arrived. Now she would see that he had been right the whole time. She’d hand over the hospital Afflicted and then leave. Not that it mattered, they’d be sloughing off this foul city as soon as Juliana passed anyway. He didn’t much care where Ruth went, as long as it was away. He smiled and said, “That’s not necessary Ruth. I assure you we’ll take good care of him. We can get him safely out of his bindings—” The words shriveled in his mouth as Ruth raised the gun in front of her. Father Preston didn’t even have time to understand what was happening. The boy was dead, his head dark with blood, the silver cart rolling farther from them.
A woman behind the priest screamed. He just stared at Ruth. He had expected her to give in. It wasn’t supposed to end that way. She had rules , damn her. Even she had limits. He’d counted on it, driven her to them on purpose. A chunk of asphalt flew past him and hit Ruth’s hip with a thunk. He didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Another rock sailed past and hit her in the back and she turned to flee. A crawling burn formed in his gut as she disappeared. It mushroomed into fury and finally broke his paralysis. He turned around. Most of his Congregation had run off, chasing Ruth down the street. But the new convert, Gray, was watching him.
“She’ll kill the rest,” Gray hissed, “Our community can hardly thrive without the Zom— I mean, the Afflicted, Father. We have to stop her before she takes more innocent lives.”
It had been a mistake to tell her about Juliana. He was convinced her friendship was the only thing that restrained Ruth. But Juliana had pushed him out, left him with no alternative. He couldn’t let the hospital fall into Ruth’s hands. It was his calling to minister to the people left in the city, all of them, the sick and the well. He had been released, recalled from madness to perform this holy work.
He knew better than Ruth or Juliana what the Afflicted experienced. He knew the good the morning readings must do. Locked in their insanity, the Afflicted could not ask for guidance, but they would remember it when at last they were cured. He had. He remembered everything. How a word or act of kindness, though it fell upon a man blind and deaf with rage, was now the sweetest medicine for his spirit, something he looked back upon with all the relief it ought to have created at the time. And the guilt of his own violent actions drove him to amend, to repair, to strive to forgive. He could not abandon his Afflicted brethren to someone who didn’t understand, who had no faith in a coming cure. He couldn’t let Ruth have them. Anything, even violence, was preferable to that.
“Father?” whined Gray, “have you forgotten your flock?”
Father Preston shook himself out of his dark thoughts. “We must get to the hospital first. Juliana won’t be so willing to have Ruth stay there once we tell her what has happened here. Don’t worry, Brother Gray, the Afflicted will know salvation yet.” He smiled and the man ducked his head in agreement. “See how many of our people you can round up,” Father Preston continued, “I will go have a talk with Juliana. In the meantime—” he glanced at the shopping cart, “bury the boy. And destroy this place of evil. Salt the earth beneath her. I don’t want Ruth to have anywhere to come back to when I’m finished. I want her out of this city for good.”
Gray’s face split into a slow smile and Father Preston felt a slick worm of doubt twist in his gut. He ignored it and began walking toward the hospital, rehearsing the story he would tell Juliana.
Chapter 8
Nella stood on the edge of the station platform. Frank held a hand up to her. She took a deep breath and hopped down with his help.
“Only four stops, okay? Then it’s just a few streets over.” He smiled and handed her the lantern. She flipped it on as they reached the steep hill that plunged out of the daylight and into the cool, damp throat of
A woman behind the priest screamed. He just stared at Ruth. He had expected her to give in. It wasn’t supposed to end that way. She had rules , damn her. Even she had limits. He’d counted on it, driven her to them on purpose. A chunk of asphalt flew past him and hit Ruth’s hip with a thunk. He didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Another rock sailed past and hit her in the back and she turned to flee. A crawling burn formed in his gut as she disappeared. It mushroomed into fury and finally broke his paralysis. He turned around. Most of his Congregation had run off, chasing Ruth down the street. But the new convert, Gray, was watching him.
“She’ll kill the rest,” Gray hissed, “Our community can hardly thrive without the Zom— I mean, the Afflicted, Father. We have to stop her before she takes more innocent lives.”
It had been a mistake to tell her about Juliana. He was convinced her friendship was the only thing that restrained Ruth. But Juliana had pushed him out, left him with no alternative. He couldn’t let the hospital fall into Ruth’s hands. It was his calling to minister to the people left in the city, all of them, the sick and the well. He had been released, recalled from madness to perform this holy work.
He knew better than Ruth or Juliana what the Afflicted experienced. He knew the good the morning readings must do. Locked in their insanity, the Afflicted could not ask for guidance, but they would remember it when at last they were cured. He had. He remembered everything. How a word or act of kindness, though it fell upon a man blind and deaf with rage, was now the sweetest medicine for his spirit, something he looked back upon with all the relief it ought to have created at the time. And the guilt of his own violent actions drove him to amend, to repair, to strive to forgive. He could not abandon his Afflicted brethren to someone who didn’t understand, who had no faith in a coming cure. He couldn’t let Ruth have them. Anything, even violence, was preferable to that.
“Father?” whined Gray, “have you forgotten your flock?”
Father Preston shook himself out of his dark thoughts. “We must get to the hospital first. Juliana won’t be so willing to have Ruth stay there once we tell her what has happened here. Don’t worry, Brother Gray, the Afflicted will know salvation yet.” He smiled and the man ducked his head in agreement. “See how many of our people you can round up,” Father Preston continued, “I will go have a talk with Juliana. In the meantime—” he glanced at the shopping cart, “bury the boy. And destroy this place of evil. Salt the earth beneath her. I don’t want Ruth to have anywhere to come back to when I’m finished. I want her out of this city for good.”
Gray’s face split into a slow smile and Father Preston felt a slick worm of doubt twist in his gut. He ignored it and began walking toward the hospital, rehearsing the story he would tell Juliana.
Chapter 8
Nella stood on the edge of the station platform. Frank held a hand up to her. She took a deep breath and hopped down with his help.
“Only four stops, okay? Then it’s just a few streets over.” He smiled and handed her the lantern. She flipped it on as they reached the steep hill that plunged out of the daylight and into the cool, damp throat of
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