The Reaper: No Mercy (30 page)

"Thank you for calling me doctor," she whispered, and Rossi hugged her tighter as he whispered back, "You did better than many surgeons I've worked with in the past. You
are
a doctor now, and don’t you ever forget it!"

*****

"Listen! Each will have their say, but first we need to address something important to your survival." The Reaper gazed out at the assembly before him. All whom could be spared were here. Rodriguez and Andy, Janet and Tom, along with other sub-leaders of this group of survivors. They had finished treating the wounded and had buried the dead. The marauder dead they had buried in a mass grave. The others, their comrades, had been buried in individual graves within the cemetery they had helped liberate. Ceremonies had been performed by a lay minister who happened to be part of Rodriguez's group, and now they were all assembled within one of the larger warehouses to decide many fates. The Reaper's voice rose again.

"Many of you thought to move to Mexico City. This is a bad idea. It's twenty times the size of Paris, and you'll be all winter trying to clear the undead out. This is a strong city that you've already shed blood in, making it yours. There is plenty of food here and much more in the big box stores in Moberly, less than ten miles away. This city is easily defended from both Hell's minions and others that would compromise your safety. I recommend you stay here and build on it. I've talked with Newaygo and there is a natural gas refinery and generating plant not far from here to the north. Within weeks, you can have electricity back, and Newaygo is willing to help with that. Now discuss it and decide." With that, Jason turned away and went back to the notebook he had been given by Kelsey, as arguments erupted around him.

Thirty minutes later, the others had arrived at a decision; they let him know that they would indeed stay in Paris. Too many had died here to make it a safe haven for the those left, and the survivors would respect that. Now they were demanding to know what to do with the prisoners. The Reaper sighed as he closed the notebook again; he had just identified his next destination. Not far from here, only eight miles away. But a festering sore that needed to be treated.

"Hang them all!" one woman shouted, and as others joined in the shout, the Reaper nodded in sympathy. He held up his hands for quiet, and silence descended. What he was about to discuss was a subject he had difficulty with, yet one this new brave world needed to address or they would all descend into savages. He had listened in as Sokowski and the other intelligence-trained Special Forces had conducted initial interviews of both the female captives and those prisoners who had surrendered. Sokowski was present at this meeting, and he now waved him over.

"While fortifying Paris, much of the work will be backbreaking, tedious, and practically endless. You will need to clear fire lanes, run patrols to identify those like we just fought, and others like them. You’ll need to establish safety zones against the zombies and clear enough houses for newly-arriving survivors to occupy and help within your community. Captain Sokowski has been interrogating the prisoners and former captives. They are not finished yet, but the work is moving forward. I'm going to let him speak now." Then the Reaper sat down and turned his cold gaze on those many who stood before him. They needed to think with their heads right now, and not with their hearts. It was difficult, he knew, but the alternative was chaos and anarchy.

*****

Sokowski cleared his throat as he gazed at the hostile faces arrayed before him. To counter that, he scowled and addressed them brutally as he laid the papers he had brought with him on the table’s surface.

"You want to hang every one of them, right?" he barked, and the affirmative response was almost overwhelming. He slammed the palm of his hand onto the table he stood before and demanded again, "And how many of you will pull the ropes and hold them up long enough for these men to die, slowly, while pissing and shitting their pants as their life leaves them, while they thrash at the end of that rope and gasp for mercy? It won't be pretty. It will be the ugliest thing you've ever witnessed ... and done. Show me how many of you are willing to hold that rope tight," he asked.

This time there was silence as the crowd before him absorbed the implications he’d put forth. Slowly, three or four hands rose. One was a woman, the other few men, and Sokowski nodded.

"As the Reaper just mentioned, we've been interrogating the prisoners and questioning the former captives, some of who are in this room right now. I have something to read to you from a prisoner and former captive." Sokowski cleared his throat again as he shuffled his notes, then finding the right one, spoke.

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. My dad and baby sister were just killed and something went wrong in my head. I was scared. I didn't know what to do, other than I did not want to die. They gave me a test, and I did it. I don't know why I did it, only that I did, and for that I can never forgive myself. Not ever. I see my dad's face, my baby sister’s, every time I close my eyes, every time I blink! Kill me now so I can join my family. Maybe God will have some mercy for me." Sokowski cleared his throat again and looked up to see everyone’s eyes resting upon him; the entire warehouse had gone completely silent. He lifted another paper and continued reading.

"Yes, I was raped. I was raped quite a bit. But Darrel? He didn't rape me. Well he did, but it was obvious he didn't want to. He was crying as he lay on top of me and was unable to do it. They forced him on me, so we faked it. I screamed and he called me names, but that was it. The others were satisfied and Darrel left after whispering his name to me. Later, he brought all of us extra food he hid under his clothing, while calling us names again to fool the others. I hope he didn't die, for he was a good man. He brought us food many times after that and never tried to hurt any of us."

Sokowski finished and picked up another note, then viewed his silent audience. Many were crying. Many of the former captives in fact were nodding, along with quite a few of the others present. He set the paper down, and after giving them a moment to absorb what he'd just said, spoke again.

"In the wrong place, at the wrong time. It does not excuse what they did, but not everyone has the fortitude to stand up and be slaughtered like a mindless animal. Some of these men made choices they deeply regret and can never forgive themselves for, and now your choice, here and now, is to decide their fates. Choose wisely, people. You're going to need help rebuilding this community with back-breaking labor. You're going to need security and roving patrols. A very dangerous and often deadly form of survival. I feel some of these can redeem themselves and desperately wish to do so. We will finish our interviews by tomorrow; granted, some are unredeemable. Totally corrupt, but others ... give it some thought and remember one thing ..." Sokowski scowled again as his hand rose to point at the audience before him. "You will be the ones pulling that rope tight. Not me, and not my men. Decide carefully, and by the way … Darrel was one of those who surrendered!" He then gathered up his notes, both those used, and unused. It was obvious from the instant discussion that arose, that they’d gotten the message, loud and clear. He nodded at the Reaper as he stepped away, and he nodded back; together they left the room to give the people time to decide.

*****

After checking on the wounded, the Reaper and Sokowski had taken one of the M-ATVs to the communications hill, as it was being referred to, where they contacted Newaygo.

Newaygo agreed to send a small away team comprised of engineers and experts to get the community started. It would be some time before this group was truly self-supportive, and the away team would only stay for a few weeks, but in this time and place, everybody helped everyone else. It was the new way of things.

Several hours had passed, and it was growing late. Food had been brought in, and the Reaper and Sokowski were discussing the exfil that would take place the day after tomorrow, when the Red and Blue Teams would return to Newaygo along with those critically injured. Now a verdict looked to be forthcoming, and everyone looked up as Rodriguez took the stage.

*****

Rodriguez looked out over the sea of faces and saw them clearly as he organized his thoughts into a coherent message. He smiled tiredly at his Nancy. She had gotten a few hours sleep and was sitting there in the front row. She smiled back at him encouragingly. He saw the new doctor, Rossi, sitting next to her and nodded at him. Rossi nodded back and Rodriguez was relieved. The doctor had agreed to stay behind, to help this small but growing community, and for that he was thankful.

"Attention!" he called out and waited for the room to quiet down before continuing. "After talking with all the group and community leaders, Captain Sokowski and others, including the Reaper, we have made some decisions." He nodded at Sokowski and lifted the notes he had carefully prepared.

"The combined groups of Paris, Missouri will remain in place, developing and strengthening this town against those who would do us harm, including zombies, marauders and the like. We will strive together, working side-by-side to create a viable community, and we will accept any and all willing to enter and work with us for the greater good. Captain Sokowski is still conducting interrogations and interviews, but it appears most if not all of the former captives of the marauders will remain with us." He paused as he looked around nervously. So much responsibility, but the Reaper had said he was the natural choice.

"I will continue as interim leader until spring, then elections can take place once we're on our feet and moving forward. I thank you all for your confidence, and while I'm just a soldier, my heart is in the right place. Of that, you can be assured. Doctor Rossi has agreed to remain here with us and help our community grow. His dual skills as a surgeon and psychiatric therapist will be instrumental in making whole some of our younger members who've experienced severe mental trauma few should have endured. Please welcome Dr. Rossi." Rodriguez let the massive applause erupt, and smiled as Rossi stood with a beet-red face while tentatively waving at those around him. Then Rodriguez held up another paper and started reading.

"Newaygo will help us rebuild. They will be sending a team of specialists to bring the power back online, and will show us how to prepare adequate defenses. It will take a lot of work but we can do it, people!" This last was said emphatically, and the room erupted in cheers.

"The prisoners! A lot of bad blood there, recriminations and also testimonies. We have made some decisions." He waited a moment as the buzz of voices suddenly filled the air. He gestured and the combined group leaders all joined him on the stage. Andy and Jake, Tom, Janet, and Ralph, along with several others all stepped forward to array themselves beside Rodriguez. He nodded his thanks as he continued.

"We will rely on the interrogation skills of Captain Sokowski and his teams from the 9th Special Forces Group to identify those who will never reform, and also those that can, and probably will. They will be referring to the interviews of every one of the former captives to determine which of the men tried to help the captives and either faked or minimized the brutality they were forced to engage in to survive. They will also determine those that engaged willingly in the brutality.

"As the captain separates the marauders into two groups, those that wish to stay may do so, and that includes the wounded. They understand that their survival will be based on their actions, and we'll need all the help we can get. They'll slowly reintegrate within our society through good deeds and actions. Many if not most will be performing the massive amounts of manual labor we will need to make a viable community of Paris. They are being informed of this and already many have chosen to help. They are not slaves, but working partners on probation. This must be understood by all." He cleared his throat and was thankful to see a majority of those before him nodding, not just in acceptance, but in agreement.

"Those deemed incorrigible and unrepentant will be loaded on a bus three days hence. We, your leaders, will accompany them, and they will be taken care of."

"Wait! You can't just let them go! They killed my brother!" one woman screamed, and several near her held her tightly in comfort as she tried to shrug them off. Rodriguez waited until the uproar died down, then turned a cold, death-filled glare upon his audience as he ground out each word.

"I did not say they would be released! Justice will be served." The Reaper would have been proud at the effect it caused.

He let that sink in for a few minutes as he felt his Nancy come up next to him and touch him lightly on the back. Her perfume tipped him off every time, and he was surprised he hadn't seen her coming onto the stage. He drew strength from that one simple gesture, lifted the sheet again and kept reading.

"Should it come to our attention that problems are arising within our community that simple common sense cannot solve, we will deal with them harshly, and with finality. Needless to say, any that cause this kind of trouble will find themselves out of the community within minutes. Draw your own conclusions on what defines trouble. Our survival depends on all working together and using sound judgment. It's as simple as that.

"Now, I am not accepting any questions. I've already talked to most of you, if not all. Let's get some sleep, for tomorrow’s a big day."