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Leaving the human bar, with a sigh of relief he hoped no one else noticed, Major opened his phone, punching the number Tucker's friend had given him into the tracking app. He frowned at it, waiting for it to load. The signal in New Seattle was as spotty as everything else here.
At last it came up, a bright red dot in the middle of the map. "Let's move!"
They followed the dot to an old movie theater, shut down like almost everything was these days. But it wasn't empty, or deserted. There were people going in and out, and a crew was changing the letters on the marquee.
"What is this place?" Jordan asked. "A church for zombies?"
"That's what it looks like." The marquee proclaimed it to be the Triple Cross Church, Zombies Welcome. The sign, for now, said "BEWARE OF", which Major figured was good advice in New Seattle.
"Beats a church for humans," Captain Seattle observed. He wasn't wrong.
"Let's check it out." Major led the way, noticing that the red dot on his tracker app was pulsing, all of a sudden. He stopped and looked at the zombie at the foot of the ladder being used to change the marquee. Last time he'd seen that particular soul, he hadn't been a zombie. "Whoa. Is that the guy you scratched?"
"Once a zealot …" Jordan shook her head.
"Hey, Tucker!" Major called. The zombie looked up at him. Yep, that was the guy. "Can we have a word?"
Fear crossed Tucker's face as Major and the others began to approach—not that Major could blame the kid, entirely. Tucker turned and hurried inside the theater church, and Major and his squad followed him. Inside, he tried one more time to get the kid to stop and listen to him. "Hey. Tucker!" The room had a couple dozen or so zombies in the various rows of seats, none of whom looked all that enthused about a team of Fillmore Graves soldiers appearing among them. Major ignored them, hoping to get this done before there could be any trouble. "We need the phone," he said, softly but firmly. He didn't want to start something, but he also didn't want to sound like he was asking for a favor. "The one you took? Don't tell me you don't have it."
Tucker looked uncertain, his eyes darting around the room. While he hesitated, the other zombies began to close in, encircling Major's squad. He hoped the kids would stay cool. They'd held it together okay in the bar, but here in close quarters with a bunch of zombies they hadn't expected to be hostile could be another story altogether.
Once he knew he was being backed up by his people, Tucker's cockiness reappeared. "Okay. But it's not going to do you much good." He handed the phone to Major, continuing, "Brother Love says that the age of Fillmore Graves' greed is at an end."
Who the hell was Brother Love? And why did he have it in for Fillmore Graves? Major knew they weren't entirely popular with the zombie population, but greed? Chase Graves spent every waking moment trying to feed Seattle's zombies, to keep them safe from outside reprisals, to keep the streets clear of hostile humans. Fillmore Graves was not profiting off this situation—in fact, as far as Major could tell, it was running more deeply in the red every day.
However, this didn't feel like the time to make that point, not with these unfriendly zombies closing in around them, making it clear how unwelcome they were in this zombie church, so Major said calmly, "Let's go," and started backing up, slowly, the rest of the squad moving with him, step by cautious step.
A woman's voice from the crowd called out, "Our God is a vengeful God!" and a woman in front of Major hissed in his face. A man in the back said, "Humble yourselves."
In his peripheral vision, Major could see that both the kids had their guns out, aimed and cocked. Let them not start shooting zombies, he thought. Please, not that. Aloud, he said, still calmly, "Just keep walking."
A zombie with his arm in a sling got in Captain Seattle's face. "Every devil falls from grace." Seattle lifted his gun, aiming it at the man's face, but held his fire.
Very softly, Major said, "You shoot, they'll tear us apart."
Jordan muttered in his ear, "I think they're planning on tearing us apart regardless."
At the back of the group, Chang bumped into one of the zombie church members, and Major could hear the ratchet of his gun being cocked.
"We starve; Fillmore Graves steals our brains," said an old man at the front of the crowd. He frowned into the barrel of Captain Seattle's pistol, not impressed by it, or the soldiers.
"Repent your sins!" another woman called.
"Major!" Seattle whispered, sounding like he was coming to the end of his endurance.
"Hold tight," Major told him. "We're good." They had made it about halfway to the door by now, moving slowly and deliberately, and even though the parishioners were surrounding and taunting them, no move had been made to do anything but intimidate. He got the sense that it wouldn't be, not without permission from this Brother Love.
"I don't think you know what the word 'good' means," Jordan told him.
Somewhere in the crowd, a man said, "They that take the sword shall perish with the sword."
And then, from above them, a loud voice cried out, "Behold!" Major turned to see a figure in a white robe standing on a balcony. He was backlit, so Major couldn't make out his face at first. "What devil is in our midst, disturbing the house of God?" His arms were raised at his side, and he held what appeared to be a hammer in one hand.
Major squinted, the face coming into focus. It was hard to be sure, because the last time he'd seen that face it had ice crystals frozen on it, but it looked like … "Angus?" he whispered. Blaine's father, here, posing as some kind of minister? What fresh hell was this?
Angus seemed to recognize him at the same time, the threat vanishing from his face and being replaced by … interest, possibly. A calculating look such as Major had often seen on his son's face, the 'how can I turn this to my advantage' look. "And lo," Angus breathed, "my eyes have been deceived. For now they are witness to a miracle. My children, standing before us is the Angel of Chaos." He pointed his hammer at Major. "Celebrate our guest, for he stormed the gates of hell, liberating tortured zombies from their prisons. A reminder that even the best of us can lose his way." He clasped his hands in front of him, holding the hammer like a crucifix. "So we will pray for you, Brother Major, as you find your way back to your people. The chosen people." His voice deepened, the threat in it unmistakable, and he waved the hammer. "If I ever see you here again, wearing that devil's cloth, I'll knock your skull clean off your body."
There was silence when he finished speaking. Major didn't dare say anything. He tapped Jordan on the shoulder, pushing her a little, and the squad began to move again. With Brother Love's promise of safe passage, the zombie church-goers let them go, but Major felt their reluctance. This was a deeper antipathy toward Fillmore Graves than he'd known existed. He'd bet Chase Graves didn't know how deep it went.
And now Angus McDonough was leading them. That could not be good.