The Necromancers of Santa Muerte (Part VI)

"St. Mary's Roman Catholic Church" by Enoch Leung is licensed under CC by 2.0

James hesitated, even as he raised his carbine into a firing position. He’d seen what happened to those who displeased Santa Muerte. The images of the woman’s companions being ripped apart were fresh in his mind. The offer seemed to be in good faith and he slowly lowered his firearm.

“How would you like to be the King of Texas? You would have legions of loyal, undying servants to enforce your will, the authority to decide matters of life and death, and you could take your nephew fishing every weekend. Just. Bend. The. Knee,” the final four words were emphasized by the necromancer.

James clenched his fists. How did this man know about the fishing trip? Was this a veiled threat toward what little family he had left? He looked at the undead that surrounded, trying to look past their unblinking eyes, to see the truth.

His thinking was interrupted by the sound of an approaching helicopter. It was coming straight for James, with a rope ladder on the side. It hovered overhead and began to lower the ladder down to James.

The red-robed necromancer grabbed the nearest zombie, twisted its neck, and pulled the head off the body.

The ladder came closer to James, ten feet away, nine feet, eight feet…

The necromancer lit the head on fire with his sorcerous arts.

…seven feet, six feet, five feet…

The flaming head flew toward the helicopter.

…four feet, three feet, two feet...James jumped and reached for the bottom rung.

The fiery projectile connected with the helicopter and it plummeted to the ground near the edge of the park, crushing a large group of undead. The main rotor blade snapped and launched itself at the necromancer, who took an undignified dive to the ground.

In the chaos that followed, James sprinted to the largest nearby building he could find, Saint Athanasius’ Catholic Church. He ran up the steps three at a time and nearly wrenched his arm out of his socket as he pulled the door open. Once he slammed it behind him, he moved everything he could to secure it. The beauty of the space awed him, for a brief moment, he thought he was in the throne room of God. The sculpture, the paintings, the faint scent of incense in the air, everything exuded an air of the holy.

Looking up at the massive status of the crucified Christ, James said, “Sorry. I know you said that whosoever shall seek to save his life shall lose it; and whosoever shall lose his life shall preserve it, but I need to stay alive a little longer to figure out how to stop Santa Muerete’s followers. Surely, you’ll forgive me for that, right?”

He felt around in his pockets for his cell phone, just as the first of the zombies began to bang on the doors of the church with their decaying fists. As he pulled shards of the screen and a bone fragment out.

“And the radio is with Roberts. Dam- Darn it!” he said out loud, looking at the statue of the Lord. He was alone. Truly alone.

James checked his ammo and realized that he left behind his spare magazines. He only had what was loaded into his gun. The pounding grew louder. He set up on a pew with a clear firing line at the door. They were going to pay until he ran out of ammunition.

“This is holy ground,” came the voice of the necromancer from outside, “yet here we are. Where is your God now? I am going to enjoy watching your flesh being ripped from your bones while Jesus watches impotently.”

James adjusted the barrel of the gun so that he was looking down it. A wave of hopelessness came over him. He failed. Texas was lost. The faith that the Rangers put in him was misplaced. The best he could do was end it all painlessly.

“No,” came a small voice in his head, “you have twelve shots left. Twelve was all he needed.”

James smiled. A wild idea came to him as he strode up to the door.

“Follower of Santa Muerte! Even if I fall, you cannot win. The end of this is foreordained!”

Bone-chilling laughter came through the door. James moved everything away from the door and opened it. A sea of hands grasped at him, but he tried to push through to the red-robed man. Teeth bit his flesh, but he kept pushing. Finally, he got a clear shot at the necromancer and fired. Bodies of zombies flew to intercept, but James was too close. The bullets hit their intended target and the man died, a dark crimson staining his red robes.

The undead around him slowed their assault, but the damage was done. With blood pouring out of his wounds, he closed his eyes and peacefully fell asleep.

---

He dreamed of butterflies made of light floating around him while he slept in a field of soft grass. Every now and then, one would land on him and gently poke him with its antenna.

Then he awoke strapped to a bed in what appeared to be a hospital. He looked around and he was hooked up to several machines, including two different IVs. The machines began to beep wildly as he looked around.

The door to his room swung open and a large man with a buzz cut in military fatigues came in, flanked by two doctors. Each of them was openly wearing a large crucifix. The doctors rushed over to James’ side and checked his vitals.

“Deputy Swift,” began the man in fatigues, “My name is Knight-Marshall McDaniel of the Neo-Crusaders. We have been tasked by the Vatican with retaking Mexico from those vile followers of Santa Muerte. Based on your performance in Laredo, the Rangers have agreed to lend you to our cause. You in?”

James nodded.

THE END

Read Part I of the The Necromancers of Santa Muerte here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@notjohndaker/the-necromancers-of-santa-muerte-part-i

Read Part II of the The Necromancers of Santa Muerte here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@notjohndaker/the-necromancers-of-santa-muerte-part-ii

Read Part III of the The Necromancers of Santa Muerte here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@notjohndaker/the-necromancers-of-santa-muerte-part-iii

Read Part IV of the The Necromancers of Santa Muerte here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@notjohndaker/the-necromancers-of-santa-muerte-part-iv

Read Part V of the The Necromancers of Santa Muerte here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@notjohndaker/the-necromancers-of-santa-muerte-part-v