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Dead Men Walking
Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,876 Views)
DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Hank turned to Antonio, along with everyone else. He opened his mouth to respond, but found only air came out. Antonio’s suspicion was so totally unexpected, he didn’t even know what to say. A cult? What does that even…

He took a moment to recover and find his voice. He glanced from Riley’s concerned look back to Antonio.

“What do you… What do you mean?” he asked. “I mean, I know what a cult is, but… what do you mean?
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Is that so?
Antonio cleared his throat. It was all on the table now, so he might as well lay it all out.

"I mean like a cult." He explained bluntly. "Take Gregory, for example. He was straining himself to use vocabulary that he was not familiar with and some of his lines sounded rehearsed when he spoke them. This made me believe this conversion process was very recent for him. He also mentioned a process of actively spreading the word and religious hierarchy terminology that sounds like someone trying to imitate Catholicism perhaps a little too hard."

"So what?" Willow questioned him. "That doesn't really rule out the possibility that they could just be born again Christians. And even if they are a cult, does that necessarily make them bad people?"

It was a point that Antonio was prepared for. The downside was that, in actuality, he couldn't say with any sort of certainty that he was right. Most of his concern was just based off his own personal experience with this sort of thing. There was no smoking gun to confirm his suspicions without a shadow of a doubt, and that was something that was difficult to convince people of.

"Well based off the tattoos and muscles and their remarkable familiarity with weapons, the men we met were likely ex-convicts turned convert. And it was clear that they truly believe in whatever they have been told by their 'leader' -- a topic that Gregory was hesitant to talk about. I admit that I cannot actually confirm that they are a cult and it is purely an educated guess on my behalf. But..."

Antonio lifted up his left arm and rolled down the sleeve of his sweater -- from the wrist down, there were a few tattoos not unlike the ones Gregory wore on his arms.

"Nobody knows the ex-convict turned convert process more than I do. And this whole thing smells off to me."
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Hank listened to Antonio’s reasoning, but he had the same question that Willow had, and Antonio’s answer left him unconvinced.

“You say ‘trying to imitate,’” Hank said after a second spent gathering his thoughts. “But people are religious in different ways. I don’t see… I mean, how ‘is trying to imitate’ any different than ‘being.’ What are they doing differently than you would do?”

“And what do you mean, you know the convict turned convert process?” Riley jumped in.
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Is that so?
Antonio's frown continued. This was the type of response that he had expected. Nevertheless, he turned his attention to Hank first to address his concern.

"All I can say is that if I were preparing a railroad, my priority would be helping people, not spreading my message. But other than what I have already said, I don't have any evidence. It is merely the feeling that I get from talking to them. I cannot say whether they are dangerous or not, but I have never been one to trust a cult."

"There is an irony in that."

Antonio ignored Willow's snarky comment and he instead turned to Riley. This was another question he was expecting.

"I joined a gang in an attempt to help my father, who was struggling financially. I tried to join the Bloods, to be more exact. It was not a long stay, but it was long enough to get me in trouble and land me in prison." He explained to her earnestly. "Turning your life around after something like that is difficult. Though, admittedly, the dead were not trying to eat my flesh at the time, so the situation is a bit different."

* * * * *

"So, is it a living thing?" Nolan picked up his game with Connor while they drove.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
“So by your own admission, you’re the same as them, or what you imagine them to be,” Riley said, after Antonio was done his story. “Should we be trusting you?”

“The railroad is helping people, Father,” Hank added. “Bringing sheep back to the flock – you said yourself that was a noble goal. And it worked. It brought us here.”

“Cult, not a cult, whatever,” Eli jumped in. “The word doesn’t matter. The point is they’re strange as hell. The way they call each other ‘brother,’ the way they talk, the way they look. What more do you need?”

He was on the same side as Antonio – and was surprised to find that was the case – but for slightly different reasons. What didn't surprise him is the tale of the priest's background, which he had hinted at pretty heavily over the course of their time together.

“More than that,” Hank answered.

Eli shook his head – more to himself than to Hank. “Your call, ’mano,” he said. “As for us, we’re gonna spend exactly the amount of time we need to with these creeps, an’ not a second longer.”

Hank considered that, then turned to survey the other members of his group – Brandon and Emily, mostly. Eli didn’t know why he cared about their opinion.

“What do you guys think?” he asked.

* * *

“They were killing rotters,” Connor said, once everyone had filed back into the truck.

“I know,” Annie said.

“I could have helped,” Connor repeated his complaint from earlier in the day.

“I know,” Annie repeated herself also.

“Didn’t you bring me here so I could learn this stuff?” he asked.

“Yes,” Annie admitted.

“Then you should let me help,” Connor said. “’Cause if not, why don’t we just go home?”


It was a question Annie didn’t have a satisfying answer to then or now, even after more than 10 minutes of thinking. There were just the practical reasons – that Flint was far away now, that it would be prohibitively dangerous to go back there on their own, and the group still relied on her medical skills. Unfortunately, none of that had to do with Connor.

She was too busy thinking about that – and about the other urgent group matters, having to do with Eli and his crisis of leadership – to think much about these new people they encountered. Jimmy said they were strange, and Annie agreed, but she could only concern herself with so much. Weighing her mind down with doubts about Greg and his friends might just make it too heavy to carry. She didn’t want to test that theory.

When Nolan offered to continue the game, she was grateful for the distraction.

“Uh, yeah,” Connor said after a moment of thinking. “Yeah, it’s definitely alive.”
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Strompy
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"We're going to Salt Lake City. Weird religious people are hardly a surprise there, especially since we seem to be in the middle of the apocalypse. Let's look at what we've got. They talk strangely." Brandon said, and on his first point pointed to Antonio as an example.

"They're ex-cons. So what? Aside from Ricky Gervais probably being dead the only good thing about this is that everyone gets a second chance. They're super religious and seem to think really highly of their leader? Maybe he's doing an awesome job and giving them hope. Who has never admired somebody before? They're being secretive. We haven't been hugely forthcoming either. They can fight. So can we, we've been kicking ass half-way across the USA. These guys have probably been doing this for over a month now, I'd be more suspicious if they weren't packing." Brandon said.

"Now that you mention it, let's take a look at the Kelly family. Not many weapons. Seem pretty harmless. What's up with that? Inbred cannibals is my guess." Emily joked.

Brandon smiled but also gave her a look that pleaded with her to be serious.

"I don't know. I really don't like the idea of a community of Jesus freaks. Haven't had a great history with them. That was before all this too." she said rubbing the back of her neck.

"I'm not suggesting we go into this with our eyes closed I just think this speculation is pretty wild and based on some really slim clues. We haven't even seen the place." Brandon continued.

"If their leader is some Jesus looking hippy motherfucker with ten wives, or if anyone calls me sister or child I am getting the fuck out. That is too much." Emily declared.

"Can't argue with that." Brandon concurred.
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Is that so?
"I suppose not." Antonio sighed in defeat and looked to Brandon and Emily. "Let us just hope they are the kind that will let you leave after you show up."

Willow was surprised. Antonio had been the type of person to give other people a chance for as long as he had been here. People may have been assholes, but he always tried to see the best in them. It was something that she, in a way, admired -- even if she thought it was a little silly at times. But now he was being pretty adamant about not involving themselves with this community now. And she wasn't sure if Antonio was the one speaking or if it was his Catholicism; it didn't take a rocket scientist to know their position on cults after all.

"They seem pretty chill, though." Willow shrugged from her vantage point on the ground nearby. "I mean, I don't completely trust them, but I don't think they're gonna go all bloodthirsty on us just like that, you know?"

No sooner had she finished speaking than did she feel a gurgling in her stomach and a sharp pressure in her abdomen. Willow grimaced slightly, then placed her hand gently over her gut, rose to her feet, and made her way over to the restroom.

* * * * *

That was three questions, right? Yeah, I think so.

"Is it a mammal?" Nolan finally followed up with after a few moments.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Connor thought about it for a second – it seemed like he had to think about all his answers for this one.

“Yes,” he said, once he had thought it through.

* * *

Hank supressed a laugh at Emily’s joke, and was relieved when Antonio essentially conceded. Brandon was right, he had precious little evidence to support his worry. Hank respected him, but he wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to return his family to safety based on Antonio’s stray feelings alone.

He might as well gauge the rest of the room, though, so he turned to Andy next.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I’m with you,” Andy responded. “You know that.”

Hank did know that. Finally, he looked to Riley.

“Me too,” she said.

Hank smiled and looked forward again, at the rear of Greg’s sedan. It was decided.

Salt Lake City, here we come.

* * *

The journey from Evanston to Salt Lake City lasted just over a couple hours, and took the group from Wyoming back into Utah, through many smaller towns in Summit County. Staying behind Greg, they didn’t run into any problems. It was smooth sailing along the interstate, even at the tail end of it, as the twisting road funnelled them between two tall grassy mountains.

To Eli, it was the perfect place for a trap. He had his rifle ready the whole time, and warned the others in both cars to be similarly prepared.

When the convoy emerged into the expanse of the city proper, he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t relax entirely, but found himself easing up a little on the grip of his gun.

Gregory kept leading them down the interstate, where the only rotters were dead ones. Soon, they were in the heart of the city, driving over the group’s precious train tracks, which had been walled off – not there were many rotters around to disturb them. Earlier, Greg had assured the group the city was safe by briefly explaining how they set up several key distraction points. They had the manpower, the resources, and the early foresight to create light shows and sources of loud noises that consistently drew the rotters away from their operations, herding them into pens where they could be safely killed – or “saved,” as Greg called it – or, more often, drawn away.

Eli wondered if it was a coordinated effort like that – either in Salt Lake City or somewhere else – that sent them the horde they had to wait out back at the ranch. He figured he’d never know.

Eventually, Greg took an exit and Hank and Jimmy followed. After taking a right past a furniture store in a warehouse, they found themselves facing a high wall – like the ones at Flint or Green River, except higher, and with corrugated steel for a façade. One look and Eli realized he wouldn’t have been able to scale it.

This must have been it – the “hub” or “gateway” that Greg spoke of. From here, his group must have been organizing and dispatching trains, spreading their message across the country. It made sense. Looking back, Eli thought about how all the 'Alive in Salt Lake City' billboards were painted near train lines. According to Greg, they would have liked to have even more, but the bombings had done a lot to hinder their efforts. It was fortunate that the government spared Salt Lake City.

The RV came to a stop when Greg did, and a look in the rear view confirmed Jimmy’s truck had stopped behind them.

Ahead of Greg was a break in the wall with a large gate, with metal bars running down it vertically, and sharpened spikes at the top, which uncomfortably reminded Eli of a prison. On either side of it were simple steel platforms, the kind used on construction sites. They were unoccupied as of now, but Eli could imagine how they could be used as watchtowers or defensive positions.

Greg got out of his car and turned to give them a wave. Eli took it to mean ‘wait here.’ He was nervous to find out what they were waiting for.

“Well,” Hank said, looking and sounding less nervous. “Looks like we’re here.”
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Nolan fidgeted uncomfortably in the truck.

The rest of the trip had gone by somewhat slowly, but he took solace in that he had managed to figure out what Connor had picked. It had taken him 13 questions, but he pinned it down; werewolf. Nolan was pretty proud of himself too, werewolf was a creative pick. He almost overlooked it because it wasn't technically 'real'. That just meant he would need to think of something more original than 'the sun' for round 3. Of course, that could wait until after they got their business sorted out here.

"That's a pretty big wall." Kelsey observed.

"Yeah, it is." Nolan agreed with her. "Is it bigger than the ones they had at Flint?"

"Like, a lot bigger. And the walls at Flint were cheaper too." She observed. "Dad almost broke one down with a really big piece of wood once."

Wait, dad did what?

* * * * *

Willow uncomfortably pulled herself back to her feet as the truck came to a rolling stop at the gates, gingerly holding a hand over her aching abdomen as she did.

I wish we could get this over with so I can just talk to Annie for a minute or two.

It only took one look through the front windshield to establish that these guys were definitely better off than Flint. Their walls looked less like a low-quality jerry rig and more like an actual prison. Which, ironically, was probably the safest place to be. Hard to get out, hard to get in. Theoretically, at least. It didn't make the place any less intimidating though; Willow unconsciously felt herself tense up at the sight.

"If I were a bandit, I don't think I'd try my luck storming these gates without a hell of a plan."
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Brandon let out an impressed whistled at the sight of the place. On top of what else they'd seen it was a feat of coordination. Whoever was running the show knew what they were doing. It reminded him of other preppers. He wouldn't be surprised if preppers were at the core of the community.

"I really really hope these guys are on the level. If so, this place gives me hope. If not, this scares the fucking shit out of me." he commented.
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DoctorYerishi
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Eli didn’t add a comment of his own, he just stared ahead, trying to keep control over the tension building within himself.

Ahead of him, Greg raised his hand – curiously, displaying the back of it, and not the palm.

“Do you love the Lord your God with all your heart?” an unseen voice asked from the other side of the bars.

“And with all my soul, and with all my might,” Gregory answered.

A few moments passed in silence, then the gate started sliding open mechanically. Greg turned back to the RV again and flashed them all his smile. He stepped out of the way and waved Hank through.

Hesitantly, it seemed, Hank pressed his foot lightly to the gas and rolled on in. Eli kept a careful eye out, scanning in all directions. When they were through the gate, he saw the guards – five of them, all with submachine guns like Patrick and his men at the train yard in Evanston. Also like Patrick, they were young men with dangerous auras.

One of them gestured for Hank to stop when he was safely inside. He gestured for Jimmy to do the same when his truck pulled up alongside them.

Eli looked back when he heard the cranking of metal, and saw the gate sliding back the other way. The sight amplified his nerves. They were about to be trapped inside this place. If things were about to get bad, they were about to get really bad.

He turned again when Greg walked between their two vehicles, approaching the armed guards.

“Welcome back, brother,” the leader of the guards greeted.

“Thank you, brother,” Greg answered. “It’s been a trying couple of days out there.”

More men were arriving on the scene, all armed, but none of them holding their weapons. Eli would have been freaking out, but they didn’t look concerned or malicious – just curious. He kept his rifle on his lap, just in case.

“And who have you brought back with you?”

Eli turned his attention to another of the guards, as he picked up a radio transceiver from his belt.

“Brothers, they have guns!” the guard with the radio said urgently, raising his at the windshield.

The rest of the guards followed suit. Eli’s breath caught in his throat. What the fuck? Who they got watching us? He raised his own weapon and aimed it at the first guy to draw. He was going to be the first to go.

“Hold on, wait, wait!” Gregory physically stepped in between the guards and the RV, putting himself in the line of fire. “It’s okay! They’re my guests!”

“Guests aren’t allowed weapons within these walls!” the lead guard said back. “You know the rules!”

“I do – I mean, I know, I know,” Greg said quickly. “But they saved my life. And they helped our men in Evanston. I promise you, they are not a threat.”

Eli got low in his seat, making himself as small a target as possible. His eyes shifted around for the spotter that must have seen through their window. He thought he saw a form on the roof of a nearby building.

“Willow,” he whispered fiercely. He gestured with his eyes to the building. “If this goes any more wrong…”

He hoped he didn’t have to finish that thought. Even more than he hoped it didn’t go wrong.
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"Understood." Willow acknowledged Eli's request.

The discomfort she was feeling faded into the back of her mind. There was a new, and very real, threat facing them now. A lot of men with guns. She gripped her Ruger tightly, but tried not to make any aggressive movement with it. She was hoping that it wouldn't evolve into a gunfight, but if it did, she would be ready for it.

"Why does it always come to this?" She growled in irritation while ducking lower to the ground.

* * * * *

Shit!

As soon as guns were raised, Nolan grabbed Kels by the top of her head and pushed her downward while ducking down himself at the same time. But after a few awkward moments, the gunfire didn't come ringing out.
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DoctorYerishi
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“Put down the guns!” the lead guard shouted over Gregory’s shoulder.

“Guys,” Hank implored, looking around, panic rising on his face.

“You first!” Eli shot back.

“Brothers, please,” Gregory said. “There is no need for this to escalate. This is my doing. I didn’t realize…”

“Gentleman!” yet another voice cut through the chaos. This one was unusual. This one was female. “Brother Gregory is quite right, this conduct is unbecoming.”

“Mother…” the lead gunmen turned from Eli to the source of the voice.

Eli glanced over as well, and saw her approaching, flanked by two more young bodyguards. She was a mature women with a dignified gait, dressed in contemporary clothing, with a fleece jacket over her blouse. Her hair was long and brown, like her eyes.

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares,” the lady spoke – or rather, recited.

The lead guard seemed chastised by that. Gregory seemed relieved. Eli didn’t know what to think.

“Lower your weapons,” she instructed calmly.

“Thank you, Mother,” Gregory said.

“It’s quite alright, child,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “Now what have we here?”

She turned to the RV, and gave the same smile to Eli and the others. Eli kept his gun where it was, as Gregory explained – more calmly this time – the same things he tried explaining to the guards. How they rescued him, how he brought them to Evanston, how they helped out there, and why he had brought them here – how some of them wanted to join their community, and the rest were simply looking for some help on their way out west.

This ‘Mother’, whoever she was, listened patiently, glancing over at the RV and Jimmy’s truck as Gregory spoke.

When he was done, she gave him a pat on the shoulder, then walked towards the RV’s door.

“Mother,” one of the lead guards said and reached out, putting a hand on her arm.

One of her bodyguards – a young man, a really young man, perhaps in his late teens, with floppy blonde hair and delicate features – swatted his arm away suddenly. Eli took notice of the intense stare he gave the guard that tried to stop her. He also noticed how the guard took a step away, looking properly rebuked.

The women continued on, sparing only a cursory glance back, before arriving at the door. She walked up the steps, looked at Eli and Willow – both holding guns – then looked away.

“I must apologize,” she said to everyone assembled. “Our people aren’t usually so testy. We were attacked earlier this week outside the gates by some living souls who had lost their way. They took hostages and tried to violently barter their way through our gates. Some have been on edge in the days since. Please don’t hold it against us.”

She extended a hand.

“My name is Leonora,” she introduced herself. “It is nice to meet you. Any friend of Brother Gregory is a friend of ours.”

Eli didn’t take his hands off his weapon. Hank, meanwhile, hesitated. He must have been really worried a few seconds ago.
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Willow reacted quickly to the situation in front of her; she lowered the rifle and accepted Leonora's handshake.

"It is nice to meet you." She greeted her and made a genuine attempt to impersonate her graceful manner of speech. "My name is Willow."

Though Antonio's face was passive, he was frowning underneath. He didn't think his cult argument really needed to be made anymore -- these people had pretty much just proven it. Their single minded devotion to this 'mother' character was not only blasphemy, but incredibly creepy. Antonio would have rather been surrounded by the fallen than he would these guys right now. At least the fallen could be counted on to act predictably.

Though Eli has never been one for predictability either, so there is that too.

"You'll have to forgive Eli." Willow continued to explain. "The time living outside has made him a little guarded."
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"Mother now? They're going to burn us inside a huge wicker statue, these people are fucking crazy. Let's just say 'you're welcome' and leave, like right now. I'll walk to California if Hank and the others want to stay, I don't give a shit." Emily whispered.

"Just calm the hell down. We'll go, okay? None of ours were ever going to stay." Brandon whispered back as he shouldered his carbine.

Leonora entered the RV and introduced herself. She seemed pleasent but that didn't exactly put anybody at ease. Their perculiar manner was concerning. The whole situation was undeniably creepy. The armed guards were somehow less offputting then this woman to Brandon. Still he put on a friendly face and joined his fiancée.

"Leonora. I'm Brandon. We've seen our share of trouble too. These guns keep us alive. It's not a small thing to give them up. We don't want to start any trouble, but giving up these guns is like you leaving your gate open. We'll leave if that's a problem, most of us are only stopping here out of curiosity while we're heading to California anyway." Brandon explained, offering his own hand too.

He could stand having guns pointed at him the whole time they were here if that's what it took to hold onto their own, after being fired at so many times that hardly rattled him. At the very least they could shoot back then. Without their weapons though they'd be completely powerless to even hurt them back if their hosts proved less than benevolent.
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