[Part 1/2]
It has been a day since they stood in the ashes of the girl Stan had carried for so long. The camp seems quiet. Deacon is due for a job today. And he receives one.
The sun sprinkles through the clouds, making the day evenly dim. Around the camp is a savannah. No mountains, no hills, no valleys either. Just a lake. It is hot and humid all day long. The workers return to their tents having turned red and some with cuts in their flesh. They walk over from the repurposed runway to the taxiway, where their tents are all scattered like sprinkles on a donut.
“Deacon,” calls out the mysterious man from outside his tent. “Yes, Father?” Deacon asks with a smile on his face. “It’s noon, and that means, it’s time for the first job. Come meet me by the gate.”
He nods, and Father walks off into the camp, greeting everyone awake. “Breakfast will be served, folks. Just in a limited quantity. If you are pregnant, come meet us at the kitchen. And special requests will only be entertained there.”
“I’ll eat after the job.” Deacon thinks to himself, chugging down a glass of milk.
He puts the glass down and gets off the bed. “Good morning.” He says to Jane and Stan. They all sleep under the same small tent, on beds framed of PVC and mattresses made of webbed nylon.
He steps out to face the armoury. “G’morning.” Says Denny, rolling a loch of hay in his teeth.
He walks over to the armoury and asks, “Hello. Did Father leave anything for me here? I got a job from him. A job outside the walls.”
Denny’s lips go down and his eyebrows lift, as he says, “A ma’er of fact, he left a belt for you. Some damn serious gear. He might be giving you the big job.”
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Slightly puzzled, Deacon takes the belt and finds a pistol strapped to it. He puts it on, and takes a deep breath, focusing on the sound of rattling from the bullets in the pouches.
“’ere you go, take this.” Denny grunts as he struggles to reach over the wooden counter and hand him a strap consisting of holsters. “G’luck.” He says.
Deacon bows his head and walks off towards the gate.
As soon as he arrives, he sees something he didn’t expect. Father out of his robes, covered rather magnificently in blue jeans, ankle-high hiking boots, a patchy grey shirt. He stands next to one of the two bikes parked at the gate, holding an AR.
His bike is painted in a stylish blue, while the chassis is rust-coated steel. The handlebar has hair draped over the rail. All colours, ranging from black, to brown, to blonde.
Meanwhile, Deacon’s assigned bike is a boring grey in colour and has no such decoration. But still, Deacon can’t help but feel excited about this bike. “Finally, some good news.” Deacon wheezes out, standing on his toes.
Father smirks and asks Deacon, “You ready?”
Nervously, he looks over to Father and says, “Let’s go.”
So, they leave.
Stan looks at the makeshift gate as it slowly slides open to let Deacon and Father out.
They ride for about ten minutes, passing at least twenty of the dead. All their skins were ripped, slipping off their muscle, as if it were oil on water. And the muscle has shrunken down so much, the outline of their skeleton is pushed through their pale, cold, bloodstained skins. Some so hungry, they feed on each other’s bodies, while the one being fed on is unfazed.
Soon enough, they reach their destination. A camp. They park their motorbikes and lay them down, covering them in broken branches and other material to make it camouflage with the road.
“These nasty little thieves have been murdering our farmers while they rode back, just so they can have our food. We will make them pay. Look for high ground.” Says Father.
So, Deacon takes his gun and moves to a vantage point near the camp. He can now see all of them. Seven people are scattered around the camp. But they hold serious weapons. AR’s. They look like M4’s. So, not only do they have to make them all pay, but they also have to move without making one eye flinch over to their location.
Soon, Deacon’s radio buzzes. “There is another way. There is a horde coming in. We can’t take the risk of drawing any of them here. If they spot us, we are as good as dead. I say, we lure them into the camp while we are not in it.” Commands Father.