The Unwritten Sin

Chapter 39

The Ministry, with it's tall corner towers, stood like a safety beacon at the end of the road. The two sprinted as fast as they could towards the building, barefooted and stumbling. One of the alien ships had spotted them, and swooped low behind them, firing a laser along the road. Wilder pushed James to the side as they ran, and both tumbled to the ground, rolling along the cement that prefaced the Ministry. The enemy ship pulled up at the last second, narrowly missing the Ministry's main square tower.

"Get inside!" James screamed, as they ran across the smooth concrete towards the side entrance. The giant front doors had been barricaded, and dead bodies littered the steps.

James pulled open the wooden door to one of the quarters areas, and they bundled in, panting in the darkness. The sting of old carpet filled their senses, and the two of them collapsed on the floor for a moment, only holding one another. They could hear the gunfight going on outside, but for the moment, they were safe. 

James took several deep breaths, and then offered his hand to Wilder as he stood. Wilder took it, and they moved down the hallway, through the convent's quarters. All the rooms were empty. Door after door was open as they walked, and Wilder found it odd. "Why is there no one else here?" he asked. "You would think this and the Great Hall would be the safest places in the city."

"That's true," James said. "I don't know what must have happened." They went up the short staircase and into a larger room, where James had often held study meetings. While the rest of the city was being destroyed, the Ministry seemed oddly calm inside. The rooms were just as they had been left, with the carpets in place, and candles on the altars.

"Let's go to my quarters," James said. "We can get clothes there, and another copy of the book to translate while I can." He jutted his chin towards the basement stairs. "There is an arsenal downstairs too," he said. "Old fashioned I am afraid. But, you, or....Ness, will probably know what to do with them."" James flashed him a small smile. 

They went to James' quarters, and James opened his wardrobe and stood before it, letting the blanket fall to the floor.

"How is it these windows haven't broken?" Wilder mused, moving aside the curtain the peer at the horizon, and the ongoing firefight.

"Sometimes," James said, slipping into a robe and pulling his medallion out through the collar. "Prayer does work, Wilder." 

He shook his head. "You don't know how long I prayed for you."

Wilder returned his smile. James opened the doors to the wardrobe wide. "Help yourself, there's many different things to choose from."

"Oh," Wilder commented as he ran his hands along the fine wool and silks in the closet, "maybe put some pants on this time."

James grinned at him, and climbed into some woolen leggings. He layered on socks and stepped into a pair of sturdy loafers.

"Will you be able to run in those?" Wilder asked.

James nodded. "Actually," he said, "I used to go jogging for fun around the beach, you know."

"Maybe we can do that together some day," Wilder soothed him. "After this is all done."

"That would be nice."

"What should we do?" Wilder asked, as he climbed into warm leggings to match James, and wrinkled his nose at the selection of robes. 

"Not a man of the cloth, are you, Wilder?" James saw his concern. "There are other things in there, it doesn't need to be robes. Though, you would look good in them."

"I have no doubt," Wilder returned dryly. He settled on a thick blue longsleeved sweater and a pair of fingerless gloves. "I don't need the extra fabric getting in the way, anyway."