Lenny slipped into Sanctuary for the last part of service, catching the last hymns and closing thoughts of Mother Mercy, the leader of Sanctuary.
He'd had to clean himself up a bit before heading back in, wiping away blood and spraying some industrial cleaning products on himself. Unsurprisingly, his bleeding hand stung a little from the process and he began to wonder if it had really been necessary, and what terrible luck had caused him to be attacked by both a rat and spirit beast in only a few hours. He could empathise with the rat at least; it was just trying to feed itself. That didn't mean he wouldn't bash its brains in if it tried to bite him again, but he could understand its perspective. The spirit beasts, on the other hand, were just vicious, causing so much pain and suffering.
His dark thoughts were broken as the congregation around him stood up preparing to leave. Those with favours to ask would queue for the blessings of the Madonnas. Their attendance curried favour with the women and so it was that the services were, if not full, certainly never empty either. He backed up against a wall, making way for those leaving.
Marcus stood at the front with a dull pewter collection plate and a solemn expression on his face. He'd had a few dozen credits donated throughout the service, but this last part would always substantially increase their takings.
An older gentleman with a bulbous red nose put ten credits on the plate. His skin and even the whites of his eyes looked faintly yellow.
"What ails you?" Mother Charity asked.
"I have a pain in my upper stomach."
She placed her hand on his stomach and concentrated for a few moments.
"You have cirrhosis of the liver… do you drink?"
"Every now and then."
"The Bible says: do not drink wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit."
"Oh, it's the spirits that's the problem."
Mother Charity smirked, but Mother Mercy scowled at her in response.
"You have not come to service before?"
"No," he replied.
"Are you generous of spirit?"
"I'd like to think so."
Marcus coughed, slightly shifting the collection plate.
The old man looked at it for a moment before understanding.
"I'm sorry, it's all I have." He looked a little embarrassed.
Mother Charity placed her hand on his stomach. Soon, a warm feeling was felt, and the pain began to subside.
"You are not cured. But that should buy you some time. You will need several treatments, but I can promise that you will be free of it. Please, as a sign of a respect, we would appreciate if you continued attending our services in the meantime. If you can't make Sunday Service, there's an evening one on Wednesdays too."
"Thank you, thank you," he said, bowing slightly.
"Next!" said Marcus.
A young woman came forward, clutching a crying baby in her arms. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she held the child tight to her chest. The baby had an emaciated face and blotches covering its head.
*
At the end of the service, the Sanctuary kids gathered in the backroom. Being a Sunday, they wouldn't get all their usual chores, and the atmosphere was more relaxed. Marcus had been given some credits for their food shop too, but as usual, he waited for Rose to finish her lessons before talking about such things.
Still, one of the younger ones kept talking about all the foods they should buy with the money. He was clearly hungry and a little excited and had not yet had sufficient time to get used to the provisions the Sanctuary afforded. At first, they had felt sorry for him, but now it was beginning to get on everyone's nerves.
"Chocolate snowballs, they're my favourite. Absolutely love 'em. We should get some of them. Yeah. Oh, and bananas. I like bananas."
Lenny stared at him, wanting to say something, but not willing to be cruel.
"You don't get it yet, do you?" said Michael with a grim smile. "We're not buying chocolate, we're not buying fruit, we're getting bread, butter and as much nutrient paste as we can afford. If we're lucky, we'll get enough to pay for some soap."
Alfie began to cry. He'd only lost his parents recently and the damn beasts had killed his sister too. Lenny felt a pang of guilt for his harsh thoughts before. He thought about the precious blade tucked away in his sock.
"Just leave him alone," said Rose, entering. She looked a little tired.
"Yes. Of course, Mother," said Michael.
A few of the other kids sniggered.
While her position was respected within the group, there were those that were jealous too. While others only hoped for adoption by one of the minor clans, Rose was being taught a powerful healing ability. Sure, the Madonnas weren't exactly a faction, none of them being active hunters, but they were still respected like one. Hunters needed healing too, and even if they didn't, their leader had developed a reputation for herself that did not warrant provoking.
Lenny wanted to retort to Michael's mockery, but then Marcus stepped forward and emptied his pockets. Everyone crowded round. Even Michael, who tried to seem uninterested, kept glancing across.
"How much?" asked Rose, her voice calm and even.
"Forty credits," said Marcus.
It was not a lot of money. Not when feeding eleven people for half a week.
Rose frowned, then put her hand in her pockets and pulled out another ten credits.
"Where'd you get that?" asked Marcus.
"I healed someone in my lesson today. Mother Mercy gave me this from his donation."
Lenny, understanding how much the weapon hidden on his person was worth felt a pang of guilt. However, there was some value in being selfish on this occasion. He and Rose would usually fetch the food. Or used to anyway. Recently, they'd taken to going in a larger group, after they had been mugged a couple of times. Overpowered and outnumbered—what had he been able to do, other than take a beating? He hated that feeling, being powerless.
"I'd like to see them try again," he thought to himself.
Now he had a spirit weapon, and an ability. Sure, it wasn't a combat one, kind of a strange one come to think of it, but it was one that could come in handy. Especially when his military service began. Maybe afterwards, he could join one of the clans, using his ability to become a forger or something? He thought that would be safe and pay a modest salary. Sure, Lenny had always been a survivor, but comfort, now that was something else.
"What are you smiling about?" asked Rose, breaking his revery.
"Oh, nothing," said Lenny. "Come on, let's get some food."