Underworld: Book 1

By Thomas H. Crowne

UnderWorld is a bold and emotionally charged science-fiction thriller designed to grip the reader from beginning to end with its engaging and complex plot. Edwin Wheeler, a brilliantly gifted scientist, is bent on seeking revenge on a world that he feels has taken everything from him. And only one man can stop him. John Massey, Wheelers former pawn and henchman, was a merciless killer for Wheeler in a special unit that answered to no one other than Wheeler. Facing near certain death at the hands of the terrible creatures unleashed on the world, Massey and a small group of resisters are Earths only hope for survival. Filled with vivid character detail, heart-wrenching tales of love, hate, and triumph, UnderWorld is a futuristic story that will take the reader on an epic and unforgettable journey that will show them the best and worst in mankind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493145430

Thomas H. Crowne

Thomas H. Crowne is an avid and lifelong writer and biblical scholar that has written numerous works on a myriad of religious subjects and is currently researching and writing his next biblical work. He enjoys the outdoors, motorsports, action movies, sports aviation, martial arts, Chinese food, Ultimate Fighting Championship, Seagalogy, Stevie Ray Vaughn, thrill-seeking, vigorous debates on religion, politics, abortion, gun control, attractive women, and many other things he cannot mention here. UnderWorld is his first science-fiction novel. He lives in the American South.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Thomas H. Crowne.

Library of Congress Control Number:   PENDING

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-4931-4542-3

             Softcover    978-1-4931-4541-6

             eBook          978-1-4931-4543-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 11/21/2013

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CONTENTS

Prologue

The Beginning

Creation

Chapter 2 Wheeler, the War, and Harriet Walker

Author Biography

Book Summary

PROLOGUE

The creature moved forward with incredible speed, driven by the smell of death in the air. Maria raised her weapon to fire, but it was already too late. With the desperation borne of impending doom, she continued to swing her carbine toward the monster. Had she pivoted clockwise, she would have presented a smaller target.

The sound of her flesh and bone being torn apart was too much for Maria; she only prayed that it would take her quickly.

THE BEGINNING

2047-0700 Hours

Shaft Entrance A

In the vague morning light, nothing stirred. The windswept landscape was nothing more than a shell of what was once called Colonial Earth. Massey continued to survey the city for signs of movement. For years now, Earth had been devoid of nearly all human life, the apocalyptic wake of destruction brought on by the Final Solution, proving to be Earth’s end instead of its savior. Once a planet of nearly nine billion, the monsters had wiped out nearly everyone.

Massey continued to scan the landscape. When he’d been part of the Colonial Marines, he had learned many things, but patience was not one of them. Formerly a member of the Seventh Stryker Brigade, an air mobile unit that was used to destroy hardened targets or small countries, he was nothing short of a heartless killer, the one most people made a point to avoid during even the best of times. The brigade was an elite unit of select individuals; only those who could pass the rigorous and demanding training and selection process would ever be allowed to wear the insignia of the Seventh Stryker Brigade. All said, Massey made no qualms about asserting his authority wherever he thought it was lacking.

Once, Massey had challenged a full colonel to a fistfight over losing a game of cyber ball. Before things could really get out of control, Massey’s squad members pulled him away. Though he didn’t show it, the bird colonel was very grateful that he had been spared a trip to the infirmary; and at fifty-six, he would have been no match for an animal like Massey.

Massey was slightly above average height, over six feet with closely cropped blond hair that he kept to exact military specifications. He had his father’s looks—a chiseled face with piercing dark green eyes that seemed to bore into your very soul. Just by looking into those laserlike eyes, a person would feel as if Massey knew every dark secret he kept locked away. He had sharp, masculine features, the long hours he’d spent in the gym having packed 20 percent of his total body weight in lean, hard muscle onto his rigid frame. Massey had been with the Stryker Brigade for over ten years until he was forced to transfer or else face a court martial and quite possibly a firing squad, the ultimate humiliation for a marine. That’s what the brass had told him. Even the brigade’s top commanders gave him plenty of breathing room lest they crowd him. He would dole out the worst punishment to those he did not see eye to eye with, that being nearly all of the brigade’s 4,679 men of the last, or better yet, capable units in the Colonial Marines.

Damn, he cursed. He should have never let them go alone, them being Victor and Maria Cortez, the first being an old enemy of Massey’s from the brigade, the other being one of Massey’s old flames and short-time lover. He couldn’t complete every mission himself though, and part of being part of a team is showing that each member was capable of doing his or her job without constantly needing to be supervised. Since the number of team members had been drastically reduced, everyone was having to do two or three times as many operations as normally would have been called for. But now, that same ideal may have gotten two people killed. Of which only one of them he actually gave a shit about.

Massey thought back to the time when he had come across the torn remains of a family that had foolishly attempted to escape from the relative safety of the tunnels to the city above ground. Being in the Colonial Marines during several years of war, he’d seen a lot of things, but nothing had quite prepared him for that particular scene of carnage and death. Lifeless forms were strewn about like so many discarded toys, eyes wide, mouths agape; Massey found it hard to believe man was not on top of the food chain anymore. And that display of savagery had been a brutal reminder.

Where in the hell are you two? he asked no one in particular. He silently cursed himself for letting them go. Everyone in his unit was equipped with a standard throat mic communications set, but the equipment was old and had seen extreme use that caused it to be mostly unreliable. But it was all they had. Once, they had been offered some of the newer tactical Spyder communications sets that were standard-issue in the marines before the war. A group of survivors like Massey and the others had propositioned them for the equipment, but the deal had gone extremely bad. They had been ambushed, and several of Massey’s team members had been killed that night.

The supposed deal had gone down in the eastern section of the city under the cover of darkness, this area being controlled by a radical splinter group of inhabitants that had branched off from the original survivors. After the nuclear strikes, they had found an ancient cache of military supplies including everything from weaponry to high-tech communications systems. Massey had sent a courier, a young boy, to respond to the offer with the message explaining that he would be interested in trading some of their supplies in return for some of the newer communications equipment. Every instinct in Massey’s body told him it was a setup, but they didn’t really have much choice; they needed the equipment. Period.

The seller, a fanatically religious man who now called himself Matthew and who believed he was a direct descendant of Christ himself, did not believe in needlessly taking the life of one of his holy, heavenly father’s creatures, let alone several of them; but the ambush had been absolutely necessary to provide for his people, God’s people. Before he had retired for the night late that evening, his servant girl, Mary, brought him his nightly tea of which he drank prior to his prayers to his heavenly father. He had asked to be forgiven, for he was about to commit a great sin. He’d asked God to give him the strength to carry out this vile deed and to protect his people from any harm that may come upon them.

In his own mind, God told Matthew that no deed was too foul and would not be looked upon with an angry eye if it was done to provide for his people and serve his heavenly father. After his prayer, Matthew opened his eyes with a smile. God would see them through. Once the last of his tea was finished, he summoned young Mary back to his room. She would bed with him tonight.

In the pale candlelight of Matthew’s chamber, he could see the young girl in all of her beauty. At eighteen, she was amazingly developed. Her breasts were already the size of ripe melons, and her hips already had the shape of a woman twice her age. Her long golden hair fell to the small of her back, her eyes were the softest green Matthew had ever seen in his life, and he had been with a lot of women in his life. Matthew, on the other hand, was a sight not likely to please most eyes. He was tall and pale and had a dreadfully large beard that seemed to twist itself into knots and was always stained with some substance or another. In the looks department, he would only appeal to the most desperate women.

Matthew craved sex. It was like a drug to him even though his holy book denounced unmarried sex, especially with a minor of which you were supposed to be giving spiritual guidance. He had been enjoying young Mary for several months now, and he was convinced he had fallen in love with her. She had already endured two dangerous abortion procedures so far, and she would undoubtedly undergo several more before he had had his fill with her. But those were tomorrow’s problems; he’d worry about them when the time came. Calling the young woman over to his bed, he rose slowly to meet her. Ah.

Reaching out with his hands, he slowly pulled the girls robe off her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the cold stone floor, exposing her wonderfully young body in all of its nakedness. Using his thumbs and forefinger, he began to gently massage the young woman’s nipples, bringing them to a full erection with practiced ease. Mary, you do know that you are one of God’s most beautiful creatures, don’t you? Matthew asked in a very sensuous tone.

Yes, Matthew, I know God loves me and I am grateful for his love, Mary said in the same sweet voice possessed by most young girls.

Good, I’m glad you know that because God has given us to each other so that we may bask in his holy glory together forever. You do realize that this is a very special honor for you, that you have been chosen directly by God for me, don’t you? he said, his tone deep and filled with lust. The girl meekly replied with a nod her head.

Taking the girl gently by the arms, he slowly guided her to his bed, a filthy mattress that was stuffed full of old hay and any other material that could be spared. The girl did not resist in the least bit, knowing full well what was about to take place. She accepted this life not because she chose it but because it had been chosen for her. Actually, she enjoyed the many things that she and Matthew did together. Her parents knew exactly what their precious daughter was being used for, but since they were fervent believers in Matthew, they made no complaints about it. Not that they could do anything about it even if they wanted to. Besides, Matthew gave them generous compensation for their daughter; and since starvation was rampant, a few scraps of food could go a long way in persuading people to do things they would never do under normal circumstances.

Laying the girl down gently on the mattress, he quickly disrobed and lay down on top of her. He was constantly surprised as to how she stayed so clean and fresh smelling; soap was almost nonexistent, and there was not enough water for everyone to bathe on a regular basis. The pale light from the candles made the girl’s skin glow, making her look like some heaven-sent goddess, her tender body soft and wanting, no crevice of hers unknown to him. She lay expectant, wondering what he would do to her tonight. Matthew gently spread the girl’s legs and held them apart with his elbows while he used his hands to easily spread the girl’s moist lips. The scent of her captivated Matthew, the sensation nearly driving him into a frenzy. Slowly and with the greatest care, he began to lap at her with increasing intensity, the girl’s orifice becoming wetter by the moment. He noticed also that she had not shaved her pubic hair as he had instructed her, and since he was a person still living in biblical times, he thought a woman should not perform any crude alterations to her body as most of the women today. Soon the girl was crying out passionate moans of pleasure, her body rocking back and forth with the sensation that flowed through her. Having practiced on literally hundreds of women in his life, Matthew knew exactly how to please a woman, any woman. Swirling his tongue in a circular motion, at times stopping to suck gently on her moist swollen lips, he quickly brought her to climax.

The girl, gasping, came into his mouth with surprising force, Matthew sucking in the sweet liquid as if it were the gift of life. The girl’s body was completely covered in sweat now. She was lying back on the mattress with her eyes closed, breathing heavily from the orgasm she had just experienced. Wasting no time, Matthew quickly crawled between her slim legs and maneuvered his small member into her waiting vagina. Normally, having a penis shoved into her so abruptly would have caused most women to gasp in pain, but since this one particular part of his body had never gotten past puberty, Mary did not feel the slightest amount of discomfort. Pulling himself up over her, he began to move his hips in a rhythmic motion, starting out slowly; then as his pleasure and the girl’s cries of ecstasy increased, he began ramming his pelvis into hers with increasing savagery.

Soon the bed, which was nothing more than a ragged mattress situated on top of old packing crates that had been here for who knew how long, began to rock with increasing intensity.

The bed was gyrating so roughly now it seemed to Matthew and the girl straddled beneath them that the entire room was rocking with them. Mary, despite not initially feeling much exhilaration due to Matthew’s small penis, was now beginning to bite the inside of her lip because of the amount of power that he was using while driving into her. She could take it; he had done much worse to her, and she had always survived and had never once complained. She knew better than to complain; that would be a death sentence for her no matter how much he liked using her body. Looking up from the rocking bed, she could see a filthy man with an enormous beard and crooked yellow teeth. The smell of his breath was almost unbearable, the stench akin to something that would be found in a trash dumpster. She saw the crazed look in his eyes and knew that he was totally insane. Crying out so loudly she was sure that everyone in the downstairs corridor could hear them, Matthew grunting like a bear, his hot breath colliding with her face, she let out a final climatic scream, it mingling with Matthew’s on moans of passion. Both of their bodies went rigid simultaneously, Matthew collapsing on top of her, his full weight pressing her tightly to the sweat-stained mattress, his face resting directly between her breasts, allowing his hot, rank breath to cascade directly into her face. Even through her pleasure, she felt like vomiting. His breath was that bad.

After he had rested for a few moments, he lifted his head and stared directly into Mary’s eyes and could only smile to himself to think that he was lucky enough to have a creature as beautiful as her. His thinking immediately went to what he was going to do to her next. Lifting himself off her, he slowly pulled himself out of her, causing a small shudder to run through her body. My darling, was that as enjoyable for you as it was for me? he asked, his breathing still heavy from the rough sex.

Of course, Matthew, she lied. I am yours and yours only. My only purpose is to please you.

Yes yes, child, I know, now hurry up and turn around. We haven’t much time before my presence is required concerning other matters, Matthew said in a hurried manner. Mary, knowing what was coming next and that there was nothing she could do about it, quickly complied. Turning her soft body completely around, she positioned her backside so that it faced him, then put her palms down on the mattress to brace herself for what was about to come. The normal sex wasn’t so bad to her, but this was the part she couldn’t stand. Not only that, but it was extremely painful since Matthew did not use any sort of lubrication. They had once tried animal fat, but that had left her inflamed for weeks and even Matthew knew better than to try and force another episode like that on her.

Seeing that she was ready, Matthew quickly moved behind her and readied himself. Taking his index finger and placing it in his mouth, he thoroughly wet it as best as he could, then taking the finger and using his left hand to spread the girl’s cheeks, he slowly inserted the moist finger, sliding it slowly in and out, then lowering his face to her cheeks so he could spit on her anus for extra lubrication, remembering the first time he had entered her anally. He had been in such a hurry because she was so absolutely beautiful and he was in such a frenzy that after he had initially inserted his wet finger into her anus, it completely slipped his mind that he had done so and accidentally put the finger back in his mouth to wet it again. By the time he realized this, it was already too late. That had been a very bad day for Matthew. He was so furious and enraged that Mary had thought he was going to kill her for sure.

Remembering not to make the same mistake again, he quickly straightened himself and moved his hips directly behind her, finally using his right hand to maneuver his smallish member into her soft tomb. Once its head was in the proper position, he slowly eased himself forward, feeling the girl grow slightly tense as he moved deeper into her, slowly at first then moving more rapidly as more easement was granted and the friction less severe. The girl began to grunt softly in rhythm with his strokes, the friction lessening noticeably as her canal expanded from the unnatural intrusion. She closed her eyes tightly and prayed that he would be done soon and that this was not one of the times where it took him upward of an hour to get off. In the event it took him that long, she would be hurting for days, if not weeks.

Matthew gripped the girl’s tender shoulders with both of his large callused hands, gripping her firmly so she would not be able to move away during sex. He could feel himself gliding into her steadily, he could feel the texture of her insides, feel each and every groove inside of her, the warmth of her body radiating up into him. His entering her was making a distinct slapping sound, her moans of passion coming in time with his thrusts. Eventually, a very particular odor began to fill the air, one that every human who had lived long enough had encountered at some point in their lives. He didn’t let it bother him, he never did; he was fucking in the ass the most beautiful woman in his church.

With a great rush, he felt himself cumming, the sensation welling up inside him like a powerful storm that could not be controlled. Finally, when he could not hold it anymore, he released into her, the liquid flowing out of him like a river and into her like a waiting sea. As the orgasmic sensations racked his body, the girl couldn’t have been more glad that it was over. She was already dreadfully sore from last night’s episode that lasted well into the night, both of them not going to sleep until well after the sun had risen. And now here she was, less than twelve hours later and again enduring another ass reaming. She could feel the sticky liquid inside her, it seeping further and further and further into her body, invading places she didn’t even know existed. At least it was over, she thought.

She could feel Matthew lying on top of her, still breathing heavily, and she could feel the sweat running off his body onto hers, could feel his coarse beard rubbing against her back and scratching her skin. Eventually, she felt something warm and soft running up and down her back and quickly realized it was his tongue lapping at her skin as if the man were starving. After a long moment, he finally spoke into her ear. My child, you know you are truly wonderful, don’t you? he asked quietly, his voice still heavily laden with exertion. She merely nodded in return, not wanting to verbally answer knowing that it would only lead to more conversation, of which she didn’t want; she just wanted to leave momentarily so she could apply an ointment to her bleeding orifice.

Knowing that they had stayed longer than they should have, Matthew finally withdrew his tiny cudgel, it making a low sucking sound as it finally popped free, causing Mary to give a tiny yelp. Standing up, he quickly dressed, watching the girl lie down on her stomach and rest, seeing her back rise and fall in rhythm with her breathing, also seeing a small trickle of blood run down onto the mattress. He probably had hurt her, he thought, but had no time to worry about such petty things. She was his—his slave, his and his alone. She was here to please him, and that was all that mattered. If she was hurt, or even killed, while he used her for his pleasure, then so be it. God would understand; every great leader had to sacrifice a few of his people for the benefit of the flock—his flock.

Pulling on his robe as quickly as he could, he called out to her, I have some very important business to take care of, my dear, I will be back later tonight after I have seen to this business. Tell Alosius to get you anything you need and make sure that no one touches you, understood? he said the last part with a murderous gleam in his eyes. Matthew had strictly prohibited anyone in the church from touching her, even her parents.

Several men had been slain already by him for nothing more than accidentally bumping into her. Matthew did not see it that way. To him, that was a sexual advance, and he would not tolerate it. It wasn’t long after these brutal killings that whenever Mary was attempting to go somewhere in the church anyone in her way would part like a sea, everyone giving the young girl several feet of room so as to make absolutely sure that they could not come anywhere near contact with her. Most would not even speak to her, this making her feel like an outcast ravaged by the plague. Now that she had been alienated from everyone else because of Matthew’s bizarre rule, she was literally a form of walking death. Anyone seen touching her or even attempting to would be immediately lynched by bystanders and dragged straight to Matthew to report the incident and to hopefully be rewarded with a few meager scraps of food. As of now, Mary was secretly having an affair with three other men, none of which were aware of her other endeavors because the risk of jealousy or a loose tongue could easily end up with all of them up on the altar platform. Twice she had been impregnated by two of the other men in the last two months. Matthew thought that she had become pregnant by him and had thought nothing of it. One of her lovers was pressuring her for a deeper relationship, but she had done everything in her power to convince him that she could not chance leaving Matthew, not yet anyway.

She attempted time and time again to explain that she did truly love him and that both of their lives were at stake, but he seemed oblivious to her pleadings. He had grown increasingly angrier at her, at times even calling her a whore, a nonbeliever, mercilessly criticizing her, asking how could she possibly love him if she was having sex with another man. Once she had broken down and cried, begging him to give her more time; but he would have none of it, threatening to tell Matthew about the two of them, saying that he did not care what happened to him as long as he did not have to think about her having sex with another man. And the worst part about it was that she actually believed he would do it, even at the cost of his own life. She had to think of something fast because he said he would give her a few weeks to make up her mind or else he would turn her in and they would both be killed. And she had seen Matthew kill several people in the most absolutely horrible ways and she knew he would not hesitate to punish her in the same manner.

The man she was having the affair with was actually one of Matthew’s most trusted assistants, Alosius, who had been with Matthew since the beginning of the church nearly twenty years ago. She loved him very much, but he had this crazy idea of trying to leave the safety of the church and go up the streets and attempt to make it to one of the other warrens they had heard about, hoping that it could, or better yet, would be able to give them refuge from the madman who now ruled over their church like an angry god. She had seriously questioned the feasibility of his plan, especially when she was positive that none of the other populations could be doing much better than the one they were stuck in now. She had even heard stories of cannibalism going on in some parts of the city. To her, it didn’t matter where they went; it would most likely be no different. Same hell, different hole, she thought dryly at the time.

He had told her that he had been saving some items that would allow them to buy their way into one of the other better communities, but he had yet to tell her what exactly these particular items were.

As she lay on the sweaty bed she and Matthew had just made love in, she contemplated all of these things, wondering if she would really be forced to flee with Alosius to keep him from revealing their affair to Matthew. Even though she had not officially made up her mind, she knew deep within her heart this was exactly what she was going to have to do to stay alive. Either way, she was positive she was doomed she might as well die up above in the streets desperately trying to make it to a safe haven with a man that she truly loved than spend the rest of her life or what was left of it with that disgusting pervert doing unspeakable things to her.

At first, she had enjoyed the sex, was fascinated with it; but then he began to beat her, tie her down like an animal, and beat her again, sometimes into an unconscious state with anything he could find. Mostly he would just use his hands. After the beatings began, she started to hate him, a feeling so strong it would almost make her physically ill. Now she just let him use her body until he’d had his fill, then he would allow her to go. Matthew only provided for her in the spiritual aspect, and by having Alosius give her whatever she needed, it was only meant in the context of spiritual guidance, no food or anything that she could use to actually survive. Only kind words of wisdom.

In order for her to have survived as long as she has, she had employed multiple ways to support herself and her remaining family. For one, she had an agreement with one of the men who was responsible for distributing the limited amounts of food to the inhabitants of the church, and that had worked out well so far. The man, a huge beer-bellied giant named Solomon, had agreed to give her what in the underworld would be considered an enormous amount of food—a few ounces of barely spoiled meat of which everyone knew to be rat meat but which was ignored as minor fact, a handful of ancient rice, and maybe a few of the nonpoisonous insects that were considered a delicacy in the underworld.

So far, she had kept none of the food for herself, instead giving it to her older brother so that he could take it to the rest of her family and equally divide it among them. Whenever she was down in Matthew’s lair, she would feast upon the huge quantities of food that he had available to him at all times. Usually when he was not around, she would stuff her robe with as much she could hide safely and turn it over to her brother. Matthew had never admonished her for consuming large amounts of food, but she would be severely beaten if he ever caught her hoarding food, especially for others. If he was in a particularly bad mood, he might even kill her even though he would regret it afterward. Solomon would take her off into a hidden cove in the warrens deep beneath the church, unlimber his enormous penis and hump her for exactly three minutes, and then it would be over. He would go back to his wife, and she would go back to Matthew’s chamber. So far he knew nothing about her affairs, but it wouldn’t be long before she got caught. And she would not be the only one to pay the consequences either. Her entire family would be killed, along with anyone who knew about it but did not inform Matthew of Mary’s infidelity.

Without so much as a second glance, Matthew finished dressing himself and left her alone in the chamber where she silently contemplated her future and what it might hold for her.

*     *     *

Occasionally stopping to listen for telltale signs of danger, Massey would wave the group forward again with a hand signal. So far, they had encountered no opposition aside from the dog-sized sewer rats that roamed the dark city streets scavenging for any form of nourishment. As the group made their way past block after block of the ravaged city, a bloodcurdling scream sounded in the distance, momentarily causing all of them to become instantly more alert. Suddenly the scream was cut off almost as abruptly as it had begun. In the almost total darkness, Massey scanned the members of his group, seeing mounting fear deeply inscribed on their faces. Mutate, he stated simply. Move, he spoke into his throat mic, and they were off again.

By a stroke of luck, the section of the city they were headed to just so happened to contain for Matthew a large government supply bunker, but it had also inhabited the city’s largest population of mutate. Ever since establishing his church here, the creatures had relentlessly picked off his people one by one for years while they expended most of their ammunition in the struggle for dominance against the never-ending hordes of monsters. His followers were on the verge of complete rebellion, food was in an ever-decreasing supply, their clothing was nothing than mere rags held together by hope, and medical supplies were all but nonexistent. They could not afford to trade any of their precious supplies.

Massey’s team consisted of ten members. All but Victor and Maria had no prior military training or service but yet had been trained to high standards by Massey and the others for operations such as this. Of the ten members, only three were female, they being Rebecca Crofton, a former schoolteacher; Elizabeth Sallison, whom nobody knew much about; and Sarah Fisher, a young woman of twenty who could easily hold her own against any man in their group, except for Massey, of course. He was always impressed by her cool, calm nature even in the most intense situations. And she wasn’t a bad looker to boot either, thought Massey on several occasions. As they made their way through the dark city, fires burning the remnants of a demolished building or an abandoned vehicle lit the shadowy streets. Debris was everywhere, ranging in size from small stones to entire slabs of concrete that had been blasted from the side of a nearby structure and strewn around the city. Several members of the group uttered muffled curses from being tripped by an enormous errant piece of rubble. With Massey on point and Victor bringing up the rear, the group silently snaked their way through the firelit city, each building looking enormous in the eerie light, each member silently hoping that they would not run into a group of mutate.

Knowing that they were already behind schedule, they would have to hurry and be off the streets before their luck ran out.

Rounding a corner, Massey’s eyes fell upon their destination—an enormous building that he knew had once been an embassy for a foreign country. He knew the centuries-old building had a vast underground complex of deep bunkers and tunnels that stretched for miles beneath the city in all directions. The large concrete wall that had at one time surrounded the building was mostly in ruins, the years of being attacked by the mutated creatures having nearly decimated the entire city. Several members of the group were breathing heavily from the weight of the supplies that they carried on their backs, and they were glad for the brief respite. While they waited for Massey to initiate the contact signal, they took cover behind a large concrete divider. As they waited, an ear-piercing scream cut through the night, causing everyone in the group except for Massey to jump. The sound, all of them knew, was most likely from an unfortunate person or possibly even a group of them who had foolishly ventured out into the night. As the scream was cut off, the members of the group gave each other nervous glances, each knowing exactly what the situation was and what had most likely happened.

Though the building and surrounding area looked deserted, Massey knew without a doubt that the building was heavily fortified; they were probably being watched by thirty different pairs of eyes. Before beginning with the signal process, he spoke briefly to his group. Remember, this could be a setup, stay alert and be ready for anything that could happen and under no circumstances do anything to provoke them. We get in, we get out. That simple, understand? he said, looking each member in the eyes. All nodded affirmatively.

Taking a chem torch from his vest, Massey triggered the light in a series of flashes that were prearranged, knowing that a mistake in the code would result in a hail of gunfire. The flashes briefly illuminated Massey’s face and the immediate area, casting everything in an eerie yellowish glow. Long moments passed as the group waited for the coded return, the members of the group shifting restlessly. Suddenly, a brief green light shone from an upper story of the building then went dark. Seeing their cue, Massey silently waved the group forward, their boots scuffling lightly as they darted across the street one at a time, each providing covering fire for the other as they crossed the wide street, the process repeating itself until all of them had safely crossed the dangerous void.

The building, which even from the distance of the street they could smell a rotten, fetid odor, had two massive doors that led into its interior. As the last of the group had crossed through a large gap in the huge concrete wall and made their way over the vast courtyard, one of the giant doors opened partially, groaning on its huge hinges as three robed men struggled to open the gargantuan door. Not waiting any longer than absolutely necessary, Massey and his group hastily rushed past the still struggling men.

Seeing that all were indoors, they again began pushing in a mighty effort to close the massive door again. Massey motioned to three of his men—David, Michael, and Andrew—to assist in helping the three men close and seal the huge door. With the combined effort of the six men, the door was slowly pushed shut, after which three huge steel pipes were fitted into brackets that had been embedded into the surface of the stone. The door was a formidable obstacle. Nothing short of high-grade explosives would be able to bring it down.

Once the last pipe was in place, one of the robed men turned to Massey, his face shrouded in darkness from the hood of his robe and asked in a strong, hard voice, What is your business here? The entire entrance they were in was completely dark except for the several small candles giving off a dim light, giving the place the feeling of an ancient tomb. The two other robed men stood behind and to either side of the speaker, Massey instantly recognizing it as a classic defensive position. He smiled inwardly; he could tell they were definitely amateurs, but at least they tried to look and act like they knew what they were doing.

We’re here to see Matthew. We have a business arrangement, Massey said.

That’s Father Matthew, one of the two underlings with the speaker said from the shadows.

Silence! the leader barked with an admonishing wave of his hand. "I’m truly sorry, you will have to excuse and forgive Joshua’s insubordination. It will not happen again, I assure you.

David, please explain to Father Matthew that his guests are here and would like to see him at his earliest convenience, the hooded figure said in the same hard voice.

Yes, Father, as you request, David said reverently and was gone without another word.

Please, gentlemen, and your ladies as well, do make yourselves comfortable in the main hall. You are in luck with the time of your arrival, one of our services is about to begin, but your weapons must remain here. This is a house of worship, the robed man said from the darkness of his hood.

No fucking way, said Michael, the youngest of Massey’s group. The minute we turn over our guns, they’ll take us out! he exclaimed. Another member of the group started to protest as well, but Massey silenced them with a wave of his hand. This was exactly the kind of trouble he was expecting. He knew very well that his men would never allow themselves to be disarmed; he also knew that giving up their weapons would be a deadly mistake. Matthew was by no means trustworthy; he would do absolutely anything to provide for his people. Massey had learned long ago that Matthew was a cruel, pitiless snake. He justified all of his actions, no matter how depraving, as the will of God, his god, his heavenly father, in his drive to purify the earth of all the heathen souls that now sparsely populated it. But as much as he would hate to have to descend into the lion’s den unarmed, they badly needed the equipment. The lives of his men were at stake, and they depended on him. A single wrong decision on his part, and they would pay with their lives. He scanned all of their faces, and he didn’t like what he saw.

Tell Matthew that giving up our weapons is completely unacceptable. If we go, our weapons go or there’s no deal, Massey said in a deadly serious tone, seeing relief wash away the looks of trepidation on his team members’ faces.

With Massey’s words, the two remaining figures went rigid as if they were at attention. For a split second, Massey thought they would have a shoot-out in the claustrophobic room. For what seemed like an eternity, the two men stood motionless, remaining completely silent. Finally after several long moments, the leader finally spoke.

Please, sir, as with any other house of worship, there are rules and those rules must be obeyed at all costs. This is house of the Lord, and it is no different from any other. We are peaceful citizens and wish no harm on one of God’s most beloved creatures. For this is his house and for that we must obey him, the man said, assuming his opponent would offer no further resistance. So if you will please give your weapons to Joshua, he will see that they are properly cared for— That was as far as he got before Massey cut him off. His men tensed again, ready for action. Listen and listen real good. I don’t know what kind of bullshit stunt you’re trying to pull, but I’ll be goddamned if I came halfway across the city to meet you here only to turn over our weapons and be led underground to buy equipment that may not even exist, he barked, quickly realizing that words alone would not get the message across to the man he was speaking to. Without warning, he drew his sidearm from its holster that was strapped to his thigh, a 5mm Skorpion Defender, a small but extremely powerful and deadly weapon. At this point, the situation was deteriorating so rapidly that the others in Massey’s group expertly moved into defensive positions, their weapons not only covering the two men but also all the entrances that led into the small antechamber. Massey’s gun hung at his side, but the intent was clear. The tall robed figure cleared his throat and spoke again.

Sir, you’re being completely unreasonable. We’ve been nothing but gracious to you and kindly enough to take you into our home with the intentions of bartering with you in good faith, and all you’ve managed to do is completely ruin our business agreement. To think that you would barge into our home, pointing weapons is absolutely absurd. It’s madness, I thou— The man suddenly stopped as if someone had flipped his on/off switch. Massey’s hand had whipped up the weapon so quickly almost no one had seen it, and it was centered directly on the man’s forehead. Massey’s hand was rock steady.

You tell Matthew that he’s got two minutes, exactly two minutes, to get his ass up here or the deal is off and that he’s about to have one less parishioner! Massey said in the same dead-serious tone. Another interminably long period passed in the small chamber. This time, Massey was certain that his actions would result in gunplay, knowing that the two men knew they were beaten but would not go down without a fight, even if it meant needlessly getting themselves killed.

As you wish, the robed man spoke from the shadows of his hood. As he reached into his robe, Massey was positive that he was going to pull out a weapon, causing him to increase the amount of pressure on the Skorpion’s trigger, nearly causing it to fire, then saw that the man was not withdrawing a gun but merely a small handheld two-way radio, one that looked like it was as old as the city itself. Bringing the radio to his lips and speaking in a language Massey had never heard before and could definitely not understand, the man spoke rapidly for almost a full minute, then abruptly stopped. Father Matthew will be here momentarily, most likely not in the two-minute time span you have demanded, but nevertheless he is on his way now and will be here shortly, the man said with a grim edge to his voice.

Please, sir, lower your weapon. We mean you no harm and we are of no threat to you, so I ask you again, please lower your weapon, said the robed figure again, his voice not showing the slightest sign of fear. While we wait, I suggest that we enter the main hall, and as I’ve said before, one of our services is just about to begin. I think that you will no doubt find it interesting, he said, his voice dripping with malice.

Seeing that the two men most likely represented no immediate danger to him or his team, he slowly lowered the Skorpion, finally sheathing it in his thigh holster. Massey turned to survey his men; they all looked worn and tired. It had been a long and dangerous journey. The members bearing the heavy loads were now leaning up against the stone wall, letting it support the brunt of their burden. They were just as ready as he to get this business done and over with; the sooner they got their equipment and got back to the tunnels, the better. Massey unconsciously shifted the heavy load on his back as well. What kind of service is it? Massey asked with no small amount of sarcasm in his voice because he knew exactly what kind of people he was dealing with, several members of his group sharing his same derisive smile.

I believe it would be considered by those of less fulfilling religious ideologies to be a sacrificial ceremony, a very special one indeed to be exact. It was common knowledge that Matthew had branched off and formed his own religious sect. There were even rumors of some of his own people being literally staked to the ground where they were killed mercilessly for what Matthew considered a sin, which could be anything from speaking in a foul tongue about their heavenly father to a woman being caught with shaved legs, underarms, or genitalia. Any of these offenses could and would be punished by death. They had expected a lot of things tonight, but they had not thought that they would bear witness to an actual human sacrifice. It was too late to turn back now, and he could not help the person who had been condemned and could only hope he would not suffer too much. For all any of them knew, the condemned individual might have actually done something to warrant the punishment. Either way, guiltily or not, they weren’t here to intervene with the church’s goings-on.

Is this not to your liking? said the robed figure.

Glancing at his team once more, he turned back to the mysterious voice. We’re ready, Massey countered in the same, flat tone.

Very well then, if you’re ready, I will lead the way. Joshua, please close the door behind us, he said to the younger man. The robed figure leading them walked several paces across the small chamber to an enormous set of doors made of some type of wood, and through the door, a chorus of voices could be heard chanting in unison as they approached. An eerie light, the color of blood, shone through the gap between the immense doors and the smooth surface of the cobblestone floor. Two large-diameter metal rings were mounted in the center of each door, and with a heavy pull, the robed man just managed to open one of the huge doors. What Massey saw was unlike anything he could have ever imagined, even after all the horrible things he had seen in his life. Horror in the very sense of horror. The large door swung open on its huge iron hinges, leading the way into an enormous hall that was saturated in the bloodred light. Hundreds of wooden pews faced a gigantic stage that had been erected several feet above the surface of the cobblestone floor. Massey could just make out several figures on the stage moving about but could not make out exactly what they were doing.

He could see that the hall was occupied by several hundred people, all wearing the same type of dark woolen robes. The walls of the makeshift cathedral were adorned with human skeletons, all of them fixed in the position of the crucifixion of Christ. The high wall gave way to a vast high-domed ceiling that was astonishingly covered with human remains. The horrific scene stopped them all in their tracks, all seeming to have been frozen as if in a trance of some sort. It was truly a ghastly scene. Each wondered in their own mind where all it the bodies had come from. As if he had read the thoughts of those with him, the robed figure cleared his throat and said with conviction, I assume you are pondering as to how we have amassed such a quantity of specimens. Please follow me and you shall see for yourselves. Father Matthew will be here shortly, he said in a humorless, dry tone.

Stepping past Massey, he led the way down a wide aisle, passing scores of other robed figures with their heads bowed, clasped hands held out in front of them in silent prayer. None of them raised their heads as they passed. As they approached the massive stage, Massey could see what was taking place. His alert eyes were taking in all the surroundings. The stage itself was lighted by several hundred candles, all arranged in odd patterns and at varying heights. Massey counted twelve men onstage, standing in pairs of twos that formed a perfect circle around a raised platform in the center, each man holding a red candle. As they came abreast of the stage, the robed man motioned toward an empty pew so that they could watch the service. Warily, each of them sat down to watch the unfolding events, their weapons and equipment making loud clanking noises as they settled into the hard wooden benches, those with the heavy packs of supplies grateful for the rest despite the event that was about to take place.

As they sat and waited, the tall robed man who had led them in walked to the front of the stage and ascended a short flight of stairs and disappeared behind a large dark-purple curtain. As much as Massey was interested to see what was about to unfold, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling that something was not right about this whole scenario. By now, the transaction should have been complete and they should have been well on their way back to the tunnels. Instead, they were sitting here like they were at a late-night movie, as if nothing at all was wrong. Massey could not escape the feeling no matter how hard he tried; this night was going to turn out very bad. As the chanting subsided, Victor leaned close to Massey’s ear and said harshly, Massey, what the hell are we doing here? We should have been gone by now! As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Victor was right; they should have been long gone. Ignoring his comment, he turned his attention back to the spectacle that was happening on the stage. Slowly, in unison, all the members raised their heads, apparently aware of something the others were not.

As if on cue, several robed men made their way out from behind the dark curtain, slowly dragging a woman who was screaming frantically, putting up a fierce struggle, trying her best to break free of the iron grasp the men had on her; but the combined strength of all of them made her resistance futile. Still struggling and pleading, tears streaming down her face, she was finally dragged to the raised platform on the stage that they could see now was made from an entire piece of solid marble. Finally, with great effort, she was forced upon the platform and was tethered to it with large ropes that completely immobilized all of her limbs.

From the front row, all of Massey’s men could see the terror-stricken look on the woman’s youthful face, her cries and screams increasing in intensity, almost to the point of making their ears ring from the deafening howls of terror emanating from the young woman. The woman was begging for her captors to release her, saying she would not disobey God’s word again. As the last of the ropes were secured, one of the robed figures stepped forward and placed a piece of wadded cloth into her mouth, but not before the woman could scream out, Lord, forgive me for my sins, forgive me! She was silenced by the gag that was secured with a piece of rope, tied around her head, muffling her cries for mercy. With this done, all the men stepped back and waited as if at attention, heads bowed, hands clasped as if they were in prayer.

The other member sitting beside Massey, Andrew, the youngest of his group, nudged him with his knee and gave him a questioning look. Giving his younger companion a fierce scowl, Massey returned his attention to the service that was taking place onstage. Without warning, all the robed figures in the cathedral and up on the stage began their incomprehensible chant, filling the hall with what seemed like a thousand voices.

*     *     *

Father Matthew was extremely displeased that his meeting tonight with young Mary had been rushed due to the business at hand with the interlopers who wanted some of their equipment. The bastard had shown up an hour early, and his sexual romp with his young beauty had paid the price. The two-way radio that he had concealed in his robe crackled again, saying that their visitors were being uncooperative by refusing to turn over their weapons before being taken below and were demanding to see him in person, and finally and most importantly that the madman Massey had almost killed Father Luke.

With a harsh string of curses that would be severely frowned upon by God, Matthew stormed from his room down the corridor, leaving young Mary breathing heavily and sweating profusely, her young body a work of art in the dim candlelight that only youth can provide. He knew with certainty that he was going to have to handle this personally. Before the incident several minutes ago, Luke was going to handle the transaction, but he had nearly gotten himself killed. He had known something was terribly wrong when he heard the aching groan of the ancient doors slowly open and close several floors above. That could have only meant one thing. And it had completely ruined his evening. Luke was going to tell their visitors that Father Matthew was unavailable, but the transaction would go on as normal.

He knew Massey personally from years ago when the city had come undone in nuclear destruction. He also knew that the son of a bitch was a lunatic and dangerous as hell. Massey was as coldblooded as they come. He had witnessed him execute four people for nothing more than stealing a few meager scraps of food.

Grabbing the radio out of his robe, Matthew spoke in low rapid tones, instructing his subordinate to comply with their demands and to keep them occupied until he arrived on the scene. He cursed bitterly again. Father David was performing a sacrifice tonight, but it looked like he was going to have to take his place, then he would deal with his guest. Turning back to his chamber, he entered quickly, giving the still resting Mary a wicked slap on her backside and hurriedly rushed out of the chamber.

As they watched, a very tall figure appeared on the stage; and unlike the others, his robe was solid white with intricate gold designs embroidered at various places on the robe, some running the