Authors: James Hunt,Roger Hayden
“The woman looks like a fucking nutcase,” David said.
“Now David, look. I didn’t bring you so you could rile these people up. Just look at them. They’re clearly living in desolate circumstances. No wonder they reached out to us,” the Sheriff said.
“They said they wanted to trade and to barter. Where are their crops? Their livestock? This place looks doomed,” David said in protest.
“Keep your voice down,” Shelly sneered as some of the camp’s residents walked by carrying buckets of water.
“We need to be ready to walk away. The fat lady in there, she’s not right. I can see it in her eyes. Just like the other guy, Walter. We’d be stupid to have anything to do with these people.”
“David, I’m surprised by you. These people are no different from you or me. And you better get used to it, because as long as I’m in charge I’m going to make sure we help as many people out as we can,” the Sheriff said.
“I got it, Sheriff. I don’t like it, but I got it.”
Sister Bonnie slammed her office door and circled Walter as he stood in the center of the room. The office was cluttered with stacked boxes, dusty furniture, and old clothes. A small futon sat in the corner near a stained-glass window, which depicted a flying dove surrounded by an array of colors.
“I thought I had made it patently clear that there were to be no visitors allowed in our church,” she said with her arms interlocked behind her back.
“You had asked to see them, Sister,” Walter said.
Sister Bonnie grabbed Walter by the collar of the shirt and pulled him near.
“That’s the problem; you don’t think these things out. Just because I want to meet our newfound friends doesn’t mean that I grant them permission to enter our church. It’s a sacrilege. They are not of the same heart and mind. Their presence alone in here denigrates the walls, the windows, our shrine, and our very beliefs.”
“So we have them join us, problem solved,” Walter said.
She loosened her grip on his collar and pushed him away.
“It’s not that simple and you know it. Minds have to be cultivated, nourished with the word and the truth before they join.”
“But they have food. Real food. They have supplies. I mean, you name it. They’re very well prepared.”
“They also mocked us. I heard everything they said.”
“Give them a chance. We need their help. Some of them might even be open to the prophecy.”
Sister Bonnie stopped in front of Walter and stared him down.
Her brown eyes were tired, slightly bloodshot, and fierce. “I want to make something clear so there’s no misunderstanding here. We don’t need anyone’s help. Do you hear me? Have you forgotten your place? Have you forgotten who I am? How dare you lecture me about help.”
Walter blinked rapidly and tried to keep his composure. “Yes ma’am, Sister Bonnie, how foolish of me.”
She backed away and calmed herself. “Maybe you have a point, but I’ll be judge of what these outsiders can and can’t offer us.”
“Yes, Sister Bonnie,” Walter said.
The church doors opened, revealing a smiling Sister Bonnie and an amicable Walter.
“Sorry about that,” she said to the group.
“Not a problem, ma’am,” the Sheriff said.
David turned his head away to roll his eyes. Walter stood between the Sheriff at the bottom of the stairs and Sister Bonnie a few steps up.
“Allow me to introduce everyone. This is the Sheriff, he’s, as you would guess, a sheriff,” Walter said with a laugh. “Then to his left is David, to his right is Paul, Rob, Ryan, and Shelly.”
“Welcome, I’m Sister Bonnie,” she said.
“You’re pretty good with names there, Walter,” the Sheriff said.
“Always have been,” Walter replied.
“I’m good with names too, guess we have something in common,” the Sheriff said.
Sister Bonnie clasped her hands together and spoke.
“First I want to thank you and your group for taking the time to come out here. We haven’t had any visitors in a while, so it’s nice to see some new faces. So please, let me give you a quick tour of our camp.”
The New Haven group grumbled as the Sheriff politely nodded. Sister Bonnie walked from the steps and out into the camp as they followed. Walter walked closely behind.
“Now I know it doesn’t look like much,” she said. “But we’ve got everything we need out here. There’s fresh well water, we’ve got small crops, chickens, and we’re even working on a school house for the children.”
Sister Bonnie led the group past the tent camp through an area enclosed by trees. The wooden frame of a building stood before them. Blocks of wood were stacked in piles nearby.
“As you can see, it’s a work in progress.”
As they journeyed onward, Sister Bonnie showed them the fresh water well, their area for crops, and separate pens that housed chickens and pigs.
“That’s quite interesting,” the Sheriff said. “We got some livestock of our own back in town as well.”
“Can’t survive the apocalypse without it, right?” Sister Bonnie said with a smile.
“Guess not,” the Sheriff replied.
“Our biggest project right now is a waste management system. As you know disease and illness can spread from improper management of trash and waste, and as it gets colder we have to keep our people healthy.”
“So that landfill along the camp, that’s your waste management solution?” David asked.
Sister Bonnie didn’t miss a beat or appear offended.
“We’re working on different approaches at the moment. We’ve tried burning, but haven’t found a great enough distance to burn it safely from the harmful vapors.”
“On that note, I noticed that you don’t have a single vehicle around camp. Why is that?” Shelly asked.
“I’ve taught my people not to rely on modern contrivances. The sooner we can live completely within our own means the better.”
“And what have they said about that? I mean, without a vehicle you’re severely limited in mobility. What if something were to happen? What if you had to flee?”
“Something
is
going to happen. And we’re not going anywhere, we’re going to wait, and then ascend to our proper place for all of eternity.”
Shelly caught something in Sister Bonnie’s comment that struck her. Sister Bonnie had said something was going to happen, as if oblivious to what had already happened.
“Sister Bonnie, if you’d please. Do you mind telling us what you believe is going to happen?”
Leading the group back to the tent area, Sister Bonnie replied.
“I speak of the apocalypse, the end of times as we know it. Perhaps your people may see the light before they perish as well,” she continued.
Coming to an end of their tour, they stopped in front of the church.
“Tell me something, Sister Bonnie,” the Sheriff said. “You’ve been living out here for a month?”
“That’s correct. One month and six days.”
“So. So you. Have any of your people—are you aware of what’s going on out there?”
“We have a group that goes into town and gets supplies. I’ve heard some things. Nuclear war they say, but it doesn’t matter. Either way, it’s always like I envisioned it.”
“Now let me get this straight, you’ve been out here for one month, preparing for the apocalypse as you call it.”
“This is all very personal information, Sheriff. But seeing as your group helped us out and came out here to visit, I’ll let you in on a little background. I’m a preacher’s wife. My husband Phil, he passed away not too long ago. He left me heavily in debt and alone. About the only thing I had left was this church. Then he visited me from the afterlife and warned me of an apocalypse on the horizon. He told me that I needed to prepare our followers so that we may survive. Before he left, he told me that I had the power to unlock the seven seals.”
“Sister Bonnie, I think that’s enough,” Walter interrupted with a nervous smile. She snapped out of her openness and resorted to a more formal voice.
“Yes, you’re right Walter,” she said. “I don’t know what gets into me sometimes.”
She turned to the Sheriff and took his hand into hers.
“Thank you so much for taking care of our people the other day. Now you know where we are and if you ever want to hear the word for yourself, we’re here to share it.”
“That’d be nice. I’m sure we’ll have some time later down the road to visit again.”
“Sister Bonnie,” Ryan said, cutting in. “I don’t mean to pry, but I saw someone roasting squirrel near one of the tents. It would seem to me that you don’t have the proper food you need out here. When people are reduced to eating something like that, one would think there’s a serious lack of resources.”
“We are at desperate times,” Sister Bonnie replied.
“Fair enough, but—”
“I think what Ryan is trying say is that if you ever need anything just ask. Our food supply is carefully rationed and controlled, but we may be able to help out from time to time,” Shelly said.
David cut in. “Yes, we’d be happy to trade with your group. We could do a couple chickens for some squirrel meat; maybe a car for some trash in your landfill.”
“That’s enough, David,” the Sheriff said.
David walked back to the truck in frustration. After he was out of hearing range, the Sheriff apologized for him.
“It’s quite alright, Sheriff,” Sister Bonnie said. “The cowardly, the unbelieving, they shall all be consigned to a fiery lake in the end.”
Shelly’s mouth dropped open. Walter laughed and placed an arm around Sister Bonnie. “That’s why we love her, she doesn’t mince words.”
Sister Bonnie came out of her strange trance and resumed the conversation with the group. “It has been a pleasure meeting you all. Admittedly, we don’t have much to barter, but Walter will try to arrange something for your troubles.”
“Any fuel?” the Sheriff asked.
“They don’t have any cars, Sheriff,” Ryan said.
“Yes, but I noticed that fuel shed in the back, behind the church.”
“Good observation. We do have reserves for our generators; we can give you some for the trip.”
“That would be wonderful,” the Sheriff said. He wasn’t going to leave the camp empty-handed.
The two groups shook hands and went on their separate ways. As promised, Walter topped off their fuel tank. The F-250 was tough on gas, but it was one of the most reliable vehicles they had.
“So what was the point of that?” David asked, once everyone piled back in the truck.
Paul, again, sat in the truck bed.
“To establish relationships with other communities,” the Sheriff answered.
“That wasn’t a community, it was a loony bin. Those people have been out there for a month. They don’t have a clue what’s going on. If there hadn’t been a nuclear attack, they’d still be sleeping in tents, eating squirrels, and squatting in their own filth. Only difference now is that no one cares enough to do anything about it.”
“David, that’s enough,” the Sheriff said. “I know you’re paranoid, but let it go. Besides, that woman lost her husband.”
The Sheriff paused for a moment. “I can relate to her loss and what it does to your mind.”
Sister Bonnie, Walter, and some of the other people from the camp waved goodbye to the New Haven group as they drove off. Once the truck was down the road and out of sight, Sister Bonnie turned to Walter.
“I don’t want to see another person eating a squirrel in this camp again. Do you hear me?” she scowled.
“Yes, but—”
“No excuses, just listen to me. I put you in charge of looking out for our people’s well-being and then I have to hear some smart aleck comment from a slippery heathen? Take a team out tomorrow and get us some real food. Find a shop, homes, I don’t care. If all else fails, go to New Haven if we have to, though I’d hate to give them the satisfaction. We need to keep an eye on them.”
“Do you not trust them?” Walter asked.
“What’s to trust? They’re part of the old way. Their kind will soon be extinct, paving the way for a new beginning.”
“They can always join us.”
“If they decide such, then they may be saved yet. Until then, watch them closely.”
Chapter Ten
Outbreak
It was getting cold fast. A consistent lack of sunlight compounded the dwindling temperature. It was Day Fourteen, and Paul was still stranded in New Haven. The three days the Sheriff had promised had passed. Paul remained patient, as he knew the Sheriff was heavily invested in the bunker construction. Paul had lent a hand the day prior. The hours were long and exhausting and his back and shoulders were sore.
“Day fourteen,” he said. “Today is the day.”
He fully intended to confront the Sheriff and not do a single thing until the keys to a vehicle were in his hands. Then he took a moment to listen to himself and how demanding he was sounding. No one was putting a gun to his head to stay, but he was, for all intents, stranded. If not for the people of New Haven, he would have been killed. Though he didn’t think he could shovel again as he could barely move his arms. He remembered the Sheriff had said that things would get back to normal soon. For the Sheriff, such an outlook kept him going, and he wanted the town to feel the same way. But for Paul, nothing was normal without Samantha. He ached each and every day. He felt like less of a person. Half of who he was. He felt like he would sell his soul if only to hold her for one minute, though he had no idea if she was even still alive. The morning started like the ones before it, with the Sheriff knocking on his door.