Free Tribulation by Philip W Simpson Page B

be enough to rose
Grace out of her stupor and tempt her to eat.
    Cooking the
skewers more thoroughly than usual in case of disease, he set them
on the plates to cool. He took the last rat, sliced the meat off it
and put it in the small pot with some more of his dwindling supply
of water, using it to make a broth. Finally, everything was ready
and he returned to Grace’s bedroom. He propped her up on some
pillows and fed her some of the soup. Her eyes still didn’t open
but she seemed to open her mouth and swallow by reflex. Sam took
this as a positive sign – at least she was eating.
    While he fed
her, he ate two of the skewers of rat meat. As he suspected, they
were delicious; although he didn’t eat very often these days, he
still got some basic enjoyment out of it. He chewed slowly,
savoring the experience and taste as he spoon-fed Grace the last of
the broth When they had both finished, he slid the meat off the
remaining two skewers and hand-fed them to Grace. Somehow, she was
still able to chew and he got the meat of at least one of the
skewers into her before she pinched her mouth shut, refusing to eat
anymore.
    Gradually, over
the next few days, Grace appeared to improve. Her skin color
changed from the unhealthy pallor to a warmer glow. Her wounds were
beginning to heal as well. Sometimes, when she slept, she’d scream.
During those times, Sam would sit with her, Grace squeezing his
hand so tightly that even he would grimace in pain, mopping the
sweat off her brow as she thrashed about. She still hadn’t opened
her eyes or uttered one coherent word ...
    Thankfully, no
demons made an appearance which would have made their position
untenable. It occurred to Sam to burn down the church. At first he
thought it was pointless given that he’d have to thoroughly bless
and wet the area with Holy water. How was he meant to do that with
his pathetic amount of water? Then he got lucky. Exploring one of
the other houses in the small town, he found an old well, deep in
the cellar. The water was stagnant, but it was still water. A few
drops of iodine or boiling it would make it safe for Grace to
drink. He could also use it to make Holy water. He wasn’t a priest
but he was sure that, under the circumstances, God would make an
exception.
    At first, he
dismissed the idea. It was too risky burning down the church. The
fire had the potential to spread and he wasn’t in a position to
move fast enough with Grace in tow. Also, if the entire town burnt
down, where was he meant to nurse her? Not only that, but he was
extremely wary of Holy water. He wasn’t even sure if he could make
it or not but he certainly knew the effect it had on him. It was
like acid. If he was using buckets of it, he was bound to splash
some of it on himself at some point. While not fatal in small
quantities, it was certainly extremely painful.
    But then the
demons came. It was only a pack of Lemure but Sam didn’t take the
threat lightly. He dispatched them with ruthless efficiency. Their
appearance served as a catalyst for action. The demons knew that
they were there now and the following night would bring them in
greater numbers.
    The next day,
at dusk, he prepared carefully. He found a hardware store and
emptied its shelves completely of buckets. He took several down to
the well in the cellar, filling them with the stagnant water. He
dampened down the house where Grace rested, dousing the walls with
as much water as he could. Next, he set up a series of buckets near
the church – to put out any fires that sprung up accidentally. He
carried more buckets over to the church and set them down in front
of it, gazing at them thoughtfully. His plan was to fill them with
holy water but he’d have to bless them first, obviously.
    If he was being
honest, Sam wasn’t even sure that his plan would succeed. Wasn’t
the water meant to come from a spring or at least a more pure
source than a stagnant well? But then again, he remembered Big Tom
saying that a