A crowd made up of mostly white men had gathered at the center of the settlement. Their clothes didn’t all match, but most wore some form of dark or camouflage cargo pants and plain t-shirts. Jon thought that no one in the camp would miss the execution and that the several dozen standing outside likely made up its entire population. They stood in front of a wooden platform with a rope hanging from a plank going across the top of it. If not for the contemporary houses and the way the people were dressed, it would have looked like something out of a Western movie.
As they got closer, people in the crowd started to turn. Some tapped the person next to them and pointed at Jon.
The whole scene gave the camp more of a cult feel than anything. What had Judah done to these people to make them be this way? What sorts of promises had he made? What was his vision? Jon wouldn’t find out, but he feared for Hope’s Dawn more than ever now. He only hoped his sacrifice would be worth it.
As Jon inched ever closer to the platform where he would experience a public death, a chorus of boos festered in the crowd. Despite the disapproval, Jon kept his head up. His legs had gained some more strength, too, allowing him to walk with a more normal gait.
The anger in the people’s faces surprised Jon. Many bared their teeth. He saw flared nostrils and moist foreheads. There was so much hatred being directed toward him. The way these strangers looked at him was the same way he’d imagined himself staring down zombies as he'd plowed through them in the barren world. He hated them, yet didn’t know them. Was this really any different?
Members of the mob began to throw things at him. The two men leading Jon stepped away, not wanting to get pelted. The crowd cursed him as they hit him with rotted vegetables and all sorts of plastic things. Some even through mud.
A few people who had nothing to throw punched him on the arm or slapped him across the back as he passed. Jon felt the pain, but he gritted his teeth to push it aside. As he’d promised himself, he kept his head up.
As he approached the platform, Judah stepped up onto it from the back, and the crowd turned their attention to him, letting out a roar. He put his arms out to the side and then bowed like he was some sort of saint. To these people, he was. To Jon, he was nothing but a monster… and a worse one than any of the undead creatures walking the earth.
When Jon got to the steps of the platform, the two men who’d come and gotten him met him and helped him up the stairs. Though, what they did almost caused more harm than good, as they nearly made him trip and fall on the top stair. With his back turned to the crowd, Jon stood atop the platform as the cheers for Judah turned into more boos for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Judah looking at him and smiling. He looked over at him, and the leader gestured for him to join him where he stood.
The smile grew on Judah’s face as Jon lumbered over.
“Why the sad face?” Judah asked. “It’ll all be over soon.”
Jon didn’t acknowledge him. He simply stood under the noose and then turned to face the crowd. The two helpers came up onto the stage behind Jon, and one of them fashioned the rope around his neck. He felt no tug from it, knowing that would come soon enough when the door beneath his feet opened up.
Judah stepped out to the edge of the stage and put his hands up in a gesture meant to encourage the crowd to be quiet. He basked in the silence before opening his speech.
“Today, my friends, is a glorious day, for we will give justice to our fallen brethren. Those who died innocently at the hands of this monster who stands before you.”
The crowd booed again at the acknowledgment of Jon. But it took everything for Jon not to kick the bastard off of the stage. Those men Jon had killed hadn’t died innocently. The first had attacked Brooke and Terrence, and the others had been sneaking around Jon’s cabin. They’d deserved to die.
“But no longer will the dangers of the Savage threaten our community,” Judah continued. “No longer will he threaten our cause. Threaten our hopes of a better world for all of us. Today, we will put this animal down, and we will watch him draw his last breath as he hangs from this rope.”
The crowd roared as Judah faced Jon. He stopped to within a couple of feet of him as he glared at him and smiled. Looking down, he next reached into the pocket of the coat he wore and pulled out a rectangular piece of paper. Holding it between his index and middle fingers, he flipped it around.
Jon’s eyes went wide, and he swallowed as he stared at the picture of his family that had been in the chest at his cabin. His goal this entire time had been to show no emotion. No sense of anger or sadness. But seeing the photo broke him.
“You son of a bitch! You fucking bastard!”
“Oh,” Judah said, his smile growing. “So, you do have feelings. I was beginning to wonder. But that’s why I saved this trick for last. I hope you don’t mind. Besides, it will act as a gentle reminder of how you all
