Status: This is my JulNoWriMo piece so updates will be sporadic at best.

The Zombie Reaper

Ten

“So are you Thomas's spy now?”

It had been two days since Father Thomas had confronted him, but in that time he had been unable to find Brooks to speak to him. It had been only a few moments before, while on the way to watch yet another sparring round that he had finally spotted his friend walking alone down a hallway.

Brooks turned around and a faint, nervous smile. “You know me better than that Lynuel,” he said shaking his head. “I'm no spy. That requires a touch of dishonesty that we both know that I don't have.”

Lynuel shrugged and pushed himself off the wall, using his cane to step forward. “You don't have to be dishonest to spy,” his friend pointed out. “You simply have to tell people things that they shouldn't know.”

Brook's pale cheeks turned the same color red as Lynuel's hair as the younger man looked away, clearly ashamed. “I didn't do it to hurt you Lynuel,” he whispered. “I'm just... I don't want to see you ruin your life.”

“What are you talking about Brooks? How is talking to Father Joquay of all people going to ruin my life?” he demanded his voice rising in pitch as he stalked towards his friend.

Brooks flinched and for a moment Lynuel almost felt ashamed for how he was treating his friend. But at the same time, he honestly didn't understand why Brooks was going to Father Thomas to tell the man anything. It didn't make sense to him. And no matter how hard he tried, he could find no reason why it should either.

“Will you just tell me that one thing?” Lynuel pressed.

“It's the council!” Brooks cried. His face had lost all of its color, but his cheeks were a bright shade of red in contrast as he leaned forward and grabbed Lynuel's arm, dragging him into one of the empty rooms that sat along the corridor and locking it behind them. “You have to understand Lyn, I didn't want to do this. I-it's wrong. And you're my best friend. I don't want to lose that.”

“Than just tell me what's going on Brooks,” Lynuel asked with a sigh shaking his head. “I don't understand how my best friend of all people could treat me like this. And what is with all the mystery, eh? You've always known I'll tell you anything I know... well as long as it's not someone else's secret.”

Brooks rubbed his hands over his face, pacing furiously around the room. “I-I thought it was for the best Lynuel. I really did. H-how did you even find out?”

“Father Thomas told me,” Lynuel spat, now why don't you tell me why Brooks. You keep saying it was for the best but how is that even possible? It was a private conversation and you know as well as I do that the roof is actually a public area which means I am perfectly admissible to meet with a friend there.”

Brooks shook his head. “The day that you were injured, Father Thomas and Father Marcio came to me. They said that there was a chance that you could be in danger because of... well because you resemble the Nzombiy and with the recent attacks and the missions that you might have to go on, people might mistake you for one of them. They wanted... they wanted me to watch you and to, well-”

“I can't see how any of this has to do with the council,” Lynuel interrupted holding up his hand. “Besides, people have mistaken me for a Nzombiy before in the past. There's never been a problem.”

Brooks took a deep breath. “The thing is Lyn, they already knew that you meet with Father Joquay. I never told them that. They told me. And... they also told me that the council, they're going to be giving a proclamation in a month to all of us. It's about the Nzombiy. After you have all reported back from at least one mission, they're going to cut us off from the utterly. No friendly or even benign contact. They wanted to know about your relationship with Joquay and how it would effect everything.”

Lynuel stood before his friend silent, his head bowed. He was trying to understand what he had just heard but it seemed unreal. How was all of this even possible? They had just said, only two weeks before, stated before their whole order that they felt nothing for or against the Nzombiy. Why would they change everything so quickly. “Why?” Lynuel managed. “I don't understand. Are you sure their information is correct? Why would the council do that? It just doesn't make any sense.”

“I know,” Brooks said quietly. “But it's true Lyn. I wish it wasn't, but they even showed me the paperwork. I don't know how they got it, but it's true. For whatever reason, the council has decided to finally take a view on the Nzombiy and it doesn't look good for any of us.”

Lynuel couldn't argue with that. Why would the council make such a declaration? It was tantamount to war! Unless they knew something that the rest of them didn't which honestly wouldn't surprise the young acolyte. Those in power always held the information which they gave and took at will. Was it possible that the government itself was soon to take it's own stand on the Nzombiy and the council was simply preparing to act? His stomach clenched with fear. If that was the case...

He was afraid for the world itself.

“I-I have to go,” Lynuel said turning abruptly and heading for the door. His fingers slipped around the lock for a moment before he managed to get it unlocked. He pulled open the door and stopped dead at the sight of Father Thomas simply standing there with his hands behind his back, staring pointedly at Lynuel.

“We need to talk,” Father Thomas said before looking over Lynuel's shoulder and into the room. His eyes landed on Brooks and he sighed. “You told him.”

Lynuel looked back to see his friend bowing his head in shame. “I can't lie to him Father,” he whispered. “You shouldn't have asked me to.”

Father Thomas shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. “Leave,” he ordered. “I need to speak with Brother Lynuel alone.”

Brooks shot his friend a regretful look before he scrambled out of the room. Lynuel stepped away from the door and Father Thomas, allowing the man to come into the room and watch him warily. “So than, get it out,” Thomas ordered. “I won't talk over you lad.

Lynuel had found two chairs in the room though Father Thomas had insisted that he preferred to stand. The younger man didn't argue as he sat down in his own chair and rested his hands on the cane he held before him. “You should have known I would confront Brooks,” Lynuel pointed out. “What was I supposed to do when you told me how you had found out about that conversation? Was I supposed to just let it go? You both invaded my privacy!”
Father Thomas snorted rudely. “Is that all you have to say?” he demanded.

“No, that is the least of what I have to say? What the hell gives you the right to manipulate people? And why are you spying on the council? How can they even consider cutting us off from the Nzombiy! Explain it to me!”

Father Thomas shook his head as he ambled over to the window and stared out of it for a time. The silence that began to build between Thomas and Lynuel became an almost physical barrier. Lynuel almost spoke up again but found himself cut off as Thomas finally replied. “You are twenty-six years old Lynuel Engelking, but you act as if you were a boy of fourteen. You are an acolyte of the Order of Saint George. You have no privacy and you have no right to demand such answers of your superiors. If it had been any other priest you had treated like Brooks, you would have been given initiate duties for a week if not more. Since you clearly don't know what we're dealing with, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for a moment, but only a moment.”

Lynuel opened his mouth, but then thought better of it and snapped his jaw shut. Instead he sat clutching the head of his cane, his dark fingers turned white from their hold on the smooth wood. There was so much he wanted to say to that. He couldn't though. To speak up would be to invite a punishment which Father Thomas's tone clearly said he desired to give.

“Yes, it is true. Father Marcio and I went to Brooks the night that you were injured before you woke up. Your meetings with Father Joquay haven't gone unnoticed despite what you both think. It wasn't us who discovered it, but we assured the council that we will deal with it.”

"Deal with it!" Lynuel snapped, unable to contain himself any longer as he shot up out of his chair.

Father Thomas spun around and shoved the younger male back down into his chair. "Silent!" the man roared sufficiently cowering the other for the moment. "Yes, we can and will deal with it Lynuel, but how is up to you. You have two choices and I know that you won't care for either of them which is why Father Marcio and I have already made the choice for you based on what we know of your relationship with Father Joquay and your personality itself."

"You can't do this," Lynuel said shaking his head. "I'm leaving and you can't stop me. Don't even try. I'm going to see my friend whether you and the council like it or not. That is my right as a United States citizen and I will not have that forgotten."

Father Thomas stalked forward until he stood looming over Lynuel and sufficiently keeping him from standing and leaving. "You really don't get it do you?" the man asked shaking his head. "You aren't a citizen of any country anymore. Or did you not read all of the fine print when you signed your life over to the Order of Saint George? There is a reason that our services are more sought after than those of the civilian military and militias. You belong to us boy. Every single member of this order belongs to the council. You have no more rights. We can do whatever the hell we want and no one, not even you can stop us."

Lynuel felt his stomach plummet. He was shaking his head slowly but he knew that Father Thomas wasn't lying to him and that was the worst part of all. He knew that the man in front of him was speaking the absolute truth and there was nothing he could do to change that fact. He had, so many years ago, unknowingly, sold away his very life all to make his mother happy.

"What have I done?" he whispered. His grip on his cane loosened and his head bowed, his forehead coming to rest on his clasped hands as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

A large paw of a hand came to rest on the back of his head. "We all face the facts at one time or another lad," Father Thomas whispered. "None of us usually even think about it when we're signing our lives away. After all, no other order has such clauses and it isn't something we talk about. But now you understand Lynuel. You can't leave and you certainly can't warn Father Joquay of anything. You just have to have faith in the rest of us. Things will work themselves out as they need to. God will see to that."

"God? What does God have to do with our Order?" Lynuel asked looking up at the other man. "We're not priests. We're mercenaries. We're a private army to sell for the highest human bidder. And you can't deny that Father Thomas. Don't even try to because I see the truth in your eyes right now. You know as well as I do the truth in that."

Father Thomas looked away, his hand falling away from Lynuel's head and to his side where it hung limply. "I wouldn't boy," he granted quietly. "It doesn't mean that you have to lose faith. After all, it's the only thing that keeps those of us who know going. That... or the desire to fight, the need to kill."

"And what about those who know who don't have either?" Lynuel asked feeling bile rise in his stomach. This couldn't be happening. He wanted to wake up and find that it had all been some horrible kind of dream.

The footsteps that moved across the room were light. The door squeaked softly on its hinges. "You remember how Father Marcio spoke of a fate worse than death?" he asked quietly from the doorway. "If you lose your faith and you don't want to fight or kill... you'll know what one of those fates is."

Lynuel's hands clenched around the cane once more as the door closed softly behind the man as he left. Lynuel bowed his head and bit the inside of his lip hard. It wasn't worth crying over even though the urge rushed through him. Father Thomas was right, about everything. Especially about the fact that he had been acting like a child. He was a grown man and there was one thing grown men always did.

They found a way to fix things.