Comfort The Disturbed (Version 1)

Chapter 1: Long Day

The doors to the church stood ajar, looking both inviting and dangerous. The sun was setting behind the fringe of trees surrounding the small, oddly placed building, and thus far it was the only place the group had seen for at least two miles.

"We're going to have to stop here for the night." Ricardo Rios spoke softly, his voice near a whisper, his eyes lazily scanning the perimeter. He was tired, and his body cried out for rest.

"I don't like the look of this place." Torrey Marie White, leader to the group, shook her head, her fiery red hair bobbing with her movements. Her body was aching, but she couldn't worry about that now; all she could think about was finding her group a safe place to bunk for the night.

"It's the only place around for miles, Tor." Monica White stifled a yawn, her mouth pulling down sharply at the corners. Monica wasn't Torrey's blood relative; Monica had adopted Torrey's last name when the world went to hell, choosing to forget her lost family in place of her new one.

"I know. But why would the door be open like that? Makes me wonder who else has been here recently." Torrey cautiously walked forward, despite her instinct's protest, her head swiveling around quickly to make sure there was no one else around. She unsheathed her machete, holding it poised in front of her as her eyes surveyed the inside of the church.

The pews were in their proper places, the windows unbroken, the statue of Christ staring out sadly over everything. It would be a safe place to camp for the night, provided they could seal the door and cover the windows. And, truth be told, Torrey felt safer in a church, as if God were watching over her family more closely if they were in one.

Torrey lowered her weapon, a signal to the others that everything was safe, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Monica, Ricardo, start covering up as many windows as you can. We'll stack pews in front of them if we have to. I'll chain the door, and then come help you." Torrey nodded to her group, pulling the long string of chain from her bag as she spoke. They had learned long ago that rope could only stand so much force before it broke, but with the proper placement a chain could hold forever. She made sure the double doors were shut securely before intricately twisting the links over, under, and through the handles. She gave the door a tug, smiling when it barely moved, and snapped a small padlock into place on the twining links.

Torrey's small group had started carrying sheets with them wherever they went, just in case they came across a place like this church where they needed to cover the windows, and no wood was available. They managed to hang cloth from every window besides one. After struggling to pry the pews out of the floor and stack them in front of the window, everyone collapsed in a heap beside the wooden statue of Christ.

Ricardo lay back on the floor, his curly black hair splaying wildly around his face, and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, not quite ready to sleep, but definitely ready to wind down.

Torrey nudged him gently with the toe of her boot. "Gotta eat and drink something, hun. You need to keep your strength up." She pulled her backpack up onto her legs and rifled through the contents. A bright smile lit her features as she pulled out three bags of beef jerky, and one large can of corn. She handed a bag to each of her friends, laying hers aside so that she could remove the lid of the can with her switchblade. It wasn't the best meal they'd ever had, but it would keep them alive for a while longer.

The trio ate in comfortable silence, none of them quite sure of what to say. After living together for so long they had run out of things to talk about.

Torrey, finished with her food, wiped her hands on her dingy black jeans and gulped down some water from the gallon she'd been carrying with her. Everyone had their own gallon, but if one of them ran low the others would pitch in a little bit to help them make it through.

Monica, who had remained quiet since they entered the church, spoke in a hushed whisper. "Do you ever miss your families?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere, but one look into the girl's wide, brown eyes showed that her family was on her mind that night.

"I miss my mom, and my cat, but not my dad; not my brother, either, if I'm being honest. He was a douche." Ricardo answered as he fell back to the floor again, resting his hands behind his head.

Torrey patted Ricardo's abdomen affectionately, and took Monica's hand in her own. "You guys are my family." She smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes, not that the other two seemed to notice. Ricardo and Monica were the closest thing she'd had to a family even before the outbreak, but she didn't particularly like talking about that. She was truly lucky that she had them with her; she might have gone crazy from the loneliness of the apocalypse months ago if not for her friends.

"I miss mine." Monica's voice could barely be heard, it was so quiet and shaky. The stick-thin girl pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her tiny legs, and began to cry. The sobs were muffled because her face was pressed into her jeans, but they broke Torrey's heart just the same. Monica was more than Torrey's friend, she was Torrey's sister, by spirit rather than blood, which made their bond that much stronger.

Torrey inched over to her friend and pulled Monica into a gentle hug. "It's alright, Monica. They're in Heaven now, watching over you. They're keeping you safe, just like I am." Torrey laid her head on top of Monica's, letting the girl cry on her shoulder.

"I just want to be strong, like you. You take everything so calmly, like nothing ever affects you. I want to be like that." Monica shook her head, feeling inadequate.

"You are strong, honey. I act calm because that's how you both need me to be, but don't think for one second that I'm not a wreck inside over everything that's happened to us." Torrey rubbed soothing circles into Monica's shoulder, trying to comfort her.

Monica quieted after that, her eyes running dry fairly quickly. "Do you miss your family, Tor? Your real family, I mean."

Torrey bit her lip, thinking of the best way to answer. In the end, she chose to just be straight-forward. "No, I don't miss them, at least not all that much. My mom… well, you know how she was. She'd never survive this life, this world. Perhaps it's better that she's gone. And I honestly don't know where my dad is. I'm guessing he's still alive, though. No one's going to take him out but God Almighty, and until that day comes he'll fight for his life. But I don't miss him. He was hard on me, more than he should have been, and if he had been here with us I'm sure he would have weighed us down. Everything had to be his way, you know, and that way never got us very far when we were together, not even before all this happened to the world." Torrey closed her eyes, picturing her father's face distinctly behind her eyelids. She wondered vaguely if he had been able to shave his head, or if he had to just let it grow out now.

Silence fell over the group once more, the memories making everyone melancholy.

"Alright, guys, it's been a long day. Let's try to get some sleep. We've got to try to find a more permanent shelter tomorrow." Torrey squeezed Monica's shoulders and gave Ricardo another abdominal pat one more time before standing, and moving to a pew to bunk on for the night. It was nowhere near as comfortable as a bed would have been, but anything was better than the floor.