Ex-Communication by Peter Clines (love story books to read .txt) 📕

hand again. “A bit weird to see you here,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Just checking in,” said the hero. “I was flying by, realized I hadn’t talked to you in a while. How are things going?”

Andy shrugged. “Not bad. The confessional’s been busy. There’s a lot of people who’ve been burdened by things they’ve done, stuff they want to get off their chests.”

“Anything I should know about?”

Andy shook his head. “It’s survivor’s guilt more than anything else. That’s why all the churches are so popular. Hell, my last sermon was standing room only. Can’t tell you the last time I saw that in a church.”

“Are you allowed to say ‘hell’ now that you’re a priest?”

“I have to say ‘hell.’ It’s part of the job description. Although, technically, if I’m the last one left I think it makes me the Pope.”

“Pope Andy the First does have a ring to it,” said St. George.

The priest shook his head. “I’ve got to be honest. After all we’ve seen, I’d be tempted to take the name Thomas.”

St. George smiled.

“Nothing else?” asked Father Andy.

The hero looked up at the big cross above the altar. “What can you tell me about the A.D. folks?”

Andy let out a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a snort. Then he shrugged. “Well, they’re following general Christianity, for the most part,” he said. “More of an oversized prayer circle or Bible study group than an actual religious sect. I mean, in the big scheme of things, they’re like all of us. They’re trying to understand God’s plan and establish a set—”

“No,” said St. George. “I’m not looking for a polite religious comparison. I want to know what you think about them.”

The priest took in a slow breath, leaned against the back of a pew, and lowered his voice. “Look, I know every religion thinks every other religion’s got it wrong, so anything I say they could probably say against me, but still … these people are grasping.”

“How so?”

“How well do you know your Bible?”

St. George shook his head. “Not at all really. I mean, I know a couple of the stories, but …”

“Don’t worry about it.” Andy crossed his arms. “The After Death folks go through the Bible and cherry-pick verses that fit what they want to believe. Thessalonians, a fair amount of Revelation, one of them even spouted a few verses of Ezekiel at me once. They just pull stuff from anywhere without considering context. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘When there is no room in Hell, the dead shall walk the Earth,’ or some variation on it?”

“A few times, yeah.” He took an educated guess. “Is it from Revelations?”

“Revelation, singular,” said Father Andy. “And no, it isn’t. It’s just the tagline from an old zombie movie.”

“It’s not even based on one?”

Andy shook his head. “But they’re still treating it like the word of God. They just clutch onto anything that lets them cope with what’s happened to the world. More to the point, they try to spin all of it their way, no matter what the context or classical interpretation is. These days, I’m pretty damned liberal in interpreting the word of God, but I still can’t see any way to resolve their beliefs with what the book actually says.”

“You can say ‘damn,’ too?”

“Yep. Seriously, we all need to cope in our own way, but their whole mind-set is just a little too zealous for my liking. And I’m saying that as a Catholic priest.”

“Yeah.”

Father Andy uncrossed his arms and set them down on the back of the pew. It was a very relaxed pose. “I would’ve thought Stealth would’ve had all this down in a file somewhere already. With much more precise references.”

“She probably does,” the hero said with a shrug. “I was just flying by and saw the church, and their church a little farther down. Figured I’d stop by and talk to you about them.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Father Andy met his eyes for another few seconds and then nodded. “Okay,” he said. “But you know, if you ever want to talk about anything …”

“I know where to find you.” They shook hands again. “Do you miss going out on scavenging runs?”

The priest smiled. “Going out to fight with zombies over cans of beans? Not as much as you’d think.”

St. George sailed back into the air. He flew in a lazy circle and swung down by the southwest corner of the Big Wall. The After Death church was below him, a newer building that looked more like a meeting hall than a place of worship.

There were three people he didn’t recognize standing in the parking lot, each with a book tucked under their arm. One of them caught a glimpse of him and they all shielded their eyes to look up. They smiled and waved. The man who’d first seen him looked more familiar when he smiled.

It occurred to St. George, not for the first time, that there were enough people living in Los Angeles now that he couldn’t recognize them all on sight.

The people went back to their discussion. St. George widened his flight circle to take him out over Larchmont and back across the South Wall. A few sentries waved or saluted as he flew past. He returned the gestures.

He passed over rows of houses that once had prices in the high six figures, maybe even seven. Most of them were first come, first serve now. Many of them had solar panels on their roofs, scavenged from across Los Angeles. It had only taken the end of the world to make the city embrace green technology.

He flew north and passed over the Melrose Gate. It was still strange to see the gates standing open and the streets mostly empty.

Cerberus was outside on the edge of the cobblestones, just where the road turned back to sun-cracked pavement. The armored battlesuit looked up at him with tennis ball–size lenses. He waved, and the metal skull returned it with a casual nod before turning and heading down the street. It