Life Among The Dead (35 page)

He reads his brochure behind the safety of the closed steel door as he drinks horrible coffee and eats his unbalanced breakfast. The headline of the pamphlet greets: Welcome to the town of Gaines, a small town with a large history.

“
Do tell.” Dan sarcastically implores. It reports that the town was used during the Civil War as a supply depot. Both sides of the confrontation utilized it. The town had refused to choose sides, remaining neutral. It was an undeclared demilitarized zone.

Dan flips the paper over and discovers a map on the reverse. It isn’t to scale, and no roads are labeled, but it pinpoints Gaines with a small red star. He traces his finger north along the blue line that represents the Charles River, passing many small dots until it reaches a large mark labeled Waterloo. Dan wonders if size matters when it came to dots.
Does a larger one mean a larger population?

The fingernail express continues north to where the map ends. The very last dot is tiny. New Castle is not much bigger than this town. Apart from the history lesson, Dan has learned very little that he didn’t already surmise.
Head north, follow the Charles.

Dan wants to get moving. He opens the glove box to store his tourist brochure. In the compartment he sees a road atlas of the area.
Cool,
he thinks.
I have that if I need it.
The dead have finally made it to the truck, just as the meat speeds off.

Dan travels through the town towards what he imagines must be the city limits. He has to stop, the road is barricaded by chain link. It’s odd that an entire town should be fenced in. It looks old; the bars that support the links are rusted.
They didn’t put this up yesterday to keep out the dead.
He figures it’s meant to protect the town’s historical significance, a preserved landmark that people live in.

Dan knows T-Rex’s keys will be useless. He brings the revolver to use as a pick. There are no dead around as he walks up to the roadblock. The pad lock securing the latch looks brand new, not a bit of rust on it. He fires his pistol at an angle in case of a ricochet. The lock pops open and the pieces fall to the ground. He is anxious to get some road behind him and reunite with his family.

Every station on the radio’s tuner erupts in different tones of static as Dan heads along the tree lined road. He tries to take sips of his coffee between the bumps that jolt the entire vehicle. He chain smokes despite the fact he knows he should conserve his cigarettes. He can’t help it. He is so worried about Heather and Vincent that he can’t keep his mind off of them.

If only the radio would work he could try to focus on something else to keep from worrying about his family. T-Rex has a wide assortment of cassettes, but they are all country music. Dan abhors country music. The only decent album he can find in the collection is Johnny Cash, the one exception in his hatred of the category. He’ll have to listen to it later. Right now, he has spotted what may actually be a living breathing human.

About a mile or two away from the town, Dan sees a man sitting on the side of the road. The gray haired old buzzard appears to be whittling a piece of wood.

“
People actually do that?” Dan asks himself, slowing to a stop alongside the gentleman. The man looks up at the truck and spits a thick stream of brown fluid onto the road. His expression remains unchanged by the introduction of a fellow person. He doesn’t get scared, or happy, he just stoically stares at the stranger who has gotten out of his vehicle and is now rounding the front of it. The stranger who wears Army fatigues and has a beaming, if not goofy, smile plastered across his mouth.

“
Hello, sir?” Dan waves as he approaches the man. He left his weapons in the truck as not to frighten the old guy. He is elated to have found another person.

“
I just came from Gaines. I’m heading to…”

“
What were you doing in Gaines?” The man interrupts. The chewing tobacco tucked into his bottom lip muffles his voice and gives him an unintelligent sounding accent.

“
Just passing through. I’m on my way to New Castle. I could sure use some company. If you aren’t too extremely busy.” Dan offers some humor.

“
Just keep passing. We been saved already.” The man resumes his woodworking.

“
We?” Dan asks. People appear from the trees. The thick forest had hidden their presence. They emerge from every side, at least twenty by Dan’s panicked count. Some of them carry sticks, others hold crusty old farm tools. A few of them have guns.

“
Who saved you? The military?” Dan asks, but receives no response. The people continue to box him in. He can barely see his truck where it idles; too many bodies block his view.

“
What is this?” He asks the mob. He looks at their faces, young and old, men and woman. He spots a child or two in the mix as well. One face steps close to Dan’s. The man has peaceful, kind blue eyes. He wears all black.
Almost like Johnny Cash,
Dan thinks.

“
Don’t worry, son. We are here to save you.” He assures. A sharp pain on the back of Dan’s head turns everything black.

3

Consciousness pushes away the darkness in Dan’s mind. The world is a haze as the soldier sits up with a splitting headache. His hand feels the back of his skull, inspecting a bump that is sore to the touch.

He is in a cage suspended in a dark room. The cell is made of thick wooden dowel fastened by hemp with a ply wood floor. The room beyond is a large sparse void. Torches burn on the walls revealing very little detail to him. It looks as if the world stores all of its unused shadows here because that’s all he can see.

His pockets are empty. Whoever has imprisoned him relieved him of his gear. He grips the bars and tests how sturdily the prison is built. To his chagrin it’s pretty damn solid.

“
What the fuck is this?” He asks.

“
My temple.” A voice responds. It echoes around the vacant hall. Dan turns towards its origin inside the cage.

“
Your what?” He asks a short man with a potbelly, wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt.

“
My temple. It’s an old supply depot.” The man reiterates. “My name is Greg. Greg Smith.”

The man is offering his meaty hand for Dan to shake, the soldier just ignores it.

“
Why did you bring me here?” Dan doesn’t bother to leave the fuming anger from his voice.

“
I didn’t”

“
You just fucking said this is your temple.”

“
He lost control of his flock.” Another male voice within the cage interjects. The voice remains hidden in the gloomy shadows that drape the back of the cell. Unlike Greg this man doesn’t enter the light to make his presence known.

“
I met the flock.” Dan growls at the unseen person. “Who are you?”

Dan can feel the cage sway as the new voice stands to make the short journey into better lighting. He is a tall older man, dressed in a similar uniform as the zombie cop Dan had shot in town.

“
Sheriff Rexton.” He says with authority. Dan wonders if that’s supposed to be impressive, considering he is locked up too.

“
Are they trying to save you as well?” Dan asks with a raised eyebrow.

“
Yeah,” The man says, relaxing a bit. “Apparently, I am a nonbeliever.”

“
Not a very tolerant town. What happens now?”

“
Ask this douche bag.” The cop hitches a thumb in Greg’s direction. He returns to the shadows to rest his old bones. The cage sways as he sits, letting out a groan.

Dan stares at the man in the bright red and yellow shirt. Greg lowers his head and slinks away like a dog that is about to be scolded. The Sheriff can tell that the rotund man isn’t going to share, so he starts the story with a sigh.

“
Several months ago, I noticed odd behavior from my neighbors. They were keeping strange hours. Many gathered here in this ‘temple’ at the same time every day. They began to only associate with one another. They wouldn’t so much as give anyone else the time of day.

“
It started small, but it spread. A handful became dozens. It didn’t take long until all the people of Gaines were involved. No one would give me any answers when I questioned them about it. I confronted over thirty people and couldn’t get to the bottom of it. There was only one thing I could tie to the start of it. It all began when this asshole showed up in town.”

“
Hey!” Greg objects. “I’m in the cage too.”

“
Why is that, Greg? Why are you in the cage?” Dan asks the man. He has somewhere to be. He wants to get to his family and this man is the reason he can’t. Greg isn’t answering. Dan starts taking small steps towards him. He isn’t sure what he will do when he gets his hands on him, he just hopes the man breaks before he does.

“
Ok,” Greg says holding his palms to the soldier who has murder in his eyes. “I’m a con man. I go from town to town, looking for rubes. I gather people who share a common need to belong and gullibility.”

“
You’re a cult leader?” Dan asks. The shock in his voice is hard to miss. The words came out choppy as he chuckles through his sentence.

“
I write a doctrine of faith for them to follow. I give their lives hope and meaning. I give them a purpose.”

“
Don’t sugar coat it.” The Sheriff interrupts. “You bilk them out of everything, and then you blow town once they’ve been bled dry.”

Greg can’t argue. It’s true. He had done it many times.

“
Anyway, I came to Gaines and did my thing. I started to work my magic and it was like I hit the mother load.” As the little man speaks Dan inspects the cage again. “This sleepy little town makes a mint from tourist dollars. My gospel spread like wildfire.”

“
Just as destructive, but I would say it was more like a plague.” The Sheriff corrects him.

Greg continues to speak to the new roommate who examines each side of the jail. The soldier reaches his hand through the bars, and out into the shadows that conceal the back wall of the room.

“
So, I’m making money hand over fist. This is what all men in my line of work dream of. It was the jackpot, the score that would retire me. I could finally escape to some island where there is nothing but beaches, coconut drinks, and tanned ladies.”

Dan’s arm is extended to his elbow, he can feel a concrete wall beyond the bars. He crouches down and whispers to the cop. Greg watches the secret meeting and stops talking. Dan finishes his exchange with the policeman.

“
If everything was going so great,” Dan asks. “Why are you locked up?”

“
I talk in my sleep.” The man who would be king blushes. “I have a chopper, all gassed up, just out of town. I was planning on leaving soon anyway. When the shit hit the fan yesterday, I figured it was the perfect time for me to split.”

Greg sits on the bare wood floor of the prison cell. He rests the back of his head against the bars. “The problem with being cult leader is that you can have your pick of all the girls.”

“
Sounds awful.” Dan quips.

“
I had every girl in this town, but there’s always one… There’s this cute, strawberry blonde number that’s very special to me.” The man smiles. “I like her so much I made her my number one bride just two days ago. We haven’t even… You know… Yet. I asked her if she wanted to run away with me.”

“
Let me guess. She turned you in.” Dan deduces.

Before Greg can answer a door opens below them. White light spills in from the opening and cuts a path through the darkness.

“
She is so devout in my teachings.” Greg shakes his head while smirking. “She told her dad. He assembled the flock to capture me, thinking I had lost my way.”

White robed figures are entering the hall single file. They take position in orderly rows facing the far wall. A figure stands before them in a black robe. His hands are raised above his head. He lowers them and all the parishioners kneel in unison.

“
It’s just mass.” Greg says over Dan’s shoulder. The soldier palms the leader’s face and brings him close to his.

“
Go on with your story.” Dan commands.

“
Don’t encourage him.” The Sheriff protests.

“
It might be helpful.”

“
I tried to tell them it was only a test, and that their response meant they had passed. I assured them I was on the righteous path and would never actually leave them. They said someone off the path would say that.” Greg shrugs.

“
So they locked you up anyway.” Dan sighs. “Where does that leave us? What’s this ‘saved’ bullshit?”

“
Every time I pull this scam I create a holiday. It gives them something to look forward to and brings them closer together. It allows them to cut loose and celebrate.

“
Tomorrow is November 30th, the great salvation. I told them the date is known, but the year is not. So every year we must make ready for it.”

“
Why the 30th?”

“
It’s my birthday.”

“
Oh, Happy birthday!” Dan says with fake cheer. “What is the ‘great salvation’?”

“
It is the day when all the true believers will be saved. They become one with the messiah when he utters the word of God into their ears. You know the salvation nears by the signs.”

“
What signs?” Dan can’t wait to hear this one.