Zompoc Survivor: Inferno (10 page)

“Sir?” the man in brown said with a rising note of fear in his voice. “This man has a bite on his leg.” Suddenly every eye was on me as he backed away. Guns came up as Caleb stepped in front of his prophet, and Amy pushed her way past the woman looking her over to stand in front of me.

“He’s not infected!” she said.

“He’s been bitten,” Caleb said, just a little too eagerly for my taste.

“I was gummed,” I said. “It didn’t break the skin. Besides, if your man here had any medical training and better light, he could see that it’s a three day old bruise.”

“Sister Susan, go take a look,” Hall ordered. The woman in blue stepped forward and edged her way around Amy, then knelt at my side. She pulled a penlight out of her coveralls and played the light along my ankle, then ran it up my leg.

“He’s right, sir,” Susan said as she stood and looked me over again. “It’s a bruise, there’s no scabbing or break in the skin. I’d say it happened about two or three days ago.” Hall nodded and put his hand on Caleb’s arm. The big man’s mouth twisted into a sour expression and he slowly holstered his weapon. Susan handed Amy her clothes back, and I noticed that she stood between her and most of the men while she got dressed.

Once we were dressed again, Hall directed one of the men to take our gear and store it in the armory. The men carrying our stuff split off from us there, and we walked along a glass concourse that led along the side of another building, then over a street that was blocked off by concrete barricades and overturned trailers that stretched across the road and in front of the building we were heading toward. A couple of men in black and more in brown walked along the top of the makeshift wall, each carrying a rifle. The more numerous men in brown coveralls carried civilian style rifles and no other gear. The men in black, though, wore assault vests and carried assault rifles, and both of them had a sidearm of some sort. Hall led us around a curve in the catwalk and into the lobby of a hotel. The logo over the front desk proclaimed that we were at the Kansas City Crown Westwind Hotel. Beige and brown ruled the comfortable room below us, though in the natural light it seemed less elegant and more like a well-appointed cave. The gift shop and restaurant below us were lit by old wick lanterns, and I could see more of the men in black lounging in the restaurant. Then we were leaving the lobby and being ushered into a broad terrace that was dominated by a plant-covered rocky cliff wall on one side, and a view of Union Station on the other. Two black clad men were standing at the stairways and another was standing near a table in the middle of the room. Women in blue coveralls stood in a line near the far wall, each holding a burdened tray. Hall strode across the floor without a pause, leaving us to follow him.

“Please, sit down, break bread with me,” Hall said as he took his seat at the end of the table and gestured to the seats on either side of him. “Enjoy the blessings the Lord has bestowed on His chosen.” Amy gave me a nervous glance, and I nodded at her. We sat in the chairs closest to him, and his eyes went straight to Amy. “You’ll never know fear or hunger again, darlin’” he said. The women came forward and set two ice filled glasses in front of us, then poured water and tea. I reached for my glass and took a long pull of the water. It had been days since I’d had cold water, or anything with ice in it. Nothing had tasted so good to me as iced water did just then.

“How did you get ice?” I asked once I pulled the glass away from my lips.

“Generators, Brother,” Hall said with a broad smile. “We liberated more than a dozen from the servants of the Devil’s lapdogs, and there are more waiting to be found all over the city. Kansas City encompasses over seven thousand square miles and is home to two million people. Or it was until a few days ago. Now a city that once housed, fed, and served two million is home to less than one percent of that number.”

“That’s still about twenty thousand people,” Amy said. “Most cities only have enough food and supplies for about three days, right?” she asked me.

“She is a bright girl,” Hall said. “Definitely your daughter.” I didn’t bother to correct him.

“She does raise a good point,” I said. “Even with the population drastically reduced, assuming your estimates are right, you still only have a year’s worth of supplies in the city itself. And most of the nonperishable food that’s already on the shelves or warehoused still won’t last more than a couple of years. What then?”

“You don’t question the prophet,” Caleb growled at me from his spot behind Hall, but the prophet just smiled and held his hand up languidly.

“No, Caleb, it’s okay. You ask some very good questions, Brother David. Questions someone has to. But you forget I’ve been to your website, I know you’ve already asked yourself those questions. I know you already have answers to them. That’s why we need each other. You have the knowledge, and I…well, I have the men and the resources to make sure that those supplies go much further. Why should we try to spread limited resources among everyone equally when the Lord has blessed only some? Don’t you see? This is God’s Holy Word being spoken to us directly. There are other groups of survivors in the city, unholy gatherings of the impure and the weak. But you had the good fortune to be led to me.” As he finished, two women in blue came to the table and set down covered platters. Steam billowed from under the covers and revealed thick steaks topped with a creamy, white sauce, baked potatoes and bowls of salad. My mouth watered so hard I felt my saliva glands cramp up at the back of my jaw when the woman set the plate in front of me.

“Thank you,” I said. She flinched when I turned to face her, then bowed her head quickly. The woman across from me froze in place with Amy’s plate an inch from the table. The pause was brief, but I caught the movement of her head as she averted her eyes. Amy reached for her fork, then stopped as Hall spoke.

“Let us pray,” he said as he reached for her hand. Her hand went to his slowly, and he began to say grace. The words were lost as my nose twitched under the assault of the scent of the food in front of me. With my eyes closed it was almost all I could concentrate on. Finally, the word “Amen” registered, and I opened my eyes. My mouth was too busy with the food to ask questions for a few minutes, but I noticed the way Hall’s gaze went to Amy as she devoured her salad. His smile never quite reached his eyes, but I could tell we were doing exactly what he expected. By this point, I figured most people were hungry enough to trade their souls for a few crackers, much less a hot steak dinner and some iced tea.

“So, what’s with the jumpsuits?” Amy asked as she set her salad bowl aside.

“The good Lord Jesus said that if any man desire to be first, then he shall be last of all and servant of all. It’s the natural order of things. Some work, others risk their lives for the safety of the rest, and some have to take responsibility for the lives of those under them.”

“Workers in blue, soldiers in brown and the elite in black. Everyone’s role is clear,” I said between bites of my steak.

“Very astute, Brother David. But don’t think that the elite, as you call my disciples, lead an easy life at the expense of others. Taking responsibility for the lives of so many is a heavy burden, one I hope you find yourself equal to.” He smiled at me as I took another bite of steak, savoring the blue cheese that topped it.

“At least you understand that it’s a responsibility,” I said after a few moments. “The needs of the many, right?”

“That one man should die, that the whole nation not perish. Your knowledge of the Bible is astounding, Brother David. The disciples do take up a tremendous burden in stewardship.”

“But I take it those burdens have their own…rewards?” The look on his face truly scared me in that moment, because for the first time since I’d met him, the smile finally reached his eyes. And those eyes were glued to Amy.

“Unto whomsoever much is required, Brother, of him shall much be given by the Lord. That is God’s Will. Your rewards will be great indeed, so long as you stand in service to me. You’d know your little girl was safe, I can promise you that.” I nodded and stuck another bite of steak in my mouth to buy myself a few moments.

“I’d like to take a look around,” I said after I took a swig of the iced tea. “Get an idea of what we have to work with already, and what we need.”

“Of course!” he said with a toothy smile. He turned to Amy. “Tell me, my dear, what do y’all think of our little Garden of Eden?”

“If it wasn’t for the zombie apocalypse, I’d swear I was in Heaven,” she said. For the next twenty minutes, Amy did her thing, chatting about nothing at all while we ate and completely distracting Hall. Finally though, the last of the food was gone and our host got to his feet.

He led us down through the lobby and out onto the street. The Westwind made up the northwest corner of the Crown Center Plaza. The Grant Building made up a good chunk of what I figured was the north side, and Crown Center took up the west side. The Discovery Hall stretched across the south side, and a long, staggered building completed the east side. In the middle was the plaza itself. Scattered around the open space I could see people in blue jumpsuits working at a dozen tasks, none of them easy. Some were pounding away at the sidewalks with hammers and pickaxes, while others were busy working the exposed ground with shovels and hoes. Men in black stood around the big courtyard, guns cradled in their arms. None of them got too close to the actual work, but they watched the people doing it close enough. In front of the Crown Center, I could see men in brown doing pushups, being yelled at by another group of men in black, none of who seemed to be working nearly as hard as the men they were leading.

“You asked for a garden, darlin’,” Hall said as he gestured at the organized chaos before us. “I give you our garden, or what will be in due time.”

“I take it this is going to be dedicated to crop production?” I asked.

“Gardens here,” Hall drawled as he gestured at the area directly in front of us, “and our poultry and dairy stock over there.” He pointed to a nook made by the Grant Building and the big building to the east. “I estimate at least three acres here.”

“More if you use the roof as another garden area,” I said. Hall laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.

“Not here but an hour, and already you’ve helped us double our crop yield,” he said. “I think we should change your name to Solomon!” I laughed with him and kept my hands at my sides instead of around his throat. One of the black clothed disciples approached us and genuflected. Hall made a casual gesture and the man straightened. Behind him two other disciples escorted one of the workers, a Hispanic man with a weathered face and gray at his temples. The first disciple leaned in and whispered in Hall’s ear. The prophet turned back to us with a pained look on his face.

“Brother David, I’m going to have to ask that Amy go back to the hotel for now. You’re welcome to stay on and observe, but this isn’t something a woman needs to see.” Amy let one of the men escort her back toward the hotel as the disciple led the other man forward. My gut clenched as the workman was shoved down to his knees.

“My men here tell me that you’ve been causing some problems,” Hall said.

“Not problems, sir,” the man said. “I was just telling the disciples here that if we could take a break once in a while, or maybe get some water so we don’t get dehydrated, we could get more done in a day.”

“Who are you to presume to tell me this?” Hall said. “What makes you think you know better than the Lord’s own prophet how to create the new Eden?”

“My name’s Earnest Garza, sir. I’ve owned my own landscaping business for fifteen years. One of my crews could do twice as much as we’re doing now, even by hand.”

“I see,” Hall said. “And I take it you’ve found some support among the rest of the workers?”

“Of course,” Garza said. “We’ve already lost a few people to dehydration. No one wants to see their family hurt.”

“Of course not,” Hall said softly. “Call your supporters forward. Show me that other men share your concerns.” He gestured to the disciple behind Garza, and he helped him to his feet. I wanted to warn him, to tell him not to say anything, but all I had to go on was the growing pit of fear in my stomach. “Any man who thinks as this man does, please, show yourselves. Share your concerns with me, so I might see you.” Garza turned and gestured toward the workers surrounding us, and several stepped forward. Disciples moved around behind them, and Garza turned back to face Hall.

“You see, Prophet, I’m not the only man concerned for his fellow workers.” He stepped closer and his voice took on a sincere tone that matched his name. “We can do so much better here, we can make this the Garden of Eden you told us it could be. We just need to work a little smarter.” Hall smiled at him for a moment, then nodded to Caleb. Around the plaza gunshots rang out, and the men who had stepped forward dropped where they stood.

“Nooooo!” someone screamed. When something slammed into the back of my head, I realized that it had come from me. I fell to my knees and got pulled right back to my feet. Hall looked at me, his face twisted with rage, then turned his gaze back to Garza, who stood ashen faced before him.

“Your place is to work. So you
work
! You don’t think and you
never
question me. To question my authority is to question God’s Will, and I will not allow that kind of blasphemy to find fertile soil here.” Two disciples brought a woman and a teenaged boy forward, and Hall held out his hand toward Caleb. The big man drew his own sidearm and handed it over.