Red Runs the River Page 13

  Mitch felt like he was roasting in the sun and wanted Saw to get to the point already.

  "But that's all long gone now, ain't it? Anyway, like I said, I got it all figured out. And it'll be a hell of a lot more entertaining than kicking around a ball. Mitchy, we're gonna have battles."

  "Battles?" Mitch asked.

  Saw nodded, excited. "Every night. It's gonna be fookin amazing. You just wait. Just wait and see."

  The look in Saw's eyes was a sort of frenzied glee that Mitch found terrifying and alluring at the same time. Anything that could make Saw this excited was bound to be horrific. And that made Mitch all the more excited.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The small town before them was surrounded by steel shipping containers, just as Owen had told her it would be. It was fifty yards in the distance and all she could see over that barricade were occasional rooftops.

  "How do we get in?" Juli asked Owen, who stood beside her.

  The rest of the group had remained far behind, as Grady had instructed. As Grady had assured her would be for the best. But, now that Juli saw the fortifications which surrounded Brimley, she had her doubts.

  "We knock." Owen passed her by and continued to the town.

  Juli chased after, her feet kicking up dust in the dry, August heat. "Do you have a secret knock? Like Morse code?"

  Owen was at the containers, at one which was turned with the steel doors facing them. He rapped on it a couple times with his knuckles. The hollow tap-tap-tap gave an almost musical quality. He glanced back at Juli.

  "No, just a knock," he said.

  They waited, but the doors didn't open. Instead a voice came from above. "Owen?"

  They looked up and saw a young man standing in a makeshift lookout tower. A rifle was slung over his shoulder and the sun backlit him, preventing Juli from getting a good look at his face and she couldn't tell whether it was friendly or not.

  "Hey, Pete."

  "Shit man, it's been a while. Who's the broad?"

  Owen cocked his head in Juli's direction. "Juli Villarreal. She's a friend. Let us in before we get heatstroke out here will ya?"

  "Yeah. Hold up."

  Pete disappeared from the tower and she heard footsteps against the metal as he descended. Juli raised her eyebrows at Owen. "That's all?"

  Owen nodded. "They're good people. Just like us."

  More footsteps sounded inside the trailer and they got closer. She heard metal grate, then slide, and the double doors swung open.

  Now that Juli could get a good look at Pete's face, she saw it was indeed friendly and a toothy smile filled the bottom third of it. He gave Owen a rough hug that rocked them both on their feet.

  "Thought you ran away from home and joined the circus," Pete said.

  "Don't believe everything you hear."

  They separated, and Owen turned to Juli. "Juli, this is Pete. Pete, Juli."

  Pete extended his hand and Juli shook it. It was dry and calloused, the grip firm. He had sandy blond hair and freckles dotted his cheeks, nose, and forehead. "Nice to meet you, Ma'am. Sorry I called you a broad earlier. My mouth works faster than my brains sometimes."

  "I've been called worse," Juli said with a smile that she hoped didn't look as nervous as she felt.

  Pete's attention returned to Owen. "So where have you been, man? We thought you were lost in the wind."

  "That's why I'm here, actually. Why we're both here."

  Pete kept grinning but his eyes belied confusion. Nevertheless, he beckoned them forward. “Well come on in. I know everyone's going to be excited to see you."

  Pete led the way and Juli and Owen followed.

  Juli had known her share of lying men. From her philandering husband to her father who beat her mother behind closed doors, only to assure Juli and her siblings that their mother was a clumsy drunk who had a habit of walking into walls and falling down staircases.

  Owen Varner was a humorless, bland man who had spent thirty-three years building highways in Nebraska and, as he spoke, Juli thought he could lie as well as any man she'd ever known, maybe even a tad better. His steel gray eyes seemed almost transparent, his voice velvety smooth. If Juli hadn't known better, she'd have believed him herself. Hell, she almost did anyway.

  He talked and laughed and commiserated with the men and women of the town he helped found for over two hours, all the while promising them that, even though they had a good life in Brimley, there was a better one waiting outside the walls. All they had to do was keep an open mind. And at the end of it all, Juli was certain he'd convinced them.

  So, the next day when Grady stood in front of row after row of empty chairs, she was more surprised than anyone. Certainly, more surprised than Grady who went through with his sermon even though the only people close enough to hear his words were the people who were already devoted to him. No one from Brimley came within a mile of the revival and, when it was over, Juli expected Grady to be distraught, perhaps even angry.

  Instead, when she approached him afterward, he seemed indifferent at worst, but more at peace than anything else.

  "I'm so sorry, Grady. We let you down. I failed you."

  "You did no such thing."

  "We tried. We really did. And Owen gave the best sales pitch I'd ever heard, even better than Donald in the Kitchen when he was trying to sell me a new set of porcelain cookware. I don't know what happened. Why they wouldn't listen to us."

  Grady, who had been folding and stacking chairs, turned to her. "It's fine, Juli. I knew this would happen. It was part of the vision."

  She stared at him, struggling to find words. Did he really mean that or was it something he was saying to ease her guilt? "You what?"

  "I knew the residents of Brimley wouldn't come to us. That they wouldn't leave the safety of their town. Those walls are their burning bull. They trust in them more than they trust in God. They're Heathens. And we have to save them from themselves."

  Juli stared at him, curious and confused. She didn't know why he sent them there in the first place if he knew they wouldn't come and half-believed he was making all of this up as he went along. But that wasn't the man she'd known for the last four years. That man couldn't tell a lie if his life was at stake.

  "But Grady," she said. "How can we do that when they won't listen?"

  Grady's eyes shined and Juli realized he had a plan. That he'd had a plan all along. "Those men and women had a chance to come to us. To put their lives in the hand of God, yet they refused. And so, tomorrow, we go to them."

  He turned away from her and recommenced folding and stacking chairs as if all of this was routine, mundane. Juli had no idea what Grady's - or God's - plan was, but seeing the peace that enveloped him, she had no doubt it would be a success.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Saw chose Diesel, the bartender at the Dry Snatch, to be the first participant in the battles. He accepted this fate grudgingly and tried to use the fact that he only had one eye to weasel out of it, but Saw assured him that it wasn't a bad thing. Hell, it was an honor really. Diesel's chance to be a hero in front of every man and woman in Shard End.

  As the sun set, fifty-gallon barrels had been filled with trash and debris, then set ablaze turning the makeshift arena of automobiles into a glowing, orange stadium. Everyone in town came out to see what Saw had planned and none of them left disappointed.

  For most it was standing room only but Saw and Mina sat in lawn chairs perched on a platform made of scaffolding, giving them a bird's eye view. He looked around, pleased with himself for coming up with this grand idea and proud of Mitchy for helping pull it together.

  Saw found Mitch standing a few yards away, sidled up with one of the local slags, Violet or Petunia or Rose. Something flowery her name was. They seemed close and, even though Saw wouldn't have got his pecker within ten feet of a bint like that, he was happy for the boy.

  Saw turned his attention to Diesel who sat atop a rusted-out Ford Explorer, rocking back and forth. Saw
thought that, if they waited any longer, the man might tuck tail and run and that certainly wasn't how he wanted his games to begin. So, he rose to his feet and cupped his hands around his mouth.

  "I'd start off with 'ladies and gentlemen' but we don't have any of either here in Shard End."

  The crowd laughed, their noise rough and throaty. Even their joy was hard around the edges.

  "So instead I'll say this. Welcome to all of you ugly sons of bitches!" The crowd applauded, stomped their feet, smacked their hands on the vehicles that formed the arena. "What we've got planned tonight is the first contest in a tournament of sorts. And our first contestant is Diesel."

  Diesel looked toward Saw as if waiting for stage directions.

  "Stand up, man."

  Diesel did. Some of the crowd gave muted applause but most watched with avid anticipation.

  "Hop on down there."

  Diesel climbed down from the Explorer and into the ring. He looked confused and terrified and stared up at Saw like he expected a last-minute reprieve.

  Saw wasn't about to do that. "Good on ya. Now, boys, bring in his opponents."

  From opposite ends of the arena, two men, an Asian Saw knew only as Kwon and a hulking mute everyone called Polo, each dragged a zombie over the cars and into the ring. They used catch poles to keep them at bay and to keep themselves safe and once the zombies were inside the confines of the ring, they loosened the nooses and slipped off the tethers.

  The zombies staggered about as if trying to get their bearings, sometimes homing in on a spectator outside the ring and outside their reach.

  "Now you might be wondering about the rules," Saw shouted and the zombies turned toward the sound of his voice. "There ain't none. Diesel's job's to kill these bastards without getting bit. He succeeds, and he gets to choose who goes in the ring tomorrow. If he fails, well, we know what happens. It won't be comely. Sound fair enough?"

  The crowd yelled in the affirmative.

  "Good. Now Diesel, you give that bonnet a good bang and get this show started."

  Diesel hit the hood of the car beside him, but not too hard. Saw glared at him and he gave it another try. This one was harder, louder, and it drew the zombie's attention.

  Saw sucked on his bottom lip, excited to see how this would play out.

  At first, Diesel kept to the edges of the arena, like a boxer staying on the ropes and making his opponent come to him. The zombies followed, growling and hissing. Diesel looked more panicked with each passing moment and even tripped over a chunk of a fender, allowing the zombies to get close as he scrambled to his feet.

  Mina leaned in close to Saw and spoke into his ear. "If they kill him this fast, those people," she motioned to the onlookers. "Are going to be awful disappointed."

  Saw shook his head. "I think the lad'll put up a bit of a fight. I'm not counting him out just yet."

  He gave her a quick smile and she returned a weak one.

  "Cheer up, love. It's better than being stuck in the house isn't it?"

  Mina didn't answer, instead looking to the ring where there was a zombie on each side of Diesel. The crowd was docile with only an occasional jeer breaking their silence.

  Diesel must have realized staying on the defensive wasn't going to be a winning strategy and he grabbed hold of the arm of the zombie that was closest to him. The creature was a middle-aged man in a cheap business suit. Diesel took a good grip on his jacket sleeve, then he swung the monster in a circle, slamming it into one of the vehicles lining the ring. It fell to the ground.

  That move got the crowd more interested and several spectators began shouting, some even throwing out words of encouragement.

  "Get the fuckers!"

  "Kill 'em, D! You got this!"

  Saw was pleased to see their growing excitement. And he had a feeling it would only get better.

  Diesel stomped on the zombie on the ground, then turned to the other creature. It was close enough to grab him and almost did, but Diesel ducked sideways and avoided its grasp. He jogged a few yards away, to safety, but the move allowed the fallen zombie to regain its footing and soon both were coming for him again.

  Saw watched as the man moved further away from the zombies, scanning the area around him, searching.

  Diesel's eyes locked on a piece of brick lying on the ground. He snatched it up, gripping it in his hand. Zombie number two, a shirtless young man in athletic shorts whose six pack was evident even in death, was closer. It trudged toward Diesel and as soon as it was close enough, Diesel swung with the brick and smashed it in the face.

  The zombie's almost aristocratic nose folded sideways, and a large gash opened on its face, oozing black blood. Diesel swung again. This time the brick hit the creature in the ear and the blow sent it to the ground.

  The crowd erupted in boisterous screaming as Diesel crouched over the zombie and used the brick to hit it again and again and again. The monster's head was nothing more than a pile of broken skull and destroyed brain by the time the man was finished.

  When Diesel looked up, his face was tattooed with blood spatter and his lone eye blazed. The crowd shouted in approval.

  Saw grabbed Mina's narrow thigh. "Told ya, love. One down."

  Mina looked toward the action, but Saw wondered if she was really seeing it. She'd been so aloof lately. He thought she'd be at least somewhat grateful that he was off the heroin. That she'd show her appreciation. But no matter what he did, she seemed like half of her was somewhere else. Her attitude had him wondering and a curious Saw wasn't a good thing.

  He tried to forget about that to focus on the battle that was happening below. Diesel had finished off the younger zombie and was focused on the suited creature. That man was taller and broader and when Diesel swung the first time with the brick, he only hit it harmlessly in the shoulder.

  The zombie grunted as if annoyed and reached for him, catching hold of Diesel's shirt which ripped down the middle, allowing him to slip away. What Diesel lacked in size, he made up for in agility and he ducked behind the zombie before it could react.

  He took the zombie by the collar and shoved it toward the nearest car, pinning it against the vehicle. The creature flailed with its arms, but its clumsy, slow protestations were of little use. Diesel slammed the brick into the back of its head and Saw thought he could hear the crack twenty feet away.

  The zombie went limp and its body slithered along the car before hitting the ground. Diesel stomped on the back of its skull for good measure, but it was done.

  The spectators roared with approval and Saw rose to his feet. "Well done! Very well done! A round of applause for our lad."

  The noise as they screamed and stomped and clapped was so loud it made Saw's ears ring, but he didn't mind at all. He hadn't cared much whether Diesel won or lost. He only wanted blood to be spilled and he got that. And that was only the beginning.

  Chapter Thirty

  The sun had barely crested the horizon, its golden rays casting long shadows before every tree and shrub. And even longer ones from the settlement of Brimley where the town was little more than a series of dark angles, backlit by the morning glow.

  Grady stared at the town from fifty yards away. It was as he'd seen it. As he knew it would be. He couldn't see any of the residents, but he knew most were still in their beds. He knew the few that were awake were in the process of getting dressed or eating breakfast, still fighting away the sleep from which they'd recently escaped. He knew they had not the slightest clue of their coming fate.

  In his vision, God had explained his plan. He told Grady what needed to be done to save what remained behind of mankind. And Grady knew the next months would not be easy. He knew there would be pain and sadness. Loss and mourning. Death and destruction. And it all began here.

  They were less than ten yards from the town when Grady looked back to his followers. There were so many of them, all eager to do whatever was needed to fulfill God's will. Even if Grady hadn't been shown the future, he would have ha
d complete faith in this flock.

  He watched a dark silhouette skirting the exterior walls, ducking into and out of the crevices and crannies. Soon, the person turned and came toward them.

  Grady met Owen half way, now less than 100 feet from the town. "It's done?"

  Owen nodded. In his hand he held an oversized, decades old walkie-talkie. "Been a while since I did this, but it's the kind of thing you don't forget."

  Owen kept stealing nervous glances toward the walled off town. Grady placed his hand on his shoulder. "I understand that you know these people. Lived with them. But this is what must happen."

  "I know. I believe in you, Grady." Owen pushed the radio his way. "Just push 'talk'."

  The walkie talkie was so large that Grady almost needed to use two hands to hold it. His eyes settled on the button, and without any hesitation, he pressed it.

  The front wall to Brimley collapsed in an explosion of smoke and debris. The blasts were so loud that it shook the ground and Grady could feel the tremble underfoot. Owen's years’ experience had paid off and the devastation created a forty-foot wide hole. More than they needed.

  In the minutes after the bombs went off, the men and women of Brimley emerged from their homes. Many still in their pajamas and nightclothes. Some so shocked they stumbled out half dressed. They carried nothing but fearful expressions. No weapons. When they saw what waited outside their walls, some ran but most stared on with abject horror.

  Juli, as usual, was at Grady's side and her hand closed into a fist as she grabbed on to his shirt sleeve.

  "What now, Grady?"

  Grady didn't look behind himself, but he waved his free arm overhead.

  "Go forth!" He shouted.

  He could feel them moving. His flock. There were so many they displaced the otherwise calm air, stirring up the dirt and creating a dust storm so heavy it made it hard to see.