The Stripers

          “Something’s not right,” Michael told Lizzy, frowning as he looked out the front window.

           “What do you mean?” she asked, walking over to him.

           “Tina is always in her rocking chair on the porch at this time of day. It is one of her strange rituals,” he explained. “She isn’t there today.”

           “Maybe she’s sick, or something came up,” she said, glancing across the street at the empty rocking chair. “It’s no big deal.”

           “Tina sits in that chair no matter how she feels, bundled up and coughing her head off. You know how she is. Same thing, day after day. She never strays from her routine.”

           “Maybe she’s dead,” Lizzy said, looking at him.

           Michael turned to her, astonished. “This is not a joke. Something is going on in this town.”

           “Oh no!” she cried. “Not this again. You are starting to sound like a paranoid lunatic.”

           “I am not paranoid. You are just blind to what is going on. Wake up, Lizzy,” he said, walking over and sitting down in the recliner.

           “So, you think she was kidnapped? Abducted?”

           “How long have we lived in this town?” he asked with a stern look that worried Lizzy.

           She thought back to the year they had moved there and counted. “It’ll be twenty years next year.”

           “Let me ask you this,” he said, standing up and walking back to the window.

           “Fire away,” she said, wondering whether him being out of work for the last two weeks was getting to him.

           “Before the newcomers arrived a couple of years ago, how many people had moved out of this pleasant little town?”

           She started to think it over, then suddenly stopped. “This is crazy,” she thought. “Has he gone off his rocker?”

           Michael put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “How many?”

           “I don’t think anyone did, but I don’t know everyone here.”

           “Give me a break, Lizzy. You are a socialite. You know everyone here.”

           “And how many are gone now?”

           “I want to say four families have moved away.”

           “Did you see any moving vehicles?”

           “No, but…”

           “No buts, Lizzy. We might have missed one or two, but all four packed up without anyone noticing. Not in a town this small. And they all disappeared after the newcomers showed up. Now Tina, too. These are the kindest people around. They would have told all of us they were moving. And even though I am no socialite, I know none of them had any interest in leaving this town. Especially Tina.”

           “For crying aloud. Go over there and see if she is home. It creeps me out that you think the newcomers have something to do with their disappearance.”

           “They are some kind of cult. And what is with all of them having a white stripe on the side of their head?”

           “I don’t know, but some of them are kinder than the others in town.”

           “I lost my job soon after they came.”

           “Is that what this is all about?” Lizzy asked, sitting down and shaking her head.

           “In all the years we have lived here, no one ever left. Then people with stripes show up. Weird. And one by one, people are gone. The Stripers, as I like to call them, bought the church in the middle of town, and I swear they all go there twice a week.”

           “They’re very religious.”

           “Have you ever walked by the church when they’re all in there?” he asked, starting to pace back and forth.

           “Once or twice.”

           “Did you hear those strange sounds? I have never heard any other religious group make such bizarre noises. And they lock the doors.”

           “I don’t know what to say,” she replied, throwing up her hands. “Why don’t you just go over and check on Tina?”

           Michael stopped pacing and looked at Lizzy for a moment. Something was going on, but she was too naïve to believe anything he said.

           “Wasting my time,” he mumbled, and he headed out the front door.

           He walked across the street, up Tina’s driveway, and onto her porch. He went to the door and knocked. She had a doorbell, but she did not like anyone to use it.

           “Knock, please,” she had told Michael more than once.

           When close to a minute had gone by, Michael knocked again.

           The door opened, and there was Tina with a wide, eerie grin.

           “Hello, Michael,” she said in a pleasant voice. “How nice of you to visit.”

           “Hello, Tina. Just stopping by to make sure all is well. Usually, you are sitting in your rocker.”

           “Oh,” she replied, looking at the rocker. “Not today. No interest. Would you like some milk and cookies?” she asked with her wide smile.

           “No, thanks. I am lactose intolerant.”

           “Sorry to hear that,” she said, glancing back into her living room.

           Michael looked at where she was staring and could see someone’s leg. He looked back at Tina as she turned to face him again. He could have sworn he saw a white stripe on the back of her head.

           “Would you like to come in?” she asked.

           “No. No, thanks,” he said, thinking the whole situation was odd. “I’m going to head home.”

           “Okay. Have a wonderful day,” she said, and closed the door.

           Michael hurried back to the house and slammed the door shut.

           Lizzy jumped up from the recliner and saw the worried look on his face. “What is wrong? Is everything okay? Was she there?”

           “She was there,” he said. “Someone else was there, too. But the most shocking thing of all is that Tina had one of those white stripes on the back of her head.

           “Oh,” said Lizzy, considering this. “She must have joined their church, and that is a requirement. I suppose if they are not killing anyone, no harm, no foul.”

           By the look on Lizzy’s face, Michael knew she did not believe everything she had just said.

           “I have an interview in Lowerville tomorrow,” he told her. “After I’m done, I think I’ll check out the homes for sale there.”

           “Do not be ridiculous, Michael. We have always loved this town.”

           “I did, until the Stripers came. Tina was there, but she was not there. Like one of those possessed people you see in horror movies.”

           “You’re taking this too far,” Lizzy said, turning and heading toward the kitchen. “I am going to make dinner. You find a good comedy for us to watch.”

           Michael went over to the recliner and sat down. He turned on the TV and scrolled until he found a funny show, but he did not pay attention. He knew something was not right in this lovely town. He had had feelings like this before, and they had turned out to be right.

           “I’ll make your favorite meal!” Lizzy called out.

           “Sure!” he responded.

           There was little talk for the rest of the evening as they ate dinner and watched shows. When they went to bed, it did not take long for Lizzy to fall asleep, but Michael lay awake.

           “I need to stop thinking,” he thought after checking the clock for the fourth time. “I have an early interview.”

           Eventually he fell asleep, and to his surprise, he still woke up early. He cleaned up, got dressed, and went over to his sleeping wife.

           She worked at a small shop in town that did not open until late morning, so she was able to sleep in.

           “Heading out, my love,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.

           She mumbled something incomprehensible as he left.

           He drove through the middle of town, and passing the Striper church sent chills through his body.

           “We need to leave,” he muttered. “I hate to, but this town is infected.”

           Michael had his interview, then drove around Lowerville for a while before heading home. There were a couple of houses for sale that interested him. Now he just had to convince Lizzy to move. Telling her he had a good chance of landing a job that paid five dollars more an hour should help. He hoped.

           When he got home, he grabbed a snack and a drink and sat down in the recliner. Judging by the time, he had close to five hours alone before Lizzy came home. He turned on the TV and watched a movie, then started another and fell asleep partway through.

           When Michael woke up, it was starting to get dark. He looked at the clock on the wall and wondered why Lizzy was not home yet.

           “She should have been home an hour ago,” he said to himself.

           He was about to get up when the front door opened and his wife walked in.

           “Hello, honey,” she said with a wide grin. “I’m home.”

           “You’re in a cheery mood,” he said, settling back in the recliner. An eerie mood, he thought.

           “It was a fantastic day,” she replied, her grin seeming to widen.

           “Did you cut your hair?” he asked, noticing it now ended above her shoulders.

           “Yes,” she said and twirled around.

           Michael’s eyes widened in shock when he saw the white stripe on the back of her head.

           “You have become a Striper!” he cried out.

           “Yes, indeed!” she exclaimed. “It is the greatest decision I have ever made. Serving them will be such a pleasure.”

           “What?! To serve them? Have you gone insane?”

           “You will love it,” she said with a laugh.

           “Love it?!” he shouted, jumping out of the chair. “You’ve gone crazy!”

           Lizzy’s smile turned into a pout. “You would have loved it,” she said.

           “Would have loved it?”

           A moment later, something struck him on the back of the head, and everything went dark.

           When he came to, he slowly sat up, groaning, his head pounding. He looked around and realized he was inside the Striper church. Near the altar stood a couple of glass cases. He had to blink a few times before he could believe what he saw inside them.

           “Are those heads?” he asked, slowly standing up. “That looks like Sheriff Clark and Mrs. Cooper.”

           “Hello, Michael,” a pleasant male voice said behind him.

           He turned around and saw a group of the Stripers.

           “What the hell is going on?”

           “You are here to decide,” replied a man with a white stripe on both sides of his head.

           “Decide what?”

           “Whether to join our clan or to please the gods.”

           “What?! I do not want to do either. Where is my wife?”

           “She is performing her duties. Now, do you wish to join our clan?”

           “No.”

           The man’s face twisted into a grin that stretched from ear to ear. “We are pleased with your answer,” he said.

           Suddenly, his arms were seized from behind in an iron grip, and he was spun around and forced toward the altar. As he was dragged up the steps, he saw more cases behind the altar. Many of them held heads—the heads of people who had disappeared.

           “Our gods are pleased with the heads of humanity. We are blessed by your sacrifice.”

           Michael looked to his left and saw a large figure with no face walking toward him. It held what looked like an axe, but with the longest blade he had ever seen.

           “It will be quick,” said the Striper who had spoken before. “We thank you.”

           “You are evil!” Michael cried out.

           “No. Once the pagans convert, they realize we are peaceful. Only those who refuse are truly evil.”

           Michael was forced to his knees, his head pushed down. There was a quick whoosh, and they all cheered.

           “Soon they will all convert,” the Striper said.