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A crazed look filled Roy’s eyes. It was the same look that always over took those eyes when Roy told one of his stories. I suppose ‘crazed’ wasn’t the proper term for such an expression, but it was a sort of excitement, inner hopefulness that encompassed his entire appearance.
“God-honest truth, Hank seened them with his own eyes,” Roy spat at the ground as the crowd grew larger. Any story that Roy started with the phrase, ‘God-honest truth’ could positively be considered nothing more than his imagination’s best effort to make up for the unfortunate time we’d been in these past 2 years.
“They was just over 6 feet, head to toe, probably damn near 8 feet wing tip to wing tip.” The crowd’s gazes glassed over as Roy went on. “Their skin was pale, just as pale as those animals out there,” Roy threw a hand carelessly to the east. Everyone knew he referred to the land outside of our compound, but you could see the skiddish, nervous glances at the wall. These people lived in fear every day, never knowing if today would be the day that the walls would fall, and we’d become victim to those…things. But Roy’s stories gave hope to the people that had been without hope for so, so long. That’s why no one really called him on his tall-tales, unless they immediately conflicted with what ZORT was attempting to accomplish. Today, I saw no problem with his fairy tale, and even allowed myself to relax and imagine a different kind of world.
“They had chunks missing out of their flesh, too! Just like those animals,” Roy spat once again on the last word.
“How did he meet these…things?” Someone in the crowd asked.
Roy eyeballed the general direction which the question had come. “I s’pose that’d be a good startin’ place, huh?” Roy chewed on the inside of his lip long enough to make the crowd start to fidget. “Well, there was Hank. In the middle of a swarm of zombies. He had given up fighting for his life, just was trying to get the rest of his team out of that hell. Once everyone that could be rescued was safe, Hank put his gun to his head,” Roy demonstrated the motion with his fingers. “And just as he was about to pull the trigger, something caught his eye! At first he thought it was just a zombie falling from the sky, but then he realized there was no where for the thing to fall from!” The crowd’s attention intensified, no one wanting to miss a single detail of the events.
“So Hank put down his gun and watched as the first of these…these… things fell closer to him. Then the light shone just right, and he saw wings! He says they was the color of gasoline when the light hits it. Ya know? That metallic-rainbow-purple color?” The crowd nodded, enthusiastically. “Just like that when the light hits ‘em.” Roy puffed out his chest. “Then Hank says the thing was flying right at him. He didn’t even have time to kill himself, he knew he was gonna be one of them winged zombies. But the remarkable thing is, it didn’t go for Hank, it went for the zombie that was about to rip Hank’s arm off. And it just started eating on the bastard.” Roy paused as the crowd processed this information.
“Then a second winged zombie came. And a third. And a fourth. And as they came, Hank realized they wasn’t zombies at all, they was angels. Each one of them angels ignored Hank and just ate on the zombies. It was a true battle, Hank says. Demons against angels.” I let Roy’s words sink in. A world where everything is balanced, is that possible anymore? Where for every negative there’s a positive? Where angles could counter demons? It was too good to be true, but it was a nice thought in itself.
“And when them angels were done, not a single zombie stood. The angels were gorged, and covered in blood and gore of their own, they even had chunks missing from bodies. They looked just like those zombies. But Hank says after seeing what they did, seeing how they saved his life, he can’t think of a more beautiful being.” A long pause interrupted Roy’s thoughts. “And then they just flew away. Just like they came in, light reflecting of their gasoline wings. Heaven’s saints.”