When I was nine I had my first encounter with death. My grandmother, Maria Callaway, had been battling lung cancer for the last five years of her life. Like me she survived on a oxygen tank. Breathing in and out slowly, as if gasping for anything her lungs could use to survive. My parents would occasionally have to make a business trip which often left me staying at her house for a certain time. Her raspy voice always sent a chill done my spine. I watched my Grandfather, Jimmy Callaway, care for her every single day. He showed the same love and compassion he had always held for her. The morning she died I was in shock because it had only been a day since I last saw her. I remember her watching the sun rise and fall as she slowly breathed in and out.
Now I stand here, mortified that I was the cause of some one's death. My lungs started to have a burning pain that brought me to my knees. My ears still rang which blocked out the noise of the alarms. I tried to take deep breathes but all I could do is watch. Out of all the carnage I had faced, all the terrible things I had witnessed, this was the worse of it all. I tried slowing my heart and gaining control of my breath. I stood up and grabbed my oxygen tank. I moved out into the hallway and towards the elevator.
Whoever these guys were they seemed to be well armed. I wasn't prepared for getting into a confrontation especially if it was one concerning lethal force. The elevator descended down to the first floor may heart still bursting out of chest. Finally, it came to a stop on the first floor. Upon opening I had three men with assault rifles looking at me. The barrels of their guns locked on my upper body. They had on rebreathers instead of oxygen tanks. Christin was being restrained by two other men in the background.
"Too think I wasn't going to see another soul alive in this town."
I looked to see a older slender man approach me. He wore a rebreather around his face just like the others, but peered at me from his glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose. He was wearing a roman collar around his neck. Interesting, I never thought I'd see a priest again.
"Lower your weapons gentlemen, this young man seems to be just as shellshocked as the rest of us," he spoke.
"Who are you?" I inquired. "I am father Dan of the St. Leo Cathedral of Catholic worship. These men here are my avid disciples and pursuers of faith." He responded.
"You mind telling me why my sister there is being restrained?" I asked angrily. Father Dan looked backed to Christin who had all but given up on resisting. "Thats yours sister?" the Father asked. I nodded.
"Boys would you kindly untie her and have her be reunited with this fine young man." The men started to unwrap the bungie cords from around her. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience and trouble, but we spooked her a little bit which prompted her to assault one of my friends. You, of course, probably do the same thing to prevent any harm to those you care for," said Father Dan.
"I would, but things are little bit different."
"Indeed they are."
Christin ran into my arms and hugged me. "I didn't catch your name young man," asked father Dan. "My name is William," I replied. "Well William you and your sister are lucky. Me and the brothers haven't heard much from outside our town. We assumed that the good lord had taken everybody and that we were left alone," said Father Dan. I peered at the father's eyes as I held my sister. They seem focused on us like a lion to a gazelle. "We've just been heading up North. Seeing if there was anyone else. It's been silent," I replied. "Lamentations 3:26, It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. You may hear silence William, I hear progress," replied Father Dan. One of the armed men approached father Dan and whispered into his ear. My heart rate began to rise. The father looked back to me and Christin.
"Tell me William, when you were up on the upper floors did you by any chance run into two of my brothers?"
"No, I came from the seventh floor. I didn't run into anybody."
Father Dan stared at me. His eyes seemed to peer through my soul. He approached me and my sister and stood close. "In the house of the lord, they often say lying is a far greater sin than murder," he whispered to me. I stood silent for a moment. The guys with guns drew closer. "I didn't see anyone. No one. If I did I would've already told you," I replied. He stared longer and longer.
"I believe you William." The father rested his hand on my shoulder and breathed deeply. "You and your sister must be starving. You should come back with us to our camp," the father continued.
"We need to be on our way," I responded. Me and Christin started to walk before the Father grabbed my arm. "For someone with no particular place in mind to go, you seem very pressed for time," he said. "We just have to be on our way. I appreciate your hospitality and blessing, but father you of all people should know that everyone have a journey and destination to achieve," I responded. The father eased his hand and began to chuckle. His laugh became more and more deeper and passionate. As if he heard a really good joke. "Something funny?" asked Christin. The father wiped away a tear from the corner of his left eye and started to dry his glasses. "I may be a servant of the lord, William, but do not take me for a fool." My vision when black and I felt my body ground itself.
