The Dead

“Oh, that’s fine,” Camille said. “All that garbage didn’t save your wife and son, did it?”

MacAleer stared at her, shook his head. “I told you before-they didn’t believe.”

“Well,” Max said, “while we’re all waiting for God’s grace to descend, I think it’s high time we got some shut- eye. Anyone want to take first watch?”

None of them volunteered.

“Nominating me, huh?” Max asked.

Dennis handed him the shotgun.

Later that afternoon, while Father Chuck was on watch, Max was awakened by the hushed tones of a conversation between Dennis and Camille. The warmth of the propane heater washing over him, he felt no immediate need to rise; eyes closed, he listened.

“But we were both found guilty,” Camille was saying. “Even if all these things you’re saying about God are true, what difference does it make? He’s condemned us.”

“There might be more to it than that,” Dennis answered. “If we died now, maybe it would mean damnation. But maybe we’ve been given a second chance. He’s let us live this long. He must’ve had some purpose.”

“What kind of purpose?” Camille asked.

“To save us. From ourselves. Sometimes, these last few days, I’ve thought it was all over, sworn He wanted me damned. But always I felt something else, too. His love, I suppose. I think He’s been after me all along. Chasing me. That’s why I’ve been talking to Max. He knows about God.”

“If he knows so much, why didn’t he get taken up with the rest of those people?”

“I didn’t say I thought he was good enough for Heaven, Camille. I said he knows things. Just like MacAleer.”

“MacAleer’s crazy,” Camille answered. Max wondered why she got no challenge from MacAleer on this; perhaps he was sleeping. Or not close enough to hear.

“In some ways,” Dennis agreed.

“He’s an awful man,” Camille went on.

“Yeah,” Dennis agreed. “He’s a far cry from Jesus. But it’s hard living up to ideals. Sometimes you see the right thing, but you’re powerless to do it. Sometimes you don’t want to do it. But whatever you say, MacAleer was the first one to figure out what’s going on, wasn’t he?”

“Dennis,” Camille said, “why do you keep saying that? How do you know he’s right?”

“I can feel it. As sure as I can feel God’s after me.”

“I don’t feel anything,” Camille said miserably. “Except afraid. I can’t put any trust in God. Not after what he’s done to us. What did we do to deserve this? It’s not as if we’re murderers.”

“No? “

Camille said nothing for a few moments. “The test showed it was mongoloid.”

“Jimmy Kolkowsky was a mongoloid,” Dennis answered. “And I never met a sweeter kid.”

“You were the one who talked me into it,” Camille said.

“That just means we’re both guilty.”

“It was an honest mistake.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was just the easy thing to do.”

“Two of my friends have had abortions.”

“So that makes it okay, huh?”

“I didn’t say that. If I had it to do over, I wouldn’t have listened to you. But I just can’t believe we’re too much worse than anybody else.”

“You know what?” Dennis asked, “I don’t think that makes any difference. Because I don’t think people are so nice.”

“But what can we do? Can we make ourselves good enough?”

“God can change us,” Dennis answered. “If we believe.”

“But how can we believe?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve been praying. Maybe He’ll forgive us.”

“He doesn’t forgive. He tortures.”

“Then we’re doomed anyway.”

They lapsed into silence.

Not wanting them to know he’d been eavesdropping, Max continued to pretend he was asleep. He took some pleasure in Dennis’s change of heart. He had, after all, helped him along his way.

But that isn’t enough, apparently, Max told himself. Hasn’t earned you the required brownie points with God…

Scoring points with the Man was impossible in any case, Max knew. He realized he was a sinner.

But he was also a believer. He’d been going through all the necessary motions when the world came crashing apart, taking the sacraments, stocking up on grace. He couldn’t believe he’d committed any enormities since his last absolution.

So why was he still here? Had he missed something at confession? Like most Catholics, he was very good at describing his sins so as to incur the least possible wrath from the priest, fudging details, passing off vile fantasies as “impure thoughts” (which of course they were-and then some). He also did some outright editing. But that was necessary. Some sins weren’t as serious as others. Maybe he had made mistakes in judgment; he was only human.

Hell, he thought. I’m just not that bad-

He caught himself.

Shit, you sound just like Camille.

Suddenly he remembered his pleasure when Father Chuck didn’t go back to die with those wretched people, his delight at the priest’s shame. And then there was that wonderful feeling of power when Uncle Buddy had backed down in the shelter, and that sly satisfaction at coming up with all those quick arguments whenever anyone challenged his plans, even when he had the same doubts…

No, Max, he thought, you’re not exactly in a state of grace.

But he did know something about God. He believed-or at least refused to consider the possibility that he didn’t. That was something. We are saved by faith, Paul had said.

But there were other texts.

The devils in Hell believe. And tremble.

Max realized he was trembling now. Slightly.

An hour passed. Daylight still shone through a small aperture in the manhole cover above them, but aside from that, there was no other illumination in the junction, unless Father Chuck turned the gun-mounted flashlight on.

“What time is it?” Max asked.

Dennis flicked on his watch’s LED. “About six-thirty. I’d say we have another hour and a half till dark.”

“Isn’t it about time someone else took watch?” Father Chuck asked.

“Sure,” Dennis said. The priest turned on the flashlight, and Dennis took the gun from him, stationing himself at the mouth of the main pipe, down which they had originally come.

“I have to go, uh… relieve myself,” Father Chuck said, and started to crawl past him.

“Not in the main pipe, Father,” Max said. “We’ll be heading back that way.”

“I was going to go in one of the side passages-”

“They feed into the main. So make sure you go in far enough to…”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Okay, Father.”

The priest started forward again. “Could you shine that light up this way?” he asked.