Sleeping in Churches

I sat down to set up camp for the night, sheltered as I was in the ruins of what was once a church. I liked camping in churches. Often, they were the least-looted ruins, as if whoever had looted the nearby buildings had decided to give them a pass based on some reluctant faith. I appreciated the beautiful stained glass and the remnant hush that settled over the building. I had never been religious, myself, back before… well, before everything went to hell. But we all started somewhere, I figured, and the apocalypse was as good a time as any to find God. 

    I pulled my pack off my back, unscrewed my water bottle, and drank greedily. Ever since I had been kicked out of my last group, it had been a struggle to find resources, and I limited the amount of food and water I consumed each day out of necessity. I could feel my greasy dust-blackened hair falling out of its tight bun; I unwound it and reset it on top of my head. It was unlikely that I would find a working shower anytime soon, as much as I wanted one. 

    Humming to myself, I pulled a can of soup out of my pack and opened it, not even bothering to heat it anymore. Gone were the small luxuries of the past. I slurped it greedily and then laid down beneath a pew, ready to sleep and start a new day. 

    Until I heard a side door creak open. I hoped against hope that it wasn’t a wild animal here to eat me. Even worse, what if it was another person? The people left in the ravaged cities often weren’t much better than wild animals themselves. 

    I heard the padding of footsteps as something- no, someone- walked up to the altar. I stayed down beneath a pew, my heartbeat pounding so loudly in my chest I was sure that they could hear it. 

    “Alright sweetie, this looks like a good place to sleep,” I heard a man’s voice say. “And yes, I mean actually sleep this time. No more staying up all night.”

    “Alright daddy,” a sweet young voice said. A child? No older than four. A child, born after the collapse, judging by the sound of their voice. How odd. 

    I heard rustling as they took off their packs and settled down nearby. Should I make myself known? That would probably scare the bejesus out of them. (Ha, bejesus. In a church. I thought this briefly and without much humor.)

    I sat up slowly. Their backs were turned to me so they didn’t see me. It was a man, about my age if not older, and a young girl who looked barely out of toddler-hood. The man had a buzzcut reminiscent of a young soldier, while the girl had long blonde pigtails that seemed remarkably well-kept considering the lack of running water. 

    “Not to scare you…” I started, knowing I would scare them. Indeed, the man jumped to hear my voice. He immediately went to guard the young girl, fear in his eyes as he looked at me. I put my hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

    “I come in peace,” I said with a slight attempt at a smile. “My name is Anna. I came here to crash for the night, too.”

    “Sam,” he said in return, not loosening his guard over the girl. “And this is Marie.”

    “Marie, what a pretty name,” I said, trying to smile at her. My lips cracked from disuse. “Nice to meet you, Sam. How did you find this place?”

    “I was from Portland,” he said. “You know, before… all this. My family used to come to this church.” 

    “I’m from Seattle,” I said. “My old group sort of fell apart so I came here on my own.”

    “Well, Anna,” Sam said, starting to relax, “want to travel together? We’re headed down to California before the snows start.”

    I wasn’t sure if I wanted to travel with a child, but what the hell. Beats being on my own. 

    “Sure,” I said. “I’ve always heard great things about the California beaches.” A joke- large parts of California were underwater, making virtually the whole state a beach. We shook hands briefly, comrades for the time being. 

---

Travelling with Sam felt like being a person again. He had somehow managed to keep his sense of humor despite everything. He cracked jokes as we walked. We passed burned-out houses from some long-forgotten fire and houses that looked so overgrown, it was hard to tell where the weeds ended and the house started. 

“So, what happened with your old group?” he asked one day, Marie bouncing along beside him, holding his hand. I had known the question was coming. 

“There was a fight over leadership, and I backed the wrong person,” I said with a wry smile. The smiles came easier these days. “Almost got myself killed, but a friend warned me in advance, so I left before they could get to me.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Sam said, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “Me and Marie have been on our own since her mother died from an infection a couple of years ago.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I echoed. In truth, as selfish as it was, I was glad he didn’t have a wife here with us. Not that anything would happen between us. Sam was always focused on Marie, and I was focused on- well- surviving. That left no quarter for romance. 

---

    I started noticing streaks of grey in Sam’s brown hair as it grew out of its previous buzzcut. 

    “Lice,” he explained with a laugh. “Easiest way to get rid of them was to get rid of the hair, so I used a knife and shaved it all off one night. I didn’t want Marie to catch them.”

    “So that’s not your usual style?” I asked with a smile. 

    “No, I’m going for that apocalyptic-chic look,” he said, smiling back. “You know, full beard and everything.”

    Every time we passed a church, Sam wanted to go inside to pray. I liked sleeping in churches, and I liked the sound of his prayers, so I went along willingly. Sometimes we’d find dead bodies- poor souls who must have went into the church as a last resort and starved or been killed. We tried to cover Marie’s eyes, and to give them a proper burial, but there was only so much we could do. She was old enough now to understand death and ask hard questions. 

    “What happened to Mom?” she asked one night. We were camped by the crumbling remains of an overpass, hidden from view by jagged chunks of asphalt. 

    “Mom went to Heaven,” Sam explained. “She’s looking down on us right now.”

    “Oh,” Marie said. “Tell her she doesn’t have to watch us anymore, because now we have Anna.” 

    That touched something inside me that I hadn’t known existed before. Something welled up in my chest and I wanted to reach out and hold her tight. I settled for stroking her pretty blonde hair, watching it shine in the night. Sam watched us with a smile on his face. I smiled back at him. 

---

    Once we reached California, I could feel that the air was tinged with a hint of autumn. Thankfully I was prepared for the cold, with an array of gear tucked into my pack. So was Sam. The only problem, though, was Marie: she was outgrowing all of the cold-weather gear Sam had previously scavenged for her. 

    “It looks like it’s time to go looting again,” he said heavily. “You watch the camp, I’ll take Marie and try to find some stores that aren’t completely raided.”

    I saluted him. “Sir yes sir,” I said mockingly. Sam laughed and grabbed Marie’s hand, walking away. I felt my heart twinge as I watched them. Something inside me told me not to let them go, not to let them walk away from me. I buried that deep in my chest and began to set up camp inside the church we had stopped in for the night. 

    Many hours later, it was growing dark and Sam had not yet come back. I worried, alone in my church, my knees pulled up to my chest. What if they had been found by some other group and mugged? What if, what if. The scenarios played themselves out in my head. 

    The door of the church opened with a creaking noise, and I jumped up, ready to run to greet Sam and Marie. Instead, Sam stumbled in, holding Marie tightly, blood staining his clothes. He collapsed onto his knees, still holding Marie tightly. I could see there was a large chunk missing from his left calf. I nearly swooned; I wasn’t good with blood. 

    Now was not the time, though. I quickly tore strips from my shirt as Sam put Marie down on the cold church floor. She started wailing and tugging on his hand as he collapsed onto his side. 

    “What happened?” I asked, my voice frantic.

    “Pack of feral dogs,” Sam said, sounding weak. “I kept them away from Marie but they got my leg. I scared them off by making a big noise then ran here.”

    I worked quickly, bandaging his wound, but so much blood had already been lost. And then there was the possibility of infection. I didn’t even want to think about that. 

    “Anna, is Daddy gonna be okay?” Marie wailed. I shushed her with a weak smile.

    “He’ll be just fine, okay, sweetie? Now hush and let me work, okay?” My hands were shaking and covered in Sam’s blood as I finished tying the last of the cloth strips. 

    “Anna, I want you to take care of Marie,” Sam said, his voice rough. 

    “Don’t talk like that, Sam,” I said, on the verge of tears. “You’ll be fine. You have to be fine.”

    “Make sure she remembers me, okay?” he said. “And I want you to remember me, too.”

    “I won’t have to remember you, you’ll be right here with us,” I said, my voice thick. I could feel tears starting to drip down my face. 

    “Anna,” he said, his eyes focused on me. “You’re beautiful.” 

    “Sam-”

    “I know, not a great time. Listen-” he started, then reached up and pulled me down towards his face into a rough kiss. It was wet and tasted of blood, but it was the best kiss I’d ever had. 

    We pulled away after a few seconds. 

    “Ew, gross” Marie said, making us both laugh weakly. 

    “You need rest,” I said to Sam. He pulled me down to lay next to him and put his arm over me. Marie joined us, snuggling into my arms. I stayed awake for a long time, listening to them breathing. 

---

    The next morning, it was hard to ignore how much blood Sam had lost. He was dizzy and weak. It was even harder to ignore the heat coming off of his body as a fever took over. 

    By the end of the day, he was barely conscious. By the end of the week, he was gone. 

---

    Marie and I buried him on a hill next to a church. It took me all day to dig the hole, longer because I was weeping the whole time. Marie cried a little but didn’t seem to fully understand. 

    “Daddy’s in heaven,” I told her, wrapping her in my arms. She cried more, burying her face in my chest. 

    “I want him to come back,” she said in between sobs. 

    “Me too, sweetie, me too,” I said, my voice wistful. I just held her tightly: my little piece of Sam.