Faith Abandoned - Chapter 2

'Plead my cause, oh Lord, with them that strive with me: fight against them that fight against me. Take hold of shield and buckler, and stand up for mine help. Draw out also the spear, and stop the way against them that persecute me: say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. Let them be confounded and put to shame that seek after my soul: let them be turned back and brought to confusion that devise my hurt.'

I sat in the darkened room, hoping, thinking… Almost praying. Two books sat in my hands. Both closed. They were the only books I owned now, the only ones that I could spare room for in the unorganised mess that I'd brought with me, the only belongings I had left in the world beyond clothes. I'd been looking at them for hours now and, even though it pains me to say it, inspiration was no closer now than when I pulled them out of my bag. I couldn't choose between them. One… One was my life, but I didn't know which anymore.

Around me, people fussed and checked as machines whirred and beeped. Everyone had a purpose here. Everyone except me. I sat and watched, trying hard not to think back on the previous day. In truth, most of the previous day and night were nothing but a blur to me. I felt like I'd been transported from the monastery to this room in an instant. Intellectually, I knew that this couldn't have been the case but for my life I couldn't remember anything but the dire need to see the men I now sat between.

My thumb ran over the spines of the books in my hands, a soothing movement, as I tried to make sense of the previous day. What had all started with a simple visit had ended in a situation darker than I'd anticipated.

Yesterday morning, I'd been happily ensconced in the monastery trying to fully understand the mysteries of the God that I served. Divinity surrounded me and I had been blissfully unaware of everything outside the monastery shield, or at least it had all become an abstract idea of a world to me. Don't get me wrong. Of course I knew that the military still fought and that men still died. The news reports featured very little else. But it had all been removed from me.

My purpose in life was to offer platitudes and prayers to people who needed them, to strive to make people better, to keep them on the narrow path to redemption. How could I do that now? How could I do that when all I could see when I closed my eyes was the agony on the face of the bishop as I tore through his mind to gain that one grain of knowledge that would help my former friends survive? When all I heard was the scream that I had ripped out of him as his last mental barrier had been shredded?

I sighed and just like that the choice I'd struggled with for hours was made. I looked down at the books and dropped one in the nearby trashcan. Sacrilegious possibly - definitely - but I didn't have any further need for the words written between the pages of the 'Good Book'. It was a symbolic gesture more than anything else. The words would be in my brain forever. The joy of indelible programming. Six solid months of downloads. That was what it had taken for the Church to take over my existence. Every religious text and scripture poured into my mind, discussions and debates, anything that was deemed 'necessary' to my training. And none of it my choice. My old commanding officer had said that I quit, implied that I had turned my back on the program, that I had left of my own volition. Nothing could be have been further from the truth.

A long time ago, they argued the separation of Church and State, argued until they were indeed two separate entities so opposed in their views that it was as if the country had become two countries. The old adage of 'with us or against us' had come to pass in reality. This was during the time of the First Breakthrough. The church followers had fallen to their knees and buried their heads in prayer screaming about apocalypse and the unworthiness of man. The military had dealt with the situation head on, sending troops out to deal with what the Breakthrough had thrown at us. But neither side had been prepared for what had happened.

Soldiers had no defences and had found that they were either taken over or left as dried out husks with nothing resembling a soul left. Locked up and used for experiments or dead in everything but body, it was a toss-up which was worse. The military discovered the key to fighting these creatures was through the use of, what they termed, extra human powers. They'd fought fire with fire. And that was where I came in, as one of their extra human fighters, fifth generation. Born at 18 from a vat after scientists had poked around with my genes enough that I was barely human anymore. Trained just enough to be dangerous. The military was my life. The military was all I had ever known. I had thought that it would be all I'd ever know. Turns out I was wrong.

I'd been kneeling in a ditch, covered up to my nuts - you know it feels weird saying or thinking that word again after so long - in mud as I waited for an ambush to be sprung. That was when it happened. A weird feeling of peace and harmony, oneness and togetherness with something greater than I was. A religious experience, I was told later. I almost laughed when they told me. How could I have a religious experience when I knew nothing about religion?

But thanks to the 'Shared Information Agreement' that the government had passed two years earlier, my file was passed off to the Church for evaluation. A big, fat check and everything that I had ever known was gone. Everything that had meant something to me, my unit, my friends - gone in an instant. I never even got to say goodbye. Hell, I never even got a choice in my career change. Training and assignment and I was supposed to just fit in. Supposed to forget that I was bred to fight. To kill. To die in some wonderful battle saving the world from itself. I'd been given a collar and a uniform and told to lead civilians in prayer, not soldiers into battle. Hell of a change for a vat-grown boy like me.

I looked over at Dave in the bed where he lay, sighing again - I was doing that a lot - as I let my eyes wander over the pieces of equipment taking in the readings even if they meant nothing to me. Dave had understood why I had disappeared, what had happened. He'd never held it against me. He'd helped me keep my sanity just by turning up at the monastery every now and then for a blessing. A friendly face. Something familiar in that sea of change.

I guess that was part of why I was here. I needed to repay that debt. I needed to be here now, penance for not being with them during the battle. I needed to apologize for not getting the information to them on time.

A moan from behind me made me turn to look at Danny, the newbie. His head was thrashing from side to side as he mumbled something beneath his breath. A bad dream or memory, I guessed. I looked away from him for a moment, looking at the monitors behind him. A scream tore from his throat as he sat bolt upright in his bed, eyes open but unseeing as some unseen horror danced in his vision. I wish I could say that I had no idea what was happening, but I'd seen it too often before.

After a fight, it wasn't unusual for one, or more, of the men to freak out in their sleep. The demon's touch. That's what we called it. Course, the brass always denied that it was a real side effect of fighting but we knew better. We were the ones out there fighting, not them. We were the ones who had to hold our friends down and make sure that they didn't kill themselves during the night, not them. Never them. God forbid that they would get their hands dirty. I sometimes wondered how they'd even gotten their heads out of their asses long enough to notice that the world had a problem. But one way or another they had and that was another part of the reason that I was here now. They needed someone who knew the score, who could calm them down if the worst happened. And the worst was happening now.

Instinct took over as I reached out to him, taking his hand in mine and letting my consciousness slip into his, letting myself push aside his shields and opening the door to his dreamscape. A gross invasion of privacy but a necessary one.

The ground around me was hard, broken, brown. Thumping with the feet of a thousand legions running. A barren wasteland stretched out as far as my eyes could see. Despair washed over me as I stood there, looking around. It made me want to curl up into a little ball but I knew I couldn't. I forced myself to walk, to follow the path that pulled me forward. Each step was agony. Fighting against someone else's will. I could make out a sniffling sound coming from all around me. The sound echoed around me. Through me. Almost deafening me. I closed my eyes, letting my ears, my senses locate the source of the noise. Shutting out everything else. I moved in the darkness, my eyes still closed until the sound was louder.

I opened my eyes, letting myself take in my new surroundings. At my feet lay the rookie, curled up to save himself. Before me stood the largest creature I had ever seen, and the most terrifying. More arms than a beast should ever have stretched out towards me, trying in vain to grab me, tear me apart. It was slowly lumbering forward. Reaching. Grabbing. Screaming.

I could feel the hate and pure vitriol coming from the beast in waves. I was one step away from puking. I had felt similar before but never to this strength. The beauty of a nightmare. I ducked a sweep of its smoke grey arms. I felt the gust of air pass over my head, barely missing me. It may be a nightmare but instinct takes over in combat and I wasn't willing to take the chance of injury because this time it wouldn't be physical. Another beauty of invading nightmares.

I bent, placing a hand on Danny's shoulder, trying to get his attention but he was curled into a foetal position. I shook him gently as I tried to rouse him from his self-inflicted terror. I knew that the only way this was going to end was with him facing up to his demons. Another shake and nothing happened. This was doing no good. I closed my eyes and thought for a second, letting my own inner calm out. I let my mind cocoon me in peace and warmth and then pushed it out. Pushed it out until Danny could feel it, until it touched him and started to curl around him. I could feel the terror start to fade. Think of it as the ultimate form of therapy, someone in your brain fixing what was wrong from the inside, tramping combat boots over your psyche.

The cracked ground stopped shaking and started to mend itself as soothing drops of water fell from the imaginary sky. The beast in front of us stopped fighting and looked up with a look of puzzlement on its face. A drop fell on it. Then another. Another and another. The monster screamed in agony. Each drop of water that hit left a smoking crater. A pit in the already uneven surface of the beast. Danny uncurled slowly, barely daring to look at the monster being ravaged by a few harmless drops of water. First he peeked and then he uncurled enough to take a good look, a long look.

It took minutes but he finally stood to his feet, his eyes never leaving the monster. But as he pulled himself together, the rain started falling faster, harder. The beast was in agony. Its smoke grey skin was peeling and burning, falling in clumps on the ground at its feet. It's voice dropped to a whisper and then to nothing as its throat caved in, burnt away.

Neither of us moved for what seemed like minutes. The beast melted away until all that was left was a discoloured patch of ground in front of us. Danny moved forward carefully, toeing the ground with his combat boots. Still wary. Finally, he looked up at me, but all the time glancing back at the patch of ground, never taking his view far from the mess on the ground. Even in his nightmares, the kid had good instincts. Truthfully, I hadn't realised that he had registered my presence before then. He smiled and said a single word.

"Thanks!"

I nodded my head. I hadn't done much for the kid but maybe it had been enough. Would he have gotten out of it on his own? I don't know. But one way or another, it was time for me to go. This wasn't my dream. This wasn't my nightmare. Although that might change. The kid would have to deal with the rest on his own.

I turned to find a doorway. The same as any doorway you'd find in a house. I looked back at the kid and smiled before opening the door and stepping through. Darkness surrounded me, close, oppressive darkness.

The first noise I registered after the blackness was a voice and hardly an angel's voice at that. Rather that of a harpy, shrieking words that were just beyond my understanding. My eyes opened like they'd been coated in molasses. I blinked once, twice and then refocused on the finger pointed at my face, shuffling back in my seat away from the accusing digit.

"… dare you come in and sit there asleep. They died because your lot wouldn't do anything but pray. I won't have you sit there and pray for them now. Take your faith and get the hell outta their room. You're not good enough to even…"

I looked at the woman, almost unchanged since the last time I saw her. I had to bite back a smile because I knew it would only add fuel to the fire of her ranting. And that was one thing I didn't want to do. She didn't need the help anyway. The entire unit had been afraid of this woman, even the captain and he'd chosen to marry her. Five foot two inches tall and she still managed to reduce generals to schoolboys. It was quite a feat. And by the sounds of it she was only just warming up in her rant against me.

"Helen!"

I tried to break into the tirade but still she continued.

"… better than the likes of you with your…"

"Helen, I'm not…"

Another attempt but still nothing.

"… alleviate your guilt on someone else you…"

I had to get her attention somehow, break into the rant. I decided that possibly a physical gesture would be better. Hell, it couldn't hurt. Worst outcome was that she kept talking and if I did nothing that was going to happen anyway.

I stood and reached up to my collar and pulled that stiff white collar free from my black shirt and tossed it on the ground. I stamped my foot down on it and ground it under my foot. It got her attention. Either that or she'd stopped to draw a breath for the next phase of the rant. Either way, I wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

"Helen, it's Pete!"

She looked at me, really looked. Finally, she saw beyond the uniform and saw me. Her mouth hung open. If we had been anywhere else but standing between two hospital beds, one with her husband in it, it would have been funny but here and now, it wasn't. Nothing was.

"Pete?" She asked, slightly lost.

"Yeah, it's me."

The words seemed inadequate but what else could I say? She took a step forward, closing the distance between us. Before I could say or do anything, her hand snapped out and hit me, catching me across the cheek. I saw the next one coming but I did nothing, letting her hit me again. Didn't cost me anything to let her hit me but if it made her feel better then who was I to stand in her way?

She drew back her hand to hit me again but stopped halfway to my face, her shoulders slumping. The hand hit me but there was no force to it. She rubbed my cheek as her eyes welled up.

"What happened, Pete? You left… You left them. You left us."

There was no accusation in her words but I still felt guilty. I could protest that I had no choice from not to the next Breakthrough but it wouldn't make me feel any better. Wouldn't make the answer any easier. So I stayed quiet.

Helen fell into my chest as the first tear ran down her cheek. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to think of an appropriate platitude. It was instinct now but I rebelled against it. That wasn't who I was anymore. I'd given up that part of my life. So I just held her. I could feel the wet soaking into my shirt. She cried, shoulders shaking, chest hurting sobs that came from the soul. And I just held her. It was all I could do for her so I did it without reservation. I promised the captain that I'd look after her if anything happened and that was what I was going to do.

Hours. Minutes. Seconds. I had no idea how long we stood there like that, her wrapped up in my arms using my shirt as a tissue. But I can tell you that it was a cough that separated us. And it was the best sound I had heard in years. I looked over, expecting to see a nurse or a doctor standing there but there was only Dave, his eyes open, looking at us.

I squeezed Helen's arm slightly until she looked up at me and with a glance, I told her to look at her husband. She looked and for a second seemed totally lost. It was the second time I had seen her lost today and only the second time since I had known her. I unwrapped myself from her and gave her a push. She would have stumbled but she caught herself and moved towards the bed. I looked away as they reunited, feeling like I was intruding on an intimate moment.

Instead, I stepped outside the room, looking up and down the hallway. Already, doctors and nurses were heading towards the room, no doubt alerted by the readings of all that machinery. But behind them was someone else, not hospital staff. His eyes met mine and my spine wanted to retreat into the soles of my feet. Colonel Jonathan Blake, commander of the USMC's Preternatural Unit and all round asshole to anyone who gets in his or his men's way.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Harris?"

That voice was all I'd heard awake or dreaming for more years than I could count and it still made me shiver. I snapped to attention, saluting where I stood.

"You ain't answered my question, Harris."

Physically, he was shorter than me, but every time I saw him the fact surprised me. He always seemed bigger than anyone else, more imposing.

"Visiting the Captain, sir."

"You get clearance for this, boy?"

The image of the bishop on the floor, hurt, dying, or already dead, flashed through my mind. The bastard knew I didn't. He probably knew everything.

"I didn't think so." His gruff voice answered his own question. "Harris, you're Church now. You should go back."

I tried to answer him but there was a lump in my throat stopping me. I swallowed, and tried to force the words out.

"I can't."

It was nothing more than a whisper but the Colonel heard.

"Don't your lot do that forgiveness thing?"

"They're not my lot, sir. I'm a soldier." I said, spitting the words out.

The Colonel caught me and knocked me into a wall, pinning me there.

"You're not a soldier anymore, Harris. You got transferred."

Each word was punctuated with a finger to the ribs. I pulled myself up, pushing away from the wall and stood at attention again.

"I am a soldier. No amount of crap downloaded into my brain is going to change that… Sir!"

The colonel stepped back, looking at me as he rubbed his beard with a hand. I stared resolutely straight ahead. I'd said my piece. It wasn't much but anything else I could add would only be repetition and that would get you nowhere with the Colonel. Ball was in his court now. I could count time on the heartbeat in my ears.

After what seemed like forever, the Colonel spoke.

"You called in the info on the demon."

It wasn't a question but I felt the need to answer it.

"Yes, sir!"

"How'd you get it?"

Of all the questions that he could have asked, that was the one I was hoping that he wouldn't ask. Sure, I accepted that I'd done it. Nothing that I could tell myself would change that but admitting it out loud… That was something else. It made it more real. Not that the body on the floor hadn't been real. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The Commander wouldn't wait forever for an answer.

"I…" I straightened myself up. "I extracted the information in accordance with section 17 of the USMC Guidelines for War, sir. The target resisted interrogation so I resorted to extra human methods."

"Why?" The Colonel asked.

I looked down at the Colonel in surprise before snapping straight again.

"Why, sir?"

Why what? He couldn't be asking me why I'd done it, could he?

"Why did you do it, Harris?"

Shit, he was asking me that. What the hell was he thinking? He had to know the answer to that… Didn't he?

"Sir?"

"It's a simple question, Harris. I know the Church prides itself on Latin but they speak English don't they? Why did you shred someone's mind to find out the details? You aren't military. You're Church!"

I couldn't help but stare at him.

"Sir… They're… They were my friends. I'd just done a blessing on them to help keep them safe. I knew the mission was blind. How could I do anything else? We both know that they were headed on a suicide mission. Anything I could find out would be a help. I just wish I'd gotten through sooner. It might have…"

The colonel held up his hand.

"Shut up, Harris. No point in 'what ifs'. You know that as well as I do."

"I just…" I started.

"Harris. Wouldn't have made a difference. Trust me!"

Something in the colonel's eyes made me stop and really look at him. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. Maybe he was right. Maybe it would be better if I put it out of my mind. I'd never know the answer, so what was the point of the recriminations?

The colonel turned and started towards the door to the room. I watched him. Just as he entered the room, he stopped, looking back at me.

"Fall in."

My breath caught at those two words. Just like that, I was back in. The details didn't matter, the colonel would deal with that side of it. But I was back. I was Military again. And damn it felt good.

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