some more enthusiastically than others. Dante, discarded for the moment, collapsed. The missionary fled.
Trevor’s idea of charging held new merit. He and his followers rushed the mob and opened fire, downing four of the enemy instantly.
The newcomer from the ambulance discarded his heavy machine gun and produced a. 357 Magnum revolver. He too closed on the remaining converts.
'And the Lord says, as surely as I live, I sharpen my flashing sword and begin to CARRY OUT JUSTICE!'
He aimed carefully at one of the minions with sickly blotches and blew away its head.
Trevor pointed his M4 at a woman. She looked clean enough, but had that vacant stare and waved a butcher’s knife.
'No, you fool! That one may still repent!'
Trevor held his fire. The ambulance-driving machine-gun-toting fellow holstered his revolver and produced a stun gun. He dodged the sleepwalking woman’s knife, zapped her, and steadied her wobbling body.
'Quickly, friends, move her to the ambulance.'
Stonewall and Dustin obliged while Trevor and Jon raced to Jones.
'Dante, can you hear me?'
Dante-beaten and worn-coughed several times and opened his eyes.
'Do I…do I know you from somewhere?'
– The machine-gun Bible-quoting man went by the name of 'Reverend Johnny'. Despite the moniker, Johnny had attended no seminary, preached to no congregation. Instead, he was a successful New England surgeon before the end of the world.
As with them all, the invasion changed Johnny. He waged a crusade against The Order, chasing their missionaries, learning their ways, and wreaking havoc upon Voggoth’s minions.
Johnny explained what he knew of The Order at a meeting in the Command Center on the morning of October 22 ^ nd, two days after Sheila Evans' kidnapping. Stonewall, Shepherd, Nina, Danny Washburn, and Jon Brewer listened.
'They are an abomination upon this Earth. At first, I believed they were a parasitic life form. But now I suspect we are dealing with organic implants that first control the host’s mind then mutate that person into something new, possibly by re-writing their DNA.'
Jon said, 'You were able to save a girl yesterday but you killed others. Why?'
'There is time before irreversible assimilation. Sometimes a week, sometimes less. It depends on the individual's constitution. Once the blotches appear, that person is too far gone. However, before that point using one of The Order's own chemicals-an enzyme-can destroy the infection. It must be the correct enzyme. There are different batches.'
Stonewall asked, 'If I may, what were those gruesome beasts marshaled against us?'
'The Order uses organic technology. All of their facilities and tools are essentially grown. What you saw were biological machines. I call the ones from yesterday ‘Spider Sentries’. The Order’s clergy can deploy them hastily, as you discovered. They have many such demons. Many more horrid and more powerful. Fortunately, The Order does not have a strong presence in this area yet; just missionaries.'
Jon worried, 'Our weapons didn’t do much against them.'
'Spider Sentries can absorb damage. Bullets will take them down if you concentrate your assault or utilize fire-based weapons. They don’t like a hot foot, praise the Lord.'
Trevor walked in at a brisk clip saying, 'Reverend, you should join us and stop wasting your time on a lone crusade.'
Reverend Johnny widened his eyes and retorted, 'That depends. What is it you intend? I have no desire to sit quietly and let Hell’s devils defile God’s green Earth.'
'What do I intend? I intend to kill every creature that does not belong on my world. I will hang their rotting carcasses from signposts as a warning to others that this planet belongs to humanity. I am all out of mercy today.'
Johnny cheered, 'Praise the Lord.'
Stone squared his eyes on each of his followers one after another. He burned his determination into them. Nina reluctantly-and even surprising to herself-averted her gaze not unlike a pack member bowing to the authoritative stare of the alpha wolf.
'Two good things came out of yesterday’s battle with The Order,' Trevor explained. 'The first, Reverend Johnny has joined us. The second came from Dante Jones.'
Jon asked, 'What did he tell you?'
'Dante was picked up by The Order after he escaped the Red Hands. He tells me there are four camps stretching along the Susquehanna banks northward. They have human slaves shuffling between the camps cutting trees, scavenging food, and the like.'
Shepherd joined the conversation: 'What about Sheila? Did he spot her?'
'No, but he gave me a general idea of where those camps are. Enough to go after her. We will bring her back to her home. I need someone to lead a rescue team.'
'I’ll do it,' Nina spoke as if it a foregone conclusion. 'I figure three others-'
'No.'
The room exploded in silence. Wind brushed across the glass of the windows. Nina’s eyes widened and her mouth hung open.
Trevor’s cold expression did not change but he delighted in her shock. He found some satisfaction in tormenting her; in being cruel to her: punishing her for having the same blackness in her heart that he found in his own.
'What?' She put a stiff finger on the table, 'Listen, I’m the best person you got.'
'No you’re not,' Trevor spat the words at her (at himself?). 'This is a rescue mission. I want her back alive. When we start killing again, I’ll call for you.'
Her lip stiffened. What flickered behind her eyes? Not anger, no longer shock; not even damaged pride. Something else. Had his words hurt? Had those words punctured her armor?
'Jon.'
'Yes, Trevor?'
'Put together a team. Go get her, Jon…I know you can do this. Bring her home.'
– Brewer left later that morning with Dustin McBride, Shep, two men from Stonewall’s troop, and nine Grenadiers. According to Dante Jones, the Red Hands lived in four settlements close to the river north of West Pittston, each with a couple dozen tribesmen plus human slaves.
They drove the first part of the trip then waded into the countryside on foot. Early that evening they caught sight of the first camp nestled in a forest clearing a few hundred yards from the river. The team observed the tribe undetected.
The Red Hands' village included many small dwellings made of stretched animal hides anchored between wooden poles. Two larger buildings-constructed of log beams, thatch, and animal skins-reminded Jon of Indian longhouses and sat near the center of activity.
From a distance, he nearly mistook the Red Hands for storybook versions of the Susquehannock or Seneca tribes that had lived in those parts hundreds of years ago. Closer inspection revealed a nastier race.
Entryways sported trophies of mounted skulls. A fair number of those skulls appeared human. Buckets outside the doorways to the larger buildings contained the blood warriors used to paint rank on their hands.
A rancid smell drifted from a pit in a corner of the village. Using binoculars, Jon saw that the trash there included the gnawed bones of humans who had lost their usefulness.
The useful humans remained locked inside a flimsy open-air pen constructed of wood posts and rope made from vines. Jon counted four ragged people but no sign of Sheila.
He counted eleven warriors armed with daggers and a kind of sword fashioned from branches. Racks of spears and caches of bows waited at various points around the camp.
Several young and old aliens wandered the grounds conversing in a rough alien tongue. Others skinned animals over open flames sending the scent of cooking flesh into the air. Two washed clothes with water from a wooden barrel, three more guarded the village perimeter.
Brewer positioned his fighters around the camp and waited for the right moment, then signaled the snipers.
