K. Marvin Bruce

  In an unusual move, as if anything could be considered usual for them, both Lindsey and Terah walked into Scotrun together for supplies.   The danger of being recognized and noted seemed less urgent than finding a way forward.   Their working hypothesis had been that demons would be deterred by consecrated ground had informed their decision to aim for the convent. Although Lindsey had indicated that it wasn’t a long-term solution Terah had been hoping that it might become one anyway. Since it was daylight they kept silence until they cautiously stepped out into view on the road into town.   “You haveta be careful in a really small town like this,” she said.   “Not many strangers pass through, let alone become regulars.   They’ll know nobody’s moved to town and we’re suspects already.   We need to decide where to go from here.” “It’s ridiculous that towns can’t accept strangers as strangers.” “I bet you thought differently when you lived with Danielle...

  “I need you to lift some Always for me.” Terah, who couldn’t hear the word “Kotex” without blushing intense purple, simply stared.   Lindsey was obviously in a great deal of discomfort, and he’d helped her with some ibuprofen, but he’d never even been able to get feminine hygiene products for Danielle.   He’d actually insisted she buy his underwear.   Checking out at Target with some teenage girl looking at the exaggerated genitals stuffed into the cotton sheaths, but reading the word “small” on the top was too much for him.   He both wanted to say, “they sell by waist size,” and “I’m not like the models in the picture.”   Why’d they have to use real photographs anyway?   He stood in front of Lindsey with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish with bronchitis. “Me?” he stupidly asked. “Look, I can’t.   An’ if we’re tryin’ to start livin’ like normal people,” she winced as she rolled up into a ball. Terah couldn’t bear to watch.   Alt...

  It wasn’t sunrise.   They’d been walking west all night.   The light came from a small town.   Rather like a candle in an otherwise darkened cathedral, it had appeared bright in the sky because beyond it lay miles and miles of undeveloped land.   “Up there,” Lindsey pointed toward a point in the darkness that seemed “down there” to Terah, “is St. Grosseteste.”   A few security lights, pinpoints in the distance, outlined the building like a constellation made mostly of darkness.   The ghosts and demons seemed far away with the prospect of a home.   Terah wanted to throw an arm over her shoulder, but knew it was out of the question.   “You’re sure it’s abandoned?” “No.   I know the order left it a few years ago.   The building may’ve been sold—how would I have found out?   The best we can do is hope.” “Should we try to get there before sunrise?” “No point.   Let’s find a place to get a few hours’ sleep.   And we gotta...