Living Among the Dead

Moses - Salvation

Day 40

Moses sat in a chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He spread his fingers and looked through them, seeing The Preacher sitting across from him, holding his hat in his lap. The odd man was listening and looking at a woman who was currently speaking.

"Ever since I lost him, I just felt like there's been a part of me that's missing. I just wish I could've said bye. Ya know? I wish I could let him know I'm okay somehow." the woman softly spoke, sniffling in between words. Moses lifted his head slightly, covering his mouth with his hand as The Preacher nodded.

"Thank you for sharing Natalie. I'm sure it's difficult to express such feelings in front of us. But this should encourage the rest of you to try to share. We all lean on each other now. Especially in such dark times. The dead are rising back to life and the ones who are supposed to be protecting us abuse that power." The Preacher said to the group of people sitting inside the candle lit room.

"Thank you Preacher. Some of us have shifts to get to." one of the men in the group said, standing up from the circle. Moses did the same, along with one other person. The Preacher nodded and then made eye contact with Moses.

"I hope to see you all very soon. Our meeting is done for today. Great work." The Preacher said, smiling softly. Moses stared at the man as he stood up and walked over to the woman named Natalie and began to whisper to her. Moses shook his head and turned around, not wanting to be late for work.

. . .

Once he arrived at the outskirts of the safe-zone he saw a few of the soldiers standing around waiting for him. Slowly he approached them, keeping his eyes towards the ground as he did. Attempting to walk by them, Moses was stopped as one reached out and put a hand on his chest.

"Where do you think you're going?" the soldier asked, causing Moses to slowly raise his gaze. The soldier took his gun and slammed the butt of it into Moses' stomach. Clutching his stomach he dropped to a knee and began to cough.

"What the hell?!" Moses asked angrily, looking up at the soldier that hit him. Before he could react, he saw the soldier with his hand balled into a fist coming right for his face. Too slow to stop it, he was punched in the side of the head and fell over onto the ground. Moses' left ear began to ring after the hit and he found himself not wanting to get up. He lay there in the dirt and could tell the soldier's were laughing.

"Get up." one of the soldier's ordered, kicking Moses in the chest. Moses flinched in response and slowly lifted himself up.

"That was from Frank for refusing his offer." one of the other soldiers spoke up.

"What do I have to do today?" Moses asked, ignoring their comments and trying to fight off the pain of their hits.

"A lot. There's a truck that needs to be loaded up with crates. More holes need to be dug. Then the bodies need to be placed in the holes and burned. You're pulling an all day shift and might not get a break. So get to it. Or else." the third soldier responded. Moses began walking over to the large military vehicle, grabbing a crate of supplies along the way.

"Or else." he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he tossed the crate into the back of the vehicle and began walking back to grab another one. He stopped and saw there was at least a dozen of them and sighed. "Jesus." he whispered, grabbing another and beginning his long day.

. . .

Moses sat against a crate, breathing heavily. His body was exhausted, completely spent from digging holes, carrying boxes, and placing bodies into the holes he dug. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. The feeling of something small and wet landing on his forehead closed him to slowly open his right eye, and he saw snow slowly beginning to fall. He took a deep breath before slowly standing back up, feeling a tight pain in his lower back.

"Shit." he whispered, putting a hand on the crate. He remained hunched over as footsteps began to approach him from behind. "Time for another beating?" Moses asked, turning his head to the side.

"They really messed you up huh?" the voice of Elliot asked. Elliot, who was now his closest friend in the community, walked in front of Moses and leaned against one of the other crates.

"I get the pleasure of pulling an all day shift." Moses said, faking a smile. "Lifting crates into a truck. Digging huge holes, by myself, I might add. Then putting bodies into those holes. Do you know how many children I saw? Do you understand what kind of monsters these people are?"

"Yeah. It's pretty clear they're as bad as the things that are trying to eat us." Elliot said, shaking his head in disappointment. "We can change that though."

"Get the hell out of my face." Moses said, pushing Elliot's suggestion to the side quickly. Moses grabbed a crate and attempted to lift it, but the pain in his back was too much. He put the crate back down quickly and began to mutter swears to himself.

"Think about it. These people have all been going through the same feelings you have. Grief. Loss. Anger. Rage. But you my friend... you have it the worst."

"Thanks." Moses said, not being able to help letting out a small chuckle.

"I'm serious. No one is being treated like a piece of shit. Except you. They are all over your ass and wanting to make your life hell. People notice things Moses. They notice that you are strong and put up with that shit. Imagine if you were to fight back. You. The man who's dealing with everything. Those people would join you as quick as they could." Elliot tried to convince.

"And then we'll all get shot. We have no weapons Elliot." Moses said, putting his hands on his hips.

"Buddy, you start convincing people to help you, we can get into the armory. The supplies. We'd take control. We'd be in charge." Elliot said.

"Look. I gotta get back to work." Moses quickly interrupted. "I have a ton of shit to do and very little time." Elliot nodded and walked past Moses, patting his shoulder as he did so. Moses walked towards the pile of bodies, grabbing one and dragging it towards the hole.

While dragging it, the sheet that was wrapped around it slowly began to get tugged down. Moses made it to the hole and then looked back down at the body he had been dragging. Marcus' eyes were staring up at him. His dead best friend's skin was white, his eyes obviously lifeless.

Moses felt cold. Though it wasn't from the weather. It was from the inside. He felt a darkness slowly moving in, pushing out what little light he had in him. He continued to stare down at Marcus' body and shook his head. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the corpse into the hole and then walked back towards the rest of the bodies.

. . .

The door to the makeshift church was already open, with candles lit around the room. Moses stepped into the doorway, seeing the folding chairs set up to be facing the front of the room, where The Preacher sat. He was staring at the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. Moses got the uneasy feeling he was being expected.

"It's time." the Preacher spoke up.

"Time for what...?" Moses asked quietly, stepping into the tiny room.

"Ask what you came here for."

"You know?" Moses asked, stopping halfway into the room.

"Ask." the Preacher repeated.

"I want help." Moses said.

"With?"

"Everything."

"But what do you want most? What is it you want done or changed?" The Preacher asked. Images of Marcus being shot flashed in front of him. Harper. Frank. Ezekiel.

"I want revenge. I want to kill them. I want them to suffer like all of these people have." Moses quietly admitted. The Preacher listened, noticing the pain on Moses' face. Moses looked up, and saw The Preacher smiling.