Giant ants conquer the earth! |
Chapter Thirty Four – Near White Sulfur Springs, West Virginia Moses was elated. His congregation had grown far beyond his expectations and there had been no more angry parents protesting against his or his Saint’s special privileges. The people were terrified of the ants and firmly believed that only Moses had the power to keep them from being devouring. He had, on occasion, selected some new convert to feed to the rare foraging ant. He figured it was advantageous to remind the congregation that they lived only by his blessing and sufferance. Plus, it was rather entertaining after weeks of boredom. Moses was growing tired of the demands imposed by his daily sermons and changed them to twice a week. He was also growing tired of lying around in the best suite in the hotel being served by a dozen young females and living off the best canned food available. During his last meeting with the small group of people he dubbed, his Saints, he discovered there were other groups of survivors all around the country. Melton Ignatowski, or Iggy as he called him, was an electronics geek who put together an impressive array of radios and other communication devices. Iggy discovered a group of survivors living in a secure bunker in Kentucky. These survivors consisted mostly of military and scientific people and their dependents and were headed by a FBI Agent. Moses thought of the FBI Agent who had grilled him at his campsite just before the ants started their rampage. He hated the FBI. He also detested any form of police or government or military personnel. They threatened his existence and the continued well being of his growing congregation. Iggy also learned that this group was communicating with the military holed up in Cheyenne Mountain, and at several military bases around the country. So long as they were around, he felt threatened. Like it or not, he would have to change his tactics and become more militant, more like those crazy Arab jihad hard-liners. He needed a hard corps of Rambo like commandos. There was a small number of old military personnel among his congregation. Even if they were too old to become holy warriors, they should be able to teach some of their rusty skills to his young fanatical believers. The ants were also becoming less and less a problem. With food being so scarce in the uninhabited areas, including wild game, they were concentrating all their efforts on the major cities. It had reached the point to where they were rarely seen. What would happen when the ants devoured what food was readily available? Would they spread out and concentrate on finding the humans they had overlooked? And, when those humans were also devoured what next? One thing was for certain; no amount of protective slime would keep the starving creatures from consuming his people. Moses considered himself a long range thinker and planner. It was time to plan for the future. “I have had a vision from God.” Moses stared at the small gathering of his Saints. There were less than twenty of them and he was aware that only a few actually believed in his holy shit. “Our congregation has grown to nearly five thousand members. Our brothers, the ants, will soon revert to their primitive ways and start attacking each other.” Moses assumed this would happen when all other reliable food sources ran out. “When the ants do this, we must depend on other means of protecting ourselves and finding enough food to survive.” One of the Saints asked. “If the military can’t destroy the ants, what makes you think we can?” Moses chafed. He didn’t like the arrogant way the man looked when he asked that question. “Did I say anything about destroying the ants? The man looked puzzled. “The military, or what’s left of it, will have to contend with the ants,” Moses continued. “If, or when, the ants start devouring each other, perhaps the military will be able to destroy them. The Lord has not confided to me the answer to that question.” “You mean protecting ourselves against the military?” Burt grunted. Moses spread his hands apart and grinned. “Do you wish to return to a police state or military dictatorship? Do you want to starve while the new government doles out barely enough food to survive on? Do you want to beg for crumbs while the government lives high off the hog? Do you want to face a firing squad for refusing to bow down to those military criminals?” The Saints nodded their heads in unison. “I thought not. When the ants are gone, and I believe they will be because God sent them here to punish mankind not to wipe us out completely. The only food sources that will be available will be the canned and bottled food uneaten by the ants. And, once that source of food is gone or beyond safe consumption, there will only be one source of food left until what is left of mankind can plant and reap new crops.” Moses pointed towards himself. The eyes of the Saints grew larger as they finally realized what he was insinuating. Some held looks of revulsion, others of curiosity. Burt looked smug and satisfied. “A little hunger, a few deaths, and some serious messages from God will make it happen.” Moses’ voice went higher until he was almost shouting. “What about those who refuse to be converted?” a woman asked, meaning what about those who refused to eat human flesh. Moses gave her a sadistic grin. “That will be the simple part. Converting the people to God’s holy word will be easy, protecting God’s chosen people from the militaristic survivors will be much more difficult.” “We can raid the gun stores and armories and collect weapons,” a Saint suggested. “I bet we’re the largest group of survivors in the country other than those Army pukes.” “We’ll have to be careful,” Burt stated, making eye contact with everyone at the table. “Only certain types should be armed.” Moses nodded his head in agreement. “Only those committed to the survival of God’s chosen people will be allowed to join the brotherhood of protectors and bear arms.” Over the next several hours, the group discussed plans for the organization of a military arm of the congregation. Maps were scanned for potential weapons sites and teams were organized to find and secure those weapons. Moses started his other campaign the very next day by cutting the rations in half. The congregation was already on a minimum food intake due to the difficulty in scrounging can goods. Burt led an expedition to the town of Covington to the east while other Saints led groups west to Lewisburg and south to Ronceverte. In Covington they ran into a gold mine at the Mallow Mall Shopping Center. The near by K-Mart was practically intact with the shelves filled with can goods. One of the men with Burt remembered a Wal-Mart Super Center on South Durant Road, so as soon as they cleaned out the K-Mart, they headed south. Just before they spotted the parking area to the shopping center, a semi truck pulled out and headed for the interstate. They hid until it was well down the highway. “Take the damn truck back there and follow them,” Burt ordered one of the men with him. “We need to know where they’re headed. They don’t belong to us so they must be another survival group.” While the man followed orders, they cautiously entered the Wal-Mart Super Center parking area. The store itself had been ransacked but behind the store several semi trailers were backed into the unloading ramps. Both trailers were full of can goods, most of it in the form of canned meats from a meat packing plant and canned vegetables. Burt ordered several men who knew how to drive semi trucks to find trucks to pull the trailers. This, combined with what they found at the K-Mart was enough food to last for a long time. By the time they found reliable trucks and filled the one they brought with them with other goods from the store, the man Burt sent to follow the others returned. “I followed them to where they turned off on State Road 311 going south,” the man stated. “They turned west on a small road that leads to Tuckahoe and into the Greenbrier State Forest. We used to go hunting out that way so I know they gotta be hiding out in that area somewhere.” Burt called his lieutenant over to him and ordered the man to see to it that the full tractor-trailers were taken back to White Sulfur Springs. He then ordered three men, including the one who just returned, to accompany him. He had to find out who those people were so he could determine if they were a danger to Moses and the community. “That’s the road they took.” The hunter named Jimmy pointed at two parallel wheel tracks leading off down a dirt and gravel road. “Truck was full too ‘cause them ruts are deep.” Burt studied the tracks. He noticed several smaller tracks intermingled with the large trailer tracks indicating that more than one vehicle had gone that way. “Where does this road lead too, Jimmy?” “Best I can recollect it goes all way through the State Forest. It turns into a crappy road several miles in and other small logging roads branch off from it. There’s a good number of small meadows and streams scattered about and the deer hunting is great if a hunter could get lucky enough to get one of the few rationed permits they hand out each year.” “Good places for survivors to hide out?” “If the ants didn’t get them there’s some nice camping spots and small caves scattered around.” Another one of the men spoke up. “There was a hippie commune back in there, wasn’t there, Jimmy?” “Yeah, there was. A batch of real California dope smokers and free love types.” Jimmy smacked his lips. “Had some nice looking women with them.” Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the noise of a vehicle in the distance. Burt signaled for the driver to pull their truck into the woods so it couldn’t be seen, then they took positions behind several large trees. Within a few minutes a four-wheel drive pickup with an extended cab came into view. As far as they could tell there were only four occupants. Burt decided to take a chance and stepped out into the center of the dusty gravel road. He left his rifle leaning against a tree and held up his hands as a signal for the vehicle to stop. Dennis Hardy, Floyd Graves, Buttercup and another man were out searching for medicines. Some of the people in the commune had come down with flu symptoms and Angel recommended they raid the abandoned pharmacy stores and stock up on items they would need in the future. Buttercup insisted on accompanying the scrounging party because she didn’t think any of the men knew the difference between good medicines and spoiled ones. They were on the return trip. “Man in the road!’ Floyd yelled. Dennis quickly brought the truck to a stop a dozen yards in front of the man. Floyd and the other passenger scanned the surrounding woods for signs of others, their rifles following their eyes. The man in the road was a huge black man. Dennis stuck his head out of the driver’s window. “Need help!” “We’re out scouting,” the black man replied, pointing towards several men in the wood line. He motioned for them to come out and show themselves. “Heard a vehicle coming and decided that caution was the best course of action. Don’t mean you any harm.” The man’s smile appeared to be genuine. “Name’s Burt Miller. We, me and the boys here, have a small community up in Covington. There’s about twenty of us. We been looking for other survivors.” The man named Jimmy looked askance to hide a wide grin. “We’re a peaceful community.” Dennis replied. He was still suspicious of the man’s motives even though they could have ambushed them with ease. “We live up the road a fair piece.” “Couple thousand of us!” Floyd blurted. He didn’t want these men to get the idea they could just ride in and attack the commune. Dennis and Buttercup both gave him a dirty look. “Real nice to find other survivors,” Burt grinned. “Pretty lonely with just the few of us and all those monster ants crawling all over the place.” “You must have a real secure place,” Dennis mused. “Strong building to keep the ants out and all.” “Government building. Real stout.” Burt looked at the surrounding forest. “Pretty hard to survive out in these woods, I’d guess.” “We manage.” Dennis was blunt. Burt could read from the tone of the man’s voice that he and his group were not trusted and therefore not being encouraged to visit their commune. Obviously, the look of his own men was rough compared to the clean wholesome look of the people in the truck. “You have a good day.” Burt stepped to the side of the road and smiled. “We need to be getting back to our families in Covington. Don’t like being out after dark, you never know who or what you might run into.” Dennis touched the brim of his baseball cap and drove on. As soon as they were several hundred yards down the road, he yelled at Floyd. “Dammit Floyd! Why’d you go and tell them how many of us there is and where we live?” “Figured they wouldn’t think twice of messing with several thousand people.” Floyd looked chastised. “Besides, the man said there was only twenty of them.” “You believed him?” Buttercup cut in. “And, did you smell them as we drove by? Their stink made the word putrid sound appetizing.” “One thing we gotta do is send out a scouting party to find out more about this group,” Dennis stated. “There may be only a few of them, but I very much doubt it.” “The man gave me the chills.” Buttercup shuddered. Back down the road Burt ordered the driver to pull their truck back onto the gravel road. “Why didn’t we zap them?” Jimmy asked. “We could have got them all real easy like?” “What would that accomplish, idiot?” Burt stared angrily at Jimmy. “Now we know where they live and there is at least a couple thousand of them. The old fart may have exaggerated a little but that is still a large number of people to contend with.” “And we didn’t even know they were this close to us,” another man spoke up. “That was smart tellin’ them we live in Covington.” “Might throw them off long enough for us to get organized,’ Burt grinned. “Don’t believe for a minute that they won’t check the other towns.” “Yeah, and we’ll be waiting for them!” Jimmy chuckled. “First we have to arm The Brotherhood and get them trained.” Burt did not look happy. He hoped they hadn’t waited too long to get their army organized. |