Vestige (15 page)

Jon’s skin rippled with pain. Blisters bubbled and oozed, leaving his shell battered and burned. Not knowing how much more he could endure, he summoned what little strength he had left. “Bob, help me,” he whispered.

At the utterance of its name, the dog appeared. Bob snarled at Grimshaw, breaking the beast’s hold on Jon.

Grimshaw laughed. “Look at that. Your God sent your dog. Amusing.”

Jon’s pain disappeared, as warmth washed over him. Jon felt as if he were sitting on the beach on a sunny day. He came for him. God came for him.

Grimshaw turned and knocked on the door. “Private Garcia, come in here please.”

The door opened. Garcia entered the room with his weapon drawn.

“I need you to shoot this dog. It’s dangerous,” instructed Grimshaw.

“What dog?” asked the soldier. “Do you mean the prisoner?”

Grimshaw turned back towards the room. Jon and Bob were both gone.

“Wait, where’s the prisoner?” asked Garcia.

Grimshaw smiled at the soldier. “How’s that tag working out for you?”

At the sight of Grimshaw’s smile, the guard forgot his questions. He even forgot about Jon.

Chapter Sixteen

Over the next two weeks, the six teens stayed together at Micah’s house. The probation period had ended, and Micah and Clarke were in violation of the Tagging Mandate. If caught, they’d be arrested. Even though Amber tried her best to convince them to comply, Micah and Clarke ignored her pleas. Unbeknownst to the others, they both had their reasons. Micah feared that the tagging and the disappearances were part of some apocalyptic scenario, and he suspected that the government was complicit in all of it. Clarke simply wanted to avoid her mother.

Even though the three girls seemed to be getting along, they were far from becoming friends. Clarke was annoyed by Jess’s attempts to make Micah jealous. In Micah’s presence, she would hang all over Dustin, proclaim her love for him, and brag about things that fell under the category of too much information. Micah didn’t seem to care or even notice Jess’s antics, and Clarke loved him for it. He was different than his friends were. She began to wonder how he ever hooked up with these people.

Between the rations and the food from Clarke’s house, they were all well fed. Only Clarke knew about the stash, and Micah wanted to keep it that way. If Cody or Dustin found the supplies, they would surely steal it. With the new rationing system in place, an underground trade network had quickly emerged, and Micah’s friends were fully entrenched in it. Micah shuddered at the thought of those two finding the weapons. Things like guns and ammo were probably valuable commodities on the black market.

Every morning, Cody, Dustin, and the girls ventured out to trade. On ration mornings, they left empty-handed, but on regular mornings, they took any leftover items with them. Several hours later, they would return with things like junk food, beer, cigarettes, and sometimes pot.

Since Micah and Clarke weren’t tagged, they stayed behind whenever the others went out. Clarke loved it when Micah’s friends left the house. She didn’t care where they went just that they were gone. She only wished that one day they’d leave for good.

That morning, Micah and Clarke watched out the window as the group walked away from the house.

“Micah, why are they still here? It’s been two weeks.”

“I can’t just kick them out,” said Micah. “Besides, it’s fun having them around. And as long as they keep sharing their rations with us, we won’t have to dig into my stash.”

“I don’t trust them, especially Jess.”

Micah didn’t respond. Deep down, he had been thinking the same thing. He wasn’t surprised by Cody and Dustin’s illicit actions, but he was surprised by their generosity, and he was definitely surprised by Jess. Something was up with her. Why, suddenly, did her parents allow her to stay out all night? As long as he had known her, they’d always been strict, but now, she could do whatever?

As the group walked out of their view, a man strolled into it. He stopped and looked at the door.

Clarke recognized him first. “It’s that priest from St. Francis.”

“Is it?”

“I saw him standing out there a couple of times before,” said Clarke. “One day last week, when you were outback, he rang the doorbell.”

“Did you answer it?” asked Micah.

“No,” replied Clarke.

“Why not?”

“You said that we needed to ‘stay off the grid’.” Clarke made air quotes with her fingers.

“Yeah, but he’s a priest.”

“And priests never do anything bad.” Clarke looked at Micah and shrugged her shoulders.

“You’re right.” Micah laughed. “What do you think he wants?”

“I dunno. Does he know you or your parents?” asked Clarke.

“I don’t think so. We never went to that church.”

“Are you an atheist or something?”

“No. How ‘bout you?” asked Micah.

“I’m Catholic. We used to go to St. Francis, but I haven’t been there in a while,” said Clarke.

“I mean do you believe in God?” asked Micah.

“Of course, I do,” said Clarke.

“How ‘bout the devil?” Micah turned away from the window and looked squarely at her.

“I don’t like to think about that, but I guess if I believe in God, I have to believe in the devil.”

“Then I guess I have to believe in God,” said Micah.

“You believe in the devil?” Clarke scrunched up her nose.

“Yeah...so I guess I have to believe in God. Right?”

“Micah, how can you believe in the devil and not God?”

“I’ve seen the devil. I’ve never seen God.”

“Very funny, Micah.” Clarke turned back towards the window. “Look, he’s leaving. He did that same exact thing the other times. Creepy. Do you think he’s watching us?”

“If he rings the doorbell again, maybe we should answer it. Find out what he wants. If he’s looking for trouble, we have plenty of ways to defend ourselves.”

“Speaking of which…will you show me the ‘stash’?” Clarke cocked her head, widened her eyes, and pushed out her bottom lip. “Pretty please…everyone else is gone, and I promise I won’t tell anyone about it.”

“I guess I can show you, but you have to promise not to say anything.”

“I promise.” With her right finger, Clarke made an imaginary X over her heart.

Even though Micah already told Clarke about the bunker, he worried what she would think when she actually saw it. Up to this point, she seemed to think he was kidding about the whole thing. “Come on, it’s in the basement.”

Clarke made a silent clapping motion as she turned to follow Micah.

When Micah stepped down from the bottom stair into the basement, he paused and took a deep breath. “This is our basement. My parents finished it before we moved in.”

“Nice. It’s kinda like another family room. My basement looks like a limestone dungeon compared to this. Does your family hang out down here a lot?” Clarke walked to the pool table and picked up the cue ball. “Can you play pool?”

“Nope. This is just for show…like camouflage.”

“So you don’t even watch TV down here?”

“Never. Come on. We need to go into the bathroom.” Micah motioned for Clarke to follow him.

Clarke rolled the cue ball across the red felt tabletop and watched the white ball bounce off the side and into the far left pocket. She followed Micah into the bathroom.

Micah closed the door behind her and locked it. He then pulled the frosted glass shower door open and stepped into the shower stall. “This isn’t a real shower.” He pulled on the shower knob and the wall swung open.

“Cool,” Clarke said.

“When my parents designed the basement, they installed a hidden room with a secret door. It has lead walls, a self-contained ventilation system, a generator, a security camera, and an automatic safe door with a combination lock. They filled it with a two-year supply of everything: food, water, medicine, and weapons.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said that you were ready for the Zombie Apocalypse.”

Micah tried to laugh. He remembered joking with her about the zombies. That conversation seemed like it happened a lot longer than two weeks ago.

Clarke followed Micah into a small, windowless room. Upon entry, she saw two sets of bunk beds flanking the walls on either side of the door, shelves lining the remaining walls, and a small table surrounded by four chairs sitting in the middle of the room.

“So, this
is
a bunker.” Wide-eyed, Clarke walked towards the supplies.

Canned goods, jugs of water, and packets of dried foods filled the shelves.

“What’s this?” Clarke picked up a silver packet the size of a juice pouch.

“MREs.”

“Huh?”

“Meals Ready to Eat. It’s dehydrated food.”

“Where do you even buy something like this?” asked Clarke.

“Amazon.”

She returned the MRE to the shelf. “I don’t understand why your parents built this room, but thank God they did.”

“Before we moved to LaGrange, we used to live on a farm in Maryland. I guess it was more like a compound, a survivalist compound. My mom grew up there and so did her dad. When she married my dad, he moved to the farm. I was born there.”

“Huh, I’ve never met a survivalist before you. How old were you when you moved here?”

“I think I was five or six. Owen was a tiny baby. I kind of remember it. After my grandparents passed away, my mom didn’t feel like she had to stay on the farm. But mainly we left because she wanted me and Owen to have a normal childhood.”

“This is probably more normal than growing up on a compound, but I wouldn’t say this is normal.” Clarke continued to inspect the room as she talked.

“You don’t know the half of it,” said Micah.

“What? Tell me.” Clarke paused and gave Micah her full attention.

“Oh man…you’re going to think my mom’s insane when I tell you the rest.”

“No, I won’t. I promise.”

“Hhhh, I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.” Micah looked at the floor. He couldn’t bear to see her reaction to what he was about to say. “Okay…my mom thought that she descended from angels.”

“That’s not too crazy.” Since Clarke wanted to hear the whole story, she did her best not to react.

“When I was little, she told me the same bedtime story every night…a story about Michael the Archangel. Have you heard of him?”

“Isn’t he the one who kicked Lucifer out of heaven?”

“Yeah, but her story had a little more to it. According to my mom, Michael had a lover, another angel named Abra. Michael and Abra had been together for hundreds of years, and they were expecting their first child.”

“Aw, a little angel baby…”

“When Lucifer rose up against God, he had a following of other angels. And when he was banished from heaven, his followers were banished too. Abra was one of Satan’s followers.”

“Oh no!” Clarke put her hand up to her mouth and gasped.

“She fell to the earth along with her unborn child. Abra missed Michael and regretted her alliance with Lucifer, but she didn’t realize the full impact of her mistake until she gave birth to her son, Adonijah. Not only did she separate herself from God and Michael, but she also deprived her son of their eternal love. So she renounced Satan and raised her child among humans in God’s name.

“Abra wasn’t allowed to return to heaven, and she never saw Michael again. But God forgave her, and as a gift for her devotion, God blessed Adonijah and allowed him to keep his archangel status. As an angel living on earth, Adonijah was given the title of Guardian and the weapon of Truth. Adonijah and his descendants had to stay vigilant and watch for Satan’s return. And when Satan rose from perdition to claim the earth and heaven as his own, the Guardian would lead an army in battle against Satan.”

“So…you’re supposed to be the descendant of Michael and Abra?”

“Uh…yeah. Me and Owen. But since Owen’s gone, I guess it’s just me. Crazy, huh?”

“I don’t know…. I think it’s cool. I’m going out with an archangel.” Clarke giggled.

Phew, all his worrying had been for nothing. She took that way better than he thought she would take it.

Clarke resumed her inspection until her eyes settled on a wood box perched on the top shelf. “What’s that?” She used a chair to retrieve it and then set the object down on the table. “Jeez, this thing is dusty. Huh…I thought that maybe this was a box, but it’s just a slab of wood.” After brushing off the dust, she read the letters etched into its surface aloud. “KUSHTA…. What does that mean?”

“Not sure.”

“It looks old. Do you know what it is?” she asked.

“That has been up there for as long as I can remember. It’s a family heirloom. My mom never let us touch it. She said that when I turned eighteen she would tell me the story behind it. I guess I’ll never find out now.”

“Micah, don’t say that. You have to stay optimistic.” Clarke paused. “Speaking of heirlooms, we never went back for my locket.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. I forgot. I can go tonight.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s probably better to wait until my mom leaves town.” Clarke returned the artifact to the shelf. “Where are all the weapons?”

“Over here.” Micah pulled a trunk out from under one of the bottom bunks. He opened it, revealing an arsenal of guns and knives.

Clarke knelt down next to the trunk to get a better look. “Oh my God…” She reached in and pulled out a black pistol. “Do you know how to use this stuff?”

“That’s a Jericho, 9mm. It’s a semi-automatic.”

“It’s a whatsy-what?”

“It has a magazine, and after you fire, it will automatically reload.”

“It’s heavier than I’d thought it’d be.” Clarke put the gun back in the trunk. “So many guns. Hey, is that a machete?”

“Ah, the machete. The perfect zombie killing weapon.” Micah pulled the machete out. He held it high and inspected the blade.

“I’d rather use that Jericho gun,” said Clarke.

“And what happens when you run out of ammo? You’ll be beggin’ for my machete.”

“Luckily, there haven’t been any zombies yet,” said Clarke.

“No, just Satan. I doubt any of this would work against him.” Micah returned the weapon to the box.