Worlds Apart_A Survival Story Yet Untold by C. A. Rudolph

Author:C. A. Rudolph [Rudolph, C. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Camp Hill

Grid down +227 days

Tuesday, May 11th. Late evening.

Once outside, Jade hotfooted through the courtyard, and as the distance increased between her and the Legatos’ home, where Alan was, the faster her pace developed. Soon, the soles of her shoes met with the cracked, potholed asphalt of Fillmore Street, and she accelerated into a full-on sprint, her only destination being to get away.

Jade could feel herself nearing a breaking point, and she knew the best place for her to be was somewhere else. She needed to distance herself, and being alone for a while would give her the space she needed to clear her mind, though she hadn’t gone strictly solo. Jade had brought along a rare, unopened bottle of Wild Turkey 101 straight bourbon she’d appropriated from the Legatos’ so-called emergency liquor provisions. She didn’t know if Valerie and Steve had been saving it for a special occasion or if they’d even notice its absence, but right now, she couldn’t care less.

After several minutes of running, followed by a mile of strolling about aimlessly, Jade could see the steeple atop St. Peter’s church had gotten closer than it had been. She hadn’t intended on going in that direction, but in her endorphin-fueled stupor magnified by her present disposition, she might’ve been doing so the entire time unwittingly. Maybe Jade’s subconscious was trying to tell her something. Maybe the time had come to cast aside her inhibitions once and for all and go inside the church, like she’d been yearning to since last November.

Jade stuffed the whiskey bottle in a bush, camouflaging it with leaves and grass clippings for safekeeping, knowing she’d return for it. She then made her way to the patio outside the church’s main doors, which overlooked and provided a grand view of the lower town and the convergence of the rivers. Finding the doors unlocked, she walked inside to an empty sanctuary lit by several brightly burning oil lanterns and took a moment to study the church’s ornate, neo-Gothic interior and the massive wooden organ pipes situated on the far wall behind the altar.

Jade went to the altar, knelt, and made the sign of the cross before drifting to one of the two confessionals. There wasn’t anyone else around, no one waiting in line for confession, so she opened the door, stepped in, and got down on her knees. She waited for some time, expecting someone to join her in the other chamber, though no one ever did.

On the same day Valerie had informed Jade she was a follower of Wicca and a nondenominational paganist, Jade had learned that Father Markham had passed away only weeks before the collapse, and his replacement had yet to be found. No one was present to hear confession today, but that wasn’t about to stop her. Not having confessed in a number of years and feeling an acute desire to do so, she wasn’t beyond throwing caution to the wind.

Jade could barely recall her last confession or what she’d confessed.

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