Lost Souls-Chapter

Get to the church.

The thought propelled him up the slope, urging him onward.

Keith stumbled. His body pitched forward and his feet skidded sideways, shooting a spray of loose soil into a draft of wind. He pawed at a ledge, searching for a handhold.

Bloodied fingers tore into the earth like a pickaxe. His hands quickly coiled around an outcrop of wild grass, the plant’s firmly bedded roots as reassuring as a length of strong rope.

Keith threw his weight against the mountain and hugged its broad stability to his outstretched limbs.

The sound of church bells resonated across the valley with a frenzied clang that matched the frantic thump of his heartbeat.

Get to the church.

He heaved a gulp of air into his lungs and shoved one hand in front of the other, wedging his fingers into the gaps between scattered slabs of toppled stone, grasping at patches of matted weeds, as he hauled himself inch by inch up the slope.

It’d seemed such a simple task, a stipulation easy to achieve. He should have known the only freebie Celestial Getaways offered in their no frills, no perks, vacation package was a final, demoralizing catch.

From a distance the height of the hill had been deceptive. An effortless climb and a swift jog across open ground and he was home free. Finished. His obligation fulfilled.

It was only after he began his ascent that Keith discovered the hill had magically abracadabra-ed itself into a cragged peak, its breeze battered facade crusted with crumbled ridges and wind grooved crevices.

His watch began to beep, the repetitious blips and flashing red lights pulsed in sync with the stoke of the bells. Sundown.

He tilted his head back and watched as the sun ebbed lower, slowly sinking behind a tree-lined horizon and a rapidly gathering swell of black clouds.

Get to the church.

You can still make it.

Try was not an option. It was a shit chute engraved with his soul’s name, plunged straight down into damnation if he failed.

The summit loomed above. Close, so very close.

Keith scrambled upward. Determined. His arms and legs moved in rhythmic unison, without thought, without pause. The hurried grab and release thrust of his hands and scuffle of his feet dislodged chunks of earth and kicked up a spindrift that clung to the air in a dusty mist around his head.

He hauled a leg up and over the lip of the last ledge and clawed his way onto the top of a flat plateau.

A white church sat perched upon the precipice of a ridge, overlooking a field of wildflowers. Its wooden doors were parted, begging him to cross over the soul redeeming threshold.

The blinding, bright light streamed through the stained glass windows faded fast with the wan of sunlight. The clang of the bells drifted further apart, with full stops rested between the peeled chimes, echoing the last drawn out breaths of a dying man.

Get to the church.

Keith pushed himself to his feet, and ran.