[b]Trinity Episcopal Church, Diocese of West Missouri
Day 238, Tuesday, 8:59 am[/b]

Danny woke from a sound sleep. For a few moments he forgot that he wasn't at home snuggled in his comfy bed. He rolled up to a sitting position and twisted his torso side to side a few times. He had fashioned a small bed from various seat cushions and altar rail pillows, but it still wasn't enough to keep his back from getting bent out of shape. He yawned and stretched his arms and legs before removing all of the hangings he had been using as blankets and standing up. There was a definite chill in the air with the low temperature outside, so he rushed to his closet, shed his robe-gown, and quickly pulled on his black pants and black long-sleeved shirt. He turned to the chest next to it and pulled out a pair of black socks and his white collar. After he pulled on the socks he took the collar to the small bathroom off the vesting sacristy and stood in front of the mirror. Not much daylight could reach the interior of the bathroom, so he had placed some votive candles and a box of matches inside. He lit one before buttoning his shirt and affixing his collar. He leaned forward and smiled at the mirror. He turned his head from side to side and ran a hand over his stubble. He'd need to shave again soon. He pushed both hands through his hair and looked at it accusingly. It was at least two inches longer than he liked to keep it, but he decided that he was too lazy to cut it today.

He walked back out and to the chest he had taken his collar from. Atop sat a liturgical calendar. Today was an ordinary weekday, but tomorrow was the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi. He always looked at it as one of the more bull shit holy days, on which the church always held an event called Blessing of the Animals. Much as the name describes, people would bring their pets to be blessed by himself and the Rector. He chuckled thinking about it.

Next, he glanced over at his to-do list. On 'Tally Tuesdays,' his chores centered around taking account of his supply stores and checking his fortifications. Still feeling pretty cold, he went back to the closet and pulled out his heavier sarum cassock, which would insulate him quite well, and slipped on his black shoes. He put his pocket knife in one pocket, his cigarettes and matches in the other.

He unlocked the vesting room door and walked out to the marble altar, listening as his foot steps echoed on the slate floor. He walked down the stairs to the altar and made his way to the church entrance, passing by the ghosts of parishioners in the pews. The ten stained glass windows had been haphazardly boarded from the inside with broken down pews that some of the first visitors after Valentine's Day had erected, but still allowed for enough light through the cracks to at least see where you were going. When he got to the narthex he pulled back the glass doors and went over to the votive candle fixture. He glanced at the crucifix hanging above it before lighting three candles. He knelt and prayed for his sister and parents. Not realizing how dangerous the situation was going to get, they had all agreed the first week that all three would hole up in the family home and that he would stay in the church. Assuming that everything would be back to normal in a few months, he had made plans to get to them. Things never went back to normal though. They only worsened.

When he was finished with his prayer he went to the church entrance. The heavy wooden doors had been locked, then chained and locked again with a padlock. He yanked it a few times before continuing his rounds. He went to each window in the place and tugged at the planks to make sure they were secure. If there were any loose, he made note to fix it later. When he was done with that he made his way to the working sacristy. At one point in time, this was a busiest area in the sanctuary, where the altar guild kept liturgical church decorations, the eucharistic ministers kept everything needed for communion, and the outreach volunteers organized community fundraisers, and food and clothing drives. He smiled remembering all of their faces. He walked to the back of the room where there was another door that opened to two sets of staircases, one that led down, and one that led up. He kept a flashlight just past the entrance and turned it on before he made his way downstairs to the basement. This is where all of the food was kept.

Trinity was home to one of the largest food banks in the area. It was something he had always been proud of, and something now that was keeping him alive. Once upon a time the rows of shelves were completely stocked with donations of canned and packaged foods, and bottled water. Needy families could come down with a shopping list once a week to pick out what they needed. When Valentine's Day came he left the doors open for weeks to offer people shelter and food. He lost a lot of sleep trying to organize and ration everything appropriately. At first, everyone and their mother made a stop by to be saved and get right with their maker. The Rector had been on educational sabbatical, so he enlisted the help of a few regulars that had come to stay to get everything set up for the end of the world. Eventually though, everyone left him, whether it was to look for lost loved ones, or seek out government help and safety. Despite the fact that he wanted to leave himself and search for his family, he knew he had to stay. He got a few stragglers in months three and four, but by the end of month five he was forced to lock the doors permanently.

He reckoned he had about enough food left for himself to last through the end of the year, not to mention a pretty vast supply of communion wafers and wine. He grabbed a bottle of said wine and a can of lima beans before going back upstairs. He dropped them off at the entrance to the sacristy then he went up the top staircase.

Before he opened the door to the roof he switched the flashlight off. When the cold air hit him, he cringed and hugged himself. The roof over the sanctuary was flat, the only exception being the area over the church entrance which vaulted up to form the steeple and bell tower. He looked up toward the sun. It felt good on his face. Danny had reserved the roof for water collection. He had every manner of tub, container, and can set out to collect rain and snow.

“WOoooooo death, WOOOOOOOOO deeeeath, won't ya spare me over t' another yeaarr...” No use in spending the next few hours in silence. Singing always helped pass the time. He walked over to the left edge of the roof and looked out over the land. Desolate, abandoned.

“Well what iiis this, that I caain't seEEE with ICE cold hands takin' hooold a meee...” He walked from one side of the roof to the other looking over the rest of the church campus, buildings, yards, and parking lot. Nothing out there but about ten dumbshows shuffling along with nowhere in particular to be. He wondered if his family was out there somewhere wandering around among the living dead.

“Well Iii am death, none can excel, I'll open the doorr to heaven or heeeellll...” He tilted his head back and belted up at the sky. When he got his fill of the view, he started the collection process which consisted of dumping anything in smaller containers into a singular larger one, carrying that larger one back down to the working sacristy and emptying it into the stopped sink. Repeat as necessary.

When he was done he locked everything back up and took his bottle of wine and can of beans to the table in the working sacristy. He grabbed an empty can he had rinsed and set by the sink to dry and filled it with water. He drank it fast before sitting down. Now plenty warm from the work, he removed his cassock and rolled up his sleeves. He opened the can of beans with his pocket knife and twisted the cap off the bottle of wine. He ate in silence and later returned to his 'apartment' in the vesting sacristy with what was left of his bottle of wine and put his cassock back on. He set down the bottle of wine and looked at his three best friends, Cherry, Hugh, and Lex.

“Well, what's it gonna be today, ya'll?” He picked up Hugh and took him back out to the sanctuary and set him on the altar. He climbed up himself, took a cigarette and a match from his pocket and lit it up before lighting the two altar candles. He took a long drag and sighed as he blew it out before sitting and placing Hugh comfortably in his lap.

After a few minutes of tuning the five string banjo, he started plucking away. “Some bright moornin' when this life is ooo'eeerrr, Iii'llll fly away...” He played and sang as loudly as he could. He wanted to fill the empty place up with sound again.