Reeves rode the old Motus MST bike alongside with the Mustang while the two Jamaican bikes were taking the lead in the open wasteland road. Joe glanced out at his dust-covered face that looked intense—and he knew that Reeves was in deep thoughts.

Joe was glad that he was part of the cell-group who will be absent from the eminent path of pogrom death in the New Orleans’s battlefield like the rest of his Wesleyan friend who will be there soon. He knew that Reeves wanted Marlin badly to be with them—even though Joe was not keen that the duo had intended to take off together ever since Reeves had been quite attached with the newfound friend who was only known to them for a mere month—Joe agreed that Reeves was over-trusting ‘an unknown angel’ as Troy said to him in one of the blathers they had behind the backs of Reeves and Marlin.

All the vehicles were heading towards a desert sandstorm that was building up ahead on the road to California.

*

Eight hours ago, Reeves stood and watched the members of the council congratulating Wu Leong for winning the sniper votes in the Council of 13’s tent—Ramirez jokingly cognomen that Wu Leong was a Lee Harvey Oswald kind of successor who was destined to take out the President of The United States soon.

Doran came from Reeve’s back and tapped his shoulder, “Come, walk with me.” Li Chi noticed Doran and ‘Jensen’ pacing out of the tent. They both strolled outside the desert camp while other Intersexuals were in potter, seeing their leader promenade with the one named Jensen.

A group of Wesleyan boys were scorning among themselves about Reeves because he now amounts to nothing to them after losing the vote to be the first-choice sniper in New Orleans—Kiki-boy was among the disgruntled ones who continued to badmouth ever since Reeves gave up his opportunity to be a member inside the Council of 13 to represent the whites. It was the worst decision ever made that had resulted with the educated and egocentric Wesleyans having to take orders from their ‘redneck kins’ under the new OGA white-leadership of Russell Collins.

“I am really glad that I did not win just now,” Reeves spoke out his mind and the Preacher smiled back…

“My vote was for you, Reeves—and you are more suited for the task.”

“Thank you but I am glad to disappointing you—because I just can't do it—shooting cardboard targets are fine but I don't have the stomach to kill anyone any more—even though I did take some of them out during the T.C. breakout, but it was different then.” Reeves was being honest about himself.

“It will come.”

Reeves raised his voice…

“No Doran, I don't fucking want it to come! Maybe I am not cut out to kill another person any more, have you ever thought about that? Cut us loose, let my friends and I go. Just get those Jamaicans off our backs and we go our separate ways.”

Doran looked at him, “yes, I know you have told me in the past in prison that you want to search for your mother. Even your friend Marlin came to me recently wanting to leave for some personal reason—but I denied him too because we will live a day longer if we all stick together as a communion.”

Reeves was more annoyed now and scoffed at the priest-monk…

“What are you saying, man? Cory is waiting for your holy-ass to walk into New Orleans and she is going to ambush you all there—and look here, Doran, many of your followers are going to be killed over there tomorrow!”

“Then what do you expect me to do, Reeves—sit around here? The Snake-woman knows where we are and she can drop a bomb over here anytime and wipe us all out as she did back at Tombscradle. She wants us all to come out hunting and not to be hunted at this very moment...

“Yes, now she is offering us this fairground for a battle in New Orleans and we are going to take it—and we are going to fight her hard, right to the end!”

Reeves stopped walking and pointed back at the monk of the imminent dangers ahead…

“You are a fool, she is gonna outwit you with all the firepower that she got—and you don’t have a fucking chance to stand up against her?”

Doran looked at Reeves and he laughed…

“We will overcome her and we will trample her down because God is on our side!”

Reeves was really bothered by his simpleton ethos and perverse response—and especially thinking that the Preacher was using his devout beliefs as a defence mechanism to rationalize all of his present frail actions just as in the past—and with his evangelist move of implementing a mass attack on New Orleans based on his impeccable Hand of God credence that would intervene and lift his so-called glorious God’s rebel soldiers to their significant victory…

Reeves also recalled the heterodox Wesleyan rucks who used to ridicule behind Doran as the ‘Mad Monk of Tombscradle’ for obfuscating his extreme sermons preaching of divine angels from the biblical rapture prophesy—and about demons walking on the face of the earth as clouts of women—the zealot Preacher then touted the upshot of their death during their insurrection cause that will be rewarded with the promised path to the awaited heavenly utopia with their God.

“I bet the voices told you that too, right Doran?” Reeves scorned back at him. Doran now smiled widely and started to walk away back to the tents saying...

“Go to California, Reeves, go continue and complete God's Will over there—do it for our brothers—and may God be with you always!”

The Preacher left the arrested atheist speechless behind—leaving him no choice but to obey.

*

The vehicles’ headlights beamed dull in the clearing dust—Reeves' team strived out of the desert sandstorm cloud at the purlieus Arizona-California state border.

Escaping alone at this point will also result in his friends to be massacred by the Jamaicans. He was in a titular position in leading a mission without any options—other than to obey the Preacher’s given orders.