Zombie Apocalypse (pt8)

Irish sighed, pinching the end of her nose. “Right, of course. But why are you telling me this? If not just to cause me undue anxiety while it’s going on.”

“If Heherson is doing this, I thought it would be important to know why. As you two used to be going out, I thought I’d ask if you had any ideas. It’s not something just any necromancer up and does, after all. Messing around with spirits, raising the occasional singular dead, sure. An entire apocalypse worth? Why would anyone do that?”

“Super villain status?” Irish suggested.

“That’s so old school.”

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I don’t know, Tim. I can’t think of why he’d do something like this. Are you sure it’s him?”

“There are two necromancers in Saltdale’s registry. I mean, I could be doing it, but if that’s the case than I really need to be throwing myself a bone here, because that would make me a brain dead master caster here.”

The truth in belief

“The World works in mysterious ways. Bad things happen for a reason.”

She grit her teeth. Her hands were paler than usual, clasped together in the same position as those in front of her, behind her, at her sides. It was the moment of silence, where prayer sounded from the pits into the heavens above.

Bad things happened for a reason. They were all determining the reason now, through prayer.

God, is this an excuse? she asked. The question she had never been able to raise before. This is their excuse for bad things to happen. Pretending there is a reason.

She needed no words in response. Instead, she felt the right inside of her. Whether it came from her God or from herself, she had no idea. After this moment of silence, everything would return to normal. One less good thing in the world. One more bad one. Accepted, for a reason.

No, there are no excuses.

She raised her voice.