CHAPTER 17: TWISTED SISTER
September 5, afternoon
The chapel doors opened, letting the haze that permeated all of town spill in. Harlan took an uneasy step forward, eyes and ears peeled for any worshipers who may have passed on to the afterlife but left a rotting monster behind. Carr quietly closed the doors behind them. It was a small room, pews flanked a center aisle with an alter at the end. A piano sat against the northern wall. Right above it, written in what the two hoped was red paint, were the words "THE END IS EXTREMELY FUCKING NIGH."
Harlan took a seat in the second row. Carr stood by the doors, silent.
He sat there for a few minutes, thinking to himself about how he ended up here. How his sister may not have much longer. How raising Junior will probably fall to him. He clasped his hands together and, for the first time in more than a decade, made a sincere prayer.
The moment was interrupted by Carr. "Stay sharp, I think I saw something."
Harlan brought his head up and swiveled around. The chapel was empty, nothing could've hidden from them. He looked by the piano when he saw it, through the window there was a dark shape in the haze. It vanished as soon as he saw it.
"Is it one of them?"
"Maybe." Carr kept her hand on the hilt of her machete. "Maybe not."
Harlan sighed and pulled the axe off his back. Killing, killing, more killing. He didn't have the energy for it right now. His eyes flicked between the windows lining the chapel, waiting for another dark spot to materialize. Carr quickly locked the doors.
They met in the middle of the room and stood back to back, scanning any way their unseen visitor could get inside. There was a gentle knock at the door, making the two jump. Not a bang, not a slam, but a very living knock.
"Hello?" A meek voice asked from outside.
Harlan and Carr exchanged glances. He was concerned, she was skeptical.
"Are you in there?" The voice continued. It tried to open the door. "You can come out. I mean you no harm."
"Who the fuck?" Harlan whispered.
"I don't see any more shadows." Carr replied.
"What do we do?"
"Don't do anything stupid." Carr split from Harlan and snuck to one of the windows. After peering outside, she popped it open and hopped outside.
"Thanks a lot!" He hissed.
"Are you alive in there?" The voice sounded young.
Harlan thought about chasing after Carr, she flat out abandoned him to deal with this… whatever or whoever this is. His thoughts were interrupted by a rattling sound, followed by the doors opening to reveal a small figure draped in cloth.
The gray haze began to pour in.
"W-Who are you?" Harlan held his axe up. The figure stepped in, illuminated from behind by the haze. He couldn't see her face.
"I am Sister Ophelia. Please, don't be frightened." Harlan kept his axe up anyway. "What may I call you?" Something about the way she moved inside the chapel put him on edge.
"I'm nobody." Harlan stepped back as she continued her approach. Sensing tension, she stopped.
"You don't need to worry, we are all His children. I won't harm you." She held out her hand. "Surely you must be hungry."
Harlan didn't budge, but his stomach said all that needed to be said.
"We have food."
"Who's we?"
"There are more of us. In the recreation center."
"The what?"
"The… the other building?" She pointed to the haze.
"More of who?"
"Fellow lost souls who have been left behind by God." She held her hand out again. "Do you need help, brother?"
Brother?
"I-I'm fine." His voice betrayed him. "Just leave. Please."
"This is my chapel. I'm the one who should be asking you to leave."
"I thought everyone was welcome in God's house?"
"You will feel more welcome with a full stomach. Please, come with me." The woman, Sister Ophelia, walked into the haze. Every nerve in Harlan's body was screaming to run away, but he was hungry. He was starving. And if she had food, maybe she had enough for everyone? With his axe aloft, Harlan gingerly stepped down the aisle and out of the chapel.
"Come, please." Sister Ophelia lead him across the small courtyard and into another building. The doors clicked behind him, leaving him and the nun in the dark. Harlan flicked on his flashlight, giving him his first clear view of Sister Ophelia. She was small for sure, but had a round face with wide, bright eyes. Her habit was immaculate, spare a few locks of blonde hair sticking out from underneath her coif. A large wooden crucifix hung from her neck.
He shone the flashlight around the room, spotting half a dozen tables and a mess of chairs scattered throughout. He turned to Sister Ophelia.
"You have food?"
"Yes. We recently received a charitable donation from a man not unlike yourself."
"Uh, okay."
"Please, sit. I'll fetch you something." And with that, she vanished into another part of the building. Harlan didn't sit, he swung his flashlight around the room trying to get a better idea of the space. After a few moments, she returned with a steaming bowl of… something. She held it out towards Harlan.
"You're just giving it to me?"
"Yes, of course." She shook the bowl.
Harlan took a tentative step forward. "What is it?"
"It's good, I promise."
Harlan stopped, speaking a little louder. "You're not gonna tell me what it is?"
Sister Ophelia sighed. "It's… dog food. It's not good but it's kept me alive this long."
Harlan's lip curled. "Dog food?"
"Yes, dog food." There was a bang from deeper in the building, behind the Sister. She whipped around, before turning back to Harlan. The banging continued.
"Is that one of your lost souls?"
"That is Father Walsh. He welcomes all lost souls that I bring to him." There was more banging. Multiple pairs of fists against a door he couldn't see.
"Is that one of your fucking lost souls?!" Harlan pointed at the bowl.
She smiled and dropped it on the floor. Glass shards scattered in front of her. The mystery food, Harlan didn't want to think too hard about it, continued to produce steam from the floor. Behind her, Harlan watched as a metal door swung open and a haggard man in bloody vestments sprinted out towards the two.
"Father Walsh, how nice of you to j-" He tackled her to the ground, not waiting a second before sinking his teeth into her neck. Sister Ophelia gagged and gurgled on the floor as the other undead broke down another door. Harlan counted five in the shaky beam of his flashlight making their way to him.
He heard glass shatter behind him.
"HARLAN GET DOWN!" He fell to the floor, and the room was lit up by gunfire. He scurried under a foldable table and watched as Carr downed the mini horde. More glass shattered and he heard her land inside the recreation center. Carr stepped over and offered Harlan a hand. He accepted, with complaint.
"Where the fuck were you?! He swung the beam of his flashlight around the room. The nun was slowly reanimating, next to her were the bodies of one, two, three…
Where was the priest?
"Where's the fucking priest?!"
He swung around at the sound of footsteps in the dark. His flashlight cutting through the darkness but finding no source to the sound.
"I didn't get him?!" Carr held her rifle up with one hand, reaching for her machete with the other, but couldn't decide then and there.
"I don't see him, he's a fucking runner! We're not safe here!"
Then Harlan saw him. The priest's face was covered in blood, his mouth full of torn flesh, and his eyes were almost glowing with rage. He vomited up blood and flesh in an attempt to scream, and was swiftly silenced by Carr's rifle. Harlan was shaking, violently.
Carr stepped away from him, lined up her rifle, and put down Sister Ophelia. Harlan thought his chest was about to explode. He was breathing fast, shakily tracking Carr with the flashlight. She held a finger to her lips, but Harlan couldn't stop shivering. He spun around, nothing outside the window, nothing moving inside, it was just him and Carr. Now he had to communicate that to the rest of his body.
Carr searched Sister Ophelia's body, finding a set of keys, and some granola bars. She motioned for Harlan to step over, but he was frozen. She sighed.
"They can't hurt us any more."
"Th-… That's…" He took a long, deep breath. "That's easy for you to s-say."
"I'm sorry for runnin' off like that, but in the end-"
"SHE TRIED TO FEED ME PEOPLE!" Harlan threw his axe down. "PEOPLE. CARR. HUMAN BEINGS PROCESSED INTO FUCKING GRUEL." Carr inhaled sharply but didn't say anything. "What if one of them got me? What if you missed? What the fuck would you tell Hilda, huh? What about Tony? You used me as bait and lost me? Today has been one HELL of a day."
Harlan grabbed his axe and stepped across the pile of bodies with a sneer, coming to Sister Ophelia. She was already gone, but he brought his axe down on her head to make sure. He brought it down again, and again, and again. "Lying fucking BITCH." He choked out before collapsing into a folding chair and practiced his breathing.
Carr left him to explore the rest of the building. Thankfully those were the only undead in the building, nothing of note upstairs besides some books, but she found something worthy of attention in the room where Father Walsh was kept.
"If you had to pick," she called to Harlan from the supply room, "pineapple or peach?"
He sniffled and rubbed his wrist against his eye. "What?"
"I said," she walked out with a can in each hand, "pineapple or peach?"
He wiped some more tears away. "Check the label, make sure it isn't human flesh."
"There's a lot of labels back here, Harlan. You might wanna check it out."
He stood up, his axe hung loosely in his right hand. He stepped into the room and brought his flashlight up.
Rows and rows of cans. Sorted by vegetables, fruits, meats, they even had medicine! His eyes dried up pretty quickly as the two started stuffing their bags with as much as they could carry. Between this and the guns, it would be a slow trip back. Harlan kept a wary eye on Carr as the trekked past the town's eponymous lake. She remained silent the whole trip.
The gunshots didn't seem to rouse any attention. No figures in the fog. Harlan couldn't help but wonder what the hell went down in town after he and Anthony ran for their lives.
As the safehouse came into view, Harlan stopped.
"I need to know, why? Why did you ditch me like that?"
Carr stopped and turned to Harlan. She looked uneasy. "I've been trapped like that before, but I didn't have another set of eyes watching over me. My line of reasoning goes, if they think it's just you, they won't expect me and that raises the odds we both make it out."
Harlan wasn't satisfied. "But you had no idea if it was just her."
"No, I didn't." She looked around, it was just smog as far as she could see. "But it was the right choice. We got our food, didn't we?"
"I still think what you did was fucked up." He stepped up to Carr. "Watch your fucking back with my sister. I know you watched over her, and I'm grateful, but I don't trust you like I did before."
Harlan entered the home, Anthony greeted him with a bear hug. Hilda was visibly unwell but ate ferociously alongside her son. Harlan and Carr exchanged icy glances over their dinner.
Later that night as Harlan and Anthony shared a bed, the former told his partner about what happened.
"And she was your English teacher before all this?" Anthony rested his head on Harlan's shoulder.
"Yeah, she was a completely different person back then." He omitted what she told him about her husband. "She's been through a lot since, like, a lot."
"Still doesn't justify making you her sitting duck." Anthony shifted his legs to curl around Harlan's. "But you're smart, you're tough, you could've gotten out on your own."
"Yeah, maybe." Harlan didn't want to think about alternate timelines right now.
Their conversation died down and soon both were asleep. As Harlan drifted away, he could still feel a heavy stone of worry in his gut.
Hilda didn't have much time left.