Authors: James Hunt,Roger Hayden
The constant gunfire from both sides caused the Sheriff to hesitate his every move. He could feel Harold approaching. He waited for the right moment to spring. Dead bodies littered the road. The Seventh Order had lost half of their people, and New Haven hadn’t done much better. Out of the thirty residents who had taken up arms, sixteen remained. The Sheriff could hear Harold’s feet hit the pavement as he reloaded his sniper rifle. It was the moment to strike. Paul ran down the road after witnessing the gunfire and explosions from the safety of the front yard of the townhouse. He couldn’t believe that he was actually running toward the chaos rather than away from it. As he got closer, smoke filled the air and blocked his vision. The sickening and familiar smell of gunfire engulfed his lungs.
From behind him, two trucks drove by at full speed. Jordan and Rob had joined the fight, but as they arrived, they became just as disoriented as Paul. It was hard to tell who was who and what was what. The Sheriff jumped up from his position and fired both pistols into the air. Harold flew to the ground and rolled, avoiding every shot. He brought his rifle up and fired it, hitting the Sheriff in the leg. The Sheriff fell down as both his pistols rolled out of reach. Harold approached his twitching victim with intense glee in his eyes.
“You’re mine now, Sheriff.”
Rob swerved his truck to the side, slammed on the brakes, and called to the small group riding in the back.
“Those are Seventh Order people, take ‘em out!”
His passengers jumped out of the truck and fired at the intruders without hesitation. Paul caught up with Rob and Jordan’s group, clutching his shotgun. He wanted to do something. He wanted to end the madness and death, but was only another person with a gun in the battlefield of a quaint neighborhood. Harold raised his rifle and aimed squarely at the Sheriff’s head.
“Nice knowing ya’, Sheriff, but it’s time for you to check out.”
“No!” Sister Bonnie’s voice shouted from behind Harold.
“Do not shoot him.”
Harold turned around as Sister Bonnie approached them. She walked casually to the ground near the Sheriff and picked up one of his pistols.
“Now, Sheriff, I’m not a malevolent person. We have plenty of blood spilled now on both of our sides. I really wish it hadn’t come to this. That’s why I want to give you one more chance, one more chance to join the Seventh Order and put this entire unpleasantness behind us.”
“Sister Bonnie,” the Sheriff said gasping. “I wish you would kindly go to hell.”
Harold smiled and looked at Sister Bonnie with hope that she would finish the job.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said as she aimed the pistol at the Sheriff. She held it for what seemed like an eternity while the Sheriff closed his eyes and prepared for death.
“I—I can’t,” she said. “I just can’t do it.”
The Sheriff opened his eyes in surprise.
“Harold, I think you know what to do,” she continued.
Harold’s grin grew larger than imaginable. He nonchalantly brought his rifle back into the air and pointed it at the Sheriff.
Paul ran past the cars, past the barriers, looking for the end to it. He staggered haphazardly over several bodies in his path. Past the smoke and dense fog, he saw the Sheriff lying on the ground, five feet in front of him, with a gunshot wound to his leg. Standing over him was Harold, poised and ready to shoot.
“Hey, maniac,” Paul shouted, diverting Harold’s attention.
Paul raised his shotgun and fired upon him. The spray of the blast sent Harold spiraling back through the air to a thud on the ground. Sister Bonnie screamed, raised the Sheriff’s pistol in the air, and fired at Paul. Paul jumped to the ground and rolled behind the barricade. His head smacked against the concrete and knocked him out. Sister Bonnie held the pistol and caressed its grip.
“I think there’s only one bullet in here. I can feel it.”
The Sheriff dug into the gravel around him and attempted to drag himself away. Blood from his leg smeared along his path as he moved. Sister Bonnie disregarded Paul and turned her attention to the Sheriff.
“All I wanted was for us to live together in harmony. What was so hard about that?”
The Sheriff continued to pull himself along the ground, grunting with every movement.
“There may be hope yet for some of your people, as long as you’re not around to lead them astray.”
The Sheriff rolled over onto his back to address Bonnie. “This town will never be yours, and your people will always be misled as long as they’re following a fraud like you.”
He spit at her. A small drop hit near her feet. Sister Bonnie held up the pistol and pointed it at him. Her hand shook, but she tried to remain calm.
“Damn you, Sheriff, for making me do this.” As she squeezed the trigger, her hand flew upward with the pistol. She hadn’t expected such kickback and force. An empty cartridge fell on the ground near her.
“Freeze!” Melvin shouted, coming out of nowhere.
Sister Bonnie held her hands in the air and dropped the pistol. Melvin looked down and saw Paul lying against the barricade wall unconsciousness.
“Sheriff, you okay?” he asked.
The Sheriff didn’t respond.
“Sheriff, what’s your status?” he asked again.
He took a closer look and saw that the Sheriff had an open bullet wound in his forehead. Sister Bonnie had struck him right between his eyes. Melvin collapsed on his knees in stunned disbelief. He lifted the Sheriff a few inches from the ground and shook him fervently. The Sheriff’s body was limp and unresponsive.
“Come on, Sheriff. Snap out of it,” Melvin said.
Sister Bonnie stood with her arms still in the air. She looked around for signs of her people. It was too dark to see past the smoke in the air. She had instructed the children to wait in the forest until the coast was clear. Her concern for them grew as she weighed her options for escape. Paul awoke and brought a hand to his swollen head. A bump had already formed, his vision was blurred, and he wasn’t sure what was happening in front of him. The shotgun was lying near him, and he vaguely remembered firing it. He rose, rubbing his head and moaning like he had just woke up with the world’s worst hangover. His eyes met Sister Bonnie’s as she stood nearby. He recognized her but couldn’t place a name. The minute they made eye contact, Sister Bonnie ran the other way.
“Hey, get back here!” Paul shouted.
He sprinted after her with his head throbbing all along the way. Melvin gently rested the Sheriff back on the ground and turned around to where Paul had been. He looked up and saw Sister Bonnie fleeing and Paul chasing her.
“Don’t let her get away!” Melvin shouted.
He looked back to the Sheriff, lifted his hat from the pavement and placed it over the Sheriff’s face.
“Damn,” he said. “Damn it all to hell.”
Melvin got up and followed Paul. Sister Bonnie had made it to the ashes of New Haven’s walls while Paul lagged behind. He ran with a limp, but didn’t plan on letting her get away. She looked back with worry, hoping that Paul was no longer behind. He was right upon her. Paul cried out and leaped, tackling her to the ground. They rolled onto the jagged ground of burnt wood and gravel. Sister Bonnie screamed as the heat from the wood ember singed her skin after burning through her dress.
“Get off of me, you freak!” she shouted.
Paul clutched onto her back, not giving in. He had never tackled a woman before, and Sister Bonnie had put up one hell of a fight. She nearly threw Paul off her before Melvin ran up with his gun drawn in the air.
“Get off her, Paul,” he said.
Paul looked up confused, but complied and rolled off her. Sister Bonnie lifted herself off the ground and rapidly hit the ash off her dress.
“No one touches me, understand? This creep goon of yours has crossed the line,” she said.
“Shut up,” Melvin said. “I’m taking you in.”
Sister Bonnie looked around. “In?” she asked. “In where? Who the hell are
you
?”
“I’m making a citizen’s arrest. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done here today. All the lives lost, for what? For nothing,” Melvin said.
Sister Bonnie laughed. “We’re not going to stop until the town is ours.”
“Look around you, lady,” Melvin said, circling around her. “There’s no victory here. The town isn’t any more yours than it was before you came here. All you’ve managed to do was create death and destruction.”
Sister Bonnie wasn’t fazed.
“You’re wasting your breath,” Paul said to Melvin. “She got exactly what she wanted. Let’s just hand her over to the Sheriff.”
Melvin gripped his rifle and caressed the trigger. His aim was centered on Sister Bonnie.
“You have no authority to do anything with me,” she said. “I have children to attend to now if you’ll excuse me.”
“Take one step and I’ll shoot,” Melvin said.
“Enough of this,” Paul said. “Don’t do it, Melvin. Don’t let her become a martyr. We’re not like them. The Sheriff would say the same thing.”
“The Sheriff’s dead, Paul,” Melvin cried. “He’s dead and she shot him.”
Paul froze and stared at Melvin. “Are you sure? When did this happen?”
“When you hit the ground and knocked yourself out, she took one of the Sheriff’s pistols and shot him in the head. Stone cold.”
“Where is he?” Paul asked in disbelief.
Melvin signaled behind them. “His body is right over there. See for yourself.”
Paul ran off leaving Melvin with Sister Bonnie. She looked back at him with utter defiance. “If you shoot me, those children will have no one to guide them.”
“The same children you used as human shields? The same ones who lost their parents today because of you?”
Sister Bonnie stormed off as Melvin spoke.
“Get back here!” he shouted as he fired his gun.
The bullet hit within inches of her feet. She froze instantly.
“You’re not getting off that easy,” he said.
Chapter Fifteen
Aftermath
Rob, Carlie, Jordan, and a few other New Haven residents rounded up five men from the Seventh Order. The men surrendered without resistance and were quickly subdued. There were too many bodies lying around to make a full estimate of the loss. The fire had spread to the entire front half of New Haven’s walls, until the residents eventually contained it and put it out. Paul ran up to the first barrier and noticed a man dead on the ground with a hole in his head. It was one of Sister Bonnie’s men, Terry. Five feet away, Paul recognized Harold’s corpse as steam rose from the crater in his chest. Everything started to come back to Paul. He had shot Harold, sending him backwards into the air. Then he remembered throwing himself to the ground to avoid getting shot himself. A vibrant flash came and everything went black. Then he woke. Two legs covered in blue jeans, wearing boots lay before him. He scanned upward and saw a sheriff badge pinned to the man’s shirt. The man’s face was also covered by a hat. If it wasn’t the Sheriff, it was an uncanny resemblance. Paul knelt down and slowly lifted the hat off the man’s head. He was met by the empty stare of the Sheriff’s lifeless eyes. Blood had run out of his nose and down his face. He had a small hole in the middle of his forehead. Paul placed the hat back over the Sheriff’s face and stood up upon hearing commotion near the New Haven Park.
With their weapons in hand, Rob and Carlie circled their captives, taunting them.
”Looks like you’re the only ones left. That’s too bad,” Rob said.
The five middle-aged men were meek and unresponsive. Jordan stood to the side, not sure what to do. He looked out into the darkness, trying to find Paul.
“Hey, I’m going to check on everyone else,” Jordan said to Rob.
Rob nodded and turned back to the men.
“So… you call yourself the Seventh Order. I assume you’re probably waiting for that big spaceship in the sky to take you to heaven. Well, we’ll do you one better.”
Rob signaled to Carlie. She nodded back.
“We’ll send you there now,” Rob continued.
Rob and Carlie took a step back and unloaded their weapons into the men, mowing them down like leaves in the wind. The unexpected gunfire caused Jordan to jump. It scared the hell out of him. He turned around just in time to see Carlie fire her last shot into the already riddled bodies of the Seventh Order survivors. The other New Haven residents stood by not saying a word.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jordan asked.
Rob and Carlie smiled at each other then turned to Jordan. “We’re doing what needs to be done. We’re not letting a single one of them leave. If you find anymore, you better let us know.”
“It’s not right,” Jordan said. “We’re not executioners, and those men had surrendered.” Jordan looked around for someone to join his outrage. “Doesn’t anyone agree with me?”
“Maybe you need to get back out there on the road with your friend, Paul. Both of you have to be the most ungrateful pair I think I’ve ever met,” Rob said. He then looked at the New Haven men and women standing around them. “Let’s get all the Seventh Order bodies in one big pile here and burn them.”