'Look over there,' John said to his wife and Jeanne and Desiree. He pointed.
A naked man had been tortured and then nailed alive over the door of his house. The nails had been driven through his hands, his sides, and his feet. He had died horribly.
Those in the small caravan began to see other sights of horror. A teenager hanging from a tree limb; a woman tied to a chain link fence and whipped to death; the pastor of a small church, crucified.
'Now you people can better understand what we're up against,' Sam radioed. 'Look at it and don't forget it. We're dealing with rabid animals, not thinking human beings.'
As they approached the main street of the small town, they began seeing people leave homes to line both sides of the street, to stand silently and sullenly watching the passing group of Christians. None of the people of Satan made any attempt to stop or to interfere in any way with the movement of the caravan. Several of the Devil worshippers gave the Christians obscene gestures; one man urinated in the gutter as they passed. A woman with a huge dildo in one hand lifted it and shouted to Joe Bennett what she was going to do with the object; and where in his anatomy she was going to shove it.
'Not up mine, you ain't,' Joe muttered. 'I bet that'd smart some.'
Father Le Moyne signed the cross in the woman's direction. She gave the priest the middle finger, waving it at him. Father Le Moyne struggled within, resisting the urge to return the gesture. With both hands.
'Forgiveness,' Father Le Moyne muttered. 'Always forgiveness. Remember that God is Love, and vengeance is His alone.'
'Not in this case, Father,' Joe told him. 'Go ahead and shoot her the bird. 1 guarantee you, it'll make you feel a lot better.'
'You're probably right, Joe,' Father Le Moyne admitted. 'It would appease the human side of me. But that is not my function here on earth.'
'Then I'll do it for you.' Joe extended the middle finger of his right hand toward the woman.
The woman, who used to be a member of the Methodist church, Joe recalled, hunched her hips in his direction and shouted curses at him. 'Bitch!' Joe muttered, watching the woman in the side-view mirror.
There was not a shop, store, or business open anywhere in Logandale. It was a dead town, Sam thought. In more ways than one. The caravan pulled to a halt in front of the closed sporting goods shop. Parked directly across the street, the three policemen who had supposedly resigned the Logandale P.D. were in a police car, watching the small procession. The three men got out of the car and began walking across the street toward Sam's pickup.
'You there!' Jim Peters called to Sam. 'Get out of that truck and raise your hands.'
The window down, Sam said, 'What have I done?'
'Just get out of the goddamn truck and keep your fucking mouth shut!' Bob Carson told him.
Sam stepped out of the truck and raised the AK., the weapon on full auto. 'Stop right there,' he told the three men. 'If 1 have to repeat it, you're dead meat in the street. Understand?'
The men halted their advance. They seemed disoriented and unsure of what to do. Carl Medley finally spoke. 'All right, don't shoot.'
'Remove your gunbelts and lay them in the street,' Sam ordered. 'Then step away from them, to your right, and lay down in the street. Belly down and arms and legs spread wide. Do it and don't move.'
The trio belly down on the concrete, Monty gathered up their sidearms and then opened the trunk of the police car, removing two riot guns. The ex-chief put those in his car. HeJooked at Sam.
'Kick in the door of the sporting goods store and you and Noah gather up every gun in there and all the ammunition you find. Divide it out among the cars. Get tarps, survival gear, knives, rope, lanterns and fuel, axes, dehyde food, and anything else you see you think we might need. For we might have to take to the timber before this is all over. Let's move it.'
Monty did not hesitate. There was no doubt in his mind now that this was anything other than pure survival of the best prepared. But he still had doubts as to the need for any killing. That would come home to him later. Monty kicked in the front door of the store, smashed the lock with the butt of his rifle, and with Noah right behind him, entered the shop.
From far up the street, Sam could hear the crowd gathering in strength. They were slowly marching toward the center of town. They were chanting a strange intonation in a language Sam did not understand.
But he knew what it represented.
'Shake it up there!' Sam called. 'John, you and Richard and Byron help out. Move it, we don't have much time.'
The ministers, frightened looks on their pale faces, jumped from their cars and ran into the sporting goods store and started a modern day fire bucket line, passing down cases and crates and bags of supplies.
'Joe!' Sam called. 'Take my truck and get to the church and then the supermarket. Start loading up with food and bottled water. You know what to get. I'll take your car. Nydia, you and Mille go with him in your car. You two stand guard. Take off!'
The ominous chanting of the swelling crowd was growing in volume. Sam checked his AK to see it was still on full auto. 'Looks like I get to open this dance,' he muttered. 'So let's get on with it.'
Sam stepped out into the street. 'One more minute!' he called into the store. He shifted the AK to combat arms and got ready.
'We'll make it!' Noah returned the shout. 'You just give us that minute, Sam.'
The chanting was growing louder, the words hateful and evil in the strange tongue. The first column of marchers swung around the corner. They were less than a block away, shouting the evil.
Sam lifted the muzzle of the AK and burned half a clip in their direction.
