Fragmented Morality

Ch. 9

We had hoped she was in there, but maybe it was for the best that she wasn't. The tent was a pocket of the most potent, putrid smell I had ever smelt, and that was no place for anyone to be, let alone a child.

While we had been subjected to that kind of stench for months, it was never quite as bad as it was when we were in close contact like that. The only other place smelling quite this bad was the CDC. The highway was also bad, but at least it was in an open space.

Even so, nothing would have been better for her than when she was with me. She was never truly safe without one of us beside her, keeping a watchful eye out to prevent the worse from happening. Yet, she was nowhere to be seen.

Bells sounded from far off in the distance, the kind that came with a church and a steeple, the kind that filled people with hope when they were at their lowest and didn't know what to do. I wasn't the kind that believed in god, in fact, I believe I would have been worse off for wear if I had believed there was someone in the world with the power to prevent all the bad from befalling my family, but didn't.

Even so, even the most stubborn person turns to religion when they are met with hardship, making it all too believable that Sophia had heard the loud sound ringing through the woods and followed it to safety.

I had a sick feeling about it- it didn't feel promising to me, but I couldn't stop the thread of hope I clung to as though it were a lifeline. That's why, when the group took off sprinting in the direction of the bells, I wasn't going to let myself be left behind. If she was in there, I would be there to protect her the rest of the way.

I was not going to let the worst happen, not if I could help it.

My legs burned, and I would have liked to say the trees blurred from the speeds at which I ran, but it was all just wishful thinking. The trees were blurry for another reason entirely, one that was far too closely related to my health for comfort.

The healthier, fitter, less malnourished of us ran ahead, followed quickly by everyone else, and then me. I tried so hard to run. I pushed myself forwards and forced myself to breathe, taking one step for every three of everyone else's, if I was optimistic. It was clear I was falling behind, but I wasn't going to stop.

One step at a time.

I shouldn't have been kidding myself, maybe I had rested heaps since the CDC, but there was no way I was taking the distance 'one step at a time'. It was more like trying to run with a tire tied to my waist and sandbags strapped to my legs. I was sweaty and gross, I'm sure it was painful to watch.

Even when the church came into view and there was no steeple to be seen, it didn't stop us from making our way towards it immediately. Just because there was no bell, didn't mean she wasn't there. It didn't mean she wouldn't be nearby.

Soon enough, the red doors were right in front of us, the only thing separating us from the inside.

But she wasn't there.

The place was old and abandoned, without any living inhabitants since the beginning when everyone tried to flee. The only things inside were a statue of Jesus on a cross and some corpses trying to get in their Sunday prayer.

Comical, really. God had failed them in life and then again in death, yet they spent their days gazing upon their lord and saviour who was sent to die for their sins. For what? This? It was pathetic and made me want to scream. It was all a sick joke.

The bells were fake. The church goers were dead. Sophia was lost.

If Jesus died for the sins of his people, who looked out for the innocents? She never did anything to deserve an ounce of what was dealt to her, and still, she continued to go through so much.