Sanctuary
Page 21
“That’s unfortunate, sir.”
Wrinkles appeared at the sides of the colonel’s eyes. They might have once been considered laugh lines, but in this case, it was pure stress instead of mirth which caused them. “A great misfortune. But as scientists and soldiers, we must learn all we can about our enemy and destroy them. So, please, tell me what you can about your attack.”
Hugh recounted the story for the colonel. The colonel’s eyes grew narrow when Hugh talked about Jennie’s act of faith as the method for walking through the crowd.
“I’d heard a report from a lab technician which corroborates your story, but I still find it hard to believe.”
“It’s true, sir.”
The colonel rubbed his chin. “You are aware that the pastor died, are you not?”
Hugh’s heart sunk, and he whispered, “Yes, sir.”
“It seems hard for me to believe that a man of the faith could not do what this one young woman accomplished.”
Hugh shrugged. “You’re right, sir, and I cannot explain it.”
The colonel shook his head. “I know for certain that I cannot ask a group of soldiers to have faith and believe in something without proof. I don’t know that we could use this new knowledge to our advantage.”
Of course not. Hugh nodded, but a ping of disappointment pricked his heart.
The colonel’s wooden chair squeaked. “Regardless, I’d like to hear your account of the affliction. Do you have many memories of your time in that state?”
Pain pulsed at the back of Hugh’s head. Although he knew this interview would head in this direction, he wasn’t completely ready to explain. “Yes, sir, I do.” He swallowed before he continued, “I remember almost every aching minute of it. It started like a fire at the attack sites. Like an infection or fever that spread over my whole body. My joints ached and swelled like I had advanced arthritis. But as the time passed, all my outward senses dulled to the point that I could feel almost nothing but the pain. I could hear nothing but my own screams. I think most would rather die than remain in that state.”
If it hadn’t been for Jennie, Hugh feared he would have lost his own will to live. He focused so completely on her and his need to make it back to her that it gave him something other than the pain to occupy that miserable time.
“I see.” The colonel’s chair groaned when he leaned forward and propped his elbows on the desk.
Hugh stared at his Converse sneakers; there was nothing else he could think of that would help the military or even science.
“Do you think it would help to give the afflicted pain medication?”
“Honestly, sir, I believe it would make no difference.”
A frown deepened the wrinkles around Colonel Wesley’s eyes. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?”
“Not that I can think of, sir.”
The colonel nodded. “Then you may be excused.”
“Yes, sir.” Hugh rose to his feet just as droplets of rain splattered against the window panes.
The colonel turned back toward the window and offhandedly said, “It has rained a little each day for the full five days you’ve been in isolation. Typical Virginia summer, even if we don’t have the heat.”
The blood drained from Hugh’s face. He gripped the edge of the desk and leaned forward. “Sir! Have the Shisa attacked again?”
The colonel narrowed his eyes. “No, they haven’t.”
“Has anyone even seen them?”
“None of the bases here on the peninsula have been attacked, although all three had reports of Shisa on their compounds the same day as our attack. Why?”
“I think I may know one of the aliens’ weaknesses. It’s so simple.”
“Out with it, Harris. If you know of a way to keep our men safe, don’t keep it to yourself.”
Hugh swallowed hard. What if he was wrong? “I think it’s the water, sir. We know the Shisa avoid the rivers and bodies of water, but whenever it rains, they seem to run for cover. If I’m right, then it’s the reason we haven’t experienced another attack.”
The colonel blinked. “Water?”
Hugh nodded. “Scientifically, it makes sense. The aliens attacked our water supply—it might be possible that the contaminant they added was not meant to poison us but to make the water useful for them. They attacked our sun, which in turn would interrupt the evaporation cycle on earth, making it rain less often.”
“You wouldn’t be able to tell that around here lately.”
“No, sir, you’re right, but in the long run, it would be true. Check with your scientists.”
The colonel rose to his feet. “Do you think the water could destroy them?”
Hugh shook his head. “I don’t know, but it might at least keep them away from the bases and allow us to have true safe zones from the Shisa.”
“That would at least be something.” The colonel stuck out his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Harris; your observations have been very helpful. If you were a military man, I’d have to look into upping your rank.”
Hugh smiled and accepted the man’s hand in a firm shake. “I’ll take that as a compliment, but really, I’m just happy to be here…to be alive.”
The colonel smiled. “I bet you are.”
HUGH FOUND WALKING UP AND down the few porch steps around the base was the most agonizing torture for his aching joints and muscles. How long would it take for him to recover? His weak muscles complained when he approached the church steps. With a deep breath, he readied himself to make the climb when Jennie and Mickey rushed through the propped open door of the church. He winced and braced himself for the tackle, but Jennie had stopped her brother on the bottom step.
“What’s wrong?” Her grey-green eyes were clouded with worry.
Hugh shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m just not fully recovered yet.”
“So you’re in pain?” Her voice cracked.
“Not much,” he lied.
She tilted her head and studied him. Then, she pushed herself under his shoulder like a crutch. “Let’s get you inside. We’ll put you on the couch in the rectory. I’ll go get us all something to eat, and we’ll just let you recover here. I think you’ve walked around enough today.”
Hugh smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder while he gripped the railing with his other hand. The need to take care of her had kept him going when he was infected, but now, she was taking care of him. He breathed in the aroma of her hair as they reached the top step.
Somehow, he hadn’t noticed the pain of climbing the stairs.
HUGH GLANCED AT JENNIE, AS she spoon feed Mrs. Crawford the last of the chicken noodle soup she’d gotten from the mess hall. The woman’s glazed eyes watched the line of refugees that moved in and out of the propped open church door. Mickey stayed nearby, playing with a matchbox car on the floor.
Together, the four of them had become a makeshift family. It was better than living alone, and Jennie made it truly worthwhile. With a smile, Hugh put a blanket in the bottom of the box in front of him.
“You's the pastor?” the nearly toothless old man asked, stepping into the chapel.
Hugh placed the last of the folded shirts into the box for the man in line and shook his head. He was used to hearing this question at least four times per day. “No, I’m afraid not.”
“Where be he then? I gots to tell him sumthin’.”
“I’m afraid the pastor has gone on to be with the Lord.”
“Then I's a guessing you be the one to give this message to.”
Hugh nodded again and waited while the man took a deep breath and widened his eyes. It smacked of a baseball's player wind-up before giving a fast pitch.
“Five months. That’s how long the demons be set ta roam the Earth, says the Lord. After that time, you be his chosen ta find the opening and shuts it.” The man chewed on his gums harder than a cow chewing cud and pointed at Hugh with a bony finger.
Hugh waited a moment, watching the morning sun shine through t
he chapel doorway. The man who stood behind the skinny old one shrugged his shoulders. Hugh returned his gaze to the old man. “Me?”
“You.” The old man nodded with finality, crossing his arms over his chest.
“But I already told you, I’m not the pastor.” Hugh wanted to laugh, but the message gave him the chills.
“This here's the church, right? You be a ministering the Lord’s flock. In my book, you's the pastor. And the Spirit inside me agrees.”
Hugh shook his head, but his brain was already doing the math. If it had been six weeks now since the monsters were released, it would still be three and half months until the door was shut. Where would he start looking? He narrowed his eyes at the man. “Five months?”
The man nodded and picked up the box of clothes. He turned on his heel and started for the chapel door. “Five months,” he yelled back.
“You’re not taking that old man seriously, are you?” a man in line asked.
Hugh shrugged, but his mind wouldn’t let it go.
###
REVIEWS
If you enjoyed this story, please take a moment to write a review on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Goodreads. By sharing your feelings in a review, on your blog, on Twitter, or with a friend, you support this author.
Find Pauline Creeden online:
http://paulinecreeden.com
Like on Facebook
Or Follow on Twitter
DEDICATION AND THANKS
Thanks to my husband who is always there for me,
and the many people who read my short story and demanded that I write a book for it.
Thanks to my stalwart beta readers,
Missy Lee, Randy Streu, and Alexia Purdy.
And a special thank you to my editors,
Sheila Hollinghead, Emerald Barnes, and Kessie Carrol.
Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
REVIEWS
DEDICATION AND THANKS