The Bloodless (13 page)

              Once off the main road a grand spectacle jutted up from the flat desolate lands: a gargantuan wall that made the mountains around it seem minuscule. It was unlike any structure any of them had ever seen before and until that very moment had no idea such a thing even existed. The wall looked to be in very good condition, which meant it was either kept up religiously or it was very new. Justice assumed it was a newer thing but for the life of him couldn’t begin to comprehend how something like that could’ve been built without word of it spreading to ever corner of the country. This was the town of Jericho.

              The walls were at least fifty meters tall but their ample thickness wasn’t discernable from the outside. After a long drive down the dirt road they came to a heavy-duty gate that was similar in style to the one that guarded the GoD compound’s employee parking lot. A small shack, a guard’s outpost, was placed just in the middle of the gate, almost like the entrance to a movie studio. It even had steel barriers that went up and down. A man stood in there, a large rifle slung over his back. He looked exactly like a good guard should: mean and intimidating. His furrowed, sloping brow did not exude intelligence, however, but intelligence couldn’t brutally take down trespassers.

              “I thought you said this place was small,” Justice said as Fox turned the truck down the path that led to the gate.

              “I never said it was small, that is just what you inferred.” Fox pulled the truck up to the guard shack and leaned out the window, “Hey there.”

              The guard slid back the window on his shack and looked up at Fox, “Can I help you,” he said in a low drawling voice that had the slightest southern twang to it.

              “I have an appointment to see Mr. Halsted,” Fox said, in a voice that was a touch slower than he normally used.

              “He knows you’re coming?” the guard asked.

              “Yes, he told me to tell you, ‘But the path of the just is as the shining light.’”

              “Very well,” the guard retreated back into his shack and for a moment nothing happened. Fox looked after him curiously but then the gate made a loud clang and began to slowly open. As soon as the truck passed over the threshold the gate slowly shut after it.

              Houses were established mostly on the outside of the commune just inside the walls. These buildings were positively dwarfed by the walls that protected them and the effect was very surreal. They too appeared to be similar in condition as the walls, either well maintained or very new. Even the grounds around the homes were in superior condition compared to those outside the commune. Some homes even showcased personal gardens that were all flourishing.

              It was a steel reinforced oasis among far reaching desolation. All the protection and secrecy was quickly starting to make sense to them and it became even clearer as they neared the center of the commune. A few people donning masks were milling about, walking in and out of shops and visiting with one another but not staying outside for too long. It would seem not all was pristine within the walls of Jericho.

              In the center of the town was a large great hall-like building. The building was constructed with an old 1940’s art deco style, which meant these people didn’t have much but they did have their imaginations still intact. The overall effect was quite ugly, actually. The color choice of bright blue and orange was wildly offensive to unsuspecting eyes and the rounded windows just seemed like a frivolous choice when functionality was the go-to in architecture. There was also a large golden cross perched atop the building, a very rare sight.

              Justice looked out the window in awe at this spectacle; it was something he would never have thought possible in this area, even before The Cloud appeared. It had been a long time since he had seen this much green in one place and it was a very welcome sight. His depression didn’t seem to be as bad when he looked at surviving life, it gave him a little nudge of hope. A nudge that, like everything else in the world, was just fleeting.

              Fox slowed the truck down and found an out of the way spot to park. All three exited the truck and slowly made their way to the ugly building, very much cognizant of the fact all the citizens stared unashamedly at them. Obviously they didn’t get very many visitors, they were almost a spectacle to these people. An iron plaque that hung on the wall next to what appeared to be the entrance of the building read:
 

JERICHO CONGREGATE HALL
:

“We live by faith, not by sight”
 

              Before they could enter the building they were greeted by an elderly man in a long black cloak. He had a wisp of white hair dangling from the top of his head, serene blue eyes, and an inviting smile. Sauntering towards them he held out his hand to Justice who was closest, they shook hands. “Welcome to Jericho,” his voice was raspy but controlled, “it’s not every day we allow outsiders within our walls. You must be Fox,” he shook Fox’s hand but when Crist held out her hand he ignored her. “My name is Abraham Halsted.” He motioned for them to follow him and they walked inside the building.

              Inside the building was set up like an office, dull and monotonous. They walked over the sparse, Berber carpeted floor down a narrow hall. A set of large, ornate double doors appeared at the end of a hallway after a turn and for a moment they moved towards it. Abraham made another turn before they got too near the doors and led them through an open area that had a cluster of cubicles in the center. There were a few people sitting in seats but they didn’t appear to be doing any work.

              Justice looked at them and caught a glimpse of a man whose eyes had great dark circles under them. As soon as their eyes met, the man’s eyes widened in shock, or fear, or some similar emotion, Justice couldn’t quite tell. It also looked as though the man mouthed “Help me” but when Justice looked back at him, the man had returned to staring straight down at his desk. After getting clear of the cubicle room they found themselves in an office that was quite ostentatious.

              It was littered with religious knick-knacks and paraphernalia, most of which were adorned with rubies and other precious gems. The crown molding was covered with gold leaf and old 15th century oil paintings were hung on the walls, in perfectly restored condition. Gold embroidered vestments and a diamond studded papal hat rested lazily on the hooks of a coat rack that appeared to be made of solid gold. It was a very decadent room that was at odds with the man now sitting behind a great oaken desk.

              For a moment nobody spoke, the room was mired in uncomfortable, expectant silence. Finally Abraham cut through it with a jarring, throat clearing noise. “I believe you are here for a particular reason, yes?”

              “Yes, indeed sir,” Fox spoke before the other two could respond, “we are here to have an opportunity to talk with your citizens in the hope that some of them would want to join our fight.”

              “Ah yes,” Abraham said leaning his elbows onto his desk, “your savage war against those creatures that cast forth the plague that is killing all the land it touches,” he gave a supercilious grin, “except ours of course.”

              “Why is that,” Justice interjected before Fox could continue the conversation. “How is your land this fertile?”

              Abraham turned slightly in Justice’s direction and continued to leer with the same grin, “The Lord has blessed us with land to feed His people and keep them from harm. It was He that commanded the first of us to construct the walls that keep the evil at bay. The second coming of the Walls of Jericho.”

              “That doesn’t make sense,” Justice argued. Fox tried to get him to stop. “So your soil is a product of a miracle?”

              “Let me guess,” Abraham said, his grin turning to a scowl, “you’re a science type.”

              “Um, yeah,” Justice said as if anything else was ludicrous, “I’m a scientist.”

              “Then I will not bother explaining to you our faith, because your mind will never be able to comprehend it.”

              Justice took great offense to this statement. With the gift of an extremely high intelligence quotient he had the ability to understand just about anything. But before he was able to retort Fox cut across him. “You are absolutely right sir. Forgive him, intelligence does not excuse anybody from ignorance.”

              “That is quite all right,” Abraham’s grin returned to his face. “You wish to speak with my people?”

              “Yes,” Fox responded, “just for a moment. We do not wish to waste any of your valuable time.” Fox’s words were very carefully selected but he still used that same slower pace he used with the guard.

              “Very well,” he said, rising to his feet, “I will give you fifteen minutes at the end of our service tonight.”

              “That will be all the time we need,” Fox said, inclining his head slightly, “thank you.”

              “My assistant will show you out.” The door behind them opened and a young man stood in the doorway, his skinny dreadlocks tied in a ponytail on top of his head. He couldn’t have been any older than nineteen but his eyes, a doleful brown, had their own stories to tell. “Enoch, please show them to the front entrance. No detours.”

              “Yes sir,” he looked at Justice, “right this way.” Enoch lead them away from the office and the door closed after them. They took the same path back to the front entrance as they had when they came in. When they passed through the room with the cubicle cluster it was empty, completely, as if nothing had been there at all.

              “So, Enoch is it,” Justice said, “You look fairly young. Have you been here long?”

              “Call me Crowder,” he responded as they turned a corner down a hallway that had the ornate doors in the opposite direction to where they were heading, “and I’ve only been here a few months now.”

              “You comin’ to the service?”

              “Everyone is going to be there,” Crowder said.

              “Everyone?” Justice asked.

              “Attendance is compulsory.”

              “So we will see you there,” Justice said. “Do you like working for Mr. Halsted?”

              “Have a good day sir,” Crowder said as he opened up the front door to let them out. Justice smiled and without waiting for an answer walked out of the door, Fox and Crist behind him.

              “What’s next?” Justice asked once they were outside. “Seems we have some time to kill.”

              “We are going to go find a man named Borvo Kennedy,” Fox answered, taking in the land around them.

              “Friend of yours?” Justice asked.

              “One of the recruits I wanted to talk to specifically. He could be incredibly valuable to us.”

              “You know,” Crist said turning towards Justice, “you could be a little nicer to these people. They are being very gracious.”

              “Abby, you know what kind of people they are, right?” Justice said.

              “Of course I do, but that doesn’t mean you need to go around talking down to them like that. Just let them be,” Crist finished. She was always the compassionate one.

              “How do you expect to find anybody good here, Fox?” Justice said ignoring Crist. She rolled her eyes and walked back to the truck.

              “Because there are some people here who are believers, then there are some who just need a safe place to stay. That second group is who we are interested in,” Fox said. They too walked back to the truck and climbed into the cab. “But if we are lucky, we will catch one of the believers.” Fox started the truck and drove off.

              “How is that lucky?” Justice asked as the truck rumbled down the paths near the houses.

              “We need all the help we can get,” Fox said simply. He slowed the truck way down and began scrutinizing the houses as they passed. Unfortunately most of them were similar in build making it hard to discern one from another. After some time Fox stopped the truck in front of a house that had a tire swing hanging from a tree in the front yard.

              “Is this Kennedy?” Justice asked. “Maybe we should wait just in case he’s in the middle of a prayer.”

              Fox turned to Justice, “Most of the people here do not actually follow the beliefs of Abraham Halsted. In fact, a large portion of the residents here are former Armed Forces members, as I mentioned before, most of whom are survivors of Operation Prime Assault.”

              Justice’s disposition changed direction like a hairpin turn, “Oh shit,” he mumbled.

              “Exactly,” Fox said, “so you know damn well none of them are believers. Not after what they witnessed. This man, Kennedy, is one of those. I think exercising some tact would be within our best interests here.” Justice nodded solemnly. They exited the vehicle and walked up to the front door. Fox knocked.

              The door opened up and behind it was a small girl who couldn’t have been older than eight. She looked up at them with wide, blue-green eyes. “Adara,” a deep voice came from within the house, “who’s at the door?”

              “I don’t know,” the girl named Adara responded.