Churches are known to be haunted, but the only otherworldly presence Ambrose has ever felt while inside these walls comes not from ghosts nor God, but himself. They discover that it is Sunday, and the pastor was in late the previous night preparing for his sermon the next morning. Ambrose listens to the service on the stairs that lead down to the Sunday school. The children are antsy in the halls. His wife is supposed to run the service for them below, but the pastor explains that a pipe burst and there was flooding. He says it could take several weeks to resolve since the damage is extensive. He says this while the collection plate is passed around.

Ambrose thinks it's funny. Lying is a sin, according to the ten commandments. However, he thinks that they are already committing the first sin. Thou shalt have no other gods before Me. Jesus famously came back from the dead, and Anglicans believe him to be both human and God at the same time. What were they if not that?

The others are asleep before any members of the congregation have walked through the door. It seems that despite how long they seemingly slept, a night of roaming the town in search of answers is exhausting to the legs and the soul. That is, if they have souls. Ambrose isn't sure.

When the sermon ends, Ambrose heads down and goes to sleep. The lights are off, though a bit of light streams through the cheap blinds covering the small window just above the ground. He crawls into the only empty cot. Sleep drags him under.

Some of them dream, and some of them don't. Such is life. Or, death. Nightmares happen, especially for Leo who sweats and tosses and turns. Yet, no cursed memories of the seconds that they forgot before their death occur. They sleep for so long that it is dinner time when they awake.

Barry is the first up. He feels more jetlagged than when he flew here from Toronto. The time zones aren't that different. Honestly, it feels like he ought to be on the other side of the world, upside-down. He stretches out his legs. They feel like dead weight. They are.

Others also slowly begin to arise. Audrey finds herself bored in the basement. She looks around. There is a kitchen in one room, and a storage room where surely the cots are held when children come down to learn about the bible. There is a plastic drawer unit which is full of craft supplies and small percussion instruments for children to use. A wooden shelving unit that holds children's books has a few plastic pieces on the floor in front of it. Audrey touches one, and the shelf collapses.

True crime podcasts cross Clare's mind. They had always preferred tangible realities over supernatural superstition, so they wouldn't know about any investigative work into ghosts or zombies or whatever had become of them. To stop their wandering mind, they repeat a sentiment, thinking each word deliberately. Let the police handle it. They wish that they weren't so investigative. They wonder if they could dig up their casket and run the body's dental records. Their parents wouldn't have had them cremated.

Their parents. Their brothers. Their dog.

Lydia locks herself in the bathroom. She touches her throat, feeling the rings along her trachea. If the ginger girl, Fallon, was correct about the year, then it has been over a decade since she last spoke. Lydia takes exceptional care of her vocal cords. She drinks 64 ounces of water daily, and if she has a glass of wine at a social appearance, she adds another 16 ounces to her daily requirement. Whenever she feels under the weather, she only leaves her apartment for rehearsals. She won't even take Vitamin C and avoids spicy foods just in case. All of that, for her voice to perhaps not work.

She decides not to sing. Not yet.

Along with all the instruments for children, there is a guitar. Leo finds a spot in the storage room, leaning against a prop that the church uses in their nativity scene, and begins to pluck the strings. It is out of tune, and he tries his best to tune it by ear. It's passable. He plays the melody of a rock song that came out a week before he left to chase after that child killer. Leo remembers almost feeling happy when the song came to him easily. He felt like he had improved something in his life. Even playing it now is soothing.

Kaia does not like being confined. She found a television on a cart in the storage room that she had pulled out shortly before Leo went inside to play guitar. It's old, with VCRs on the shelves. Those were even outdated when she was alive. She looks them all over. They are all biblical movies for children, with over half of them starring vegetables. She smacks one against her forehead and groans. It is the most sound anyone has dared let come out of their throat since they woke up.

Exploring isn't worth Eva's time. There is no way she will find a cigarette anywhere in the Sunday schoolroom. Though she likes the feeling of inhaling the smoke, it is the only thing that makes her warm as quickly as vodka, she'd be willing to put a nicotine patch on her arm. Despite what her mother might think, Eva hadn't started smoking until she'd turned 18 and left the house. Since then, a cigarette a day does the trick. It's starting to get fucking awful.

Este plots. She thinks about how satisfying it'll be for her to see the look on his face. Maybe he's married now. Maybe he cheats on her too, with a younger, blonder woman. Perhaps she should give him credit. He managed to kill her. While it would be nice if he was in prison for his crimes, no part of her believes that Jayce would have been caught. His family is well-known and wealthy. He's a white man. God himself could come down and say that Jayce did her in and some might still doubt. Este is no god though. She is something else entirely.

Fear overtakes Nico. They decide that they can only let it consume them until dinner. After all, everyone else must be scared. Everyone here has a Kye to find, and if they don't, well they are in an even worse position than Nico. If it weren't for Clare and Leo being members of law enforcement, it might be Nico who has to make decisions and take charge, and they don't even know which way Montreal is from here. Nico lies in bed, trying to shut their eyes and go back to sleep.

The first aid course that all the recruits in the air force have to take is more extensive than civilians might expect. Ajay learned how to put a sling on himself and learned which materials of a broken aircraft work the best as a splint if you are ever behind enemy lines. Even after leaving service, Ajay thinks he is in good shape, and he most certainly has more medical knowledge than your average civilian. So, he assesses himself. The only sign of concussion he feels is the gap in memory related to what happened that night he died. No confusion, no headaches. All his limbs seem to be in order. His pulse is normal. It all seems in order. Clearly, it isn't.

The ache Fallon feels is familiar. There is comfort in depression. It is familiar in this place that is so very foreign. She holds that feeling in her chest. There was a time, years ago, that Fallon had thought her life would end on her terms. Not always in an immediate way, but practical. She had suffered so long that it only seemed inevitable. It's returned, that feeling, in this basement. Only hours ago she was going to propose to Corrin. She had answered the door. Was it Corrin on the other side? Did she say no? Then, did Fallon decide that she had experienced every high and low that she would ever experience?

The clock on the wall says that it is 6:00 by the time the pastor comes back down. He carries two garbage bags. He places them in the room and then trudges back up the stairs. Clare goes to open them but Audrey gets there first. She opens one and pulls out a shirt. It smells like mothballs.

The pastor returns with a large cardboard box.

"I hope there's something you like," he puts the box on the ground. "The cashier probably thinks I'm stockpiling for the winter."

Eva looks into the box. Ramen. She pulls it out and heads over to the little kitchen. She loves ramen, an obscene amount actually.

"Thank you," Leo says for the group. "We appreciate it."

"The clothes should do," the pastor says. "I went through the donation bin and only brought down some of the adult clothing. If you need more, we can help."

Este looks at the bag. It cuts her deep in her soul that she thinks she would rather wear the dirty clothes she was buried in over the hideous shirt that Audrey pinches between her fingers and holds at arms' length.

"Are we supposed to stay here?" Nico asks.

When the pastor doesn't answer, Lydia furrows her brow, "how long?"

"Let's wait for the police to say something," Ajay says. "Thank you, pastor."

The pastor nods and turns to leave. He shuts the door behind him at the top of the stairs.

Ambrose moves closer to the stairs and waits. He is listening for the sound of the door locking shut.

Barry is going to lose it. He looks in the box at the food. Inside there is ramen, Kraft Dinner, and some frozen pizzas. They don't even get the luxury of a microwaved meal. There are a dozen toothbrushes, some toothpaste, hair brushes, and floss, yet no toiletries for showering. The dirt is starting to bother him. Even working as a custodian at the opera house, his clothes never got this soiled. His teeth feel grimy.

For entirely different reasons, Fallon feels disgusting. She rolls onto her side to watch the others crowding around. Audrey gave up on the clothes, so Clare is sorting them out. By size, not gender. Fallon remembers being called homophobic slurs in school, even though she wasn't even out of the closet. Wearing men's clothes shouldn't bother her, but it reminds her of what people might say. Especially the people of Chelster. Without Corrin, the world feels harder to love. She wonders what the world felt like to Corrin after Fallon left.

Kaia does not like being in the church, but her stomach grumbles. She picks up one of the pizzas and laughs, "who wants a gluten-free vegan pizza? On sale for 60% off."

"Didn't even know people out here knew about veganisms," Barry grumbles to no one in particular. "Or celiac disease."

The kettle in the other room beeps, and Eva fills up the cup of ramen with the boiling water. Her brain is impatient, so she leaves the kitchen to join the others.

"So, what's next?" she asks. "Does anybody own a car?"

"Where would we go?" Audrey snorts.

Kaia shrugs. She could figure something out. Then, she wouldn't know what happened to Rory. She isn't tied to Chelster by her own ghost, but by the ghost of her missing girlfriend.

"The police will put us up somewhere," Clare says. They've done it for victims of domestic violence before. There aren't enough people for a women's shelter, but there is somehow enough to hide.

"All of the cars were probably repossessed or sold when we died anyway," Este doesn't mean to smirk, but she does.

Everyone in Chelster has to own a car to do anything. The people who get DUIs ride e-bikes to get around. Este's never had to take a city bus in town, but they've driven by the terminal. There are only five buses, and surely they cannot come more frequently than every half hour.

"We're so screwed," Lydia's voice is quiet. She doesn't envision spending any more time in this basement than absolutely necessary.

"It'll only take two hours to walk to the edge of town," Eva suggests, raising an eyebrow.

"And then what, we fucking hitchhike our way to the airport? It's like, six hours south of here," Audrey rolls their eyes. "Get a fucking grip."

"Let's stay calm," Leo cannot believe that he is the voice of reason here. "We should just make some food and then figure it out later."

Ajay takes it upon himself to pick through the box until he grabs the Kraft Dinner. He's never liked the stuff, but if there is a big enough pot down here, he might be able to cook two boxes at a time and everyone will be fed within half an hour.

"Anyone actually a vegan?" Ajay asks, looking around the group. When no one answers, he carries four boxes into the kitchen.

Nico speaks up, "I'm lactose intolerant!"

"Tough shit," Ajay calls back. His voice is muffled by the walls, "what's it going to do, kill you a second time?"

~~~~~

Oop. Like, big oop. Life has had a few big changes lately, and I make no promises to write more soon, but this feels good. Hopefully reading it makes you feel good too (even if parts of it are emotionally destructive.