"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9"
This is the verse that Pastor Bruce Ashcroft finds himself repeating on a daily basis to himself. When the uprising started, he was in the middle of a rather moving sermon (in his humble opinion) when a member of his faithful congregation leaned over and took a bite out of his neighbors shoulder as if he were a thanksgiving turkey. Now, there was no doubt that Pastor Ashcroft had seen many a startling thing in his 37 years of service, but this was most certainly new. But what was even more startling was when missus Ashcroft come stumbling into the church, having been dead for at least two years. She wasn't much more than a rotting corpse. A hungry, rotting corpse, he decided, as it was her turn to take a bite from one of God's faithful servants among his crowd. Mercifully though, he was spared any further horror as he fainted, crashing to the ground with a thud. When he resurfaced, he found his beautiful church was spattered with blood and guts and many, many corpses. Upon further inspection, he realized only a few of these corpses had been sitting in the pews recently, the vast majority of them had been laid to rest. Well, he thought it was to rest, the scene before him however didn't appear to be very restful. It didn't take long for a young gentleman, very much alive, (or so he hoped) led him to a pew that seemed to be spared the worst of the brutality, saying something about him needed to rest, lest he faint again. Our dear friend, the pastor, would soon learn that a plague had infected hundreds, thousands, billions, actually, and all at once all over the world, the dead, as well as a vast majority of the living, had risen and begun to feed on the flesh of their uninfected comrades, thus infecting the ones unlucky enough to live through the horror. Over the next year and a half, Pastor Ashcroft would come to abandon many things; such as his aversion to guns, his church, the corpses of many whom he once called a friend, oddball groups he joined over time, his ways of roaming, even his will to live at particularly low points, but never ever his faith. He clung steadfast to it the whole time, and to hear him tell it, that's what kept him alive, kept him sane in all this madness. It's also what kept him quiet at this moment, and allowed him to stay positive. You see, this moment could be deemed the most climatic of his life. For some time now he had taken shelter in another church, hundreds of miles from his hometown. There he continued to immerse himself in his bible, in his faith as the war between the living and the dead waged outside the church walls. He preached the Gospel to all who would seek shelter there, and provided said shelter for all who gathered. Very few stayed long term however, many found it hard to live among his endless optimism and unwavering faith in God, but that was alright. The bible never said it would be easy, in fact it said that it would be hard, and that few would listen, but he still held steadfast and allowed himself to be the hands and feet of Jesus, no matter the cost. And make no mistake, there was a cost. He couldn't count how many times they had been robbed or held at gun point as lost people demanded their supplies, as if they wouldn't give them freely. There were numerous times that a particularly cruel sinner would let loose a zombie among the survivors, wiping a good many of them out. Sometimes it was hard for him to remind his self that they were just lost sinners, trying to make a way in the hellish world beyond those doors, that they needed love too. But throughout this all, his faith held steadfast. Sometimes he would find himself slipping, and would pray for a miracle, something to remind him that God had not abandoned them after all, like many of his visitors seemed to think. But every single time, those miracles would come, some times in the form of a medic wandering into their place of worship, offering his or her services, or in the form of the small toddler they had all grew so fond of would bring him a friendship bracelet made from sunflowers, and ask if she could make God one too. It was one of those miracles he prayed for now, harder than anything that he had ever prayed for. Because now, he can hear the pitiful shuffling of a rotting corpse moving its way through the church. One of the newest members had been bitten before they arrived and had yet to tell anyone, probably out of fear they would be turned away, (which is absolutely preposterous, God loved every one of his children, as did Pastor Ashcroft, he would have found a way to help the poor soul) until it was too late. The smell of blood and rotting flesh was overpowering, but they were trapped. There were two that had managed to escape the zombies ruthless, unforgiving teeth, and that would be the preacher man himself and the young toddler they had all been so fond of, one of his God's many, many miracles. Before long, the preacher come up with a plan, which he conveyed to the tearful girl cowering behind him. "When I say go, you run little lady. You run fast and far, and don't stop. I will be right behind you. And don't forget about God, he is who keeps you safe. Remember Joshua 1:9, Be brave because God is always with you, everywhere. Promise me?" when the wide eyed girl nodded, he whispered go, running after her to the best of his ability. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with the girl, he even knew that that was probably the last time he would ever even see her. And as the hungry creature behind them took notice of his escaping lunch, Bruce Ashcroft prayed what must have been the hardest prayer of his entire life. "God," he called out in his mind. "Protect that little girl, lead her to safety. You promise to be with us everywhere we go, keep that promise now. Linger in her mind till the end of her days, guide her to someone who will raise her in your word, as I was. Keep her safe, no matter the cost, even if that cost is my life Lord, as your humble and faithful-" Although we can guess, we will never know how he would have finished that prayer, as our dear friend fell to the ground. Heart attack, a doctor would have concluded, in a different life. But I suppose that doesn't matter now. Now no doubt in heaven, I'm sure our old friend is thanking God- truly- for the little mercies in life, the last one that God gave him being that he was dead before the Zombie took its first bite.
