Adam was still waiting for him at the gates, jigging impatiently. He hustled Sam through and along a road broken up by a series of armed checkpoints. Sam knew from experience that most people coming through here would be checked for disease, too. This was one army base that was taking its security and the spread of contagion very seriously. There was no way he would’ve got through this checkpoint without Adam — especially armed as he was. The soldiers all looked at him curiously as he walked past and it was no wonder. He was, after all, a bit of an oddity. A tall, athletically-built youth, still with his hood on and armed to the teeth with swords.
Some of the soldiers saluted as they went past. At first, Sam failed to recognize the importance of this and then it occurred to him to ask.
“Are you an officer?” he said to Adam, turning slightly towards the older man as they walked.
Adam nodded. He pointed to his collar. “See this?” Sam could see a golden oak leaf on each collar. “I’m a Major now. When you first met me, I was only a Captain. I got promoted on account of everyone else being dead or elsewhere. Hence the saluting.”
“I didn’t know,” confessed Sam.
“That’s because you never asked.” The expression on Sam’s face must have become even blanker than usual because Adam slapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t exactly volunteer information. I think the only thing I told you was that I was in the special forces. That bit was true. I didn’t mention that I was retired though.”
Sam nodded. All true of course. Adam wasn’t the sort of person who would ever lie to him. He was just a bit like him — not very communicative. That was probably why Sam liked him so much.
“So what happened?” asked Sam. “You know, at Black Ridge?”
Adam grimaced. “Long story. I’ll tell you later. Right now, I think someone wants to see you. Then rest, shower. I’ve got a meeting scheduled with you and my C. O at 0800 hours.” Judging from the light, Sam guessed it to be between five and six am, the dull light causing him to squint as his eyes were quite sensitive to light.
They were walking past a long barracks hall when Adam stopped abruptly. “I’ll leave you here. Go right on inside, and meet me later at the command center.”
Before Sam could ask any more questions, Adam turned his back on him and strolled off. Sam watched him retreat for a while and then shrugged. He was pretty sure why Adam had left him here.
The barrack was one of many identical structures that were ubiquitous on any Army base — long and low, its construction simple enough that a platoon of soldiers could probably set one up within hours. Sam could see several just in this general vicinity although this one was more familiar than the others.
Entering through the main door, he found himself inside the sleeping area. Cot after cot was laid out, all neatly made with a blanket at the end of each bed. Every single one of them was empty except for one. Sam almost didn’t notice at first and then a familiar mind tone intruded. He yanked his neck in that direction.
Sitting on the bed at the far end of the barracks was a figure that Sam knew at a glance was female. The curve of the hip and shoulder simply couldn’t belong to a man. The long dark hair he recognized, tied back behind her neck but still achingly familiar to Aimi’s. He knew without doubt that it wasn’t hers. It was Grace’s hair.
On suddenly slightly awkward legs, he made his way towards her. He’d not made the slightest noise so Sam was taken off guard when she suddenly turned towards him when he was only a bed’s length away from her.
“Hello, Sam. Welcome back,” Grace said, not quite managing to look him in the eye. Sam took her appearance in with a glance. She couldn’t be older than eighteen or nineteen, but she looked older than that — more weary and lined, with deep scars on her face. More ugly scars were evident on her exposed arms. But that was understandable. She’d been through far more than any other teenage girl could ever be expected to go through, emerging somewhat altered from what Sam remembered. She’d always been a little bitter and angry but this was something else. Something that Sam almost felt a kinship with.
“Hi, Grace.” Neither of them made a move, even though they hadn’t seen each other for months. Grace had once been slightly tactile towards him but those days were long gone. Sam didn’t mind too much. His personal space had already been violated once today.
There was a long, slightly uncomfortable pause. “So. How did it go? Did your rescue work out or did they get dragged off to Hell?”
Sam remained calm, not willing for this scene to get ugly. He wouldn’t allow her to bait him. “I got them,” he said. “Or most of them.”
“Oh,” she said, raising one arched eyebrow and smirking. “Lose a few in the process, did you? That must be hard. Like you’re not in enough trouble in Heaven. I don’t think they’ll ever let you in if you keep allowing people to be taken. It’s not much fun in Hell.” Her expression turned bitter. “I should know.”
Even though he’d saved her, she’d never let him forget that he’d not only allowed her to be taken in the first place, but he’d left her to rot in Hell for months after. It was not like he blamed her either. He did feel like he’d failed her somehow. He knew he’d done his best for her, but his best had not been good enough. That was why he didn’t allow her barbs to anger him. If he was going to get angry at someone, it should be himself.
“One of them died from the plague. Then I found us a truck. An Astaroth came out of the sky and grabbed one from the back.”
Grace nodded as if expecting nothing less. “Have you seen Adam yet?” she asked. Sam was surprised. He was sure that she’d milk his failure for a bit longer yet. It was positively diplomatic of her to change tact so quickly. Maybe she was having one of her rare good days.
“Yep. He met me at the gate. Probably saved my life. The guards are even more trigger happy than usual these days.”
“Do you know where he’s been all this time?”
Sam shook his head. “No. He’s going to tell me later. I have to go to a briefing in the command center later.”
She shrugged. “Fine. Some of your stuff is still in the locker down the back there. I suppose you want to wash some of the ash off you. After that, we can go and get some food and talk about old times.” Sam could hardly bear to see what approximated a smile on Grace’s face these days. At least she was trying though. There was no doubt, however, that their once strong relationship was now strained. They hadn’t seen each other for months, almost like they had been avoiding contact. Often when Sam returned from a mission, she’d be gone, conveniently out on patrol. Her time in Hell had taken its toll. She would never really forgive him for taking so long to rescue her and he’d never really be able to forgive himself either.
Sam took her advice. He found his old towel and some soap in the locker. The shower cubicle was big enough to hold ten soldiers, making Sam experience an odd feeling of exposure as he soaped himself down. It was very pleasant to have a shower though. He hadn’t had one in weeks and it was good to wash away the accumulated grime, dirt and ash and blood. If only it could do the same for his guilt.
These days, this place was the closest he had to home. A base of operations, though he hadn’t been here since he deposited Grace there years before. Like Grace, the commander, Colonel Wheat, knew of his half-demonic nature. Now that Adam had arrived, they were the only three on the base that did. Both Sam and Colonel Wheat wanted to keep it that way, too. It worked to the benefit of both of them. Sam often had some survivors in tow, like now, or good intel that the Colonel could use in future operations. Sam liked to work alone in any case. He didn’t plan to give the Colonel too many details in case the man insisted that they mount a proper operation. The Colonel would’ve argued (Sam had to admit — probably rightly), that this nest of demon worshippers was too big and too well established for just one man — or half man — to take out by himself. In this case, he’d almost been right, too.
Sam stayed under the warm deluge f
or several minutes, luxuriating in so much water. He didn’t have to worry about using too much. The base was sitting on top of a massive underground spring of unpolluted water. That was one of the reasons why this place had been a prize worth keeping when so many other bases had been lost or abandoned almost without a fight. The top brass realized that the survival of those who had been left behind depended on a secure base with access to plentiful resources. Beightler Armory provided that. Not only that, but it was well stocked with weapons. The only thing it really lacked was more soldiers but new recruits, just like the ones that Sam had rescued, were coming in every other day.
Regretfully, he dragged himself from out of the shower and toweled himself off. As he was finishing off, Grace came in and leaned causally against the door frame. He was slightly shocked by such behavior but then, Grace had seen him naked before. That had been accidental. This was deliberate. He tried to cover himself up but thought he detected admiration in her gaze as it wandered over his sleek hard body, lingering on the various scars that he’d accumulated over the years. There was not an ounce of fat on him. Periodic access to food, relentless training and activity had ensured that his body was comprised only of lean muscle.
“So how many?” she asked, dragging her eyes back to his face.
“About a dozen,” he managed to reply, instinctively knowing what she was talking about.
“Where were they?”
“Caged like animals. Some demon worshippers had them. Using them like cattle.”
Grace nodded grimly. Sam saw her fist clench. They shared a common hatred against demon worshippers. He’d taken her out on a mission once where they’d uncovered a similar but smaller nest. Sam hadn’t much enjoyed her expression as she’d killed every one of them she could. She’d smiled when she did it too.
He turned his back on her and finished drying himself off, then dressed quickly. Lastly, he toweled his hair dry, enjoying the pleasant sensation of having his hair exposed and clean. He put his hood back up and then strapped on his swords.
Grace watched him the whole time, but stayed silent, probably thinking about demon worshippers and what she’d like to do to them.
“Ready?” she asked eventually. Sam nodded and followed her out of the barracks and over to the mess hall, a good five minute walk away. They walked in silence which was absolutely fine with Sam. He really didn’t feel like talking.
The mess hall was not too dissimilar to a barracks building, but about twice the size. Inside, about thirty or so people sat at tables scattered about the large open space. Sam heard his stomach growl when he caught a whiff of the food bubbling in the large pots at the serving counter. Although he didn’t need much food, eating — like having a hot shower — was one of those rare pleasures that he looked forward to.
Currently, there were only a couple of people queuing up to be served. The cook, dressed in what had once been a white apron but now looked as grey as the ash outside, was stirring a pot without enthusiasm. Ignoring the stares from the other diners, he and Grace marched up to the counter, grabbed a tray and a plate each and received two boiled potatoes and a ladle of stew. It didn’t look like much, but as they took their places at an unoccupied table, Sam felt his mouth watering.
Without preamble, he tucked into his food. The potatoes were overcooked and dry and the stew lacked flavor. To Sam, it was delicious. Sometimes, he found himself craving rice but he knew that it was a crop that was just too thirsty, needing a great deal of water to grow — probably more than the base command could justify. The meat was unrecognizable but Sam suspected it was goat, given that most of the meat on the base was. Grace only picked at hers but then again, she’d probably eaten it every day since he’d been gone.
He finished and wiped his mouth carefully with a napkin, thinking about seconds. Grace’s was almost untouched and he eyed it greedily. When she saw what he was looking at, she pushed her plate at him with a tiny grimace that could’ve been the hint of a smile.
She waited patiently while he shoveled it into his face. “So. What do you think Adam and the Commander want to see you about?” she asked when he had finished for the second time.
Sam shrugged. “No idea. Adam seems to think it’s important. Why don’t you come and find out for yourself?”
She sneered at him. “Me? I’m not important around here. What makes you think I’d be allowed in some important meeting. Most of the time, people forget that I actually exist.”
“I don’t,” said Sam quietly, unable to meet her eye, looking down at his almost empty plate.
She muttered something under her breath that even Sam, with his exceptional hearing, couldn’t quite make out, but he got the impression that this appeased her slightly.
“So, have you heard about the church services?” she asked finally.
Sam shook his head, the last mouthful of food crammed into his mouth making it impossible to speak.
“You knew there was a chapel on the base, didn’t you?”
Sam nodded. Of course he knew. The church hadn’t been desecrated, so it was useless to the demons. Presumably, either demon worshippers or other agents had missed the one on this base — probably because the base had never been taken. He’d been there a few times but hadn’t dared enter the place or even the grounds for that matter. He wouldn’t take the risk. It was the first church he’d come across which still had the power to hurt him. And that was the sort of pain you didn’t forget in a hurry.
“Well,” she said, smiling contemptuously, “it seems there’s been a great rush of religious fervor going around here recently.”
Sam finished his mouthful and wiped his lips with a napkin. “What do you mean?”
“A few grunts have been going around spreading certain rumors.”
“About what?” Sam demanded.
“That if you repent now and welcome Jesus into your heart, you’ll still be saved and not spend eternity in Hell. Those that ask for forgiveness during the Tribulation will be spared when Jesus returns. That’s all the people around here care about now.”
“I think there’s more to it than that,” said Sam. “Before the Rapture, none of these people believed in God or Jesus. But how can they not now? They’ve seen it with their own eyes. They witnessed the Rapture. Have been preyed upon and stalked by demons. Some might have even seen angels. Everything predicted by the Bible is now coming true. How can you still be in denial in the face of that proof?”
Grace snorted dismissively. “They may have said the words, but it’s only for their own self-preservation. Would you want to spend the rest of eternity in Hell?” She paused and looked at Sam slightly askance. “Well, maybe you’re not exactly a great example.” Sam smiled wryly at that.
“So anyway,” she continued, “the word is that if you say the right things or perhaps make yourself a martyr, He’ll forgive you when you die or get taken to Hell and eventually you’ll be allowed back into his kingdom — whether it be in Heaven or on Earth after Jesus returns.”
“So you aren’t going to welcome him into your heart?” he asked.
Grace looked at him for a moment before answering. “If Jesus is so good, why did he take my parents and leave me all alone in the world? Why did he allow everyone else I’ve ever known, including my aunty and uncle, to be taken to Hell to suffer endless torment? Is that the sign of a good and caring being? I don’t think so. You probably should reconsider as well. It’s alright for everyone else to redeem themselves and be forgiven but not you. It doesn’t matter what you do, you won’t be welcome in Heaven or in his Kingdom on Earth.”
Sam shrugged, not willing to get into this debate, primarily because a part of him agreed with her and it touched a raw nerve. Despite everything he’d done, everything he’d suffered and given up, he would never be allowed into Heaven. And he was one of the believers. He’d saved many innocents, just like he’d been instructed to do by the Archangel Gabriel. And his reward? Probably eternal suffering in Hell. Sam knew this was unfair but
had resigned himself to it years ago. It didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt though. It was an open wound, which had a tendency to fester more and more these days.
“You should see them,” smiled Grace. “Piling up in the church. Standing room only. Most of them spill out into the grounds. I don’t know how they can hear the soldier-turned-preacher up in the pulpit. The hospital is almost as bad. You’d think God saved them and not the antibiotics.” She shook her head sadly.
“Wouldn’t it be easier for you just to accept Him rather than go through all this resistance?” he asked.
“Who?” she asked innocently.
“You know who,” he said. “Don’t be difficult. Do you really want to spend the rest of eternity in Hell when you can avoid it? You, more than anyone else around here, know what it’s like.”
Grace suddenly lent forward, her face intent, lips pursed. “You think you know me, don’t you, Sam?” she hissed. “But you really don’t. You’ve never bothered to ask. If you had, you’d know that my parents were do-gooders, true believers. Went to church every Sunday. They tried to make me read the Bible but I wouldn’t. Didn’t want to. It seemed pointless to me. And you know what? After a while they gave up — gave up on me. Left me to my own devices. Why didn’t they try a little harder? If they had, I wouldn’t have been left here all by myself. They must have known what could happen. Did I really mean that little to them?”
“I’m sure you meant everything to them,” said Sam, meaning every word. “It sounds like they tried but you were…stubborn.”
Grace sat back. “You’re not making me feel any better.”
“I know and I’m sorry. But are you really going to be so stubborn that you’ll allow yourself to be taken to Hell again when all this is over? I know you’re angry, but there are limits.”
She shook her head. “Not for me, there aren’t.”
“Don’t you want to see your parents again?”
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