Kicking open the door, he was standing amongst them before he even knew they were there, cowering amongst the shadows. Humans. Just starting to stir having survived the night. Probably about to go out scavenging for the day.
He heard some stifled screams and his hands went to his swords without thinking. In a backroom somewhere, someone was sobbing. He was in a darkened room. Windows bordered up and covered with curtains. Huddled in corners on filthy mattresses were several Humans. Sam could smell rotting flesh and he knew without a doubt, that some, if not all of them had the plague.
It was a surprise they were still alive. Not only had they survived the plague and starvation, but the demons had not taken them. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously but nothing immediately pointed to demon worship. Striding over to one of the cowering figures, he pulled her to her feet. It was a young woman, no more than fifteen but so skinny and malnourished that she weighed probably half what Aimi did — and she was tiny.
The girl tried to push his hands away from her but she was as weak as a baby. He turned her wrist over. Nothing. No mark. No tattoo. She wasn’t a demon worshipper. More roughly than he intended, he checked two more. No mark. They were clean.
“What… what do you want?” asked a man, standing shakily. He was probably Sam’s age but looked ten years older.
Sam held his hands up, palms facing outwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just looking for a place to rest.”
“Perhaps, you would like to look elsewhere,” said the man. He flinched every time Sam looked at him. “I’m not being rude but we don’t have enough for ourselves, let alone someone else. Besides, many of us are sick.”
Sam smiled, trying to reassure the obviously terrified youth. “It’s ok. I don’t want any of your food but I do have a question for you.”
“What is it?” asked the man, sinking to the floor. Even standing seemed to be too much of an effort for him.
“How have you survived? Why haven’t the demons taken you?”
The man on the floor signed wearily. He looked at the others before replying. Sam could see that he was considering lying but then decided against it. “We have a generator. Underneath the house. There’s a deep well under there as well. We grow a bit of food using hydroponics. Some food. It’s never enough.”
“And what about the demons?” asked Sam.
The man shrugged. “They don’t bother us. We haven’t seen one in months.”
Sam thought this was strange and yet he wanted to trust these people. They didn’t seem to have done anything wrong, their only crime being left behind to endure the Tribulation. And he liked the fact that they were survivors. That they had managed to start the process of civilization again in this small town. It gave him hope — hope for the rest of humanity that remained.
On a whim, he unstrapped his backpack and began to rummage around, aware that the people in the room were cringing back in terror, expecting the worse. He pulled out two small vials and some disposable needles. He tossed them to the man who caught them with a nervous flutter.
“What’s this?” the youth stammered.
“Antibiotics,” said Sam. “It’ll get rid of the plague. Should be enough to treat everyone if you use it sparingly. Try not to eat too many rats.” Before he’d left, the Colonel had made him stock up on as much antibiotics as he could carry. If rumors were to be believed, New York was rife with the disease.
The man stood again, tears streaming out of his eyes. “I don’t know who you are, stranger, or why you are helping us, but I thank you,” he said. “I thank you on behalf of all of us here. What can we do for you in return?”
“Survive,” said Sam. “That will be thanks enough for me.”
Around him, the other plague victims were standing up. Sam wasn’t sure of their intentions. He was ready for anything though but surely they wouldn’t attack him? They simply weren’t strong enough. Were they that desperate to get at his supplies? He shifted his feet, readying his hands to draw both swords. The circle of shuffling figures got closer and closer. Soon they were close enough to halt but they didn’t stop there.
Sam didn’t like his personal space being invaded. He wasn’t used to being touched but he made an exception in this case as fifteen half dead, plague ridden survivors enfolded Sam in their arms and hugged him like they’re never hugged anyone before. Feelings stirred. Ones that at first he couldn’t identify because he hadn’t felt them before. Then he knew.
This was what it felt like to feel good about yourself.
Chapter Eighteen
“ Don't let anyone deceive you in any way, for that day will not come until the rebellion occurs and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the man doomed to destruction.”
He spent much of the day in their safe house, meditating, cleaning his weapons but mostly just watching. He had to hand it to them — they were certainly industrious. Even without much energy, on the verge of starvation, disease ridden, they moved with a purpose. Everybody in the small community seemed to have a job which they approached with as much enthusiasm as Sam had seen anywhere.
All told, there were just over twenty people living in the building, mostly teenagers or in their early twenties. One girl looked around twelve and there was a man who was probably in his thirties or forties. It was so hard to tell though. The layer of grime and ash on their skin was so ingrained it looked painted on.
The antibiotics had done their job. The few that had seemed to be on death’s brink had now been brought back from the edge and had improved considerably. Most even joined the others at their assigned tasks.
Sam ventured downstairs and viewed their hydroponic operation. He understood why the generators only operated during the day. They created quite a bit of noise — noise that could be heard from almost a block away. Even if demons didn’t seem to be a problem, if stumbled upon by demon worshippers or those that just preyed on the weak, the results could potentially be devastating. Demon worshippers, especially, seemed to be more active at night so he understood their caution.
Not only that, they also went through a fair amount of gasoline. While gasoline didn’t appear to be in drastically short supply, one of the men told him that they’d almost exhausted local supplies and now had to search further afield. This took time, effort and man-power — all things which the small community lacked.
Of course this created its own problems. The plants they were growing — lettuce and tomatoes mostly — were suffering from lack of sunlight, and most looked sickly and limp. Sam even saw signs of disease on the plants. Even here, away from the surface and the deadly, Hell-like environment, they still suffered, a reflection of the conditions above.
This food couldn’t possibly feed everyone here. Sure, it was probably enough to ward off complete starvation, but only just. Thankfully, the water supplied by the well was relatively fresh so at least that wasn’t a problem. For meat, like most other survivor living outside army bases, they caught and ate rats. Sam didn’t blame them. He saw the amount of traps set and was surprised they weren’t catching more than they were. One of the survivors told him that rats were in short supply lately. It seemed that even rats were beginning to starve but that wasn’t surprising. What on Earth were the rats eating in the first place? Most plants were dead, pretty much every animal. Sam hadn’t thought about it before and asked some of the workers around the hydroponic plant.
Insects, they replied. Accustomed to gutting these animals, they’d seen exactly what was in their stomachs. Ah, yes. Of course. The rats were eating insects, and why not? Since the Rapture, insects like cockroaches and locusts had thrived in the hot conditions. And plagues came in other forms, too.