Read Online Badlands Trilogy (Book 3): Out of the Badlands by Brian J. Jarrett - Free Book Online

cooking meat greeted them. Despite his concerns, Ed felt his stomach grumble.
    Enoch led the group of two dozen to a doorway leading to a set of descending steps and stopped. “Our kitchen is downstairs,” he said, motioning toward the open door. “We break bread there as a group each day.”
    “Where do you get the food?” one of the Kevins asked. Ed couldn’t remember which one was which.
    “We have a stockpile, collected by our brave men over the past couple of years,” Enoch answered. “God has smiled upon us and we are blessed with enough to make do. We’re happy to share His blessings with you, our new friends.”
    “Why would you help us?” a short man with long, curly hair asked.
    “How can we trust you?” a stout woman asked.
    Enoch smiled. “When two travelers asked Lot for simple hospitality, did he refuse them? Of course he did not. As a matter of fact, when the angry mob demanded they be handed over so the devils could know them intimately, Lot refused.”
    Terry spoke up. “Yeah, he offered up his virgin daughters for gang rape in their place.”
    Enoch smiled. If he was affected by Terry’s bible lesson he didn’t overtly show it. “All the more illustrative of my point,” he replied, the smile hanging on his lips, but just barely. “The time has come for eating and fellowship. Please, will you join me?”
    Enoch descended the steps with John and Alice in tow. The rest of the group followed suit.
    Jasper shrugged. “I guess we’re doing this then,” he said as he walked toward the doorway.
    “Do you think it’ll be okay?” Trish asked Ed.
    “Well, we still have our guns,” Jasper replied. “Doesn’t even look like they’re packing.”
    “Should we go then?” Trish asked.
    “Not sure if we have much choice,” Ed replied. “We’re in this with everybody else now.”
    Trish nodded. She took Ed’s hand as they joined the rest of the group in the church’s basement kitchen.

Chapter Fourteen

    Chloe allowed it, so Lester walked with the two teenagers, making sure not to say anything that might spook the already suspicious girl.
    Sam had already bought in, so no challenge there. But Lester wasn’t interested in Sam. He wanted Chloe. 
    Normally he didn’t like them so young. Kids were pushovers, too easy to manipulate. No challenge. Besides, in the end they never really put up much of a fight. The older they were the more fight they had in them and all the more satisfying when he finally put them down. 
    Chloe was tough. Jaded. Suspicious, despite her young age.
    Exactly the kind of challenge Lester lived for.
    So Lester walked. He helped the two carry their loads. He let Chloe look through his backpack, revealing only clothes and innocuous supplies. (He did not reveal the knife stowed in the bag’s hidden pocket, of course.) He talked of his psychology practice, regurgitating anecdotes that were as much fiction as fact. He elaborated on his fictitious family, reciting stories about his two imaginary sons and a wife who’d had the terrible misfortune of not surviving the viral outbreak that ended civilization. Conveniently constructed stories sure to be pity-inspiring.
    Sam relayed his own losses, including that of his mother, to which Lester made puppy dog eyes before placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Lester couldn’t have given a fuck less about some random cunt, but the mask of empathy he wore had been carefully crafted over many years of practice.
    Chloe didn’t share. Surely the girl had her own stories, but she kept them to herself. Lester could hardly reign in his excitement at finding such a tough nut to crack. A delicate, sweet dessert to be savored thoroughly when the time was right. He could almost see her hanging upside down, her face flushed red with blood, her eyes brimming with tears. When he opened her up the blood would flow a bright, dazzling red.
    He whipped himself back into reality. Hold your shit together , he told himself. Take your time.