2.

For life and death have become one, just as the river and the sea are one ...

When did the news blend with fiction? It is not fiction if it is true. Headlines can only be seen as ridiculous until a time comes when it is too late to do anything about it.

Extremely disturbing Soviet Zombie Experiments: Reanimating dead ... efforts in the creation of the super soldier.

U.S researchers will attempt to 'reanimate' a corpse with stem cells ...

Yale scientists successfully reanimate the brains of dead pigs ...

***

I hurt myself today ... to see if I still feel ... I focus on the pain ... the only thing that's real ...

Do onto others before they do onto you.

He trudged on through unending deluge in an utter daze, aware and unaware both at once. His white shirt anything but white, his jacket torn, and his collar loosened. There is blood on his clothing, most of which is not his own though he is responsible for some its existence. The end of the world has come, the end of his world. Everyone he knew is gone. Friends, family, parishioners, they are all gone and only he is left to walk a path, maybe the path to his own crucifixion.

Maybe he could just stay here, drop to his knees right where he is, wait it out in a temporarily peaceful wide-open space. Indeed, if he were to do such a thing then peace would only last so long, for they would come to him sooner or later then there will be no need to worry about survival, no need to wonder as to where he goes from here, no need to worry about managing from day to day.

Doing such a thing as staying still and waiting for an end to come, he feels he would just be letting them all down, everyone who knew and trusted him, he knows they would not want him to give up no matter how strong his weakening faith may or may not be, so he continues on, moving forward. His faith however may not be the only thing weakening, and his actions in his recent past may have been more damaging than he can ever realize.

Considering what those who have passed would think of him now, huh, if only he knew, if only he could be more aware than unaware, still the choice has been made to keep on moving, no matter in whose name this will be done.

Walking on for what feels like an eternity, what are the chances that when he feels as if he can walk no more that he has come to be on hallowed ground? A church stands whole and strong before him, the largest he has seen in some time, or at least this is what he believes. This place is familiar, but he does not know why. It is a church after all, but the familiarity is more than that. Has he been here before or maybe to another church just like this one?

The day, this day so far is indeed peaceful, it is also quiet, bright, and lonely. He hesitantly enters the building, and it is soon clear that it is free of infestation of any kind, so he walks up the center aisle, genuflects and blesses himself, then moves inwards and sits.

A moment or two passes before he moves forwards off his seat and on to his knees. Clasping his hands, he speaks out loud in the hopes that the little faith he does hold on to will show him the way to go from here on in.

'Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me? Forsaken us? Your children who follow you to the ends of the world and beyond? Tell me who has opened up hell's gates and allowed the dead to come through and roam free? If you battle Satan, then it would appear Satan is winning. For Lucifer himself has come above ground and he has brought an army with him.

I don't know how much longer I can go on oh Lord. Please show me the way, show me a sign that all will be well. Give me the strength to go on.'

He bows his head and prays in silence, initially not seeing the light that soon shines through the stained glass up high beyond and onto the alter not all so far up ahead of where he kneels, but when he does see that light, he can't help but stand and indeed take this moment as a sign. It may just be pure coincidence though he much rather take it as if his prayers have been answered. Maybe they have been answered or at least heard, maybe the light is something else, a plea perhaps.

From the back of the church, just inside the doorway a voice speaks ...

'Father ... are you alone?

He struggles and almost trips as he attempts to move out into the aisle and on to meet and make contact with the first sign of real and intelligent life, he has come across in he doesn't know how long. Composing himself he answers the question asked of him in a manner that only a man of the cloth can, and of course his answer comes in the form of a question.

'How alone can one truly be within our Lord's house?'

'Well, however one may see things ...' speaks the owner of that visiting voice, 'we have to get going and that means you are coming with us father.'

'We? Us?'

'Yes father, you remember, right? I am a part of a group of seven who have come together out of need and through misfortune; and it is time to move on. We can go through this at another time. Right at this very moment, the dead are coming. They are gathering outside so the more time we spend in here the more likely it is we will become bait so we really should get going.'

'Alright ... lead the way.'

Outside they have indeed gathered. In the short time the priest and his apparent new acquaintance have been inside that large church, the dead have grouped outside and more have come than anticipated.

The other members of the group of which the church visitor spoke of are fending off those gathering members of the dead, the nearest of which group wise is a young lady and she is the first to grab the attention of the priest.

'My name is Shawn, that right there is my sister. Her name is Amber ...'