A Sign

A door opens.

"Good afternoon, welcome to Kay-nan Plastics. May I help you?"

"Oh! I didn't see you there, sorry, I, ah, was looking, someone to ask about..."

"I'd be happy to assist however I can."

"Well, I was actually, you know, wondering about something, ah, different?"

"We also offer consulting services."

"No, not that. I heard from, ah, a friend? 

There's a kind of special, ah, activity here, and..."

"Plastic molding is our specialty, we don't have any other lines of business."

"Well, he said that the lamp outside, it's a kind of signal, being twisted 

like that, it means people are gathering at the, ah, well, the temple."

"I'm sorry, your friend is confused. There's no temple here, just machinery. That old light gets loose sometimes. I'll have our custodian tighten it."

"Oh. Okay. Um, sorry to bother you."

"Not at all. Have a nice day!"

A door closes.

"Albert, get up here! Listen to me, you worm. I've told you twice about the return spring on the lamp, and now it's attracting attention. In Baal's name I swear, if you don't get it fixed, you'll be the one on the altar tonight!"

A Choice

Snow began as they crossed the frontier. "That's just great," muttered Stevens.

Larkin growled, "Keep walking."

Walk, or die.

The city looming out of the snow was broken, though not by fighting. The Syndicate pulled down buildings while retreating, preventing any refugees from staying in the contested territory.

A low moan made Stevens turn around. Brooke had stumbled in the woods, soaked her clothes. She was staggering, wouldn't make it unless she warmed up.

An old factory offered three walls and part of a roof. "We need to stop, make a fire. She's gonna freeze."

No one slowed. Larkin didn't even look back.

He'd managed to coax his tinder alight when the flash threw hard shadows around them; the shockwave knocked more bricks from the wall and showered dust. Another Syndicate gift - booby traps. Outdated munitions attached to tripwires; easy to avoid unless you were so exhausted that you could barely put one foot in front of another.

Brooke didn't stir. He wondered if he'd have to carry her in the morning. Or if he'd be better off looking for another bomb.

A Test

"Teacher, what is faith?"

The older man nodded approvingly. A good question. "Do you know the doorway in the old warehouse, on the second floor, the one with nothing underneath it? Just a door in the wall?"

Excited mutterings. A hand raised up, "So faith is what lets you walk out of that door, and not fall to the ground?"

The resulting glare provided the answer. "No!" They recoiled from unexpected vehemence; he paused, collecting himself. "No, that's not faith. That would be... foolishness, stupidity. You can't step out of a door into thin air and not fall."

He waited, building anticipation, letting them settle into quiet listening again.

"We have faith that the builder had a reason to place that door in that wall with nothing underneath, even though we cannot understand why."

Closing his book, the signal that lessons were over, caused all the students to bow their heads in respectful silence. They sat in contemplation as he carefully stood, picked up his crutches, and slowly hobbled from the room.

No Walk In the Park

"Ask Sam about it, he was an Occupier."

Their faces all turned expectantly toward the grizzled, unkempt man who'd been herding them along these seven weeks.

He nodded, barely visible in the shadow of the half-fallen wall. "Yeah, I was. Not in New York, but I was there, for most of it." They waited. "Well, I don't know what else to say. We had some shitty tents, it was cold, everybody smelled bad. But..." he trailed off, gathering his thoughts. "But we made a difference, I think."

A small voice piped up. "So it was a lot like what we're doing now." Cracked lips smiled underneath a bushy beard. "Yep. We're making a difference. And it's always cold and we all stink but dammit, this is better than one of the Realignment Facilities." A murmur, nodding heads. "I'm glad you agree because we have more walking to do. Everybody get some rest, sundown's in two hours. There's a safehouse but it's twenty miles. We need to be there before dawn."

In the Old Days

"Daddy, what's that?"

"The sign? It's for a church, that had a fallout shelter."

"I don't know what that is."

He paused. How to explain such an antiquated and foreign concept?

"Many years ago people were afraid of, well, this thing they thought might happen, and would be very bad. It would be the end of the world. And this is a place they went because they were afraid."

Wide eyes. "What thing?"

"It was something that would come from the sky. It would be so powerful that nobody could stop it. The people thought that if they came here, they would be okay, and afterwards they could start over again and make new lives."

"So this was a special place?"

"Well, no, not really, but they thought so. Nowadays we know that it wouldn't really have helped, but that's okay, because we also know that the thing they were afraid of will never happen."

"Oh. That's good. Thank you, Daddy."

"You're welcome." He sighed. At least he hadn't had to explain what a fallout shelter was...