Charil

Perhaps Helen had overdone it a little.
The church had in no way returned to its former glory, but the sudden injection of life went a long way toward brightening the spirit of the place. At the very least it wasn't the three of them anymore, sitting around moping and feeling sorry for themselves. The place was by no means happier, but the newcomers, most of them simply thankful for a safe shelter over their heads and a place to get food. But food was increasingly scarce, and more mouths to feed meant more ventures out into the depths of hell to scrounge up more. They couldn't keep waiting on supply drops. Couldn't put their lives into the government's hands. Two and a half years without any suggestion of salvation had dulled his willingness to trust in the outside forces.
At the very least, more bodies meant more work got done. Okay, so it wasn't all Helen's doing -- he'd inducted quite a few of the newcomers himself.
The temptation to stay inside, away from the monsters and the impen