One day a new family was seen meeting with the pastor at the farm, and Adrian went out to meet them, hoping to strike up conversation, create a new set of allies, and try and gain more intelligence on the strange farm. His gambit worked. The family was more than willing to set up a meeting, and after careful consideration, Gilbert and Patty were chosen to go.
Gilbert was contacted the night prior by The Voice.
“You are about to meet another of my chosen.”
“The Pastor? You sure are a prolific sonofabitch.” Gilbert said in a tired voice.
“Indeed. Those of the cloth are easily swayed with convincing illusions.”
“What exactly is the deal here?” Gilbert was done caring.
“The Pastor has been told that a man of pure evil will come into his Garden of Eden, and that it is his responsibility to take this evil man to task.”
“You want him to kill Adrian, don’t you?”
“Kill, or maim. It does not matter which.”
“Done trying to corrupt him already? Was his soul more resilient than your determination?” Gilbert smirked in the cold of the dreamscape.
“There are others I can get to. If the Soul is murdered now, it will not matter. He is but one of a group of threes.”
“Well fuck you then. All this bullshit for nothing?” Gilbert was angry again.
“Your wife’s soul is still in my safekeeping. You would be advised to continue to do my bidding Gilbert Donohue. There are more tasks ahead. This task is but one. You are to meet with the Pastor, and tell the Soul afterward the Pastor is a good person, and harmless. Soon after the Pastor will take action, and the Soul will be killed.”
Gilbert swallowed. A world without Adrian in it seemed very strange to think about. He blinked several times in the cool air, thinking hard about the ramifications of fully condemning Adrian to his death.
“Your time on this world is nigh Gilbert Donohue. Spend it wisely serving my needs, and you shall spend eternity with your beloved in paradise. It will all be worth it.”
Gilbert sighed, and woke up. There was another white poppy on the pillow next to his head.
*****
“Hello sir, I’m Gilbert Donohue. I’m told you’re the man to see here at this farm.” Gilbert looked inside the small plexiglass window of the reinforced farm stand. It straddled the heavy cow fence that kept the roaming undead out, as well as the animals in. It now passed as a fortified meeting place.
The Pastor was a wide man with well trimmed white hair and one too many chins. He had a red face that spoke of too many late nights with a whiskey glass in his hand. His nose was covered in a spider web of fine, hair-like capillaries that were blood red.
“Good to meet you Mr. Donohue, and God bless. The Edwards family down the road claims that you’re good people. I’m happy to meet good people. How can we help you here today?” The Pastor seemed jovial behind the heavy glass. It also helped that there were two armed guards behind the cow fence, watching the goings on carefully.
“Well, we travel about town frequently, and we’re looking for a place to trade. You’ve got farm animals I see, and we’re thinking it might be beneficial to work something out,” Gilbert said as Patty watched. She was intently observing the area around them for movement or threats. She would let Gilbert do the talking and watch his back.
“Well, depends on what you’ve got spare. Let’s hear it,” the Pastor said. The two men exchanged lists of items they had for trade, and after just a few short minutes of talking, it was apparent a great trade agreement could be worked out. Had Gilbert no idea this man was the pawn of evil, this meeting would have been a momentous occasion for both groups.
Gilbert had another question he needed the answer to. “Pastor, there’s just one more thing I need to know.”
“Speak your mind sir.” The Pastor replied.
“We’ve got a kid in our group named Blake, and he says you’ve got his girlfriend here, and he thinks she’s pregnant, and he thinks she is here against her will. I promised him I’d ask about her.”
The Pastor nodded just as Gilbert had seen a thousand holy men do before him. The knowing, confident nod. “Blake’s lady Kimberly came to us when she felt Blake was too dangerous to be around. She knew she was having a baby, and I had a dream sent to me by God to invite her in. I extended the offer, she accepted, and now she resides here, she is well, and she is waiting to have her baby protected by God’s chosen.”
Gilbert knew exactly what kind of dreams the Pastor was having. He had to know anyway. “Dreams? What do you mean dreams?”
“When I rest, occasionally the Lord comes to me. He speaks to me from the darkness through the dead. The spirits of the faithful come to me in the cold void where God meets us halfway from Heaven, and they pass along his wishes. When I follow these visions, every time we reap a bounty that could only come from God’s will.”
Gilbert died on the inside. The poor bastard really was being tricked by the Devil. Gilbert nodded and listened as the Pastor continued with his story, telling about all the dreams that led them to other women around town that they rescued. He even went so far as to claim that some of them had immaculately conceived once they were brought inside the steel fence. Patty unconsciously took a step back from the barricade when he said that.
The two old men continued with their conversation for a bit more, and when Gilbert was satisfied the man was completely under the sway of The Voice, and he knew this could only end badly for everyone, he and Patty left. When they returned to the bright eyed and hopeful Adrian, Gilbert vomited up a lie about how solid the Pastor was, and how everything was normal, and fine. He twisted the story of the dreams into a tale that Adrian would believe and digest. Adrian felt relief that the Pastor was having dreams just like his. Gilbert was revolted by his deceit.
Days later the Pastor had another dream in the dark place, and he sent his people to murder Adrian.
They failed, but killed Abigail’s first love, one of the small children that had moved into the school, the mother and father from the Edwards family that had help them make the meeting happen, as well as wounding many of the people who had moved to the school for safety. Gilbert himself had taken a slashing across an eyelid during the firefight that nearly blinded the eye. He would need weeks to heal and fully regain the use of the orb.
Adrian’s wrath was complete. Together with Gilbert and Blake that very night they returned to the farm, and murdered almost every soul there seeking justice.
Gilbert feared the act of Adrian wreaking vengeance on the farm would tip the scales in favor of evil, but the world didn’t suddenly come to an end that night, and he retained some hope for the future of mankind on Earth.
It wasn’t a lot of hope though.
*****
“You will perform one last task for me before your death Gilbert Donohue. I will hold your debt to me paid. Your wife shall rejoice for all eternity, and so shall you by her side if you see this deed done for me.”
Gilbert was so fed up with the bullshit. He had no more energy left. No will to continue with this emotional torture, night after night, nightmare after nightmare. His wife’s soul was the only thing left for him to cling on to inside. He had already abandoned his own soul as long since lost.
“Fine. One last task and we’re even? You leave me alone forever? My wife goes to Heaven?”
“You will never hear from me again if you see this done.”
Gilbert closed his eyes, and opened himself up to the last instructions he would receive from the Devil.
“Not long from now the Soul will assault a structure in your town. It will be thick with my minions, and it will be the Soul’s final resting place. Soon you will be asked to perform a task which only you can do, and you will do it poorly, and damn him to his fate.”
“What is this task?”
“There are a few streams the river of choice can take still. We cannot see the outcomes completely. However, with your damaged eye, the task shall be one of tedium, and easily done. Whatever it is you are asked to do, you shall sabotage it, and see him to his fate.”
Gilbert nodded, and when he opened his one good eye, he felt like his life was finally over. He felt his traitor’s death was not long away, and his relief was like a warm hug from his wife.
*****
“Hey Gilbert, I got an idea for you. Can I run something by you?” Adrian asked the old man one day shortly after as they gathered around the table to eat.
“Shoot.” Gilbert scooped a small amount of boxed mashed potatoes out on his plate as Adrian served himself some canned asparagus.
“With us focusing so heavily on getting the campus walls built, and the gate made, I’m thinking we get you doing something we’ve been putting off for awhile. With you blind as a bat in one eye, and old as hell too, I’m thinking now would be a great time to get some bullets made with the reloader we found.”
Gilbert hid his revulsion, “that sounds great. Nice to be even a little useful I suppose. I’ll get started on the 5.56 for the rifles tomorrow.”
“Phenominal.” Adrian looked happy.
Gilbert knew then he had a final choice to make as Adrian sat down next to his friends to eat. Next to the handful of men, women and children Adrian had risked his life to save. The Soul had nothing to gain personally. He was doing this only to be a better person, and to give others hope.
Gilbert had to tamper with the ammunition, and get everyone going into the Devil’s lair killed, or damn his and his wife’s soul to eternity in Hell, and earn that traitor’s death the Devil had promised him.
Gilbert didn’t make the decision about his beloved wife until he sat down all alone at the reloading station he’d built himself, tears streaming down his face in rivers of sorrow and guilt.
“I’m so sorry.”
“So, so sorry.”
A traitor’s death would be such a welcome rest for Gilbert Donohue.
June 18
th
Well.
This is going to suck. I’m not looking forward to this one bit. That apartment building has seen some shit, and now it has fallen to us to deal with it. But, I think it will be worth it, if we can pull it off without killing ourselves.
There are people inside. Specifically, we made friendly contact with the remaining inhabitants, and there are seven of them. Four of which are on the fourth floor, three on the third floor. They’re spread out in three different apartments, and they’re trapped on the third and fourth floors. Can’t go up, can’t go down.
How did we glean that nugget of information? A megaphone. I stole one of the megaphones from the gym the other day and when we returned to the apartment building this morning, we parked on the street at the base, set up some firing positions in case we were shot at, and I started hollering up with the damn thing. Smartest idea ever, or smartest idea EVER?
I’m damn lucky I didn’t get killed I suppose.
We had to yell up for perhaps fifteen minutes before someone leaned over the railing of a balcony. It was a young kid, little dirty looking, needed a haircut, and was maybe 22, or 25 or so. Younger looking than Blake, but probably about the same age. He started yelling down to me.
“Hey, yo, quit yelling, you’re gonna drag a shitload of them here!” The kid yelled.
“Don’t worry, we can handle it. I’m Adrian, who are you?” I said back.
“I’m Zach! My boy Ryan is here too. We got a bunch of people up here and we can’t leave and shit!” He yelled back down. No sooner had he said that another young guy with a shaggy beard leaned over the railing next to him. They looked like big time hippies. They waved down at me.
Within a few seconds the other people started leaning out the windows, and looking down at us. On the fourth floor with Zach and Ryan two men leaned over a balcony and identified themselves as Alex, and George. They were maybe mid thirties, dressed remarkably well considering they were surviving the end of the world trapped in a burnt out apartment building, and stood with their arm around each other. George looked Asian to me, and they both looked gay from the ground level. I’m not judging.
On the third floor a married couple came out on the balcony and announced themselves as Martin and Julie, and after a bit of talk, they revealed that they had a nine year old boy inside named Chester. I like that name. Anyone who names their kid Chester gets style points in my book. I bet that kid is cool shit. Although I hope his middle name isn’t molester.
I won’t go into every little ugly fucking detail. We sat there talking for nearly three hours, going back and forth with the different groups in the building about what had happened to them, and how they were surviving, apparently trapped on just two floors of the building.
Zach and Ryan made it through “that day” at The Golden Palace, the best Chinese restaurant downtown. (Awesome dumplings) Once they thought it was safe enough, they high tailed it to Zach’s apartment, and locked it down. Alex and George were there all along, as were Martin and Julie. Other people in other apartments came and went over the first few days, but for the most part, the building was unoccupied. During winter, some of the people started to freeze, and they started small fires to stay warm.
Remember back when we were on the roof of the grocery store and I saw scorch marks on the side of this building? It was as I suspected. People trying to stay warm, and dying as a result. As you can imagine, fires make smoke, and before you know it, several floors of the building were engulfed with the acrid, lethal stuff.
Lots of folks died. Martin and Julie slammed the fire doors shut on the third floor and barricaded them, locking the people below them out from the upper floors. In fact, Martin was an industrial welder in his professional life, and he was the same guy who welded the bottom doors with plate steel to reinforce them. He did the same for the fire doors to keep the dead out.