Louis Collins: A Post-American Odyssey

They headed south through the trees until Louis saw a church between the pines. It stood on a sandy rise beside a narrow county road. The white paint had faded from its clapboard walls, and the porch sagged toward one end. A blackened wooden cross hung above the door. A rusted swing set stood beside the building, and three old gravestones leaned in the grass behind it.

Gladice crouched.

“Nobody move,” she said quietly.

The others stopped. Louis could see no vehicles or movement around the church. He lowered himself behind a fallen pine and rested the cane across his thighs. His knee hurt worse after the walk. Jennifer knelt beside Angelique.

Gladice checked the windows, the porch, and the ground around the building.

“Circle left,” she said. “I’ll take the right.”

Angelique nodded and moved through the pines toward the left side of the church. Gladice circled right with the rifle raised. Louis drew his pistol and waited with Jennifer.

“Stay down,” he said.

She nodded. The county road remained empty. Gladice returned from the right side of the church. Angelique appeared from the left a few seconds later.

“Clear,” Gladice said.

Angelique nodded. “No tracks for now.”

Louis looked at the church again. “We will stay in until nightfall.”

Gladice looked toward the building. “Think it’s safe?”

“No. But it’s the best we have.”

She shrugged. “Then we go in.”

They crossed the rise and reached the porch. The boards sagged under their weight but held. Near the entrance, Louis smelled damp wood and mold. Gladice tried the latch. It stuck, and the doorframe cracked when she forced it open. Louis looked back toward the road at the sound. Inside, two sections of pews faced a low platform with a lectern and a cracked upright piano. Dust covered the pews and floor. A side door near the platform led to a narrow passage and a small back room.

Gladice checked the back room, the rear door, and the windows. Angelique went to the front and looked through the old glass toward the porch and road. Jennifer stayed beside the entrance until Louis touched her sleeve. She flinched, then followed him inside. Louis reached the nearest pew before the pain in his knee forced him to sit.

“Now we rest.” Gladice returned to the main room and closed the side door behind her. “Until dark.”

Angelique nodded and sat at the far end of the pew with the shotgun across her knees.

“Eat something while you can,” Gladice said. “We don’t know what tonight will be like.”

She opened the backpack and handed out beef jerky sticks, crackers, chocolates, and bottles of water. Jennifer accepted her share without speaking and placed the valise on the pew beside her. For a while, they ate without speaking. Louis stretched his injured leg into the aisle. His knee still hurt.

“Take your pills,” Gladice said.

He looked at her.

She took out the bottle from her backpack and gave it to him. “Before we need you sharp and you’re too stubborn to admit you can’t stand.”

Louis took it, shook one pill into his palm, and swallowed it with water. Gladice watched until he had finished.

“That’s better,” she said.

Louis rested the cane across his knees and leaned back against the pew. His heartbeat had not settled. Jennifer placed the valise at the end of the rear pew and looked around. Gladice took two empty cans, a length of curtain cord, and a box of tacks from the backpack.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked.

“Alarms,” she said. She held up the cans tied to the cord. “If someone opens the doors, we will know before they are inside.”

“Good thinking.”

“I used to do this for field camps.” She knelt and secured the cord near the front door. “Old habits.”

“Happy you have them.”

Gladice did not answer. She tied the cord to the latch and positioned the cans where they would rattle if the door opened. Then she set another line at the back door. When she finished, Louis leaned against the pew and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Jennifer was sitting in the last row. The valise stood open beside her, and a small prayer book rested in her lap. Her head was bowed. At first he thought she was only staring at the cover. Then he saw her lips moving. He could not hear the words.

She stopped before finishing. Her fingers tightened around the book. She opened her mouth, tried to continue, and lowered her head. Angelique stood beside the window and watched her without approaching. After a minute, Jennifer closed the prayer book and held it against her chest.

Louis closed his eyes again. He woke when Angelique touched his shoulder. She stood beside him with one finger against her lips. Sunlight now fell directly through the windows.

“How long?” he murmured.

“Three hours.” Angelique withdrew her hand. “Maybe a little more.”

His knee had stiffened while he slept. When he straightened his leg, pain ran up into his hip again. Gladice sat cross-legged on the floor near the front pew with the rifle across her lap. The radio beside her was turned low.

“Anything?” Louis asked.

“More roadblocks.” Gladice spoke without looking back. “They’re setting up on the back roads too.”

She turned up the volume.

“—Statewide advisory to remain in homes unless travel is essential. All non-military traffic must stop and present identification. Failure to comply may result in—”

Gladice turned it down again. Jennifer flinched at the last words. Angelique crossed to her and placed a bottle of water on the pew beside her. Louis pushed himself upright. The pew creaked under him. The prayer book lay closed beside Jennifer’s hand.

“You alright?” he asked.

Jennifer looked at him, then nodded.

“What’s the Dominion like?” she asked.

Louis hesitated and leaned back against the pew. “Bright. Warm. Noisy. Lots of screens, lights, and drones. People dress however they want. You can buy almost anything at any hour.”

She blinked. “That sounds strange.”

Louis smiled. “It is. In a good way.” He paused. “There are beaches. Good food. Good music. You would like it.”

She nodded. “And the people?”

“Complicated.” He shrugged. “Like everywhere else. Some kind, some mean. But mostly they just want to have fun and not think too hard about other people’s business.”

She looked down at her hands. “I’ve never seen an ocean.”

“You will.” He wanted it to be true.

She looked up at him. Then she spoke more quietly. “I liked to read about the sea. When I was little. I had a book with pictures of islands and ships.”

“Did you?”

She nodded. “My mother gave it to me.” Her voice broke. She swallowed and looked away. “I kept it until father made me burn it. He said it was wrong to want things from the outside world.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “I cried when it burned.”

Louis nodded and said nothing.

She looked back at him. “Do you think I will go to hell?”

“No.” He took a breath. “It doesn’t exist.”

“How do you know?”

“Because people make it up so they can scare each other.”

Jennifer stared at him. Her voice dropped. “You don’t believe in God?”

“No. I don’t.”

She looked toward the hymn board on the back wall. “My father told me about the fire. He said it was real. That the Lord punishes the wicked.”

Louis kept his voice even. “People who say that are usually the wicked. You did a good thing when you let us out of the house. That’s what matters.”

She shook her head. “I betrayed my family.”

“You did not. They betrayed you.”

Jennifer lowered her head and did not answer. Louis did not press her. He rested his forearms on the pew in front of him.

“Do you think this place can hold until nightfall?” he asked Gladice.

“Maybe.” She did not sound convinced. “I don’t like how many patrols they’re putting on the roads.”

“Should we move now?”

“Not yet.” Gladice listened to the radio. “We will be more visible if we leave in daylight.”

“True.”

“You know how to use a gun, Jenny?” she asked without turning.

Jennifer looked up. “No.”

“Good time to learn.” Gladice opened the field bag, took out a pistol, and held it up. “This one is easy. Nine millimeter. Safety here. Magazine here. Point at the enemy. Pull trigger.”

Jennifer stared at it. “I can’t shoot someone.”

“You might not have a choice.” Gladice shrugged. “Let me teach you anyway.”

Jennifer stood and joined her at the front pew. Gladice removed the magazine, checked the chamber, and handed her the unloaded pistol. She showed her how to hold it, work the safety, and insert the magazine. Jennifer copied each step. Her hands shook. Gladice took the pistol back, removed the magazine, checked the chamber again, and handed both to her. Jennifer missed the magazine well twice before it locked into place.

“Again,” Gladice said.

Jennifer repeated the sequence. Angelique returned to the window. Louis listened to the low radio and the dry clicks of the unloaded pistol.

Then, without warning, an engine sounded in the distance and grew louder. Louis raised his head.

“Stay low,” Gladice said at once.

She moved to the front window, crouched below the sill, and looked outside.

“Vehicle,” she said. “One truck.”

Louis crouched behind the second pew with the pistol in both hands. He laid the cane on the floor beside him. Through the lower corner of the front window, he saw a truck pass the scrub oaks and stop in the lot. Two doors slammed outside. Men spoke as their boots crossed the gravel. Louis could not make out the words. One of them laughed.

Jennifer’s face had gone white. Angelique crouched beside her with one hand braced against the pew. Gladice raised three fingers. A man stepped onto the porch. The boards creaked beneath him. The door handle turned slowly, pulling the cord tight enough for the cans to touch. A second man came up beside him. A third voice called from farther back in the lot.

“Locked.”

“So kick it.”

“Hold on.”

Louis could not tell whether they were local guards, volunteers, or soldiers. The handle turned again, harder this time. He tightened both hands around the pistol and aimed at the door. Gladice brought the rifle to her shoulder. Angelique watched the entrance from beside Jennifer. Jennifer covered her mouth and gripped the edge of the pew.

The men shifted on the porch. Then a boot struck the door. The cans hit one another with a loud metallic clatter. The door bent inward but held. A second kick struck it. Gladice aimed at the door.