The priest had been dead for a few days so he was clearly not following the ritual of pouring holy water into the river. Had it only taken a few days to clear out enough holy water from the river so that the dead could cross a river that they had previously been too terrified to cross? Dave had thought that the priest was mentally unhinged. And yet this observation and the priest's reaction to the text that made up the discs of light that appeared whenever one of the dead were injured made Dave wonder what the priest really knew.
The conclusion of Dave's rambling thoughts shocked Dave by its utter lack of scientific validity. The church had some power over the dead? How was the church connected to this plague of dead? What did they know? And worse, how did they know it? Dave tried to berate himself for falling for a corny conspiracy theory, but the fear-inducing idea remained.
Dave started walking away from the church in a daze. He didn't remember his journey back to his base, but he somehow did it safely. On the way he picked up a bottle of whiskey from the liquor section in the supermarket. He didn't remember much of the rest of that night, but as he sat on his camping bunk he drank down the entire contents of the bottle with little pause.
* * *
Dave was sitting on the roof of the supermarket writing up some observations into one of his notepads when he heard a metallic thump. He quietly got up and put the notepad on the chair where he had been sitting. Crouching down, he snuck to the half-wall nearest to where Dave thought the sound had come from. Carefully, Dave peeked over the half-wall and saw a figure climbing over one of the walls that made up the improvised defences around the road intersection.
Dave straightened up and spoke calmly. "Hello. We meet again."
The figure stopped moving and looked up at Dave. The figure made no attempt to reach for the rifle slung across their back. "Again?"
"Sorry. I find it hard to tell you people apart. You all dress the same."
The figure raised their arms slightly and began looking over what they were wearing.
"I've chatted to you DOA types before," said Dave. "I'm having a break. How about you come up here and join me? I can get some tea going."
The DOA figure looked around before Dave guessed what the confusion was. Dave walked to the side of the supermarket where the front doors were and pointed down. "You can get in through here. The doors aren't locked at the moment but could you make sure the door is firmly closed when you come up? Then you can walk to the storage room at the back where you'll find a ladder up here."
The DOA figure waved and clambered to the supermarket doors. Dave could hear the doors being used. He quickly checked that there was enough water in a kettle on the grill, before walking to the hatch that was above the storage access ladder. When he opened the hatch the DOA figure was looking up. The DOA figure quickly climbed up and onto the roof and Dave closed the hatch behind them.
"Take a seat," said Dave pointing to a canvas, foldable chair. "I'll grab a cup of tea for you. Sorry. There's no milk or sugar, so it's going to be a bit rough to drink."
"That's fine. I've been moving all day and anything would be nice."
Dave walked to the grill and picked up a simmering kettle. He filled up a clean cup with tea and refilled his own cup. He returned the kettle to the edge of the grill and picked up the cups of tea. He placed the cups on a fold out table and sat down on his own chair. The DOA person was looking at Dave's open notebook that Dave had left on the foldout table.
"I was just writing down some observations and thoughts," said Dave. "I had a really weird experience recently and I'm rather struggling to make sense of it."
"We're all struggling to make sense of it," came a voice from behind a mask that made up part of a full helmet. "I've heard of you. You're Dave, aren't you?"
Dave raised his eye brows in surprise. "People have heard of me?"
The DOA figure reached up and underneath their helmet where they fiddled with the chin buckles. With a sigh the DOA figure pulled off their helmet to reveal the face of a young woman. Free of the helmet she gave her tightly cut head of hair a quick shake. "I'm Jane."
Dave nodded at Jane while sipping at his tea. "I'm a little confused by what you said. Are you saying that I'm famous?"
Jane smiled slightly. There was a shadow behind her eyes. "Everything has broken down. There's nothing. Not a single service survived. The police were wiped out. There's no Army command. There's no hint of any politicians being useful, although one could ask if politicians are ever useful."
Dave gave a slight smile at the weak attempt at humour. "There's a camp just across the bridge over there," said Dave pointing south. "There's a few Army guys there, but no one of rank. The camp is a bit of a mess as no one seems to be in control. Although they came together and set a camp on a field, it seems that everyone wants to run the show. The Army guys just seem to want help but they have no idea who to help or how. It's a big pile of confusion."
"How many people are there?"
"I honestly don't
