus and vaccine treatments, the President of the United States has declared the country in a state of National Emergency until further notice."

  Holy shit, I thought. I had never heard of that happening before and it had only been a half hour since the last warning. I kept listening.

  "Do not under any circumstances let strangers into your home, especially if they look sick or have any noticeable fluids on their clothing or skin. There are FEMA facilities being prepared to handle refugees. Reports coming in from some of the major cities tell of widespread violence as feverish flu victims attack their fellow citizens. There have also been reports of deaths associated with the vaccinations and reanimations but everyone is to stay calm. Lock your doors and stay inside. If you have not received the vaccination yet, do not do so. Law enforcement is responding to emergencies and the President has signed an executive order calling up the National Guard to maintain order during this crisis."

  He started to repeat himself, reading from the paper in front of him and I tuned him out. I grabbed the remote and switched it to FOX seeing a variation of the same thing being broadcast. Then to NBC, ABC, CNN but it didn't matter. The emergency broadcast was on every channel.