Chapter 108
- Kaysi -
The church didn't look like there was much to it from the outside.
The brick was the same color as dried blood, a deep brownish red. Windows fogged from decades of weather and dust. An old, rotted, and chipped wooden sign that read SANCTUARY, barely legible.
But we stepped inside the polarity in atmospheric conditions, which gave a totally different contrast to the environments. As different as night and day.
Warmth hit first—not just heat from the vents, but something deeper, the kind that came from people caring. The air smelled faintly of coffee, cinnamon rolls, and the polish used to keep the pews from splintering.
The main hall was alive with motion. Volunteers weaving through rows of tables, unloading boxes, and passing blankets. Uncle at the center, sleeves rolled up and face lined with that familiar weariness that somehow never touched his eyes and calm voice. I expected as much thanks to the similar smells I inherited from the bakery.
"Displaced families will be brought here, He conducted the volunteers like a maestro leading an orchestra, gesturing to the fellowship hall. We've got cots on the way. The kitchen's open to anyone who is hungry, no questions asked. We'll need security posted outside and a volunteer to keep the crowd moving."
He didn't bark orders; he guided with them, fitting each task to the person like it was meant for them all along.
Duke stood off to the side, arms crossed, scanning the crowd with that quiet, watchful intensity he carried everywhere. Baby leaned on his shoulder—or tried to—grinning up at him like she was trying to make him crack.
Baby teases. " You'll pull something if you keep standing there that stiff.
I am standing normally," Duke replied, eyebrow raised, not moving.
"Exactly my point," she shot back as Duke shifted his focus to picking up a box after.
Evan was already unloading crates from the back of the truck with no command or order directing his path. He was focused and dedicated to his work, not making eye contact with anyone.
Micah kept up with Evan's pace beside him, chatting with a group of kids while she carried blankets stacked nearly as tall as she was, as if it were a contest.
James trailed behind her, steadily keeping his eyes fixed on her with a much smaller stack. Hey, Micah, slow down; you're going to trip and fall on someone.
"These blankets? Easy. Watch this." She shot back, flashing him a grin. She said, at the moment, almost tripping but correcting and catching herself quickly without losing one blanket gracefully.
James beamed at her, telling you to look without another word.
Becky had taken over the kitchen, organizing a bit and cleaning up the place that looked like it had not been touched in weeks. Her sleeves were already covered in dust from the shelves and counters.
And Josh... Well, Josh made sure to carry twice as much as Evan did. Chest puffed up and showing off.
"These crates aren't even heavy. He called out, just loud enough for Evan to hear. "I could lift 100." He bragged.
Evan didn't glance his way, but you could see a vein slowly popping out in his neck after Josh's comment.
I stepped into the rhythm without thinking—helping an older woman find her coat. They went to carry cups of soup to families huddled at the far table. I listened to a man talk about his apartment, which he lost outside the dome that sealed us. Everyone played their part, moving, working, and doing what they could to help.
It felt...almost normal. Like a real sanctuary was meant to be. And even with the panic, the town are all facing in the dome.
Almost.
As some of us took a short break, I overheard a hushed conversation about the coffee pot. I couldn't help but notice one girl poured herself her 3rd cup of the day.
"Have you seen Thomas?" One of the staff asked, voice low.
The other shook his head. "The kid from the youth group helping out? Haven't seen him around here since last night."
"He couldn't go home; his people are outside the dome. Weren't you in charge of chaperoning him and three others?"
I stepped closer. Excuse me, who is Thomas?
"He's a volunteer who was displaced during the youth group's practice concert we were going to perform this weekend for the community." The lady said, sipping her coffee.
"Could just be wandering around," the second volunteer said with a shrug. "People go missing all the time—drifters come and go. Happens more than you think."
"That's different," the coffee lady's voice hardened. "This is a child."
Josh wandered up mid-conversation, catching that last time. "Want me to check around?"
I glanced up at him. "I was just thinking that we can both look with four eyes; it's better than 2."
"Fine," he muttered, already scanning the hall.
We searched the fellowship hall, the kitchen, and even the back offices—no Thomas. A narrow stairwell caught my eye—half-hidden behind a stack of storage bins.
"Are you thinking what I am thinking?" Josh asked.
"That depends," I said, moving the storage bins as we uncovered more of the entrance.
"If you're thinking this may be a bad idea, then yes. I said, looking up at him as I saw fresh handprints shift across the dust of the handrail.
He smirked. "Guess we are doing this anyway, then."
"Yeah, two stubborn people focused on finding someone missing... I don't think we will get into trouble looking down here."
We moved in further down the stairwell, steps echoing, telling us we have much further to go.
"Well... this is quite far; maybe we should go back and get a light. This church is so old that the basement hasn't been updated with the necessary electrical updates.
The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut.
I lost my footing in the dark, and Josh caught me and lit a light with his hand, holding the cyan-colored soul fire flames in his divine tech-powered arm.
"Damn, are you good. Becky would have been even more mad at me if you had taken any more damage with me around." He blurted.
"What, do you mean anymore?"
Josh went for the door, yanking the handle. I didn't budge. We knocked really hard and shouted for a bit, but no one came.
"Looks like we are trapped," Josh said, scanning the doorframe for any cracks or openings he could pry.
"The question is who and why? Was this an accident or a setup?"