A Depraved Blessing

by D.C. Clemens

  Chapter Sixteen

  Faith

  By morning, the news had spread throughout all the camp of our vile visitor in the river, imparting a disquieting ambiance across the entire haven. Liz, my mother, Delphnia, Bervin, and Dayce used the early light to seek some sort of comfort in the makeshift Spirit Temple made for the refuge. Siena and Valssi stayed by their mother’s side, as she was not yet recovered from the excruciating hours she underwent before the journey. The rest of us were left with the singular purpose of devising a new route to embark on should we need to leave the town.

  Due to our fuel situation, pushing farther south did not seem particularly welcoming. Going too far southward would lead us to the boundless Tridad desert, and with the hot season only starting, the outcome did not look promising. Nonetheless, if I was traveling alone, it would have been my choice. Heading east or west meant crossing densely populated towns and cities, likely meaning the chances were higher that travelers would bump into the invaders. But with family to take care of, we were forced to take resources into account, something a desert did not have much of. In the end, east won. The direction would take us to the coast, where we hoped to catch a ship that would take us to a safer region. We decided to head for a town called Ryse, residing about 350 miles southeast from our current position. Despite the highly populated area it was surrounded by, it was fairly isolated, anticipating that meant less competition for aid.

  Throughout the next couple of days, the whirling turbines of helicopters and planes were almost continuously heard over our refuge. They kept coming in groups and they were moving north, but what lay there, I couldn’t know. Four days and three nights had come and gone and I dare say there almost became a sense of normalcy. Obviously, not the normal I used to know, but of a new kind; a kind I could get used to if I was assured safety and supplies. More northern refugees joined us in the afternoon. With them came updates. According to their accounts, the military was left with no other option but to destroy many of the bridges over the river to keep the infected at bay. To me, the most surprising news was hearing that the Tower in Iva City had gone. Apparently, three days had passed since it was last seen soaring into the sky with an unknown trajectory. Whether it was mere coincidence or something more, Injector assaults also largely ceased to the north. Some took this as a promising sign. I wanted to as well, but I couldn’t and didn’t. To me, this only signaled that their first phase was over, leaving me to wonder how many others there would be. However, I kept these thoughts confined within me.

  Later in the night, after wavering a few too many times, I finally entered the Spirit Temple tent. It had been years since my feet had last treaded a holy floor, improvised or not. I regretted it had to take a world changing event to get me to cross the threshold. When I proclaimed my faith and distress by entering, I saw the plain white tent did not do it justice. Liz told me how beautifully it was decorated—with short candles hanging throughout, low wooden pews, an indigo carpet elaborately embellished with flowing floral patterns, and how I should enter for that alone—but I thought it was said from the mind of a hopeful soul and anything resembling the credence of the Spirits would have made her say that. There were around ten people inside, less than I thought, more than I wanted, and some seemed to have looked to have been there for several days and nights consecutively. I sat in the corner of the room nearest the draped entrance, expecting not to be noticed. I didn’t know why, but I had never felt comfortable in a temple. My mother always said that I inherited the notion from my father, but I never knew what she meant by that. I was not sure what exactly drew me in that night. Was it answers? Respite?

  Minutes ticked by and I was getting nowhere spiritually, emotionally, or mentally. As I was ready to leave in defeat, I saw a form pass to my right, making the candles dangling low from the ceiling flick their flames. I felt the new presence taking a seat by my side.

  My wish to remain alone went unrequited when a soft spoken, but clearly masculine, voice asked me, “Having trouble sleeping?”

  With a little glance to the fringe of my vision, I saw the old-fashioned blue robes of a cleric adorned on a man about my age, but I somehow felt like a child sitting next to him. Perhaps that was the reason I didn’t relish entering temples?

  “I could ask you the same thing,” I replied to the questioner, still staring at the candles hanging in front of me. I noticed one of them in the center had a dimmer flame than the rest. It struggled to dance with the others.

  “I’ll admit, my sleep has been sporadic as of late, but I’m sure even the most devout of us can say the same thing.”

  “And how’s your devotion holding up?”

  He sighed. “It’s a trying time, but then I remember our world has faced difficult and seemingly insurmountable challenges before. Just in the last few generations we’ve seen severe droughts, plagues, great world wars, and yet, by the grace of our ancestors, we’ve pulled through every time, becoming stronger for it.”

  “You believe our ancestors can guide us out of this one?”

  “What do you believe?”

  “I was never one for worship or prayer, though I have always believed in the Spirits. I want to now, more than ever, but I have recently come to an unsettling thought. What if the Spirits do exist, but they’re not strong enough to guide us through this?”

  “Then we must remember the Spirits guide our souls and no enemy can take that away.”

  After a brief silence in contemplation, I asked, half in jest, “Do you know if someone can trade their soul for the safety of others?”

  Almost sternly, he said, “We must never become desperate enough to wish for such a thing, no matter how well-intentioned it might be.”

  “Thanks for the talk, but I better get back.” I stood up to leave. He raised himself up as well. It was here I perceived the center flame had gone out. “Spirits guide you.”

  “And you as well.”

  At first, I left the temple not feeling especially enlightened, neither better nor worse, but I didn’t give the Spirits and their mediators enough credit, for that same night, I slept a deeper sleep than I had in days. Not even dreams dared disturb me.