Uncertainty

  “The church is just down the road,” Naomi said, kicking the doors to the hospital open. She closed her eyes, trying to piece together the shards of the memory from that day. “South of Judith…” She murmured, her eyes fluttering open as she turned right, walking down the road. Mike and Ami followed suit, letting Naomi lead the way to the church. Ami looked somewhat distant, more than usual. Mike saw this, almost uneased by Ms. Laughs-a-lot not grinning.

  “You okay?” Mike asked. Ami’s eyes widened, her eyebrows raising.

  “Hm? Yeah! I’m okay!” She said, smiling again. “I just… never really liked churches.”

  “Are you not Christian?”

  “Not really. I’ve never been one for religion.” Mike understood her thoughts. He never liked religion either.

  “Me either.” Naomi said, looking over her shoulder at the two. “My sister was a Buddhist. I, however, never cared for it, especially now… can you even say there is a God when the world is like this?”

  Ami tilted her head, her curls falling with it. “How do you know it’s the world and not just Beauview?”

  Naomi looked back at the road ahead, looking around. “I sure as shit hope it’s the whole world. I’d be pissed if the sun decided to stop showing up here of all places.”

  After a few minutes, Naomi stopped in front of a building. It had certainly seen better days. Mike tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “I think I used to go here as a kid…” He softly said. Ami turned her head, an eyebrow raised.

  “You went to church?”

  “Not by my own will.”

  Naomi stepped forward, testing the door. Surprisingly, it opened. The inside was empty, almost untouched. “Hm.” She stepped inside, hand hovering on the handle of her katana as she looked around. Mike and Ami followed, looking around the place. “Someone’s tidied this place up.” She said, brushing her fingers against the altar. No dust.

  Mike opened the door to an office off to the side of the cathedral. He only took two steps inside, before–

  Click.

  “Woah there, buddy! I wouldn’t move if I were you.” Chuckled a voice from behind. He held a 1911 to Mike’s temple. “I mean it, I played college ball, y’know?”

  “I think a gun and a ball are two different things–”

  “Shut it!” The man hissed. He walked around Mike, revealing a tattered varsity jacket and an untrimmed mullet. His eyes widened as he saw Mike’s face “Well shit… Newstead! I’m surprised you haven’t hung yourself by now.” Mike took a deep breath, staring ahead.

  “Jackson.” He muttered.

  “Man… I’ll give it to ya, you figured out how to glue your pubes to your chin! But you’re still a wimpy willow shitsack of a man.”

  Ami noticed Mike being held at gunpoint, she rushed over, knife drawn. She almost got close before Jackson took notice and pointed the gun at her. “Ah! Stay right there, ‘sista’.” He smirked. “You and Mike huh? I knew he liked playing in the–” Mike thrusted his fist into Jackson’s stomach, making him keel. Mike threw another punch, but was shoved against the wall, gun pressed to his stomach. “You little fucker!” In an instant, Ami wound her fist back and punched Jackson, sending him tumbling over the desk. Mike stared at the incapacitated Jackson, before looking at Ami with a mix of shock and awe.

  “You know him?” She asked, chest heaving. Mike nodded.

  “High school bully.” He replied. “Do I even have to say he’s a piece of shit?” Before Ami could answer, loud yelling emitted from the cathedral.

  “Get the fuck out of here! Get out now!” Mike and Ami rushed into the previous room, seeing an elderly man, wearing a green military coat and box cap, holding a rifle pointed at Naomi. Mike rushed over, standing between the old man and Naomi.

  “Woah, woah, hey!” He said, holding his hands up to try and ease the man. He didn’t seem keen, still aiming the M16 at him.

  “I told you to LEAVE!!” He yelled. A woman, wearing a faded nurse scrub, emerged from the back of the room, rushing over to the old man.

  “Dad, no! We can help these people!”

  “We got enough trouble as it is!”

  “They don’t have to stay, they might just need help–”

  A gunshot rang through the church. Jackson stood in the doorway to the office, pistol aimed at the ceiling. “Dammit, Jackson! What are you doing?!”

  “Setting your damn senses straight, old man!” Blood leaked from his nose and forehead. He approached the old man, looking at Mike and Naomi. The woman hesitantly reached for the rifle, gently taking it from her father’s hands.

  “Dad, please...” She whispered. The old man clenched his jaw, struggling to accept his daughter’s wish. Regardless, he obliged.

  “What’re you here for, son?” He asked, his voice way kinder than before. Mike was uneased by the tone switch, but answered.

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  “We're just looking for help... allies.” The elderly man nodded, thinking.

  “I see…” He softly said, scratching his head. “I… I’m sorry for the hostility... Things have been rough here.”

  “Yeah, for you.” Jackson butted in, prompting a stomp to the toe from the woman.

  “I’m Joseph Hopeland… this is my daughter; Samantha, and this is Jackson Fairfield…” He adjusted his box cap, taking a deep breath. “We have another in the shelter...”

  Sam spoke up, a soft smile on her face. “C-Come with us! We’ll let you stay, at least for the night.” Ami shook her head, the smile on her face spelling Oh you poor thing.

  “Sure, we’ll be out by sunrise.” Ami joked.

  Tensions somewhat eased over the next couple hours. The shelter was somewhat spacious, definitely enough for them all. Still, the trio remained in an isolated room, not keen on splitting for now.

  A knock on the door grabbed their attention, revealing Sam with a tray. Three cans sat there, with a spoon for each. “I thought you guys might be hungry. Don’t tell my dad, he’s always jumpy about food.”

  Mike watched Sam set the tray down, the cans of corn steaming fresh. “Well, are you guys running out?” He asked, taking a can. Sam shrugged.

  “No. Not yet.” She muttered. “Canned food drive. Meant for the poor children in Beauview.” She folded her hands in front of her, looking down in sorrow. Naomi noticed something about her and pointed.

  “Your eyes… they’re different from your father’s.” She said, Sam’s eyes widened slightly.

  “W-What do you mean?” She softly said. Naomi stood up, looking closely at Sam’s face, almost a little too long. She shook her head, sitting back down and taking one of the cans.

  “Never mind.”

  Sam stood stunned for a moment before nodding and walking out the door. Ami’s smile widened as she looked over at Naomi. “What was that?” She asked. Naomi shrugged, taking a bite of the canned corn.

  “I thought I saw something for a second.” She muttered. Ami snickered, seeing through the thin veil of an excuse.

  “Did you really~?” She teased. Naomi side-eyed her, still eating her food.

  “You’re annoying, you know that?” Naomi groaned.

  “You did look at her a little long.” Mike added, fighting back a smirk.

  “Just like how you were looking at that Lenore guy?” Naomi retorted. Mike’s brows furrowed.

  “The guy looks funny! I dunno what those weird things around his head are… worst part, the fucker doesn’t talk!”

  In the main room of the shelter, Joseph sat at the table and rubbed his eyes. Lenore, Sam, and Jackson sat there. “What’re we gonna do…?”

  “About those three?” Jackson asked, leaning back in his chair like he has no care in the world. “Fuck ‘em, I say. They’re just passerbies. They don’t leave, we kick ‘em out and leave ‘em for dead.”

  Lenore, a pale, white-haired person piped up, “We can’t do that, it’s not right to-” Jackson stood abruptly, slamming his hands on the table.

  “Listen, Pope Benedict. We got enough mouths to feed here already! We’re not just gonna welcome in some groupies while we’re rapidly draining food and water!”

  “Then why don’t we go look for food and water?! I told you, I’m an Angel! I’m capable of–”

  “Shut up, you little tutu-wearing–”

  Joseph slammed his fists against the table, shouting, “Shut up the both of you!” Jackson and Lenore looked at Joseph, both wide-eyed at the old man’s outburst. “I’ll make a decision myself. Me, and me alone! Now shut the hell up!” Joseph breathed heavily, calming down. He stood, his prosthetic leg clicking as he straightened up. “I’m going to sleep. Lenore’s in charge until I wake up. Don’t rip each other apart.”

  One by one, everyone in the shelter went to sleep.

  Lenore was sitting in the main room, sleeping with their head up. They fell asleep whilst on look-out, and didn’t notice the mix of black fog and sand gathering low to the floor, inching to Joseph’s room.

  In the other room, Lenore awoke when they heard a loud splintering sound. Following the source of the sound, they opened the door, seeing Joseph sleeping peacefully… too peacefully. They walked over to the side of the bed. His eyes were closed, but his skin was pale, almost like their own Angel skin. Then it hit them… he wasn’t breathing. Lenore panicked, immediately thinking of doing CPR on Joseph. They pulled the covers down, only to be met with sand. A pile of sand, resting below his head.

  Lenore let out an anguished scream, falling to the ground and scrambling back against the wall. Joseph’s head rolled off the bed, eyelids falling open and blankly staring at Lenore. They felt tears already running down their cheeks. How did this happen, Lenore questioned in their head as they could only focus on the grim scene.

  The door busted open, Jackson rushing in with Mike following faintly behind. “Lenore? The hell is–?” Jackson’s eyes widened, immediately falling on Joseph’s head blankly staring at Lenore. “What happened here?!” He exclaimed, kneeling next to the Angel. They only trembled and whimpered, their breathing ragged and shaky. Mike looked upon the scene with wide eyes. He looked over his shoulder, seeing Naomi, Ami, and Sam in the main room.

  “What happened? What happened to my dad?!” Sam asked, her hands to her chest. Mike looked back at the head, feeling as if Joseph was staring right at him.

  “He’s… he’s dead.” Said Mike. Sam’s eyes widened, her breathing hitching and coming out in slightly choked gasps. “I don’t know how… but–” Mike was cut off, knocked to the ground as Jackson tackled him.

  “It was you! Newstead! I knew you were an evil little fucker!” Jackson held Mike down with one hand, the other forming a fist and repeatedly striking Mike in the face. Ami rushed to help, but Jackson drew his 1911. “Not a step closer! I figured you would learn to be polite to a man with a gun by now.”

  Ami’s eyes widened at his words. She took another step, defiant against him. “What did you–”

  BANG.

  Sam shrieked at the gunshot. Her, Naomi, and Mike watched as Ami stumbled back, shot in the head. She wobbled for a moment, her legs shaking before she lifted her head, her eyes wide and her breath heavy. The bullet was lodged in her forehead, blood leaking from the wound. It should’ve been a kill, but it wasn’t. Ami was still living.

  “What the fuck?!” Jackson exclaimed, cocking the gun and aiming, but Mike regained his strength, pushing the gun away from pointing at Ami. The gun went off again, the bullet hitting the concrete wall. Mike rolled himself and Jackson over, quickly striking at Jackson again and again and again. It was only until thuds became squelches that Mike stopped.

  It was silent for a moment, but it felt like ages. Mike slowly stood on shaking legs. Everyone was staring at him and Ami, the scene bloody and violent. Everything was spinning around Mike. Joseph’s death, Ami’s resistance to it, and beating Jackson to within an inch of his life.

  How did it get here?