IMPACT (Book 1): A Post-Apocalyptic Tale Read Online Free PDF Page B

arthritis, here. We’re talking about being dead .”
    Catherine surprised herself. She hadn’t meant to be quite so aggressive, especially towards a little old lady, bigoted as she may be.
    The older woman considered her words for a moment, amidst the general silence. Unexpectedly, she turned towards Paul.
    “Father Paul, you know I’m a Christian, and although I don’t attend your services as much as I’d like, I believe in the word of the Lord.”
    Paul nodded, somewhat embarrassed.
    “So,” she continued, “please don’t take offence at what I’m about to say…” She then hesitated, and turned back towards Catherine.
    “The thing is, Cathy dear, if they are indeed dying, why are we wasting medicine on them?”
    They all fell silent.
    The thing was, Catherine thought, it was easy to see Ms. Brand’s point. And almost too easy to agree with her. But easy didn’t mean fair. Resources were scarce, not only when it came to medicine, and it was natural for people to want to safeguard their own, first. But what irritated her was the fact she was pretty certain that Ms. Brand hadn’t reached that conclusion after reflecting on their current situation. Rather, she was probably one of those who had always regarded immigrants as pests and nuisances.
    Catherine drew a breath, and was about to talk, when Paul spoke. “Perhaps it would help,” he began, as eyes shifted towards him, “if we considered what would happen, were we to stop caring for them.”
    Catherine was curious. Despite all the thought she’d given to the matter, she had never seriously considered not providing assistance to the ‘wraiths and the sick from abroad.
    “It appears that, somehow, people are somewhat aware of our… shall we call it ‘privileged’ condition?” Paul spoke with a soft, measured voice. “No doubt also thanks to the efforts of this Council, Bately has coped with the aftermath of the impact in a far better way than most other places. Both here, and abroad, it seems.”
    He grew nervous as the others listened. These were very delicate issues, and he had to tread lightly.
    “It is understandable that the less fortunate would set out to reach the few islands of relative tranquillity, such as ours, that remain. Now, if we turned them away, if we denied them the little cures and medicine we have at our disposal, would they just go elsewhere? Perhaps, yes. But I suspect some might refuse to simply leave. Over time, they’d grow bitter, and might team up with other sick and desperate souls arriving from the continent, and take with force what we refused to provide out of kindness. They would not only be a threat to our resources – as you perhaps see it, Ms. Brand – but also a threat to our safety.”
    “Do you mean, Father, we should keep giving them what is ours for fear of reprisals?” asked Bill. He was visibly irritated. “In any case, that’s what the Guard is for. For protecting us. And if that means shooting gangs of violent meteorwraiths, home-grown or otherwise, that’s what we’ll do.”
    “No, Bill,” intervened Catherine. “It’s not about that. It’s about providing a service to those in need.”
    “Please, Major,” said Paul. “Don’t misunderstand us. The Guard, under your lead, has had to make tough decisions, and has always protected us wisely and bravely. But rather than having to confront scattered groups of vagrants and ‘wraiths, we’d have a growing number of embittered, desperate souls to deal with. And these souls never set out to come and harm us, as others do. They just want our help.”
    Bill rubbed his chin, then squared his shoulders. He was often uncomfortable when involved in a debate. But, unlike Ms. Brand, he didn’t seem to consider the migrants a threat in themselves, but rather a danger for their resources. Which, Catherine had to admit to herself, was undeniable.
    “Well,” said the former soldier drily. “I’m happy to comply with whatever decision the Council