Chapter X: Salvation
Axl's vision blurred as he drove the motorcycle down the lonely road. Judging by the sun it was past three, and he had covered far more distance that he thought he would have by now. But the injury in his shoulder still bled, causing a steady pain to shoot through him as he continued, not to mention the weakness he felt from the unending loss of blood.
"Damn, if I don't get patched up soon I'll bleed to death long before I reach that prisonBut where the heck can I find" Axl felt dizzy, the motorcycle swayed a bit. Axl tried to maintain control, but still felt it slip away from him.
He slowed the motorcycle down but was unable to keep steady. He held on tightly as it fell onto its side, skidding against the pavement. He let go and dropped off it, rolling to a stop as the cycle went for another ten feet, grinding to a halt by a light post.
"Hell" He got up, his eyes feeling heavier and heavier by the moment, as did the gear and the backpack he still wore. The air felt colder, but more of an unnatural cold. He walked over to the cycle, but realized his condition was in reality far worse than he had guessed and leaned against the pole clutching his shoulder.
Axl closed his eyes and whispered in a form of prayer, "Don't let me die herethere's too much left for meIf I fail, more and more will lose their lives to the Virus" he opened his eyes slightly, the shadow of his hat protecting them from the sun's light. He spoke a little louder and a little less dramatic, a small smile on his face, "And it'd suck to die like this, there has to be some other way"
In his broken state he turned his head to the right, only to be hit with the glare of the sun's rays off a multi-colored surface, causing him lower his head to raise his arm to block it. He groaned as he peeked from under his hat back at it, and through the glare he saw what was bouncing the light.
Axl stood up straight and looked up at the grand tower of a large, white building topped by a cross over a huge stained-glass window in the Gothic-style architecture.
He smiled tiredly, "The Cathedral" With no other options in mind and his body now weary, he began to walk across the street toward the Church in the faint hope of finding sanctuary. His walk was wobbly and his eyes left half-open, but he kept going, as if he had no control over his actions. The smell of incense filled his nose; the holy aroma seemed to guide him to its main doors. He had to lean against the center metal railing up the stairs as he walked up.
The doors creaked as he pushed them open, swinging them just enough to allow him to slip through. They closed behind him as Axl stepped into the main aisle, his boots clicking on the floor of white marble against the sound of soft chants. The inside of the Cathedral was reddish-orange as the light entered through massive clear windows, mosaics of Catholic Saints adorning the walls below them as they watched over the empty Church. The walls reached a hundred feet to the ceiling, which was decorated with rows of electric chandeliers and Boroque architecture along the edges. The pews from the center of the Cathedral to the altar were intact and gleamed of a beautiful wood finish. However, as Axl looked to his left and right, he saw the pews alongside him were in disarray, many of them split or tipped over to form some sort of barricade.
Upon closer inspection, he saw several rifles strewn beneath them beside a number of empty clips. "Whathappened to the people here" His strength was about to give as he fell to his knees. He turned his head up toward the altar, seeing the giant Crucifix above it, with the image of Christ the moment after his passing hanging upon it.
Axl stared, focusing the best he could on the wounds on the image and then checked his own. He chuckled, looking back to the Cross. "Well, I guess I can't complain The ultimate price in service to others, but from what I remember you suffered far worse than I have" The walls spun, but Axl did all he could to keep looking at the Cross.
He continued to talk to the hanging image, as if he were speaking to someone he's known for years right in front of him, desperation in his voice, "Tell me, tell me how you did itI don't think I can keep going like thisI beg of you, give me just a little more time" The words hereafter formed were inaudible and at times did not make sense, but they made sense to him. He felt the life within him begin to drain.
Once Axl stopped mumbling to himself, he noticed below the cross someone in white kneeling while clutching a gold staff with a cross on it, holding it high toward the altar. In the quiet he could hear the man speaking in Latin, and Axl recognized the clothing and the prayers, identifying the man as a priest.
The priest looked back in a startled manner, thinking he had heard something and saw the tired and blood-soaked Axl collapse onto the ground. He rose from his place and gasped, "Oh my God!" Axl had passed out once again.
-
"thy will be done, on earth" Axl's eyes opened slowly to the sound of the prayer. He sat up and held his aching head, moving his hand over his face to brush off the sleep and looked around, seeing he was in front of the altar in the Church. He then remembered his injury, but felt no pain now. He checked his shoulder under his clothes; there wasn't even a trace of blood on his overshirt. Beside him was a used can of First Aid Spray.
"Ok, what in the hell? What happened?" Axl checked his watch, it was 4:30. He then reached for the weapons on his back, finding that they had been removed. He only had his Revolver. But before Axl could react to this alarming turn of events, he heard a voice.
"Oh, good! You're awake, I didn't think you'd be up so early! It's by the grace of God you stumbled in here, you would have died for sure if you had kept bleeding like that!"
Axl couldn't see the man, but wasn't apprehensive. If it were an enemy, they'd have killed him by now. Even so, he'd stay on his guard. "Yeah, I knowwho are you and where are my weapons?" Axl saw a tall, thin man in a black garment with a white collar walk in front of him from behind the altar. He had white hair, glasses, and a noticeable Irish accent. It was the priest he saw before he had passed out.
The priest smiled, "I am Father Michael O'Brien. This is Eagle Point Cathedral, I've been its pastor for almost ten years now. I put your weapons away, they're safe."
"WellIt's nice to meet you," Axl looked down the aisle to the destroyed pews and motioned to them with a nod. "What happened here? There looks to be signs of a battle. Are there any people here other than you?"
The priest walked over and sat by Axl. He looked down, but still spoke in a semi-cheery voice, even though Axl could tell from his expression that it was a bad memory. "A few days ago when all the people started to becomezombies, the entire city fell into chaos. Almost everywhere you looked, people were dying or becoming monsters."
Axl nodded silently. This tragedy was played out over and over throughout the history of the virus, tests for the B.O.W.'s and experiments on the effects of the weapon.
The priest continued, "Only a handful of people came to seek refuge in the Church. They had survived only because they had weaponry, and still they lost many family and friends on the way. Mothers who lost their children, fathers whose entire families were devoured before them, children orphaned who carried their younger siblings on their backs" Michael noticed Axl's movement in the corner of his eye, something seemed wrong.
Axl shuddered, his heart feeling a tight grip over it. The images of his own past flashed before him, from his childhood to this mission, causing him to feel a horrible pain, though it was far different than the stab-wound he had sustained before. He fell forward slightly, holding his stomach with a blank stare. He could still remember the screams of all those innocent people so clearly
O'Brien had stopped as he saw Axl visibly in pain, "I should stop, you must still not be well, my son."
"No! Please, I want to know what happened here!" Axl looked at him, his face sincere, "Tell me" Axl regained his composure again, he had to stop letting his memories affect him like this.
Father O'Brien sighed and looked back to the pews, "The pews before you were a last stand between those survivors and the legions of monsters that came through those doors. After a half-hour, they ran out of bulletsand they were overrun. I was the only one to survive, I had been tending to the dying in the room behind the crucifix."
Axl spoke up, "But, wouldn't they have still smelled you or found you while still searching for morefood?" Axl cringed for having to use the word, but that was the simple truth.
The priest looked at him, his eyes still held a warm, caring sparkle. "My son, I'm not sure of what happened." He stood up and took the cross-staff that rested on top of the altar. Axl noticed dried blood on its ends. "I had to fight several on my own, it took a long time and I nearly passed out from the exhaustion, but before I gave up, the surviving monsters simply stopped attacking and left. It was a miracle," he laughed grimly and forced a smile, "and it is a miracle you found this place! When you had passed out we thought it was too late to save you. Even if you lived, you might have been infected by the virus and still be lost. After I washed the blood from your clothes"
Despite his behavior, Axl had not let down his guard, still ready for anything. Axl became suspicious, looking at the priest and getting his hand ready to grab his .357 "How did you know it was a virus that caused all this, and what do you mean we'?"
The priest's face became solemn as he looked at Axl who still sat on the ground. He thought to himself, "This boy has seen much fighting, I can see it in the way he acts." He took a deep breath and motioned Axl to follow him.
"Come with me my son, there is one other you must see."
Axl got up, keeping his hand on his weapon. He followed the priest into a back room behind the altar. The door opened inward smoothly, a rush of cool, damp air brushing past Axl as he stepped in before the priest. Axl saw what was so special about the room, and drew his pistol. "What in the hell is this?!"
In the center of the room, lit by a lone light bulb hanging from the ceiling, lay the corpse of a human atop a large wood table; a yellowed, blood-stained blanket over its lower half. The make-shift paper shade on the bulb focused the light in the darkened room onto the body; Axl could recognize the last stages of infection on the body, which was covered in severe rot on its neck, arms, and anything else not concealed by its torn, loose-fitting shirt. On its head, the right cheek had fallen off and the eyes were beginning to glaze.
Axl felt disgusted as the smell of death replaced the incense of the main church. He moved a few more steps from the door and turned to face the priest, aiming his gun at him. "This is sick, why did you bring me here? You had best answer all of my questions, Padre." The priest was speechless as he stared down the barrel of the magnum pointing at his chest.
From behind, Axl heard several gasps and looked over his shoulder. The zombie coughed and began to move, sprawling on the table. Axl placed his right foot forward and retrained his weapon on the viral.
"Stand back, it's still alive!" The priest ran and placed his hands over the gun, trying to stop Axl. Axl pushed him aside with his left arm and aimed at the zombie's torso. "Damn it, what is wrong with you? Let me kill it!"
"Please, my child! This man saved you!" cried the priest on the floor. Axl lowered his weapon and faced him again, disbelieving.
"What do you mean, it saved me'? It's a mindless killer, it has to die!"
"The man on the table has been infected severely for a long time, I've been caring for him till he passes! When you collapsed, he brought the last of his medical supplies out to you and used his knowledge to heal your injuries. He may look like one of them, but for the love of God he still has his soul!"
Axl looked at the priest and back to the zombie, still sprawling as if it were in pain. It convulsed as the virus ate at its mind and body, driving the poor soul mad. Still, he had to be careful, it was infected and extremely dangerous.
The priest spoke more calmly between breaths now that Axl had stood down, "He used the last of his strength to save you instead of resting to continue fighting the virus which torments him this very moment. Please, don't kill him"
The infected man stopped convulsing, laying back down onto the table as it still gasped for air. Axl walked over to it, ready to use his weapon but leaving it in his hand at his side. It looked at him through the thin white membrane developing over its eyes. As Axl looked into them, he saw the sadness and helplessness in them. He felt pity for the man whose humanity was still trapped inside.
Axl spoke to the priest, looking right back at it. "What is his name"
To Axl's surprise, it answered in a scratchy, exhausted voice, "Marrrtin" The zombie's breathing slowed and it closed its eyes.
Father O'Brien walked over and put his hand on Axl's shoulder, "Martin is asleep now. We'll return later when he can speak more clearly. He's been through so much these past weekseven standing has become far too difficult, and each waking moment he suffers."
Axl didn't move, still beside the man on the table, staring at his face. "This virusbrings only suffering"
Something else then caught his attention, though he remained still to not give himself away. A torn nametag hung from the zombie's shirt, a faded Umbrella logo still visible on it. Axl knew what it meant and thought to himself, "Perhaps I should wait for him to rest, he may know something"
