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Scavengers. Part 17

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It wasn't her fault. She was doing what she could. She wouldn't let those voices of defeat pull her down.

She rolled on her side so her back was to Zanine. Her eyes filled with tears but she wouldn't indulge her urge to cry. Dejah clutched her hands to her chest as if clinging to her last threads of hope. Though she didn't know where salvation would come from, she trusted that it would come. She would be free. She refused to believe that the sole reason her gift, or power, or whatever the h.e.l.l it was, was given to her just so she could live to be this crazy reverend's bride.

She said a prayer to G.o.d for revelation, for comfort, for help. She tried to have faith that he heard her and was with her, but it wasn't easy.

Finally, she drifted asleep.

Roughly dragged along by two guards, Shaun was led to an abandoned section of the adjoining school to the end of a hallway with double doors leading outside.



The two men who manhandled him wore rifles. They shoved him to his knees. Moonlight shone through the windows onto the cold tile floor. The guard to Shaun's right was a fat, gray-bearded white man wearing John Lennon gla.s.ses who looked stupid and dead inside except for the distant spark of a craving that bordered on the perverse. The other guard Shaun knew by name: Reeves. He was dressed in sharp fatigues, perfect picture of a military man gone wrong, ready to bring all the fires of h.e.l.l down upon a kid who dared bring the reverend disgrace amongst his people.

"You got it comin' kid." Reeves sneered. He stepped forward and launched a boot into Shaun's side. Shaun yelped and tried to scramble backward out of the path of Reeves's foot. He banged against the double doors. "You f.u.c.ked up pretty good, you know. Y'all had it just fine here no reason to cause a stir. No reason to go launching yourself at the holy Reverend Keller because he stole your girl."

"She's not my girl. She's my friend, and we thought we were brought here under a gesture of goodwill, not as prisoners of some nutjob!"

"Yeah, well, things change, kid. You heard the reverend. G.o.d brought that woman here to be his bride. To serve the church. Which pretty much leaves you the odd-man out. Especially if you're not on board with the plan. We have a pretty good thing goin' here. Don't need some little s.h.i.t like you f.u.c.kin' things up."

The fat pasty dude gave a belly laugh and shifted the rifle in his hands.

"Open the doors," Reeves ordered.

The fat man went past Shaun and unchained the doors. The metal links clanked in the hallway, echoing as the chain clattered free.

"For some reason, the reverend ordered you punished, not killed. So, maybe he doesn't want you dead, but I suppose he might not be too d.a.m.ned upset if there was an accident. After all, your blood wouldn't be on his hands that way."

Night wind rushed into the hallway. The scents of cold trees, prairie gra.s.ses, and autumn's damp leaves swirled around them. There was just the stray hint of something else, too. Death. Decay.

Moonlight poured through the open doorway onto Shaun in solid beams as he stood, defiant before the two men. He was just as tall as they were. Shaun sized them up, entertaining the thoughts of escape.

"Go on," the fat white man said, ramming his rifle b.u.t.t into Shaun's chest. It knocked the air from him. Shaun reeled backward, tripping over the threshold onto the wood-chipped ground outside. He stumbled to get his balance against a yellow ducky for children to ride. He looked around a swing set, teeter totter, merry-go-round. This was a play area for the younger kids at the school. A chain link fence surrounded the small area, and beyond the fence, in the distance, over the tops of a tree-clad hill, figures shambled toward him.

Shaun's heart tripled its pace as he ran for the doors to get back inside. The fat man laughed, aiming the rifle at him.

"No," Shaun pleaded. He looked over his shoulder toward the infected picking up his scent. They shambled closer to the playground. "You can't leave me out here."

"Get back, kid. You're making me uncomfortable." Reeves pulled a pistol from his hip and fired into the ground near Shaun's feet. The sound of the shot slammed into his ears. The sudden ringing in his ears m.u.f.fled the men's laughter. The fat white one took a shot with the rifle. The bullet sparked against the steel ducky and sent it swaying like crazy. A ricochet whined in the darkness.

Shaun screamed and scrambled backward across the wood-chipped ground. Before he knew it, his back was pressed against the fence. For just a moment, the immediate danger of the men shooting at him replaced his fear of the Sickies on the other side of the fence. He remembered d.a.m.n quick as one of the infected zombies slipped an ashen, patchy-skinned hand through the links and dug into his shirt with a rotted, claw-like hand.

He spun. The face of the infected was mummified, skin taut across skullish features. It was like a living skeleton with skin and gore-caked teeth, a bag of bones in leathery film. He could feel the fetid breath of the thing panting against his skin.

Shaun yelled and rolled away, swatting the grasping hand from his shirt. He came to a stop near the base of the spinning merry-go-round. Blindly, he reached for the metal bars to pull himself up, but it carried him under, continuing to turn. His leg was caught until he pulled away and stood, panting, staring at the five Sickies pressed against the fence. Savagely they fought each other for the chance to score the waiting prey. Snapping and snarling, the Sickies battled for the best position, all the while yanking and throwing themselves maniacally against the fence. The thin metal links bowed beneath their weight. One of the fiends yanked on the fence, rattling and clinking it against the support poles. Shaun regarded its construction worriedly.

Beyond the current cl.u.s.ter of zombies, others caught the scent of flesh and were straggling this way. They came over the hill, through the clearing, black lumbering shapes. Hungry. Shaun took a deep shuddering breath. He couldn't swallow; the reflex was frozen with fear. Tears welled in his eyes but he didn't sob. He thought of rushing the two men with the guns, but knew they were more dangerous to him for the time being. At least until more zombies put their weight against the fence.

"Hope we don't have ourselves any accidents here, eh kid?" yelled Reeves. The fat man chuckled right on cue. A flash of fire signified Reeves lighting a cigar. "Well, now. Let's just hope it all holds together for ya."

"Whuddya know," boomed the fat white man's voice. "Instead of getting in trouble and havin' to stay in from recess, the kid's gotta go out to the playground for bein' a troublemaker."

"Why, Darryl," said Reeves. "What an astute observation you've made. Downright ironic, I'd say." Reeves puffed his cigar with a grin and aimed his pistol at Shaun's feet. He fired. Wood chips exploded. Shaun's eardrums rang like the aftermath of a hammer on steel as he jumped back but struggled not to fall against the fence. The thin metal fence was now heavy with the leaning weight of dozens of zombies, their arms grasping for him.

"Might be a long night." The two men laughed.

Shaun stood, bathed in silver moonlight, waiting to die.

The room housing the Daughters of Heaven was quiet now. The plush accoutrements were hunched shapes in the near-darkness. The only light glowed amber from a decorative lamp in the far corner next to Karen's sleeping form, sprawled without covers atop her bed. Not far from where she slept, Judith stirred atop the divan. Dejah was still asleep so deeply that she didn't move from the position she'd been in when she rolled over and closed her eyes.

Zanine was still awake. She stared at the long mirror on the back wall of the room and felt someone staring back.

It was him.

She knew Keller watched them in the night. Watched them change, watched them sleep. The pervert even watched them p.i.s.s. There were mirrors everywhere. So tonight, she'd given him a show. Tonight she needed a man, and he wouldn't come to her. All he ever did was sit back there and watch like some chickens.h.i.t peeping Tom.

She yearned for him, for his power. So she spread her legs over the arms of the recliner, caressing her inner thighs, hiking up her dress until her loins were exposed to the cool air of the room. She wore no panties because she always hoped he'd come to the room and have his way with her. Out of all of the Daughters of Heaven, she wanted that the most. The others were simply prisoners. She was a prisoner of love, of her l.u.s.ts for him ... as she touched herself tonight, she thought of Keller touching her instead. And she spread her legs to the mirror as she satisfied her craving for release, moaning and writhing, gasping as she came.

Now she let the dress fall around her legs. She focused on the slumbering shapes in the room. On one shape in particular. The one she hated. The woman who'd come to them as good as dead, and now lay sleeping peacefully on the canopied bed across from her.

Dejah.

She gave it no thought as she withdrew the shining blade from the drawer. A knife she'd secreted from the cafe, just a steak knife, but sharp and deadly enough to do what needed to be done. She was tired of compet.i.tion. Too many women were gathered in these chambers, and with each new wife accepted into the fold, her chances of being the recipient of Keller's love and seed were diminishing. It was time to remove Dejah from the equation. This time she'd make sure the woman died. She would stab her to death, and then hack off her head inch by b.l.o.o.d.y inch.

Zanine stood and gripped the knife, blade down, for repeated stabbing. Stealthily, she crept bare-footed across the room. Now that she'd had an o.r.g.a.s.m, she breathed easy. The exhilaration released her pressures and gave her the presence of mind to do what had to be done. This would surely show the reverend how much she loved him. How far she was willing to go for his love.

She hovered above Dejah just watching the rise and fall of the woman's chest. Zanine raised the weapon, angling down. The silver blade gleamed in the scant light. She smiled ever so slightly.

She thrust the knife down toward Dejah's neck.

As if by dispelled illusion, a door burst open in a nearby wall. The wallpaper cracked open in the shape of an arch as Reverend Keller rushed through. His pale face gathered all the light in the room, but his sinister, dark eyes reflected it like the eyes of a vicious dog. Draped in a silken black robe, he rushed to Zanine.

"No!" Keller shouted, grabbing her wrist. The knife froze in midair. The reverend knocked it away. It flipped across the room and clattered into a corner.

Zanine stopped struggling, and her eyes lit with joy. "Reverend! Oh love, I need you!" Her eyes flicked to the opening of his robe. Between his legs jutted a pinkish erection, pushing between the flaps of his nighttime attire. She reached for his s.e.x organ like a starved woman. He slapped her across the face and flung her away in a rage.

Zanine fell to the floor before him. "Oh Reverend Keller. Lawrence, my love. Let me suck your c.o.c.k. Let me be your slave. f.u.c.k me! I need you! f.u.c.k me like you've never f.u.c.ked a woman before! I'll be yours always. And when the Lord comes I'll be yours from now and into Heaven-"

"Shut up, you wh.o.r.e," he yelled. "Shut up!" With the last word he slapped her again, following the loud smack with a kick to the ribs. "Harlot! Jezebel! How dare you tempt me with your wiles. You are a tool of Satan, driven by demons and sent to lead us to our deaths."

Dejah awoke, watching the exchange in bewildered half-cognizance. She drew closer to the headboard, clutching blankets around her in some false form of security.

"Guards!" the reverend shouted. "Guards!" Two men unlocked the main door, barreling through, seeming embarra.s.sed at the reverend's state, but recognizing that the best thing to do was simply obey. "Take her away from here. Take her away."

They dragged Zanine from the room, writhing, shouting proclamations of love and promises of s.e.xual favors. The reverend turned his head, closed his eyes, and covered his ears against her delusional shouts.

Dejah watched Keller's reactions until Zanine was gone. The guards locked the doors behind them. Both Judith and Karen were awake. Karen was crying. The reverend hurried back through his secret door in the wall and was gone without a word to the other women. The wallpaper sealed against itself, once more leaving no trace of an entrance ever having been accessible in the wall.

CHAPTER 26.

The next morning, the reverend called an emergency gathering of the faithful and paced the stage like a caged panther. He folded his hands in a tight knot behind his back, staring grimly, purposefully at the ground. His angry breathing huffed in the speakers.

Overlooking the crowd, Keller knew that only about half of the people currently seeking shelter here at the Church of the Risen King were in attendance. That seemed to be the consistent attendance for his impromptu updates, as well as his main sermons this past couple weeks. It crushed him knowing the majority of his 10,000-member church were out there in the world dead, dying, their souls reaped by The Accuser, the Evil One. That many were h.e.l.l's children walking the land in empty sh.e.l.ls feasting on the flesh of living was a travesty not even he, in his vast wisdom, had foreseen. Now, there couldn't be more than 600 people at the church, and not all of them were members. They were people who'd come to the church seeking refuge; others were saved from the surrounding area. Keller hoped they'd join the church family. There was strength in numbers, and if all of these sheltering beneath the roof would join as members, it would make them stronger.

But he knew that not all of them were believers. He had a lot of work to do to bring all that were beneath his wing into the fold. G.o.d had told him the Church of the Risen King was to be a sanctuary where they would find new life and a fresh start, but to make this a reality everyone within these walls would need to buy into the vision. He felt time was short, and the anxiety inside made him feel lightheaded, frenzied. He prayed to the Lord for solace. He asked the Lord to give him serenity, but that peace that surpa.s.ses all understanding didn't come.

Only anxiety.

Only fear.

Reverend Lawrence James Keller looked across the sanctuary at the faces in the seats. He took a deep breath, drawing power from their faith in him. For these faithful few, he continued to fight the forces of evil. He fought to vanquish Satan and his h.o.a.rd of minions so that he and his followers could a.s.sume their rightful place at the right hand of Jesus Christ when the son of G.o.d returned to claim his bride. Just as he was joined with the beautiful Dejah, whom G.o.d appointed to be his bride, Christ would join with Keller's faithful followers. Keller, as shepherd over that faithful flock, would be a great man in the Kingdom of G.o.d. His years of toil would soon be rewarded.

He called the room to silence and said a prayer for protection, for the rise of the church, for the sanctification of its members, and for the realization of G.o.d's will. Then, after a pause thick with antic.i.p.atory silence, he began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen." He took a deep breath, looked grimly at the ground, and then raised his head to face them. "The Devil is amongst us. And as the Devil often does, he came to us under the guise of a woman: a beauty, but a beast, a fair creature, but a wh.o.r.e. One who came to me virtuous and with concern for my sheep. One who I took to be one of my trusted Daughters of Heaven." He paused to muster tears, letting them glisten in the lights shining from the high ceilings. "But I've been betrayed, and in this betrayal, you, my sons and daughters, have also been betrayed. Last night this wh.o.r.e of Babylon showed herself to be a murderer. An instrument of Satan put here to bring the downfall of the divine plan of G.o.d here at the Church of the Risen King."

A stunned murmur buzzed through the crowd. The reverend suppressed a smile. G.o.d had not failed him in his hour of need. His faithful followers felt the concern and the anguish that he, himself, felt broiling within as he unburdened this terrible deed to them.

He turned with a theatrical flourish as Reeves and Carson brought Zanine out onto the stage. She kicked and thrashed, screaming like a wild woman at the crowd. Her hair flew wildly about her head as she resisted their hold, shouting curses over the heads of the congregation and praying down disaster from heaven upon their heads. But the men had her fast.

Reverend Keller pointed a finger of accusation at Janine's struggling form as he made his final p.r.o.nouncement to the faithful. "This Jezebel tempted me with s.e.xual favors, offering her mortal body to me to use in l.u.s.tful and lascivious ways. She sought to thwart G.o.d's plans for this church, and for all of you, with her machinations of malice. She attempted last night to murder the woman sent by G.o.d himself to be the mother of this church, to be my bride, sent to usher us into the Kingdom of Heaven that we may stand before G.o.d when he descends from the heavens without blame and without fear. We must take decisive action against the devil when he reveals himself in our midst. This woman is the embodiment of the devil, the temptress offering up sin just as Eve gave Adam the fruit that led to his downfall!"

Cheers rose from the crowd, reverberating through the floor of the dais beneath Keller's feet. "Tonight," he shouted. "Tonight, we give her back to the Devil and to his soulless minions that now walk this earth. Tonight we make a stand against evil, and send a decisive message to all who would come against us, who would oppose our mission: the mission of G.o.d. We will not be defeated! We will not allow Satan and his cohorts to gain dominion over our souls, for we, here at the Church of the Risen King have a covenant with G.o.d Almighty, and he shall see that we prosper, and he shall keep us safe in his bosom. Can I hear an amen?"

A chorus of amens rumbled through the sanctuary, as Keller finished with a flourish. The crowd of the faithful stood and cheered, and clapped. And this time, the reverend couldn't stop himself from grinning gleefully at their zeal for the Lord.

In the room with the Daughters of Heaven, Reeves standing watch at the door, Keller sat next to Dejah upon her bed. He regarded her beauty, her luxurious hair, the creamy, unsullied smoothness of her skin, her sparkling eyes and long lashes, supple b.r.e.a.s.t.s and pink lips. His heart raced at the thought of having her as his bride and he again thanked G.o.d for such a woman, sent by his own hand.

He took her cool hand in his. He turned toward her on the bed, studied her face. Both Judith and Karen drew near, but next to Dejah, they were mere mortals, simple handmaidens. Still, he loved them for what they were: servants to him, visions of beauty that he could gaze upon in the deep of the night. For when he awoke from his frequent nightmares, he watched them through the looking gla.s.s, regarded their peaceful sleep, the smooth curves of their bodies, all meant to remind him of the loveliness of women in line with their G.o.d-ordained positions in life. All reminding him of the gifts the Lord had given to him and to the world. These, his precious wives, were G.o.d's rewards for his service to his son.

Keller looked into Dejah's eyes.

"Tonight, Zanine pays the price for her sins against us, my love." He smiled at her, feeling a flutter in his chest. A deep sense of euphoria rushed over him as he touched her skin. His groin stirred, eliciting an erection, which he wished he could guide her hand to touch, but, alas, not yet. But soon. "Tomorrow night, I'd like to have our marriage celebration to remind the faithful of the wonderful things that G.o.d has sent us. We'll have a grand celebration that will bring us together in the Lord, and share my joy our joy with the faithful, so they may feel the hope we feel. Our celebration is a firm reminder that G.o.d has ordained the Church of the Risen King as the birthplace of the new world. Here, with us, within the confines of this church consecrated unto the Lord, life begins anew."

Dejah nodded, lifting his hand to her face, and brushing it against her cheek. "Oh, Reverend," she said, her voice heavy with desire for him. "My love."

"Please, Dejah. Call me Lawrence."

She smiled. "Lawrence, I can't wait to be joined with you, to be your wife. But, I feel guided by the Lord to pray. I need time alone. I don't want to spend even a minute away from your side, but G.o.d speaks to me powerfully, and I must obey him. With this gift that he's given me, he's also given to me an understanding of his will. I ... must obey him, Lawrence. I know you bear this burden also, that you shoulder a great weight of responsibility for your flock. You know what it means to do G.o.d's bidding, to follow the plan the Lord has ordained. So, I need to find a quiet corner where I can be alone. I have to get away from everyone to pray for what he would have for us, for you. I feel the moving of the Holy Spirit to pray for the world, to pray for wisdom for establishing our coming kingdom. And to ask G.o.d's blessing on our union." Dejah dropped his hand and in doing so, very lightly brushed against the bulge of his slacks. Keller flushed. His heart raced. He felt as though he couldn't contain himself. Embarra.s.sed, he glanced over at the other two women watching this exchange.

"Yes," he said, standing. "Absolutely. Do what you must, my love. But please return by sundown. I'll want you by my side as we send the Devil's wh.o.r.e to her death."

"Oh, I will." She smiled at him from the bed, sliding one leg over the edge of the mattress with seeming innocence, showing him most of her left leg before coyly covering the flesh again. She glanced at him with a look composed of apology and desire.

"Reeves," Keller commanded, somewhat shaken by the strength of his desire for Dejah. "Allow Dejah time alone in the church. Let her go where she needs to."

Reeves grunted acquiescence.

"Thank you, my husband," Dejah said.

Lawrence hurried into his chamber, using the secret door in the wall. Feeling full of shame, he went straight to his marble and gold fixture bathroom to relieve himself. As he finished, pants around his ankles, flushed s.e.m.e.n whirling down the toilet, he looked at the razor sitting on the counter. Methodically, he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a scarred forearm.

He sat upon the commode, p.e.n.i.s red and flaccid from his wild masturbation, and took the razor between his thumb and finger. Tears in his eyes, guilt, regret and shame burning in his cheeks with the heat of h.e.l.lfire, he cut himself seven times, seven holy times, the number of G.o.d. The number of completeness. He watched blood run from the slices slivered into the flesh of his arm, watched the crimson flow dribble onto the marble floor between his feet.

He atoned with his own blood, as G.o.d had sent his son to do for humanity. He poured out his lifeblood in supplication, beseeching the Lord that he would once again be spotless and without sin.

CHAPTER 27.

Dejah hurried through the corridors of the church, trying her best not to be recognized. When any of the faithful spotted her, they reacted as if she was Jesus himself, and she just couldn't take it. She wanted to scream at them to wake up, to see that Keller was twisting the scriptures and their minds. It sickened her to know that, out of anyone here, she had the power to break the spell that Keller had woven around these people. She was the one who'd arrived as a bleeding ma.s.s of flesh and the next day was completely regenerated. They would listen to her. It tore her up inside, but she didn't dare cause a stir if she intended to get out of here with her life.

You're being selfish, came an accusatory tone deep in her mind. No, she told herself, I'm trying to get to Selah, who needs me more than anyone. These people were screwed up when I got here, and they'll be screwed up when I leave.

And leave she would.

Dejah made her way through the halls of the church, upstairs into some administrative offices. She checked the desk phones for live lines, but none worked. She was willing to bet Keller had the lines disconnected on purpose. She felt a sinking feeling in her gut. The man was insane. They didn't have much time.

And, digging painfully at her heart was the unknown punishment Keller had exacted upon Shaun for his antics in the sanctuary yesterday morning. Dejah was terrified for the boy. She had to find him. They had to get out of this crazy place.

She tousled her hair so it hung in her face. She couldn't do anything about her clothes. The dress made her stick out like a ballerina at a square dance, but so many people were concerned with themselves and survival, no one seemed to notice.

She moved like a ghost through the marbled main entry hall. She pa.s.sed through the ma.s.sive corridor past the bookstore and coffee shop, went through the commons, and then followed the hallway that curved behind the sanctuary. It led to the Sunday school rooms being used for dorms. She guessed hoped she'd be able to find Shaun, and maybe even the Doc back here.

The red-carpeted hallway curved to the right. A few doors were open. People sat on cots, played cards, talked in hushed tones, stood gazing out of windows, prayed, sang or slept. It struck her just how many people were staying here. The sanctuary hadn't been entirely full when Keller delivered his announcements, so she didn't have any idea there were this many people in the church complex. Perhaps not everyone was crazy, brainwashed, or expecting G.o.d to show up handing out silver wings. It was a small comfort.

Dejah found the room serving as the makeshift medical center. Peering cautiously into the room, she saw Doc Ward hovering over a sleeping, sick child. He looked up with a scowl, but his expression immediately changed when he recognized her.

"What on Earth?" he said in a half-whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Shaun?"

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Scavengers. Part 17 summary

You're reading Scavengers.. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Christopher Fulbright, Angeline Hawkes. Already has 511 views.

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