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screamed
former military. The man put his gun in a holster and stepped forward.
    “Hi, I’m Paul Luther. We were just cleaning out
this church. What brings you this way?”
    Like a good televangelist, Billy Joe could assess
a situation quickly and bring the right persona to the table, from humble and
begging for money for the poor to ranting and screaming of the coming of End of
Days. One truck, five people, no permanence to the church location. They were a
smaller group, part of a larger one. He may outnumber them, he may not, but
until he got more details, he was going with honest for this encounter. Or as
honest as he got.
    “We saw the smoke from the highway. We’re looking
for a location to set up our church. When we saw this building, it was like God
spoke to me. Told me, ‘you’re home.’ But we will move on if you have claimed
this place first.”
    Luther shook his head. “No, we were just killing
some skinbags. We have a location further down the road a way.”
    The brown eyes glinted hard as the man kept his
cards close to the chest and gave nothing away. Billy Joe pulled out all the charm
he was capable of. He reached and shook the man’s hand between his two.
    “I’m Reverend Billy Joe Bennett. But you can just
call me Billy Joe. We would love to use this wonderful church, if no one
minds.”
    The man swung his hand and the others moved
forward. “This is my wife, Suz Logan and this is my husband, Josh Logan.”
    His disgust must have shown on his face as
Luther’s face twisted into a calm rage he held in check. Billy held his hands
up in front of him. “Hey, I do not wish to impose my morals onto others, unless
they wish them. But this is why the old world has fallen. We are all in sin.
Some more than others. This new world demands we live the way the Bible has
told us to live.” This group is steeped in sin. This is why the world fell. I
will cleanse them, one way or another.
    “You can keep your morals and your Bible. This new
world is what we make of it,” the man said, hatred glaring in his eyes.
    “This is Seth Ripley and this big guy is Teddy
Ridgewood,” Luther finished up in a harsh tone and spread his arms. “The
building is yours. Nothing left inside, but you might want to repair the fence
to keep out the skinbags.”
    “No need,” Billy said as he smiled. “What others
are calling zombies and other wicked, uninformed names, we believe are the
Resurrected. They will protect us. The Bible has told us so. Did it not say the
dead would rise?”
    Luther shook his head. “Whatever. We are down that
road over there. I’ll tell Commander Jack Canida about your group. I’m sure he
will visit you soon, if that is okay?”
    Billy kept his smile plastered on his face. “We
have nothing to hide. We will count it as a blessing to greet your Commander
Canida and look forward to his visit. Perhaps we can visit your group as well?”
    Luther stood still as a statue, anger radiating
off of him like heat from a furnace. “That will be between you and Jack.”
    As soon as the truck headed down the road and
passed out of sight, Billy turned and yelled to the bus. “Roberta, get your ass
down here, right now.”
    His wife jumped from the vehicle and ran to his
side. Her head bowed as she stood there. He made her wait, the tremors in her
shoulders an erotic sight better than total nudity of her more than forty years,
overweight and sagging body. Walking behind her, he breathed on her neck. Her
body twitched. The beating last night had proved women need discipline. He
should have started sooner. He would be sure to beat her regularly.
    “Go into the building and make sure it is safe for
me to enter. See that it is suitable for our and God’s purposes.”
    “But—,” she stuttered and stopped.
    He leaned closer and bit her neck until he tasted
the salty, coppery blood. A whimper escaped her split lips. “Don’t make me ask
again.”
    She ran, tripping over her feet to the open door.
    He