by Burgy, P. J.
“We all begin as outsiders, until we are invited in," he said.
“I’m not sure.”
“Service begins in ten minutes. There’s a bell. You can’t miss it. I would love to see you there.” He took a step away from her door. “I mean, you don’t have to. Just, think about it. Yeah?”
“Okay, Eli. I’ll think about it.” She eyed him. It was hard not to smile at his awkward, boyish expressions. She sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
“I know that you feel trapped here, Kara," he said. “I want to change that. I want you to feel like you belong. Like this is home. Like we are family. I know that I, I don’t know you that well yet. But I would like to, given the chance. I would really like to know you.”
She tilted her head at him, lips parted.
“Oh.” His cheeks darkened. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Not like, biblical knowing. No, I want to be friends. I want, I want to get to know you better, be closer to you, and I’m just going to stop talking now. I’m making it worse.”
She couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Biblical knowing, huh?”
“Oh, I have to go. I’ll see you, yes? Maybe?” He smiled at her, still blushing, and turned away. “Think about it. If not, it’s okay. There’s dinner afterwards, maybe we can… I’m going now.”
“Goodbye, Eli," she said, watching him walk away. He glanced back at her a few times before turning the corner at the end of the hall, disappearing into the dining area. She waited in the doorway, thoughtful, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
The hall was filled with people, their voices low but their demeanor friendly. While the majority were male, Kara did see quite a few women in the mix. She looked around, walking amongst them, aware of their glances. Conversations paused as she passed through, making her way to the other side of the great hall, walking around the long dining tables and bench seats. The UV lights hadn’t kicked on yet around the windows.
The sky was still bright and blue, and she peered outside. Again, she looked around the room, eyes searching for a thing she felt was missing. She saw men and women, some old, while others were just a bit younger than she was. They came in all colors and heights, though they were all physically fit to some degree. They had to be, didn’t they?
And yet, something was missing.
“Kara, it’s good to see you.” Father Isaac came up from the right and behind her. Kara turned to see him, and he held his hands out, palms toward her. His vestments were similar to the ones he’d worn while out hunting, though he wasn’t wearing his mask or the odd, tall hat. He wore his black frock, buttoned this time, and a priest’s collar. His slacks were black, his shoes shiny. “I was hoping you would attend the service.”
“Eli asked me,” she stated.
“Elijah cares for you. Quite a lot, it seems.” Father Isaac took a step closer to her. The others in the room were watching, though they were trying to look engaged in their own affairs. Father Isaac examined the crowd and then turned his attention back to her. “I wrote this sermon for you, Kara. That is why I am so happy to see you here. I wanted you to hear it.”
“For me?”
“It’s an important message, and it’s one that we’d all benefit from taking to heart.” Father Isaac leaned close. “I’m sorry that I cannot do more for you, I truly am. I know the pain that you feel in your heart, better than most. I want you to feel welcome here.”
A bell tolled and the others began to migrate as a herd toward the door to the far right of the buffet area, forced into a single file and silent. She noticed Father Isaac had not moved yet. He was smiling, studying her face with his calm, dreamy eyes.
She blinked at him. “I believe you.”
“I am glad to hear that," he said.
The missing pieces fell into place, and, just as Father Isaac began to follow after the crowd, she asked him a question. “Father? Why are there no children here?”
He stopped to regard her with another smile. “Until the city is cleansed and reclaimed, no child will be born in Salvation. We will begin anew when the time is right.”
“How can you control that?” she asked.
“We have, ah, how can I say this without sounding too puritan?” Father Isaac chuckled. “Well, I cannot find another way to say it, but we have laws in Salvation. Golden Rules, if you will. Certain behaviors are prohibited. I don’t think I need to elaborate any deeper than that.”
“Oh," she said. “That’s rough.”
“Tell me about it.” He winked. Father Isaac’s amused little smirk became a grin and he held a hand out toward the direction the last few members were traveling. “Why don’t we head to the chapel? I’m the last to enter anyway. We can go together.”
When the crowd had dissipated, she went with Father Isaac to the door.
He ushered her to take a seat when they entered the chapel, which turned out to be a large room, the original structure hollowed out to make room for the shape of their church. The ceiling was too high to be a natural part of the building, the wooden planks above them shaped like a steeple and painted gold. There was a pulpit on an upraised stage at the front and behind that a long altar.
Many rows of pews lined the room, all facing the stage. The room was almost as wide across as the dining hall. Candles burned like torches, fixed to the walls. There were windows, stained glass glued together like a mosaic painting, the colors random and wild. She realized that the light coming in through the colored glass wasn’t natural daylight, but electric.
The carpet was a patchwork of different shades of red, sewn together carefully to avoid snags or bumps. Kara felt her lips move into a grin when she saw Elijah up front, some thirty feet from her, near the pulpit and holding a candle. When he saw her his face lit up brighter than the flame burning on that little wick, and he smiled at her.
She saw that there was an empty pew directly beside her, the last pew in that row toward the back of the chapel. There were few others sitting near her, as most of the people had chosen seats as close to the stage as possible. They were bunched up, a claustrophobically packed flock of apt followers with raised heads and folded hands.
She watched Father Isaac walk through the center aisle, pausing to shake hands with his followers. The exchanges were friendly but brief as he traveled toward the pulpit. She happened to notice another familiar face not too far from where she sat, spotting Simon in the very back pew on the other side of the door, to her left; the entire quadrant seemed to be his. He was in the corner, sitting by himself, staring off into the distance, looking like a thin, dark stain on the white wall beside him. His shirt appeared to be a black, long sleeved number, buttoned up right to the collar.
“Blessings to you,” Father Isaac said, standing behind the pulpit.
The chapel echoed his words back to him.
“Good afternoon.” Father Isaac smiled, looking around at the faces before him. He looked to Kara and nodded to her before scanning the crowd once more. “Today is day five thousand, five hundred and thirty-seven. Five thousand, five hundred and thirty-seven days since I came to this city and began my good work. As I stand here before you, giving another sermon-I have not been keeping count of those-I find myself awestruck at the incredible, unbreakable faith of my flock. The determination to hold fast to the Word, and live each day in the glory of our Father. Blessings to you.”
The chapel echoed his words.
“I wrote this sermon earlier today with one person in mind,” Father Isaac said. “A woman with tremendous spirit, and insurmountable courage. Her heart is pure, and she is good, and trusting. That was plain to see, from the instant I first spoke with her. She has a light about her, she will not give up. I envy those traits. Envy is a sin, yes, but am I not human? Her strength is my deficit, and it is only in the presence of the light that darkness is cast back. She showed me something, she showed me where I could be a better man.” He paused.
“All of these years, and now it is shown to me. What a lesson to learn.
She is, well, spirited... that is a word for it. Our first meeting could have been better, I confess, I hope she forgives me, I really do. She may not know it, but she is already loved. She is already needed. Some of the hardest choices we've ever been forced to make involved the lives of those we love, or have loved, yes? Sacrifices are made, and it hurts. I cannot apologize enough, and yet, I wish I could somehow change what is and make it better without those sacrifices. Alas, I cannot. I hope only to be forgiven when enough time has shone light onto the path I have created.” Father Isaac paused again, placing his hands on the pulpit.
“It has been a long time since Salvation has welcomed a new face. Years now. Though, we have lost many of our own.” Father Isaac lowered his head. “Despite this, we have remained strong, united. Our faith has not wavered. Even in the darkest of times, we have stood together. We have not strayed. We would not allow fear to break us. When the Devil drew his veil across the land, sent his soldiers against us, we heard the call of our Father and in turn raised our swords against the demons. We knew what had to be done. Our mission. We were not afraid.”
Kara listened, watching his face as he spoke.
She glanced around the room then. His audience was enthralled, hanging on his every word. One or two were swaying in place, making soft sounds of agreement as they nodded up at Father Isaac. She did her best to get a quick count of how many Purgers filled the chapel and counted over one hundred.
“So, you are probably wondering what it is that I learned from this woman, this brave, tenacious soul, this stranger who I welcomed into our sanctuary. You wonder, don’t you?” Father Isaac went on, and he lifted a hand into the air, his eyes scanning the crowd as he addressed them. Many were nodding to him. “What could I possibly stand to learn, with all of my decades of life and experience, with all of my wisdom and strength of faith? With all of my knowledge?”
The audience waited, their rapt interest palpable.
“I learned that I still had a lot to learn!” Father Isaac said, and smiled again. “About people. About the world outside of this city. About what faith means to others. It’s been a long time since I’ve met such a spirit. We often look at ourselves as the crux of spiritual strength, our hearts true to our cause and our Father above, and so it never occurs to us that the Father works in mysterious ways. He sends strange angels to our door. What you may perceive is not always what is truly there. God tests us. It is not as the Devil tricks us, but instead a testament to what we hold as valuable to us.”
“This is a measure of our faith and love for Him. Another soul comes to us, their life precious to our mission. A stranger comes and we choose to open our door. From Hebrews 13:2, Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.' Do you see? We are not closed off from the world, my children. As we cleanse this city of tainted flesh, as we purge the evil from this place, we must know that we are not alone. We fight for something greater. Our doors must be open. Guarded, but open. We are not alone. We must never forget that. Blessings to you!”
His flock called out to him, repeating the blessing.
Behind Father Isaac, Elijah held his candle aloft.
“And now, for the Purgers’ Prayer. All together now.” Father Isaac raised his hands into the air, his entire congregation, save for Simon, standing at once, and when he began to speak the entire chapel filled with the voices of his followers, their words spoken in unison.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You shall lift me up, and strengthen me against my enemies. For the morning is to them even as the shadow of death: if one know them, they are in the terrors of the shadow of death. I will be Your divine sword, and You shall be my shield. Together, we shall push back the darkness, purge the lands of the wicked, and bring the new dawn. Amen!”
Kara saw how his congregation swayed as they chanted together, swept to and fro during their shared prayer. Taking a chance, she stole a glance over toward Simon again and saw that he was not as moved as his fellows. He was watching his father, his expression relaxed. The contempt that she had been forming for Simon sizzled up in her throat and she narrowed her eyes, studying his calm face. Then, he looked over at her and they locked eyes. She smirked at him, breaking away first to resume watching Father Isaac, who had lowered his hands.
“And now, for the sacrament. Participation is optional,” Father Isaac said, arms out. He turned to Elijah, who placed his candle on the altar behind the pulpit. Between the two of them, a cup and plate were brought forward and shown to the congregation, who bowed and swayed.
When the flock began to form a line toward the front of the chapel, she decided that it was a good time to leave. She stood up and shimmied out of the pew, doing her best to sneak away without being noticed.
Stepping outside into the hall, she sighed and found herself leaning against the plaster wall, hands on her hips. She’d hardly been there for a minute when she found herself looking over at Simon, who had suddenly joined her.
“I was surprised to see you in there," he said to her, his dark eyes moving across her face, down her throat, lower, and then returning to meet her gaze. “Elijah talked you into it, didn’t he?”
“I was surprised that I didn’t see you up front with him," she said.
“It has been quite a long time since I served as altar boy for my father.” He grinned oddly, his teeth bared. “No, I do other work now. What did you think of it?”
“A bit too much for me. I wasn’t raised to believe in devils and angels,” she replied, unwilling to step back when Simon stepped forward toward her. He was close, less than a foot away, looking down at her. She smiled up at him, her gaze cold. “But your father is very charismatic, I’ll give him that.”
“Not the service. My work. What did you think of my work?” he asked, tilting his head. “You went to see the abomination in the cellar, and I didn’t think to wait around for your opinion. I really want to know.”
“Huh.” She stared up at his face, lips pulling back across her teeth. She broke eye contact to glance away, just for a moment. Sucking on her teeth, she nodded, and then locked eyes with him again. “Is that what you came rushing out to ask me? Wow. You’re skipping your church snacks just to flirt with me. I am flattered, Simon, I really am, but you’re not my type. You see, I like men.”
Simon’s smile twitched. Moving in, he gave her no wiggle room, her back against the wall. He pressed his palm on the plaster beside her head. “From what I’ve gathered from all of your crying and begging, you like ghouls. Do you love it? The damned husk of a dead man in the cellar? Do you desire a possessed corpse?”
“First of all, they aren’t dead. They’re Infected. You're thinking of zombies, idiot.” She straightened up, her face near his. “Second, I don’t owe you a damn thing. Not a word. Not a smile. Nothing. You’ve had it out for me since you first saw me. I don’t care why, but I’m sure your daddy wouldn’t approve of it.”
“Seems highly suspicious, don’t you think?” He leaned in close and bit his bottom lip, holding it captive while he searched Kara’s face. “A beautiful woman traveling with a monster, out in the night. She says she didn’t know, she says it over and over, and they believe her. They bring her in, welcome her into our home, our sanctuary. She cries for her demon lover, pleading for his freedom, pretending to be blissfully unaware of all of our comrades he has killed. For all we know, she was sent here by Meredith, the Mother of Evil, to destroy us from within. But, what do I know? I’m only the most tenured Purifier. I’m only the most experienced with the forsaken, and their lies.”
“Wow. I have nothing,” she said, feeling the heat radiate from his body. He smelled like sweat and spice. Grinning, she shook her head at him. “You’re completely mad.”
“I am not," he said, crushing himself against her. Simon’s lips brushed her cheek and he spoke softly into her ear. “They hope t
o convert you, but on the third day of your refusal, you will find yourself in a room right next door to your beloved monster. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that you get to watch him die, right before you do.”
“And if I accept, and join the Purgers? What then? Will we be wed?” Kara asked him, and then laughed. When he pulled back a few inches and stared at her, she pursed her lips and placed her hand on his chest. Her gaze took a long and languid trail along his face, down his body. She looked back up, feigning disappointment. “Never mind. I’d rather die.”
“You’d be blessed to have such a man as I,” Simon hissed.
“So that’s what it is,” she mused. “I knew it.”
Simon crushed against her again, his lips to her ear, one hand on her shoulder and the other close to her throat, his fingers splayed across her collar bones. His breathing was ragged as he drew back enough to touch his brow to the top of her head. Touching her throat, stroking her skin, Simon exhaled. His words sounded flat, dry, “You can’t know, you will never know, what horrors I have seen. Whatever world you came here from, it is nothing like mine. You have climbed down through Purgatory, and this is Hell. My father means to save you, as does my brother. They see potential. But do you know what I see when I look at you, Kara?”
“What do you see, Simon?”
“Death,” he whispered.
“I’ve been called worse,” she stated.
Elijah stepped out from the chapel, holding the candle. He turned to glance to the right, saw what was happening, and nearly dropped the glass of wax onto the floor. “Simon!”
Simon immediately released her, backing away.
The two brothers stared at one another before Simon took off, stalking down the corridor toward the dining hall. She watched the dark-haired brother’s hasty retreat and then tried to smile at Elijah. She didn’t have much time though, as Elijah was leading a procession, the entire congregation being released from the chapel right behind him. He waved them along, attempting to hold eye contact.
