Ellie was working overtime, not that she was getting paid at all. But her work as an EMT did not prepare her for the chaos she had to contain the days following the raid. So many bodies to clean up, so many wounds to contain, and so many lives to save. "Hold on. I'm coming," she would answer the moaning people.
The power to heal had saved many of their lives, but it wasn't a full miracle. Many still had to live with their disfigurements. People lost arms and legs, and some were already having nightmares from the post-traumatic stress. Many were in a panic, wondering if the bandits would return.
"The Redeemer was supposed to protect us. Why wasn't he there?" Some would ask. And Ellie would shake her head and hold their hand for a moment. There wasn't an answer she could give.
T'balt had gone to him days ago. She had hoped that he would find out. If not, at least help her with the treatment of the believers. There must've been 50 or so in her care. But he went upstairs and never returned.
No one could tell her what happened to him, no matter where she prodded. She had only one conclusion in the back of her mind. He's dead. Monan killed him. And that thought dropped an anchor on her very soul. Throughout everything, T'balt was the one thing that kept her sanity through the rapture.
A helpful soul. A smiling light. Even when his heart was destroyed by some unknown sorrow, he gathered all his strength to protect them. To protect her. He was their true savior. Not Monan. But he was gone now, and that pit of loneliness pulled at her ankles, like a tide of quicksand.
"Wine!" The demand of the Redeemer stilled the room. He hardly ever came downstairs, never volunteering to stand among the weeping of the masses. He was too holy for that kind of thing… except when he was out of wine.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we've run out." A feeble old man was bowing in front of him, but despite the way the man submitted himself, Monan only heard the words, "We've run out."
"Then go find some more," he said.
"But how…"
"The world ended barely yesterday. Go to town, find a liquor store, and restock. What else are you good for?" He put a boot to the man's back, forcing him to get a move on. Even though the man was clearly in no condition to go on an expedition to town. He didn't have any loot to defend himself. But still, everyone watched him go with defeat in their eyes.
"What is everyone looking at?" Monan threw his hands up. "You expect him to carry it by himself. Do as the Redeemer commands and get the damn wine. And some whiskey while you're at it. That's a command from god."
Everyone looked around until one of the more fit men and a couple like him took after the old man. But before they could leave, one of them said under their breath. "You don't speak for the lord."
"What was that?" Monan's gaze was on the man. He was one of the late arrivals. Came only days before the Nrv group attacked. He still had that youthful air of defiance about him. Though the others tried to shush him, it was far too late. "You wanna say that again?"
The kid hesitated before finding strength in his solitude. "You're not a prophet. You don't speak.. for…" A flash broke through his words. Blood splattered against the wall, and the man slumped to the ground. Without warning, his entire body was flung into the wall. The whole scene was like watching someone being ejected through a car windshield. The death was immediate as Monan glowed with smoke.
The people stood by half in shock and the other half in immediate acceptance. Ellie could only close her eyes and pretend that she had not seen.
"See that. That was god smiting you for your lack of faith." But Ellie knew better. She had already seen him flaunt the telekinesis loot. He could end a life without even having to blink his eye. And this was not the first time. "So then... If there are no other complaints. Off with the rest of you." The other men shuffled off with a quickness to the town. Everyone else was far too afraid to make any movements with Monan in the room.
So he surveyed them, taking in that fear as a suitable replacement for his lack of alcohol. His heavy steps quaked in the pen drop silence. Slow, menacing. Ellie could smell his drunkenness inching closer to her. Too close. He was close enough to be breathing on her neck.
She stood absolutely still. No eye contact. Don't look. Don't engage. Keep calm. She told herself, but her heart was in no mood to listen. But if she said something, it felt like opening the doorway to her own death. So she kept healing the woman on the bed beneath her.
Though Monan was not one to take no for an answer. He stood in front of her, trying to steal her attention and her dignity with it. But she looked straight down at her hands, focusing on the aura emanating from them.
Then she felt a finger on her chin. It slowly lifted her up, forcing her to lock eyes with the man. That was her dignity gone. She was now eye to eye with Monan, who looked at her with a disguised lustful brutality. The edges of his mouth twitched into a smile. He lifted her chin, observing the smoothness under her neck. And that finger continued to move her head like she was some mannequin for his pleasure.
"Nah… You'd just be a bore." His attention left her and caught on one of the other women in the room. "You… Today is your day to be blessed."
The woman stepped forward. "Yes, Redeemer." And she followed him up the stairs.
Ellie didn't realize that her hands were shaking. Were they shaking the whole time? She hated that she felt so relieved when he chose the other woman instead of her. But what else could she do? Everyone had breathed the same sigh of relief that she did.
That night, a group of them gathered around a fire in the basement. "We can't stand to live here. Not like this," one said.
"You want to take your chances out there… with those demons?"
"What makes the ones out there worse than the one in here?"
"At least we're safe. As long as we just do what he says and stay out of his way."
"That was my wife he took… I'm supposed to just let that happen."
"Like it or not, he has been gifted the powers of god. We can't stand against him."
"Then this is our punishment. For our sins. Hell on earth."
"Here. Take another drink."
Ellie listened on, taking a drink of her own. "His gifts… Are not from god." They all stared at her then.
"Ellie, what do you mean?" One of the men said.
"Well… Those gifts… Like the one I have. They're not from god. They're from the demons."
The gasps swept across the room, and the whispers told her that she was right to say it. She had kept this inside her ever since the raid. It never felt right to bring it up. Plus, if Monan got any sense that she had said them, she was on the chopping block next. It may have been the alcohol, but now felt like the time to change things.
"That's blasphemy. Heresy. If the Redeemer hears you saying something like that…"
"How do you know this?" The man was cut off by another.
Ellie pondered a moment. "Someone told me… the man who came to the church with Monan. He told me before…"
"Can you prove it… can he?"
"I… I haven't seen him. He must be dead now. He'd gone to see the Redeemer last I heard."
"You mean the scrawny guy with the slim eyes?" one said. "He isn't dead."
Then Ellie was in the man's face, like he had just committed a serious crime. In her mind, he did, keeping that information from her. "Where is he?"
It had been at least a week in the boiler room. Minutes passed. T'balt had only been counting by the number of times he had fallen asleep and woken up. At least 8. No light. Just bleak grey walls and the sounds of dripping water.
He would try to catch some drops in his mouth whenever they came from the ceiling. Then he would thank the god that he didn't believe in for the rain. Monan had a guard posted out the door, and he would come in twice a day to give T'balt some water. He couldn't refuse, or it would be shoved down his throat.
The guard was more lenient with food. Maybe it was because T'balt could survive longer without it. But he'd refused anyway, leading to the man knocking a tooth loose the first time. Then every time after that, he gave up and just left the food on the ground for T'balt to smell. Then he'd smell it spoil and be stuck hungry with the smell of rotting food.
Starving himself was getting harder. He'd give in every three days. He guessed he wasn't ready to die. But the agony of barely eating was almost just as bad as starving. His body always craved more. It was a feeling he could fight off since Zero Day happened. But now that he was completely stationary and his body was atrophying, it was like his stomach grew to the size of a rampaging giant. He wanted to eat so bad. He wanted to be free so bad. He wanted to see Ellie. To see if she was okay.
She was the only thing he could think about that would keep him going. In fact, whenever he thought about starving himself or trying to find some way to take his life, it was her face that came to his mind. But it felt disgusting, thinking like that.
His girlfriend's corpse was only a week old, and he was thinking about another woman. Sick. Maybe he deserved to be here. Some divine punishment for being a zealot all his life.
But still he would close his eyes and picture her auburn hair and smell her sweet, citrusy perfume. It kept the dead bodies away and the grey, bland walls.
His brain was still messy, though. Playing tricks on him. It had combined the two images into one. Ellie was in the grey, dark room, smiling at him. What a sick trick.
He felt the hunger start to drift him off to an early sleep, and he decided to let it this time. Sleep to calm the nightmare he was living. And in his dreams, he had lain down, hearing Ellie's voice speak to him. "Are you okay?.. We've got to go." It sounded panicked. Rumbling. Shouts from others. The feeling of flame. The gates of hell coming for him. But there was a hand reaching for him there, pulling him out of his dream. "Please, T'balt. I need you…"
"What?"
"I need you to…" T'balt eyes flickered open. "Wake up!" Ellie yelled. Her bow was drawn as three men charged towards her, mythical weapons in hand. She was in a fight, and he wasn't in the boiler room anymore. He was outside, feeling the rain pound against his cheek. It was enough to send him into full alert.
His body reacted, and he sent himself at a full charge into the man. He had forgotten about his speed loot and bowled over the man, instantly knocking him out. But that was all the strength he had. He felt his vision fading again, and he could hardly move.
Ellie was still struggling in the fight, but at least she only had two to deal with now. One of them looked to be his guard, and the other another believer. What was happening?
She was on the offensive, though all she had was her bow. Now that she had some distance, it was only about taking the shot. She knew the believers, one of them a long-time member, but the look in his eye was that of a killer. It didn't take much internal convincing for her to loose the holy arrow into his chest.
The other continued charging, closing the distance, hammering his fist on her. She tried to move, but he was so strong that the attack barreled the ground beneath her. She fell over, damaged by the shrapnel of the street.
She kicked at him, but it did next to no damage. The strength loot in him made him laugh it off as a tickle. He seized her by the leg, holding her up like a rag doll. "That's enough, Ellie. The Redeemer will hear of your betrayal."
That name had filled her with so much fear before. Even when he first arrived on Zero Day. She was alone in the church when it all happened. She was homeless, living at the church, as she left the rest of the world, which had been so cruel to her. She devoted herself by proxy, but she was still a believer.
So when she saw what she saw on the news, she knew the end had come for her. Angels in the sky. Ten-foot beasts roaming the earth. Men and demons in a struggle for the land. It was all terrifying.
She could do nothing but pray. But when her prayers were answered, she did not trust the answer. It only terrified her more. The Redeemer. A man claiming to have the power of god. And she watched as he tormented her church, ransacked it for all its worth, and killed its people. All she could be was terrified.
But strangely, now she wasn't terrified anymore. That all ceased to be when T'balt opened his eyes. Without even realizing the situation, he came to her rescue, immediately passing out again. If that was not the truest hope, then she was no believer.
The breath came to her easily, and she drew her bow, hanging upside down by the man's hand. But he broke her grip, and the holy bow disappeared. His fist buried in her cheek, causing her to lose temporary consciousness.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be. We are saved. Why would you throw that away?"
"Because…" She struggled. "We are not… saved. But I have faith that we can be."
That answer seemed to anger the man. He reared back for another punch. This one looked to have had the intent of silencing her for good. She tilted her foot, reaching for her falling shoe, and chucked it right at the man's eye.
He flinched, holding his face and dropping her in a puddle of water. She scrambled to her feet, and before he could realize what had happened, the holy bow appeared brighter in a magnificent white light as the sun cleared the way to shine upon her.
She let the arrow fly, and no amount of strength loot would save him from that shot. It launched several yards away right to his back. He started to cough up blood. Though the arrow was not a physical one. It had pierced him, but with light, which only seemed to shock his body. It was as if he had been hit, but he would show no wound. Still, the consciousness drained from him, and the fight was over.