*Contains fictional as well as real depictions/references to Christianity set in the Fallout Universe. If religion makes you uncomfortable, this story may not be for you. Hope you all enjoy this story, if not; I have other stories, or there's lots of other great writers on this site!*

Paul's Letter to Rome

By: Interfectorem

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the good, acceptable, and perfect will of God"

Romans 12:2

ACT 1

"The miseries and misfortunes, love and blessings of family, friends, and New Canaan my home. A beacon of light in a sea of dark, when one of us has died, that isn't the end. The light of our Lord has resurrected the dead and no matter the trials, His work is forever."

Chapter 1: A Light in the Darkness

"… All of you know, for we have spent weeks leading up to this moment. On this day, October 23rd, The Lion of Judah opened the seven seals of the scroll and unleashed God's wrath upon the world 200 years ago… Our Lord saw the people, the societies, and the aims of those societies, and still loved them dearly, even though they had long since turned their backs on Him. Many years before, our Lord bestowed a gift upon mankind, which was the power to end their troubles and put an end to the incessant fighting of man. That gift was the power of the Atom… With the power of the Atom, what mankind could do would be unlimited. However, such a power could be used in a way to either help man, or destroy him… God gave man the unlimited potential of the Atom, but man had fallen far from grace, and like another test upon His creation as was done in Eden, the burden of choice came upon those who could and could not see Him. The societies of the old world were so large, so prosperous, so selfish, that they hadn't seeded the Lord's message in the gift. They squandered the blessings to bring prosperity and peace to the world by manufacturing more and more instruments of annihilation, opposing entirely the peace it could bring. They couldn't see the gifts they had before them and continued to war over the resources that had been rendered obsolete by the divine gift. The super-nations poured their resources into manufacturing Atomic Spears instead of Atomic power, strength, and unity. Those nations were blinded by the pettiness of the world, and felt so big as though they were gods... The nations of man had finally turned completely away from The Lord, and so, they fell into the trap of the evil one, thus making God's will inevitable. As He'd done to Sodom and Gomorrah, so our Lord would do again. However, God heeded the advice of Abraham two hundred years ago, just as He'd done in the day of Sodom… Those of righteousness and those devoted to the Lord and Christ His son would live, if not be redeemed in the fires and destruction following the seventh seal and the silence in Heaven. As Atomic spears landed, our people, the children of Christ survived, and even prospered after the Judgement of 2077. The people of New Canaan survived the years of winter, thrived in the years of tribalist plague, and prospered under the chaotic world of post-judgement… And do you know why that is?... It is because we have been chosen… Our people carried the knowledge of the world before, and learned the lessons taught to the super nations of old. And why were we able to do that?... It is because we have never lost sight of the face of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Our people were spared the horror of the divine horsemen of famine, war, and death itself. In the darkest of times, when the walls have been breached, and when our missionaries returned to the Kingdom of Heaven. Though we still live during times of plague, famine, drought, and the fallen who pound on our gates, we continue on, following the call of the white horse of conquest. Conquest not by the war and violence of man's past, but by the conquest of Divinity, and by the conquest brought about by shedding light over a dark, dark world. The reason we continue on and thrive even despite the terrors around us is because, no matter the storm we've faced… The beautiful face of Christ was and continues to be in our hearts, our minds, and in our sight… In a world that needs Him now more than ever, we continue onward remembering that even though we, the world, and so many others outside the walls continue to die, we do so with the knowledge that death means nothing when the resurrection of those who know Him awaits. Before He proved to us what awaits the rest of us, He spoke the new covenant to those who loved him on the night He was betrayed, and knowing that His death would ensure the ultimate victory… And so, we take this bread…"

"Nathaniel, get up. It's Communion…" I said quickly to the prone guard staring through the sights of a sniper rifle.

He stood up and rushed quickly over to the bread on the table. Bishop Mordecai continued on the radio, "… And remember me. You may eat… Now, take this cup, for the wine is His blood, and remember that it was spilled for all of you so that you may be forgiven, born anew, cleansed of this earth, and washed of sin each and every day you partake in this meal… You may drink…"

We all did so, and the Bishop continued over the radio as we bowed, "Heavenly Father, we thank you for this day of remembrance. The lessons taught to the world on this day two hundred years ago, are remembered by You and relived in our minds every day. The world had fallen so far, and your word kept us alive when we were nearly dead. Your word resurrected us when we were dead, just as you did your Son, and continue to do each moment our eyes see you through the chaos of this world and our hearts feel the pain that Christ endured on behalf of us all.. We thank you for this day, for the food we have, and for the work we do. It is in your name that we work, and we pray for guidance in these trying times. We pray that your light will continue to be shown through our actions, and we pray that you hold us and show us how to walk with You and You alone on the road ahead… We pray this in the powerful and holy name of our Lord and precious savior, Jesus Christ... Amen."

At the word "Amen," I raised my head and opened my eyes to adjust back to the blinding light of the midday sun, hearing the same word echo from the mouths of the rest of my men in the guard.

As the others opened their eyes and readjusted to the world, my eyes were taken to the north where I could see the people within the Temple just beginning to trickle out. The sight of the large white structure in the heart of town always was a sight to behold. The steeple stood tall and high above the rest of the buildings in town with a large stone foundation and a wide series of steps leading up to the large wooden house of God. More people began to exit the distant church and congregate around the steps or the town square to socialize, and I started wondering when the renovations were going to take place since I heard that we've obtained the proper amount of stone and bricks from my friend in construction. As beautiful as the Temple was, the fact it was made of wood began to increasingly sit strangely with some of us in New Canaan upon learning that a house of God made from the same stone of its foundation was possible.

My thoughts about all of this were suddenly interrupted when the… "Unique" character that was my guard "Nathan/Nathaniel" interrupted the quiet ambiance of our tower by asking aloud;

"Ey so, why're the fellas in the east tower still praying?"

Our eyes went to east tower, and I was going to answer with the answer I thought Nathan already knew when the newest member of my detachment beat me to it. William Ramos said;

"The radios in the towers are on a delay, Nathan… How do I know that and you don't?"

Nathan ignored the question at the end, instead asking generally, "So they're still listening to Bishop Mordecai's sermon?"

As Nathaniel turned back to look at each of us expectingly, the eyes of Ramos, John Langdon, and Carl Northrup went to me, with my second, "John Langdon" asking me;

"Care to 'enlighten' Mr. Nathaniel, Lieutenant?"

Nathaniel interrupted, "I go by 'Nathan', Mr. Langdon, and my last name is "Porter" in case you forgot."

John replied quickly by apologizing to "Nathaniel Porter" and I grinned at that. All my guards save for Ramos enjoyed calling Nathan "Nathaniel" since he seemed to cringe every time he wasn't addressed by his preferred name.

After a long enough silence, I indulged the poor man, "Yes, Nathan, the guards in the other towers listen to the same sermons we do on a delay, and before you ask, it's so that there will always be a set of eyes on the market while one tower is absorbing the message of Mordecai's sermon."

"Oh?... Thanks for that Lieutenant" said Nathan as he shot spiteful looks at the other guards.

"Your welcome, Nathan" said I before deciding to toy with the man in a way he'd understand, "… But that reminds me, shouldn't you be on that rifle right now?"

Before I could finish, Nathan was already shifting out of his chair and towards the high-caliber sniper rifle he left before communion. Always one to add an extra "something else" to his normal duties, Nathan turned his black baseball cap back around, exposing the white cross on it towards us as he collapsed to the prone position. Taking his place behind the rifle and expressing for anyone who will listen, Nathan griped to himself;

"Can't believe we were forced to work on a Sabbath yet again."

Just before John could explain yet again the reason for the Guard's recent Saturday Sabbath days, Nathan added with a glance back to us, "… You know I read in the Old Testament the other day that they killed a guy for picking up sticks on the Sabbath day. Pretty sure it was Exodus Chapter?... Verse?… I forget which verse exactly, but that seems a bit drastic, you know? Getting stoned to death for picking up a few sticks for firewood?…"

John finally replied, "If you're worried we'll get stoned to death for working on Sunday, I'll remind you once more that we've been taking our Sabbath days on Saturday for the past three weeks, Nathan."

"And I've been staying well away from sticks on those Saturdays I assure you," said Nathan with a small chuckle and a glance back at us to see if his joke had its intended effect.

Upon catching my eye, I'll admit that I too was grinning, but before he could get too comfortable, I said, "Great job, but those were the days of Moses… Nowadays we'll just stone you for making jokes when you should be keeping an eye on the markets."

Of course, Nathan knew I was joking, but the meaning wasn't lost as the smile left his face and he turned back to scan the market through the lens of that rifle. The other guards laughed at my joke, knowing how it would make Nathan flustered, but before long, we were all back at it.

I turned to the radio and lowered the volume a little as the soft post sermon worship instrumentals came back on, Carl and Ramos took their places on the parapets flanking Nathan, and John scooted his chair an inch closer to the radio. My legs were seeming to grow numb from sitting in that fold out chair for so long and I took the moment to stand up as the midday sun continued to beat down on us. The sudden movement reminded me of the pain in the site of my injury, and I watched John look me over with a curious eyebrow like he was going to ask me the expected question.

Before he could, I answered for him, "I'm alright, John"

John stayed quiet but nodded his head in acknowledgment before turning his eyes back to the cloth and Thompson submachinegun on his lap.

As I rose, I felt the pain in my side leave and the injury was quickly forgotten as I took my spot on the north railing to take in the view. Looking back towards the Temple, the steps around it and the town square were almost completely packed with everyone socializing about their families, businesses, the news, or their thoughts on the sermon itself. The distant chatter reaching us in the tower as one incoherent sound carried in the wind. Children ran to their friends and began playing in the square or in the nearly vacant streets and all was peaceful as I took in the view.

Following the people back to the Temple, I thought I saw Bishop Mordecai exit with his entourage of others who ran the Temple, but they were too far to truly make out. My eyes traveled up the steeple and to the cross sitting on top, the highest object in 30 miles.

I remembered the early days in my childhood when that cross was put there and how it upset many of the Mormon members of the community, but the consensus had been reached and Mordecai's predecessors brought them around by reiterating the importance of the cross at the time and especially in the current day…

My how those were the days. Of course, we had our share of problems back then too, but it wasn't more than 30 years ago that we were in a position to truly debate theology, whether or not we should observe this practice versus that, whether we should recognize the cross as the symbol it was or not, etc. In the end, I remembered those days were a thing of the past and the present was far more pressing as my eyes went from the cross to the east, to the snow topped mountains, then down to the town where chimneys were pouring their smoke into the air. Scanning the vacant streets once more, my attention finally went to the walls around New Canaan. Every quarter mile along the wall sat a tower keeping watch over the surrounding wasteland, each one occupied by a team of 3-5 and defending the community in ways that the wall itself couldn't.

As my eyes scanned the towers near and distant, I followed the wall to the railing of the tower in which I stood and began to wonder what I knew I shouldn't.

The wall was thin. The wall around our settlement of roughly six thousand was not impressive by any means. Although the wall was fortified enough to keep people out, it was the men in the towers that acted as the true defense against the outside world and I couldn't help but think that if we fortified the walls with that concrete to be used in the Temple renovation, some of us might be able to sleep a little easier at night. I knew a Temple made to last was of extreme importance in its own right, but I knew the dangers outside, after all the mere thought of that world out there brought about a reminder of the wound in my side… Either way, before I could overstep my place by considering how I would run this town, I shook the thoughts out of my head and followed the rest of the wall to the tower I stood upon just as the large clouds began to obscure the midday sun.

As much as I loved the overcast days, I knew what was coming as the world turned grey and a cold wind touched my skin. The days were still hot, but the cold wind and tinge of gray that came with those clouds reminded me of the world outside and how cold the nights were getting. I heard the distant sound of one of the nearby gate crews shouting the order, and the metallic clank of gears working brought my attention to the world outside the gate. Shuffling over to the spot next to Carl Northrup, he acknowledged my presence with a nod before turning back to the same scene I joined.

The world to the south just outside the walls were buzzing with activity. The market stalls were all set up and catering to the countless visitors from lands beyond. I watched the long caravans of traders from everywhere coming in and going out, tribals from our friends in the wilderness flooded each stall and more smoke from the inns and hovels poured into the sky around the marketplace.

There were many people of New Canaan who began to take their Sabbath day on Saturdays with the Guard since they knew that winter's arrival would mean an influx of travelers and tribal visitors, and I only prayed that all the seamstresses had enough goods to help all who came to us before the truly cold months.

Even though there were so many who came to us for the things of this world they needed, the world outside the walls was still "The world outside the walls." There immediately came a reminder of what that was exactly when I saw several members of the Guard doing their duty amidst the buzz of the market by breaking up a fight between two men who were likely what Carl conjectured then and there,

"Probably fellas from rival tribes"

I patted the young man on the shoulder and acknowledged him, "That sounds about right…" I paused, watching the distant guards below appearing to lecture the two men individually with a warning. "Wish they'd come to our gates to find unity."

Carl nodded silently, internally reminding me that there was a reason they were outside the walls of our town, and the quiet hung for a second before Carl turned his head to me asking softly, "You healing up alright Lieutenant? What happened out there was…"

The guards below backed off and the feuding tribals went their separate ways, giving one another insulting gestures before disappearing into the crowds of the market and before I could assure Carl I was fine, the voice of Nathan came from the rifle next to us;

"Think one of them tribals was a White Leg, LT?"

I didn't much care for the reminder, but answered Nathan, "No. Our men below wouldn't have been able to break it up with their words if that was the case."

Just as I finished speaking, Ramos asked from the other side of Nathan, "Hey Lieutenant? If I might ask; you never really told us what happened to give you that fresh wound."

All my men in the tower turned their attention to me save for Nathan who only cocked his ear upward as he continued observing the market. I never went into details with these men about what happened on my most recent expedition into the west, but despite what happened, and what they already knew about those who didnt come back, there really wasn't much to say. So, I could only tell them;

"Went west into Whiteleg territory. Got jumped. Simple as that."

John said from his place by the radio, "We know that, sir. But…"

He paused and Carl asked, "They gearing up for war?"

I let out a small sigh, burying the memories of that recent trip when I answered for them all I knew, "I wouldn't worry about anything. White Legs move around all the time. Just didn't expect that many of them out there-"

John asked from behind me, "So is their war with the 80s over?"

I suddenly began feeling that pain in my abdomen again and I couldn't think as I heard the questions I didn't know the answers to. I wanted to put their minds at ease but I simply didn't know, between all the enemies we were facing as a community, all the recent misfortunes and every personal and public problem considered, I kept myself calm and said as sternly and calmly as I could for all the men in my detachment now staring at me, "Look, I don't know. I just…" they saw my frustration, and their expressions fell, "let's focus on today…"

Another silence lingered as I felt their eyes leave me and I remembered thinking, "I hope they don't think less of me for that." Of course, I've had to chew out a number of my guards in the past but this was the group I was most familiar with. I knew I should be more detailed but there were simply too many things about everything that I didn't know, especially with the current pressures outside the wall. These men looked up to me and I sincerely wanted to lead the best I could, but I was just as if not more in the dark about all this than any of them despite my position and recent actions for the Guard.

I felt their eyes return to the different sectors they should be observing and felt their disappointment linger in the air. Just as I felt calm but strangely alone, the pain in my side rescinded once again and my eyes turned towards the west. The memories of that trip began to flicker across my vision as my eyes started to take in the vast west full of the desolate ruins of outer Ogden, towards Salt Lake City, and then to that vast stretch of grey beyond, even more grey than ever under that overcast sky. The noise of the market below couldn't distract me, and I began seeing the events of that raid and that damned boy's face when I found myself looking through that grey plane of the Great Salt Lake and saying;

"Lord, make it end, please. I can't take this right now."

More memories came and even though my men were all focused on their duties to notice me, I felt like everyone was watching me. No more than a few seconds passed when the Lord answered my prayer. The world came back in an instant, my mind was clear, the sounds returned, the eyes left, and colors came back even beneath the grey sky when up the steps came someone new. John and I turned to the slim staircase up to the tower roof and when I saw who it was, I automatically said to everyone;

"Constable on deck"

John stood while Ramos and Carl turned and Nathan remained prone.

Constable Obadiah Hanshaw's head rose more and more from the floor of the tower as he made his way up the last few steps wearing that enormous signature smile on his face. As soon as he had both feet firmly planted on the tower roof, he twisted his mustache with his dirty gloved hands and said cheerily as always;

"My, my, my! What proud enforcers I have manning my towers! Settle back in fellas, no need to pause your duties for your little old Constable."

That was the cue, Ramos and Carl turned back to their sectors with smiles on their faces and John said to the constable immediately;

"'Little old Constable'? You're quite the modest one with words, how'd you even fit up those steps? Haha"

Constable Hanshaw was the captain of the New Canaan Guard, the head commander of anyone called to protect the community as an "Entrance Enforcer" and was by no means a "little" man. It wouldn't have surprised me if Constable Hanshaw was part giant or something, because his stature and even character in general could only be described by what he said in response to John;

"You shush John. You're only needed up here in case my shoulders get me caught in the stairwell!"

John chuckled at that as I heard the others suppress their own laughter.

I was thankful for being saved by the Constable's arrival and all my internal troubles were a thing of the past when I saw that goofy giant turn his grinning face towards me. So much so that I could only ask my commander;

"Still feeling the spirit of Mordecai's sermon I see?"

His eyes met mine and he took a seat in my chair by the radio, "I must admit that the sermons of October 23rd always put me in a bit of a sour mood, but Mordecai is right; a reminder of our Lord's new covenant and resurrection is always a cause for a cheery spirit…"

Constable Hanshaw began idly looking for scraps in the communion bread bowl only to be disappointed before his eyes went to John who said;

"Why aren't you in your 'Sunday best' Constable?"

Before he could speak, I said, "I was curious about that as well."

The Constable was the only member of the Guard who still took his Sabbath on Sundays with the rest of New Canaan lately, that way he could be there to discuss matters with Mordecai and the other officials of the Temple, but he was dressed today in the uniform attire and even basic equipment of us. The Constable sat there dressed in the standard boots and black cargo pants of a guardsman, complete with the white collared shirt and black patrol vest marked with the old-world letters of the Ogden or SLC Police Departments. The only thing he was missing was the black cap marked with the cross, but that was understandable since he came from a Mormon family in town and the cap was one of the optional pieces of guardsmen uniform.

Either way, the Constable explained his choice of attire this day by saying casually, "I didn't feel like getting all gussied up today, that stiff ceremony uniform is really uncomfortable. You fellas will understand when one of you takes my place someday…"

His eyes went to me and I could feel the smirks my men had on their faces at that. Then the Constable added, "Besides, it couldn't hurt to make a round to check up on my boys at their posts. Think the Lord would forgive me if He considered this to be 'work' haha!"

I felt Nathan about to say something from behind that rifle but I beat him to it, "Funny you mention that, Constable. We were just discussing working on the Sabbath here with Nathan. Nathan's under the impression we should still stone people for that, so you watch your back, Constable."

All of us laughed save for Nathan who immediately shot in, "- I didn't say that!" then he heard us laughing and focused even more on the horizons to hide his embarrassment. He buried his face even further into the rifle's scope when the Constable said;

"How would he do that? I've seen Nathan throw and I'm pretty sure my 6 year old girl has a better arm."

Nathan lowered his face even more into the rifle and shook his head in defeat. When the laughing died, I asked the Constable;

"So Constable, aside from checking in on us, what brings you up here? You holding up alright?"

"Actually, Paul…" said the Constable, "I would like to have a word with you in private if that's alright?"

Unconsciously, I looked around as I heard Nathan let out an "Ooooooo" as if I was in trouble. Then I replied to my commander, "Of course, Constable."

The Constable stood himself up and gestured for me to follow with his head as I wondered what this was about even though I had a decent idea. Pushing myself off the railing beside Carl, the movement made me wince at my wound again, and the Constable's face made a movement like he noticed my pain too. Turning his head towards the slim staircase up the tower, I followed the large man who stopped just before proceeding down. Speaking for the rest of the guards in my detachment, Constable Hanshaw said to them;

"Carry on, boys. I expect full description reports of every person who enters the market while your lieutenant is away."

I heard William Ramos my newest guard about to ask how that was possible since there were dozens if not hundreds of people entering and leaving the market this time of day when I said, "Ignore him, Ramos." Then the constable proceeded down the steps with his body at an angle, laughing to himself all the while.

Down the two flights of stairs we went, the inside of the tower was dark and tight as ever especially under the cloudy sky. Not even the light coming in from the loopholes was helpful and the Constable said to himself, "Need to install some lights or torches in here, this is ridiculous."

Hearing the Constable muse to himself was nothing new, and replies were never necessary since most of the Guard knew that he only wanted to get them to smile when he wasn't discussing important matters. Remembering this made me think again what this private talk was about, and I considered the possibilities until we reached the bottom of the two-story tower. With our feet on solid ground, the Constable pushed open the thick steel door to the tower and we entered the streets of New Canaan.

Looking to the right, I saw the gate crews watching over a caravan entering the city as I took my place on the side of the door outside the tower. When I turned to the Constable, he noticed me standing by and said;

"Come on, Paul, let's go for a stroll."

I nodded wordlessly and caught up to the Constable beginning his leisurely stroll down the dusty streets of town. The streets were a little more populated now with people beginning to head to their homes after socializing in the post sermon town square, but I was more focused on the reason for this private talk since we could've had it just outside my tower. All the more puzzling was why the Constable was quiet, with me at least. Every resident of New Canaan we passed greeted the Constable as we walked, and the Constable was not shy at all about greeting the people back by name in his overly cheery way. Many people greeted me as well along this silent walk and I tried to be as polite as I could but as I've said, my mind was elsewhere.

At last, we rounded a street corner I pass pretty often on my way to the enforcers' barracks when Constable Hanshaw slowed his stroll and asked me calmly;

"How you holding up, Paul?"

He glanced at me by his side and I wasn't taken too off guard, but my thoughts were interrupted and I replied assuring;

"I'm alright, Constable. Nothing new to report."

He stopped and leaned on the lamp post next to him and faced me with the words, "You can drop the formality, Paul. Seriously though, how is your wound?"

I hadn't noticed the wound on this walk but despite the reminder, the physical pain stayed dormant for the moment as some of those memories flickered in the back of my mind. I must have been silent for longer than anticipated even though it wasn't more than a few seconds since I saw Constable Hanshaw's face morph from its cheery state to its sincere one I don't see too often.

I wanted to reply but I simply couldn't find the words. I could only let out a sigh and continue the silence a while longer before managing to say;

"I'm alright…" The answer again wasn't good enough; I could see it in his face. Shutting off my brain I said, "I honestly feel a bit worse inside than I ever did outside…"

He let the answer hang as he adjusted in his place beside the pole. A few passers-by greeted the two of us but the Constable only nodded in acknowledgment of them before turning back to me and asking, "Your wound healing up alright?" if only to help ease my discomfort.

I could only nod in response before he again adjusted against that pole and stated softly to me, "You know it-… What happened to Evan or any of them wasn't your fault, right Paul?"

Images of that boy's face were at the front of my mind now and I winced at their presence as I fought to get them out of my head. I knew Hanshaw could see this struggle within me and the feeling of a tear in my eye motivated me to fight a little more even if it was just with words,

"Hanshaw, I just…. I don't know why the death of that young man is haunting me so much this time…"

The Constable nodded, continuing to look at me with deep sincerity as I went on, "I've seen plenty of my- New Canaan's men die in battle but I can't figure out why this death is hitting me so hard… Maybe it's my age having an effect on me…"

There it was, I could see all of it: All those short, vague, and chaotic memories of that routine expedition out west not more than a month ago. Near the shores of the Great Salt Lake, between a pair of ruined buildings on the outskirts of SLC, the mountains rose high in the far west beyond the vast lake, and all I could hear was the deafening gunfire. My boys with me were too green, and weren't ready, but in all fairness, I wasn't either. If the White Legs got routed in their recent war against the 80s tribe of the southwest, it certainly didn't seem like it. There were far too many than anyone could have expected. I watched four in my team get killed before they could fire a shot, seeing their bodies get pelted by tomahawks and spears only for the rifles to finish the work from the ruins and ridgelines.

I don't know how many we killed, if any, and Constable Hanshaw's backup were 10 minutes away. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go but back east towards Hanshaw's bivouac, but even seconds in and it was already too late. I saw that boy, Evan Buller fall to my feet with a bullet in his leg as his and my brothers gave their all against the oncoming bullets and warriors to little avail. His eyes met mine and I heard over the roaring gunfire, "Lieutenant! Save me!" My eyes fell to his leg where a pool of blood was already too deep around it and saw those eyes once again pleading for me to do what I simply couldn't… But I was damned if I wasn't going to try.

I gave the command, the call to fall back and my men on the perimeter fled without order or discipline back east and I took the hands of Evan in mine as I started dragging him east through the smoke and dust. Within the first seconds, it was already too hard to drag him, and so I took his arms, ready to hoist him over my back, but when his eyes met mine once again, he died. I saw and felt the impact of six bullets pierce his body and his eyes were on me the whole time as I watched the life leave them.

Can't say that I'll ever forget what that cold and pale face said to me there in that moment. Before his head could fall limp with the rest of his body, that face, that damned face told me that I did what I never wanted to do. It said, "You failed me" and then I felt the bullet clip right through my abdomen.

"… I failed him, Hanshaw… I failed everyone on that expedition, and it was so close to our home too… I couldn't save him or anyone when they needed me most…"

The constable never broke his focus on me as I spoke the same story I did when he arrived with the backup. The face I was seeing now was the same face I saw when I was looking up from the ground that day after the bullet sent me to the floor. All I could add to this story was what I had gotten from it in hindsight. I wiped the tear from my face and said,

"I don't know why I'm still thinking about that so often…" I regathered my composure and reiterated once more, "ain't the first time I saw one of my brothers return to the Kingdom…"

I continued to collect myself and the Constable remained silent and watching me. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to further compose myself and found myself asking the Lord why it was still so painful to watch a brother return to His embrace. Such a thing seemed to be a cause of celebration, but it was really hard to think of it that way when I remembered what that young man's face looked like when I couldn't save him.

Opening my eyes, the Constable had not moved and the world resuming around us appeared like it was so far away.

Just as it was the day Constable and his men came to our rescue, the Constable knew that there was not much to say. He'd been there before countless times, and also knew that words weren't helpful to someone who'd just survived a moment like that. However, I'd been silent long enough and I was collected enough now for the Constable to give his first words in over ten minutes;

"I know there isn't much I can say or do that will help you with the guilt of surviving a tragedy like that, but you know I've been in your shoes as well…"

He paused and I nodded, feeling slightly less heavy from telling that story again, but then he went on, "It's easy for something like that to shake one's faith, but I can only tell you that even in some of the darkest moments our Lord works miraculous ways you'd never predict…"

His expression fell even more before he said, "When I came upon your body back there, I felt the same thing you did looking at Evan. I felt as though I failed you too, sending you out ahead of us. When I saw you lying there, I felt- I knew that I had lost a son of mine…"

His eyes met mine again and he added with a croak in his voice, "… but then your body began to breathe. I was given my son back, and I can't thank Him enough for that."

He put his large arm around me and sniffed. I felt completely broken but this man, this man who basically helped raise me as his adopted son had nothing but the love of God in his heart as he said to me, "You were spared that day for a reason, son…"

"I don't know what that reason is exactly so don't go askin me about it, ha" he added with a sniff. Still completely wrecked in the midst of all this care, I said without thought;

"I wish it didn't hurt so bad. I've been prayin for the days when it didn't…"

Before I could go any further, the Constable released his grip on me and said to my soul, "You care about your men, that's a good thing so don't you ever go thinking it's not…"

I was going to protest if I could come up with the words or why, but he went on, "The only thing that sets us apart from the wicked out here or even the lands of the far south is that we care for ours. It might be painful in the aftermath, but knowing that each one of our men or missionaries holds the love and care of the Lord most high is the reason that our work is all the more important… You understand that, Paul?"

I looked to the man, felt the pain in my side grow a bit, and nodded, "… Thanks for that, Cons- Hanshaw… I needed that…"

He nodded softly before saying, "I'm not one to speak for Him, but I see the pain you're suffering for that boy as a sign that you're truly becoming a great leader. I ask any of your men regularly and all of them have nothing but love and admiration for you… That only happens when their leader has the same for them. It might be harder to see them go than it was when you were younger, but remember that when that fiery trial comes to you, you are sharing Christ's sufferings with Him… Just keep your head up Paul. You don't want to miss it when it comes time for rejoicing and His glory is revealed…"

I thought about the verses in 1 Peter he was referring to, and he was right even if the pain was still there. Every now and then you need a reminder that your pain is nothing unique, the book we all study proves every day that everything we've ever been through has been experienced before. Even though the pain would still linger, we must keep our eyes towards Heaven, or else we might miss it when He reveals himself again, like in what my survival did for the Constable.

After that, there was nothing to do but let everything my friend the Constable said sink in. A long silence lingered in the air and the pain continued to grow in the site of the wound as my internal pain subsided. The people passing in the streets greeted the two of us wordlessly, just knowing that we needed a moment. At last, the Constable turned back to me just as I was adjusting my vest around the site of my wound and said;

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off, Paul."

Still partially recovering from the emotionally chaotic moment with my commander, I collected myself further and said, "- I couldn't. I-"

But the Constable wouldn't allow it, "Wasn't a question, Paul. It's an order."

The Constable's face twisted ever so slowly back to its default cheeriness and seeing that made my recovery even quicker in that miraculous way. After a moment, I could only say to the man, "Just make sure my replacement knows what to do at the end of shift."

"I'll go tell Mr. Langdon right away that he's in charge for the rest of the afternoon. We'll see if it doesn't get to his head a bit." Hanshaw said with a smile.

I was thankful for this return to normalcy and could only indulge in it as I replied, "You know it will, sir."

He collected himself further and laughed at that, finally saying to me, "Get home, Paul. Spend the rest of the day with Dani and make sure the kids aren't getting into too much trouble. Don't worry about your duties and just rest up. Everything will be fine, and just know that me and the others will be praying for you."

"Will do, sir…" said I and before turning to part ways, I said again, "Thanks again, for everything."

He only nodded at me and began walking back down the street towards the tower. Now, with the streets lively and bustling under the grey sky, some clouds had parted making the land half glowing, and there I proceeded down the streets towards my home. The weight of my cross was still very heavy between the most recent burdens I carried and innumerable others, but knowing men like Constable Hanshaw were helping me carry it made it that much lighter. Light enough for me to proceed towards home.

I remember my home that day sitting strangely silent there between the "Gallant" and "Hughes" homes in our stretch near the west wall. On most normal days, whether it be nighttime or daytime when I returned, the kids would be playing in the yard or enjoying their meals on the porch just finishing the day. It wasn't too often that I got off midday, so I suppose this could have been normal, but there was something strangely off that hit me as I pushed open the small fence and walked the little dirt path to the porch.

Stepping on the porch, I put my hand on the doorknob, and just before turning it and entering, I saw the face of my daughter, Hannah watching me with solemnity in her face through the foggy window. I made my gesture like I was watching her and it did nothing for her as the little girl's eyes immediately went back out to the yard and streets beyond. I tried not to think much of that, knowing that she was probably in one of her moods again, being 12 and all. Either way, I turned the doorknob and stepped into my dim house even darker under that grey sky.

As the door shut behind me, Hannah remained sitting on our refurbished sofa and continued to stare out the window ignoring me while I saw my wife Daniella poke her head out of the kitchen entryway. She saw me dusting myself off and asked in confused elation;

"You're home early? Everything okay?"

I regathered myself to approach her and just as my first breath came out in response to Dani, my young son Joseph came running out of the kitchen towards me with his familiar shout, "Dad's home!"

The second that seven-year-old psychopath slammed into me and started punching me in the leg, I saw Michelle, my eldest daughter, round the same corner, joining her mother in the confusion of my presence.

Joseph continued to batter me as I walked towards the girls, ignoring the boy as I explained to my wife;

"I had to talk with Constable Hanshaw about some private affairs and he gave me the rest of the day off."

It was Michelle who replied to that by asking, "Really? Mr. Hanshaw's missing his time in the towers?"

I embraced my daughter and wife while Joseph continued to pummel my legs and antagonize his "enemies."

I replied to Michelle, "I don't think it's like that, he was just checking up on us. Needed to have a word with me after."

Immediately after releasing them, Dani asked in response "What was your talk about?"

I met her eyes, then looked to Michelle and saw the curiosity in her face as well before meeting Dani's face again and saying, "… just… personal matters…"

Even though that was hardly a clarification, Dani knew immediately what I was referring to and Michelle knew it was about the state I showed up in last month. Michelle took that as her cue to enact her duties as the eldest daughter. Michelle nodded at me and grabbed the boy still attacking my legs by the ruff of his neck, saying;

"Joseph, leave dad alone. Go attack Hannah for a while."

Joseph sped off towards Hannah on the couch, and a flurry of whining and struggling noises commenced on the other end of the living room while Michelle made her way over to the table to begin tidying up.

Standing there with my arm around my wife, I felt her glance on the side of my face every now and then while we both watched Hannah do her best to fend off Joseph. I knew what Dani wanted to ask, but I broke our silence by saying to her;

"Hannah's still in one of her moods I see."

I felt Dani's eyes on the side of my head before she said, "Yeah, she'll grow out of it. I know I was like that at her age. If she's anything like us, she'll snap out of it when she starts preparing for missionary duties…"

Joseph was giving his all to bite Hannah's ankles and she continued to beat him with a pillow as the words, "Dad! Make him stop!" came towards us.

I could only smile and reply to Dani, "She'll also come to cherish family too, I'm certain."

"But right now, she still needs her dad," said Dani, giving me a light push toward the two kids. Stepping before Hannah and her attacker, I clapped twice and began,

"Alright, break it up you two."

Joseph released his grip on Hannah's ankle, and she got one more hit in as Joseph hopped off the couch and gave me a salute. That boy always made me chuckle at almost everything he did and how he could go from play to serious mode in a quarter second when I started talking. However, now that I had his attention, I said to him;

"Joe?..." He gave me another childish salute, "Didn't you say you could outrun the Langdon boy now?"

Immediately, Joseph blurted out, "I'm so much faster than Caleb now! I beat him and his sisters because they are so slow because their shoes are not as good as mine because Caleb told Megan that she could win at tag and when they tried to wrestle me because when we were playing tag I got Caleb down but and Megan and Elisa hit me and it hurt and-"

"That's great, buddy. Why don't you go find Caleb and play tag with him again outside? I'm pretty sure the Langdons are home now," said I.

"Ok DAD!" shouted Joseph as he grabbed the straps on his overalls and was already running out the door.

My eyes went to Hannah who curled up on the couch with an expression saying she was grateful for being rescued but still wasn't talking. Locking eyes with her, I gestured to the door,

"Go keep tabs on him, Hannah. I still owe the Hughes' for that pot he broke last week."

Hannah nodded and proceeded out the door to follow after her brother and I turned back around. Dani said, "I'm going to finish this stew, hon. I know Constable Hanshaw sent you home for a reason, so you just lie down for a bit."

I said to her "I'm fine" but she had already disappeared from the kitchen entryway.

Dani was right, I needed to rest. It was true that days in the towers were far less strenuous than days on patrol, but resting at home is far better than resting anywhere else. With my mind settled on that, I began taking off my vest as I plopped myself down on the couch. Removing the heavy vest full of ammunition and equipment, I set it down beside the couch making mental note to pick it up before Joseph came back. Last thing I needed was to come up short on the officers' equipment check just because Joseph wanted to play with (and lose) the bullets. With my vest off, I removed my boots, and swung my feet up on the couch. Unfortunately, I hadn't accounted for the impact of that irregular movement because I felt the wound in my abdomen unleash a great pain. I muffled the shout in my hand, hoping to avoid Dani's hearing, but then the words, "Are you alright dad?" came from the corner of the room.

Startled, I sat up, again causing the pain to surge when I saw Michelle standing in the corner by the table.

"Dam- Dang it, Michelle, you almost gave me a heart attack. How long you been standing there?" I said already realizing she'd been dusting and cleaning the table the whole time.

She said as much and I felt the pain subside before she was hovering beside me on the couch, looking down at me with a face of deep concern.

Closing my eyes to rest, her presence remained, and I replied to her, "I'm alright, Michelle. I just need to rest."

The words weren't good enough, and I felt her presence linger but I refused to open my eyes again. Despite my eyes being shut, it was almost like I could still see her, standing there right over me in her Sunday dress. Knowing that she would remain, I couldn't bring myself to tell her to leave. I knew she was just concerned about me, but I also didn't want to talk about what I already discussed with the Constable. Before she could ask me anything I didn't want to discuss with my children, I thought about her and Hannah's appearance. Both girls wore their Sunday dresses, but my mind went to Joseph. So, still feeling Michelle hovering over me, I said;

"Please tell me Joseph didn't go to the Temple in his overalls."

After a moment, I heard her chuckle lightly before replying, "No, dad. We wouldn't let the monster go to service like that…"

I again couldn't help but smile thinking about that goofy kid. She added, "He did run home from service though and changed over immediately before terrorizing us… Thanks for saving us by the way."

"You're welcome, please remind me to get a leash for him next time I'm out."

I could see the smile those words put on her face right there in my mind, but she was still hovering over me and I truly wished I had the energy to socialize more with my daughter but there was still far too much on my mind. After a long enough silence, Michelle said;

"Hannah and mom pretty much just headed home after service too…" She paused and I knew there was more to come. "I made a stop at the Buller's place to drop off those flowers I bought…"

I could feel her eyes even more on me as I swatted thoughts of the Buller's and that boy out of my mind. She added, "I've been helping the family when I can since their… loss-"

Reflexively I asked, "What did you think of Mordecai's sermon today?"

A silence hovered over us, and I refused to open my eyes again as I continued to not think about that unfortunate… kid. I listened to Dani stirring the pot in the kitchen and focused on the sound of kids playing beyond the window.

At last, the silence was lifted when Michelle asked point blank, "Dad?... Why have you been avoiding the Buller's?..."

My eyes shot open and she was kneeling beside me looking even more concerned than before as she gently rested a hand on my wounded abdomen. She looked into my eyes and the concern remained like she knew the question was painful for me but needed to ask it anyway. At last she said, "I know it hurts, and I know you tried your best, but maybe helping the Buller's and the other families can help you-"

"Michelle, just… please stop," I said as calmly as I was able. I hated these reminders and I know she wanted to help, but I really just wanted to move on and not think about it again today.

She saw the desperation in my face and remained silent. Her eyes said it all. Michelle knew about the ambush, she knew Evan Buller was part of my team that day, but I never went into details with my wife, or with my children, especially not the younger ones. Looking at Michelle, I knew she was a young woman about to go on her first mission, but in my mind, she was still just a girl. I knew what waited for her beyond the walls of New Canaan and knew that she was likely going to see some of the scariest things she wasnt able to imagine. She'd likely see cruelty beyond her ability to understand, and she was going to have to stare at it unflinching where she'd have nobody to trust but the others on her team and faith in Christ.

I still had yet to talk to her about my own experiences on mission, and I planned on doing that before she left, but today was most certainly not the day that I would discuss that, or even where my job takes me on occasion. For now, that day, I could only look into my eldest daughter's pretty innocent face and tell her,

"When you've lived outside the wall and seen some of the awful things out there… you'll understand that there are some things that you just need to keep between you and God… You understand sweetie?"

She nodded her head, and seeing that face, I shut my eyes saying, "When you return from mission, you'll come back with some of the best experiences of your life, and sometimes the worst experiences… Either way, when you return to New Canaan, you'll do so with a far better understanding of Christ and His boundless grace… But for now…"

I paused, "Please do dad a favor and go check up on the kids… I don't know what I was thinking having Hannah of all people keep tabs on Joseph."

A momentary silence ensued after that before I heard her stand herself up. After another moment, she took one step away before stopping and asking me;

"You going to the men's group at the Temple tonight, dad?"

I hadn't thought about that. It had been a while since I've had to go to a non-guard affiliated men's Bible study. Honestly, the idea of that made me wince a little bit, but still Michelle's presence remained and I did indeed need an evening with other men, so I said, "You bet sweetie," and with that, she left.

Shutting my eyes, I continued to relax there on the couch busying myself thinking about who I'd see at the men's group at the Temple, recalling all the fun and insightful nights I've had at the Guard's study nights. I didn't really associate with the non-guard community of New Canaan save for my neighbors on a regular basis. This wasn't out of any prejudice, it was just because I had been a member of the Guard for so long that they were my only true friends. A community within a community if you want to call it that.

Thinking about the differences between the two types of men in the community, I started thinking about where that difference started and how it was likely after the age of 18 where it began. There I thought of Michelle, already seventeen and getting ready for her first mission next year. Thinking back to my talk and advice to her, I truly wondered how she would return to us after her first mission and found myself unconsciously praying that hers wouldn't be anything like mine. There it was, the unimportant answer about why some men served in the guard and others didn't was clear in my mind.

I recalled chats with the guards in my detachment and guards under my lieutenant peers, remembering the stories I've heard and how 9 out of every 10 guards or entrance enforcers had the same experience on mission as I did. That being: it was awful.

Bear in mind that serving the Lord is never an awful thing if that is indeed what you are doing, but the experience of those men who joined the New Canaan Guard were normally along the lines of this:

A man goes on mission to live with one of the countless tribes of the Utah wilderness. The man has a wonderful time learning the culture and customs of their assigned tribe. Once the man has learned enough of the language and culture, he begins to show them the relevance of the gospel in their day-to-day lives. He becomes esteemed and highly regarded amongst the tribespeople, and then the go-to man for all matters of practicality and later spirituality. The man comes to serve as the bridge between the tribe's knowledge of life and then their relationship with the Father. The man manages to save many of them, sometimes even whole tribes, baptizing each tribal in the waters. The man feels so accomplished and like he's fulfilling God's work because he is.

Then one day, usually out of nowhere, the enemies in the wilderness descend upon the missionary and tribe. Their newfound faith is seen as weak by their enemies. Whether it is enemies like the hostile tribes of the north, south, east, and west, enemies like the NCR prospectors in the lands of the far western fringes, or enemies like the Legion beyond the mountains in the far east, they descend upon and ruin the work of that missionary.

The man returns from mission, miraculously spared from the horrors committed by the enemies of the Lord. Even if he brings back a few terrible wounds to his body, nothing quite compares to the wounds inside his mind and soul. Watching the innocent he spent so long protecting and helping get slaughtered, his only solace is that he managed to save some of their souls before witnessing their end. Although that hardly seems like a cause for celebration when the memories of what he saw and thoughts of what he could have done flashed through his mind. Either way, he returns to the gates of New Canaan knowing full well what the savagery the world outside is capable of and how the idea of that kind of evil coming for the ones he loves back home is too horrible to imagine yet still real. Immediately, that man offers up his life and gun to the defense of New Canaan. He puts on the uniform and stands atop the towers ready and more than willing to serve as an instrument of the Lord's wrath towards those who dared to harm His children or sack His Temple.

It is true that the story above isn't the case for everyone, but members of the Guard usually came from those who saw the worst in humanity out there on mission. Sometimes the missionary's assigned tribe was not completely destroyed. Sometimes the man returns from mission with a brand new ally for our community, but accompanying this news usually came more stories confirming the brutality of the world outside. Whether that was from a few savage attacks during their stay with the tribe, or from a few tense incidents that could've gone horribly wrong, members of the Guard were still the ones who had the greatest familiarity with the world and its barbarity. None of this is even to mention some of the "pickups" we've been getting from the wilderness as of late, but I will explain what I mean by that later on.

In the end, my story was a lot like that of the example missionary above. The details again will come later, but I knew where I stood, and everyday I'm reminded of why I serve the Guard when I see my children, embrace my friends, and remember what's outside in that vast and savage land beyond.

Considering all of this, I began to realize more and more how the Constable is right. The end of Evan Buller and all those others in my detachment that day was unbearably hard on its own, but again, the Constable was right. There is no reason that incident couldn't serve as a reminder of how important our work is. When I see my men atop the wall and remember the enemies all around us, what I see is the men who returned, the best men that humanity had to offer, the men who bore witness to the terror firsthand yet never succumbed to it or lost sight of God through all the chaos. After all, it isn't until one joins the Guard, swears their oath, and dons the uniform of an enforcer that they learn the truth about a decades old story. The story that shows just how important that new member of the Guard is when there remains the real example of the one who turned his back on us as well as the Lord.

I was woken up by my wife Dani kneeling beside me and gently stirring me awake. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, she said to me softly;

"I put your vest and boots in our room."

I could only let out a drowsy, "Thanks honey…"

Taking in the room, I must have only been out for around 30 or 40 minutes, but in the middle of the room, I saw all my kids sitting around the table quietly watching me and waiting for me to join them.

I met Dani's face, she smiled warmly, and said, "Come have lunch with us, then you can go right back to sleep."

She helped me stand up to avoid opening my injury any further and I took my place at the head of the table. I led us in grace and joined my family there at the table. All of us only able to listen as Joseph inhaled his meal and immediately began declaring his triumphs over Caleb and the Langdon sisters while we ate. The meal was wonderful, and Joseph asked to be excused as soon as I was done. He immediately bolted out of the house to resume playing with the neighbor kids under the watchful eye of Michelle with orders from Dani to be back inside and getting ready for evening service no later than 5pm. When Hannah was done, she asked to be excused, saying that she needed to read her youth group's assigned chapters in the book of Matthew since she didn't get to earlier. I allowed her to leave under the condition that she remove the La Fantoma comic book I knew she had hidden in the pages, and she begrudgingly agreed.

Meeting the face of my lovely wife on the other end of the table, we smiled at each other with thoughts of our wonderful children and happy life. The thoughts of all my time in the Guard, all that tragedy I've been through both distant past and recent past flickered in the back of my mind, but the more I looked at my wife's sweet freckled face and into those beautiful green eyes, the more those memories were pushed even further away. Seeing her smile, I thought about the concern and care on the face of the Constable, and then thought of all the faces of my loyal and excellent men in the Guard. The more I thought about all the wonderful people around me, the less heavy my failure to Evan Buller seemed, and that pale cold face I saw that day told me right here at this moment he was doing alright now, sitting right beside the most amazing being to ever grace this tragic world with His presence. I saw Evan Buller sitting right there beside Christ my Lord. Then, meeting the eyes of my wonderful wife, I stood from the table, and she walked me to our bed in the other room.

There was still plenty of time before the evening service and group Bible studies, but I laid there on our bed that afternoon feeling more content than I had in weeks. I had no idea what had changed in me. Within the space of an hour that day, I went from feeling emotionally destroyed and plagued to cared for beyond all reason by everyone around me.

As you've read, nothing too extravagant happened that afternoon, I didn't watch cancer get zapped from someone in an instant, I didn't watch Bishop Mordecai part the Great Salt Lake. No. I just started seeing the reminders of everything good, feeling all the love, as life went on in its usual way, and unconsciously took stock in all that was good around me. I'd ask myself what all those little things were exactly, what the cause of it was, but the answer came from Christ and all the people He's blessed me with. He calmed the storm by showing me ever so subtly what was here for me in this community devoted to Him.

It was on our marital bed that I lay in complete solitude and contentment. My wife had left to go clean up the kitchen, Hannah sat in the other room reading her scripture, my youngest played with his friends in the street while my eldest daughter watched him with the neighbors, and all was fine.

I felt myself drifting into sleep and my thoughts were about the face of Evan Buller in its new light. I knew he was ok with the creator of all, and that he had already forgiven me for my failure when he was united with Him. I knew there would be days in the future where the regrets and failure would haunt me again and that I would need reminding of who he's with. But as I considered how to remind myself of Christ's power when the darkness was coming, out of nowhere a completely foreign image consumed the entirety of my half-asleep mind.

All I could see was the skinless face of a man or beast wrapped in white cloth as those eyes, the bluest eyes I've ever seen shined right at me.

Before I could awake myself in panic, I was already asleep.

A/N: After a short hiatus, I intend to write the majority of this story as I go but will be releasing what I have so far in the coming weeks! I hope you all enjoy! This one may read much more differently than my story about the Legion duellists but this is one I've been meaning to write for a while.. As always, constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome as I am still figuring out where exactly I intend to take this story so your feedback will be more than appreciated. I love you all and I pray you enjoy my take on the days of New Canaan and the time of Joshua Graham's return!