Scavengers: August by K.A. Merikan Page A

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