End Days Super Boxset (138 page)

“We need to contain this situation before it gets out of control. The group calls themselves the Seventh Order. They’re a serious bunch and I don’t want to take any chances. What happened to Ryan was tragic, and I was told that they lost two of their own in the shootout. You better believe they’re going to want retribution. Now, it’s true, we have reached out to them before, offered aid and assistance, so there shouldn’t be any reason for this to get more out of hand.”

“Bring them to justice for killing Ryan!” one man shouted out from the crowd, followed by cheers of approval.

“Yeah, you’re a Sheriff, do something about it, arrest them!” a woman shouted.

The Sheriff raised a hand in the air.

“We need to remain calm through this to prevent further violence. Their group travels on foot, and we aren’t going to wait for them to come to us. I want to take two trucks over there, with about fifteen people. I’m willing to work this out, but they have to know we mean business.”

Jordan stood next to Paul and Julie, watching the Sheriff from the crowd.

“What the hell happened out there?” he asked Paul.

Paul looked over to him and then to Julie.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said.

“I need about twenty armed volunteers to go with me to their camp. No more wasting time,” the Sheriff said.

“You were shot at?” Jordan asked.

“Not now, Jordan,” Paul said.

“We need to get the hell out of this town,” Jordan said under his breath.

“I know. I’m working on it,” Paul replied.

Jordan looked over to Margie a few rows ahead of him. She was lost in deep concern. He liked her or was starting to like her. She filled the void of his lost family, though he knew very little about her. She had mentioned being widowed but didn’t go into detail. Perhaps he could stay and get to know her. Then he thought of the danger surrounding them and felt foolish for thinking of romance. Maybe he could take her with them.

“I want everyone to know that the tragedy of Ryan’s death is not in vain. The medicine they retrieved has been distributed to our sick. Hopefully, it does the trick and everyone starts getting better. After this, I’d like to get with our favorite town nurse and get an update on how everyone is doing,” the Sheriff said.

Margie raised her hand from the small crowd so that the Sheriff could see her.

Julie looked up to Paul.

“Does that mean Tommy is going to be okay?” she said.

“Tommy?” Paul asked.

“My friend, the boy whose room you stormed into,” Julie replied with an annoyed tone. Paul thought to himself.

“Yes, of course, Tommy. I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind. Why don’t we go check on him later and see how he’s doing.”

“Do you mean it?” Julie asked.

“Yes, I’d like to see his mother, maybe even apologize to her,” Paul said.

“You don’t need to apologize. You helped get the medicine,” Julie said with a smile. The sudden admiration in her eyes took Paul by surprise.

“Thank you for that,” he said.

Paul looked around. Plenty of people had attended Ryan’s service, but there were many still recovering from illness. New Haven seemed like good people, and he couldn’t help but feel a certain closeness to them. It was time to make a decision. It was time to make a stand.

“If this turns into some suburban war, half of the townspeople are sick in bed. Those cult people will wipe us out,” Jordan said into Paul’s ear.

“I’m going to try to get Margie to come with us.”

Paul looked at him with surprise. He could have easily responded by telling Jordan that he was an idiot, but he had been trying to make amends.

“We need to leave tonight,” Jordan continued. “We steal a car, I don’t care. I’m not sticking around to be target practice for some cult.”

Paul didn’t respond but looked back in understanding.

“Jordan!” a man called out.

It was Alan, one of the men who worked in the operations center. He had helped Jordan conduct much of the research necessary to gain the info about the nuclear strikes. He ran to them.

“Hey, the Sheriff is asking for you. He wants us to come with.”

Jordan tried to look away, but then Alan called out for him again.

“Come on, let’s get ready to go.”

Paul looked to Jordan. “Shit,” Jordan said.

The crowd began to disperse as a group of hotheads surrounded Jordan.

“We need some new faces, no one who could be recognized by the cult group. Sheriff doesn’t want to stir up any emotions once we get there.”

It was all the answer Paul needed. Somehow, someway he was going to get a car, even if it meant stealing one. The Sheriff was talking to Margie with the town pastor standing nearby. Several of the people went back to their homes. It had been a strange, dark day, and there was no telling what lay on the horizon.

“I should really stay here,” Jordan told the men. “I don’t really feel comfortable going. Something about getting shot would just ruin my day.”

The men laughed but remained undeterred. “Come on now, Jordan,” the biggest of them said with a slap to Jordan’s back. “We won’t let anything happen to ya’.”

Paul leaned in and spoke in Jordan’s ear. “Just go, I’ll get everything arranged,” he said.

“Don’t you think about leaving me,” Jordan said back as the men pushed him away.

Paul felt a tug on his arm and he looked down to see Julie. “Can we go visit Tommy now?” she asked. Paul thought for a moment.

“Okay,” he said.

As they walked down the street, Paul heard the Sheriff call to him. He stopped with a sigh. “Yes, Sheriff,” he said, turning around.

“Here’s the key to my Chevy Malibu, it’s in the garage,” the Sheriff said, handing him a single car key.

“Gas is at half a tank. I ran her last night, just to make sure she still runs.”

Paul’s hands squeezed the key in his palm. “Sheriff, I don’t know what to say,” Paul said. “I really don’t want to desert the town just yet.”

“We’ll survive,” the Sheriff interrupted. “I know you’re a man on a mission, and I want to see you accomplish it.”

“There’s one issue though. Jordan is going with you,” Paul said. The Sheriff placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

“I need Jordan, don’t worry, nothing is going to happen to him. You have the car key, and you know now that I’m a man of my word. Get yourself packed and ready and we’ll be back in an hour with your friend.”

Before Paul could respond, the Sheriff walked away. About halfway down the street, the Sheriff stopped and turned back to Paul.

“You know what’s funny? My name is Peter. My wife’s name was Mary. Your name is Paul. It’s like that one folk group,
Peter, Paul, and Mary
,” The Sheriff laughed, receiving a smile from Paul in return. “Be careful with that Malibu, it used to belong to Mary,” he added.

Paul remained in the street holding the key with Julie at his side. “Can we go see Tommy now?” she asked in an impatient tone.

“Yes,” Paul said. “Let’s go see Tommy.”

“That’s far enough!” Walter shouted to the New Haven group.

Terry--with his bobbing blond hair--and Harold--with his large scar--followed behind with their rifles raised in the air. After the warning, they stopped at a sizable distance from the Sheriff and his group. In reaction, the men in the Sheriff’s group raised their weapons, armed with everything from rifles to pistols and shotguns. The Sheriff kept his pistol holstered by his side as he waved his arms in the air.

“Hold on, let’s start this off on the right foot. We just came here to talk, to reach an understanding,” he said.

Jordan had been handed a .38 caliber revolver by one of the townspeople when they left New Haven.

“What do you want me to do with this?” he asked.

“Use it if you have to,” the man told him.

Jordan stood to the rear of the second truck holding the revolver in the air. He knew that he should have brought his own pistol but forgot it through all the commotion.

“This is bullshit… this is bullshit…” he repeated under his breath.

“The only understanding that we’re going to have is you getting the hell off our land,” Walter said.

“I know there are a lot of mixed feelings and emotions right now. I know that we’ve both lost people as a result of an avoidable tragedy,” the Sheriff.

Walter examined the group.

“Where are the dirty sons of bitches that killed our people?”

“You know that wouldn’t be fair if we brought them. Wouldn’t be fair to us, and wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“So you’ve said your piece, what else you got?” Walter asked.

The Sheriff gave Walter a closer look.

“I’m surprised in you, son. Only a couple of days ago, you came to us. We took you in and offered assistance. Now it seems like that’s all in the past.”

“My gratitude for the charitable nature of others has its limits. I will say that it’s the only reason you and your group are still standing,” Walter said with provocation.

“I was hoping we could negotiate something. Reach some sort of compromise,” the Sheriff said.

“That’s exactly what I was going to suggest,” Sister Bonnie’s voice echoed from behind Walter. She arrived with a small group of followers at each side. “I would very much like to negotiate.”

Walter turned to Sister Bonnie, trying to keep her from getting any closer.

“Sister Bonnie, it’s not safe for you out here. Please, let me talk to these gentlemen on your behalf,” Walter pleaded.

“That’s not necessary, Walter. They came to see me, and I’m going to afford them the opportunity.”

“We have everything under control, please, just let me talk to them—”

“You have lost your place, now join the rest and fall to my side,” Sister Bonnie said in a scolding manner.

Walter stared at Sister Bonnie but was met with an angered glare. He backed down and did as he was told. Sister Bonnie took the lead and stood ten feet from the Sheriff.

“I too am saddened over the loss of life faced on both our sides.”

Walter bit his tongue. He was troubled to feel his loyalty wavering. He had thought Sister Bonnie would strike back with a vengeance worthy of a great leader. So far, her diplomatic approach had left him uninspired and confused. He hoped and prayed that she would find her way and act when it became necessary. He listened carefully as she continued.

“I have heard the story and understand that mistakes were made on both sides.”

“That’s exactly why we should work this out. There’s no reason things have to get worse than they are,” the Sheriff said.

“I agree. Working together is the key. There is, however, one word that you’re forgetting, Sheriff.”

“What’s that?” the Sheriff asked curiously.

“Justice,” Sister Bonnie said. “I have families here that want justice for what happened to their loved ones.”

The Sheriff’s men moved in closer, feeling on edge. The Sheriff raised his hand up for them to back off. Jordan slipped closer behind the truck, unsure of what was going on.

“I can understand the desire for justice. We’ve got a mother and two children without a father back at New Haven.”

“Your people attacked ours. We can forgive that.”

“Now wait just a minute—” the Sheriff began.

“We want to make an offer that will not only bring our groups together but allow your people to be a part of mankind’s new beginning.”

The Sheriff looked increasingly perplexed.

“I’m not really sure what you’re getting at.”

“I’m asking you to join the Seventh Order. If you swear allegiance and become members, we will look past the assault on our people.”

One of the men in the Sheriff’s group let out a quick laugh in disbelief. Sister Bonnie ignored him and continued.

“We shall become one. New Haven will become a town for us all. With the loyalty and devotion of your people, I will ensure that they survive the apocalypse. All I ask is that you follow me, make me your leader, and accept the Seventh Order as the truth.”

The Sheriff looked at his group, then back to Sister Bonnie. He took off his hat and scratched his head. Jordan didn’t like what he was hearing. He was struck with a strange premonition that their visit had been a mistake.

“We appreciate the offer, but I was hoping we could reach an agreement through trade of goods or something like that,” the Sheriff said.

“Oh, I’m not finished, Sheriff. After your people join the Seventh Order, I would like the individuals responsible for the murders given to us so that we may seek proper punishment.”

The Sheriff looked around in confusion, then squarely to Sister Bonnie. He placed his hat back on his head and his hands on his hips.

“I must say, I find your words a tad counterproductive. I’m going to give you another chance, and understand that there are other people’s lives on the line here.”

As Sister Bonnie thought to herself, the doors to the church opened and people poured out into the camp. Joey’s parents led the march. Sister Bonnie whipped her head around to Walter.