Week 30: St. Matthews, Desecrated

The plan went horribly wrong.

The fire got out of control. Everyone ran around in complete chaos. There was no direction and they panicked. I know people died trying to fight the fire. A lot.

I mean if you have a fortress like this you have to have a plan for fires. It is just common sense. They couldn’t contain it because they weren’t prepared. I can only hope the body count included Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum and the rest of his stooge guards.

Unfortunately I know that the leader survived. He came upon us as we were leaving the supply houses with our stuff. He was a tall man with short blonde hair and wearing a priest’s outfit. We were armed and he was not, so he turned around and ran.

We had made it out of the complex and back to the jeep before we saw the leader again. He stood on the top of the wall and looked down on us. Silhouetted by the glowing inferno of the grocery store he began shouting at us, shouting with a thick southern accent and the measured cadence of a Baptist preacher.

“Ya’ll will burn… Burn in the fire… The fiery pits of hell... I assure you that... I’ll see to it personally... If it is the last thing I do… The last thing before I meet… those pearly white gates.”

He continued his sermon as more silhouettes joined him on the wall. Shots were fired but we didn’t stick around long enough for them to find their mark.

…

The more I think about it the less I feel bad about the whole thing. I mean, they are the ones who started this whole thing. They stole our supplies and left us for dead. On top of it they turned my son away without a second thought of what he would do on his own or what might happen to him.

Maybe it is all just the leader’s fault but those other people aren’t completely innocent. They chose to follow him and let him make the decisions, all because he makes life easier for them with his so-called ward. The rest of us have to contend with the zombies, why shouldn’t they?

The person I really feel bad for is Brad. He was so eager to help us out, to prove himself to us. He volunteered to start the fire.

I have tried to assure him that it wasn’t his fault. I even tried to take the blame for allowing him to do it. It was my plan after all.

It’s no use, however. He has been sulking around ever since. I’m sure he had friends there and I know he must be worried about what happened to them. Unfortunately there is nothing we can do about that now.



Franz Ferdinand - This Fire

Amazon MP3