Scavengers: August (11 page)

“So I’ve
heard.” Ira looked into the cloudy sky with an unsatisfied
expression on his face. “People like ‘im. They should die,” he said
in a serious voice.

James blinked,
throwing him a look of shock. “Die? Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not
one of them. He just doesn’t know any better!”

“He’s
supporting them,” answered Ira, directing his calm gaze at James.
“Case somethin’ happens, he’d be responsible too.”

“That isn’t how
it works,” sighed James. He almost reached out to caress Ira’s
back, but held back quickly, suddenly remembering they weren’t
alone anymore. “He didn’t officially proclaim his support.”

“Everyone knows
in the streets,” said Ira and as they got closer to the planned
route of the walk, voices and the sound of drums became louder. The
parade must have already begun.

“Maybe if he
gets pushed to make a declaration, it will get easier to chase him
for responsibility.”

Ira went silent
for a moment, but finally put a hand on James’ shoulder. “Don’t
come too close to the march,” he warned. In front of them, they
already saw a crowd gathering along the perpendicular street. Some
voiced their support for the manifestation; others seemed to do
everything in their might to drown the shouts of the former. At the
back of the crowd, Ira and James actually saw a group of lads still
quarrelling, but at least three of them looked ready to join a
fight at any given moment.

“Don’t worry. I
need to see what’s happening there,” said James to his displeased
companion. They had heard the echoing sounds of someone talking
through a speaking tube. Maybe a preacher. It was impossible to
understand though, from the distance. “There is military all
around, anyway,” he said, recognizing that Ira was becoming
increasingly tense.

“Oh I know them
well,” snorted Ira, looking back at him, worry clear in his eyes.
“Keep close to me ‘if ya really wanna be ‘ere.”

“Be where?”
asked James as they started passing onlookers, moving closer to the
manifestation. The walls of the buildings around them were tall and
dark, covering most of the area in an unpleasantly cold shadow.

“Near ‘em!” Ira
exhaled, remaining silent until they reached the crowd, which
filled both sides of the main street in the area. From the look of
it, most of the people gathered here were working class, but they
could also spot people dressed in finer clothing. The rhythmic
sound of drums overshadowed all conversations around them, leaving
James strangely isolated in the crowd. Feeling safe with Ira at his
side, he stood on his toes to look at the grotesque parade of
Johners.

All of them
wore simplistic garments made of rough, charcoal colored cloth with
little tailoring. That was something that James was used to about
the Johners, but suddenly, he noticed something that made him open
his eyes wider. In the middle of the procession, on an elevated
platform was a massive wooden cage full of zombies. His blood went
cold at that sight, and for a brief moment he felt almost
lightheaded. The monsters weren’t nearly loud enough to be heard in
the racket, but their ashen hands reached towards the crowd, hungry
mouths fell open in desperation and James recalled their stench,
making him feel physically sick.

“Ira... Do you
see that!?” he exclaimed in shock.

“Told ya, boy.”
The man shook his head in disbelief, watching a group of shirtless
men walking behind the platform, beating themselves with leather
whips, their backs covered with thick nets of bloodied welts. Ira
stiffened, seeing a female onlooker faint into her male companion’s
arms.

“This is sick!”
James said with disgust, looking at the leader of all the Witnesses
of the Apocalypse - Isaac Bell. The man was tall, bald and stood
proudly on the platform just behind the cage. He was dressed in a
plain vicar’s outfit and held a big, old Bible over his heart.

“The time is
near, brothers and sisters!” he shouted through a tube in an
uplifted, godly tone. “Our Lord God couldn’t stand how corrupt
mankind has become! And this, this!,” the preacher said, pointing
at the cage with fire in his clear eyes, “this is his answer! He
spat his wrath upon us and his message is: ‘Succumb to my
will!’”

“What fucking
will is that!?” said James quietly, clenching his fists, gaze set
on Isaac Bell. He couldn’t believe that the military would allow
this! That the authorities allowed zombies to be paraded into the
city like this!

He immediately
looked around, spotting soldiers dressed in knee-long leather coats
and red caps. They wore intimidating gas masks with a flat front
and layered sides. Their eyes were invisible through smoked
goggles, but the large eye part bared resemblance to insects. Black
lenses made the men seem impersonal and inhuman.

The soldiers
didn’t react to the undead, merely standing motionless in identical
intervals, holding large rifles to their chests with both hands,
stiff and ready for action. James saw one of the higher ranked
officers talking to another official, looking around with frantic
movements, but then something else caught the aristocrat’s
attention. A creamy handkerchief, landed on the zombie cage after a
flowing, romantic dance through the air. When he looked up, bile
rose in his throat at the sight of no one else but lady Juanita
Shelley standing on a lovingly decorated balcony. She was there
with a group of friends, drinking wine from elegant glasses,
laughing and cheering as if this were a happy occasion.

“You may not
understand the Lord’s message, but he spoke to me through a burning
bush deep in the woods! ‘Isaac’, he said, ‘go and lead my flock as
it is time!’.” Isaac Bell’s face was fiery red as he spread his
arms as if to engulf the crowd with their reach. “Brothers and
sisters, it is not us, but these godly beings who have been blessed
by God, for their souls are already by his side!”

“Do you hear
this gibberish!?” spat James with anger, looking back at Ira. He
didn’t want his son to grow up in a place where people like this
had a public say.

“Told ya!”
answered the other man, an angry line obvious on his forehead.
“Ya'd 'ave to be mad to support them!”

James wanted to
answer, but then, all of a sudden, he heard a snap and a sudden
burst of screams from the procession. When he turned his head, he
could see people rushing toward them in panic. He felt as if the
world slowed down as he recognized a growing crack on the side of
the cage. The undead were not out yet, but it became obvious that
it was just a matter of minutes. “Lord save us...!” he uttered.

Ira immediately
pressed him into the wall of the nearest building and stood between
him and the charging crowd. James’ eyes skimmed along the scared
faces passing by at his line of sight. Suddenly, he heard a loud,
pained scream to the left. A cold shiver ran down his back at the
sight only a few feet away. The soldier standing nearest to them
was dying. Three ordinary-looking men had him pinned against the
wall; his body slumped, though still trembling in painful jerks.
James’ heart sank as he realized there was blood trickling on the
man’s coat from the mouthpiece of his mask. What was
happening!?

“Let’s go!”
whispered James, trying to scan the area from behind Ira’s arms. It
wasn’t easy with the crowd passing them in fear. The situation was
becoming increasingly heated, even though other soldiers were
moving in to take control. James realized that now, he could hear
hungry growls and moans of the freed undead and it sent a shiver
down his spine. It meant they must have moved closer!

Ira nodded,
pulling James towards the street they originally came from. The
panicking crowd ran in various directions, slowing them down, it
felt like trying to fight a stormy ocean. The older man tried to
shield his partner from the stampeding flow of people, but it was
futile. James felt oxygen being knocked out of his lungs as someone
thrashed into him, brutally yanking him out of Ira’s arms.

Instantly, he
fought back, delivering an aggressive push with his elbow. He
wouldn’t let someone simply knock him over! After a struggle, he
managed to finally grab Ira’s arm again. He didn’t have a clue
where his lover was leading him, but he chose to trust him anyway.
Ear splitting noise surrounded them from all sides, overwhelming
James’ senses as he couldn’t recognize where they were anymore. He
heard the characteristic roar of the undead, screams of horror and
agony, and he could only imagine that some onlookers must have been
trampled. Had they, themselves come any closer to safety?

Ira pulled him
close, his heart hammering loud enough for James to hear as he
desperately tried to direct them out of the chaos.

“Where are we
going!?” screamed James, trying to understand this horrendous human
mush and get away as fast as possible. He saw a sharp move to his
right and it turned out to be one of the soldiers, splitting one of
the undead in half with his bayonet in a precise move. Hope filled
his heart as he saw how well trained those men must have been. It
made him happy to have such brave fighters on their side. His smile
faltered when he saw a small gun appear right at the soldier’s nape
and before he could voice a warning, the man fell to the ground,
disappearing from sight. It was only then that James finally
understood. There were Johners in the crowd, trying to disturb the
actions of the military and help the zombies cause more havoc.

“Inside this
house!” hissed Ira, forcefully shoving a terrified teenage boy to
the side and pulling James with him. His patience must have
expired, his moves becoming more frantic as he made his way through
the crowd, brutally pushing those smaller than him aside and
avoiding those who were too large to confront. Over his arm, James
saw a military officer brutally arresting Isaac Bell. The preacher
was knocked down with an agonizing scream. If he didn’t know
better, James would have thought the preacher was dying.

Ira hissed
loudly, pulling him towards an iron gate, which led into a
three-story brick building. Once he managed to get through the last
hindrance and reach the metal door, he simply embraced James with
one hand as he rummaged through one of his pockets with the other.
They were constantly shoved into the gate, but with Ira’s large
body shielding him, James didn’t feel much discomfort.

He hesitated
for only a second and clung to Ira closely, helping him shove away
the crowd, so he could finally find whatever he was looking for.
James desperately hoped it was a key and indeed, just a few moments
later, he saw a piece of metal in Ira’s hand. After two sharp
clicks, the rusty lock opened, allowing them in with a loud squeak.
Naturally, Ira didn’t want to let potentially dangerous individuals
inside, so he opened the gate very discreetly, pushing his
companion inside before following him in a swift move.

James almost
fell over as he tumbled into a dusty room and took a quick glance
around. Once he made sure they were alone, he removed his mask with
a sharp pull, took in a long breath and turned to Ira, who was
trying to close the door as quickly as possible. It heaved over and
over but didn’t open thanks to Ira holding the gate with all his
weight. Someone must have seen their escape. Fortunately, the man
managed to turn the key inside the lock at the first attempt. The
person trying to enter, banged their fists on the door and didn’t
give it another try. After a moment of peace, Ira let out a
relieved sigh, his broad back slouching, exhausted.

The room was
moldy and wet, with a barn floor under their feet. A further gate
presumably led to the courtyard, but James focused his attention on
an old wooden staircase that led upstairs. “Bloody hell!” he cried
out, walking up to Ira and grabbing his arm, all tense and
nervous.

“What?!” The
other man immediately turned around, alarmed, his eyes narrowed,
body tense and ready to fight.

“Let’s go
upstairs, so we can see what’s happening in the street!” said James
all agigated himself while stroking Ira’s arm, to calm him down. He
pulled him towards the stairs.

The other man
gave a relieved laugh, shaking his head as he let his hand slide
down his lover’s arm to hold his hand. James stopped halfway up the
stairs. He looked into Ira’s eyes. This one simple, gentle gesture,
which was up until now reserved for his wife, had an instant
soothing effect on his nerves. Taking a firm hold of Ira’s large
hand, he resumed pacing up the creaking stairs.

“Gonna keep you
safe,” Ira whispered with a content expression on his face. With
each squeaking step they both took, the older man’s face lit up
more and more. James could see it well as the low ceiling forced
them to bow down a little.

They walked
into a dusty attic room with a massive round window facing the
street. It must have been used for storage, as there were many
wooden boxes and closed jute bags all around them.

“You have to,
right?” James laughed a bit nervously, giving him a peck on the
cheek. Ira joined him and turned his head to nuzzle the side of his
partner’s face. His touch sent shivers down James’ spine and the
intimacy of Ira’s gestures made him ache with intense emotion. It
was nothing like anything James had felt so far; a longing that
could never be satisfied without the touch of these warm hands and
lips.

“So that you
get that big room, right?” he whispered, slowly wrapping his arms
around Ira’s neck. Embracing the other man in a long, strong hug
made him feel warm inside. Ira's strength and determination to keep
them both safe was truly impressive.

“That’s what
I’m goin’ for!” laughed the other man, slowly sliding his arms
around James and pulling him closer. As their bodies touched, a
spark of lust went through them, powered by the blood still rushing
through their veins at a furious pace after what had happened
moments before.