What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [114]
Liam found a parking spot about three light-years from the church, and made his way past disgusting puddles of blood rain, trying to look casual as he made the long trek toward the sprawling Driftwood Fellowship compound. He was a little worried about standing out, seeing as he was a pair of boots, a shiny belt buckle, and maybe a gas mask short of looking like everyone else. On the other hand, he was wearing pants, which was more than could be said for the sprinkling of naked guys who were also making their way toward the church.
The sound of so many trucks, and so many men – groups of whom were taunting and engaging in intermittent, light skirmishes with the naked guys – was great and cacophonous. It would have been difficult, for example, to enjoy a quiet picnic lunch or meditate. The situation was compounded by the presence of a largish lawn crew that, for whatever reason, had concluded that this was an ideal day for botanical ministrations and leaf-blowing.
Liam watched some of the military men watch as a couple of gardeners with leaf blowers held a couple of naked guys at bay. The streakers appeared to want to traipse through some pansies. The two men from the lawn crew appeared not to want the naked guys to do that, and had instigated a standoff. The naked guys squinted and squared their jaws. The lawn guys cranked their leaf blowers up to the highest setting, brandishing them at the naked guys.
Each side juked and faked and made jerky movements this way and that to try to throw the other side off balance. Finally, one of the naked guys faked left, while another ran right. The gardeners tried to follow the naked guys with their blowers, but then one of the crew tripped, and it was all over. A horde of other naked guys noticed the breach, and began streaming through, trampling the lawn crew and pansies alike.
A group of soldiers and secessionists immediately swarmed the area where the naked guys were getting through, presumably to avenge the gardeners or the pansies, which they did by yelling and hooting and stomping both to bits. Most of the naked guys ended up escaping the throng and hoofing it up the street toward more of their unclothed comrades.
Liam shook his head and strolled up one of the sidewalks that led to the church, hoping that the nearby battle between clothed and unclothed idiots would serve as enough of a distraction for him to slip by unnoticed. But this was not to be.
“Hey! You!” A small group of soldiers spotted him, and stepped out onto the sidewalk to block his path. One stood in front the others – the leader, apparently. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m just trying to visit the church,” said Liam.
“The church is closed to visitors.”
“Are you sure? Who are they?” Liam pointed to one of the larger group of patriots milling about in the parking lot.
“That’s a well-relegated militia,” said one of the other soldiers.
“What about them?” he asked, pointing to another naked-guy intrusion force.
The leader of the soldiers scowled. “You’re not going in,” he said. He raised his gun a little. The other soldiers followed suit.
Liam let a quiet, skeptical laugh escape his lips. “Seriously? You guys realize that what you’re doing is illegal, right?”
The soldiers just stared at Liam. The leader of the group said, “Our orders come from the Governor himself.” He paused before adding, with a smug head bobble, “So there!”
“Yeah…” said Liam.
“And you,” the soldier continued, “are not going in there. Put your hands behind your head.” He used the barrel of his gun to knock Liam’s backpack off his shoulder, and then poked the weapon