Zoe looked at Seth. He nodded.

As she reached over to grab the box Seth noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a holstered revolver lying on the floor, still attached to the dead SS trooper’s belt.

Stratton took the box from Zoe, who sat down on the floor after handing it to him. It was heavy, at least thirty or forty pounds.

Stratton backed away from them until he was a good twenty feet away, close enough for them to be at point-blank range, but far enough so they could not rush him.

“Now turn off your flashlights and throw them over to me.” They complied. Stratton gathered the lights and put them in a pile at his feet.

“Walk over to them, Father,” Stratton said, indicating Seth and Zoe. “And sit down next to them.”

Morgen walked over to where Seth and Zoe sat. He looked at Seth who, with a nod of his head, motioned for the priest to sit down.

“I—” Stratton cleared his throat. “I wish things didn’t have to come to this,” he said as he set his flashlight on the floor of the chamber and pointed it at the trio. He unburdened himself of his pack looking down briefly as he did. Seth moved slightly toward the trooper’s gun.

“But what we are dealing with is an awesome spiritual matter that affects the souls of millions.” Stratton spoke as he knelt beside the pack and with one hand unbuckled its straps. “A handful of lives—mine included—matter little when balanced against that.” He opened the top flap of the pack, and with his free hand began to unload its contents: first-aid supplies, a blanket, canned water, dehydrated food, a small butane stove with a cover that doubled as a pot.

“But isn’t the truth more important?” Morgen asked, his voice steady as it can be only in a man who was long done fearing death. “Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.”

“Truth? I am not sure what the truth is or even whether it matters anymore,” Stratton responded, his voice growing in pitch as he spoke. “I know that believing in a creed, in a certain steadfast faith, matters to a lot of people and it would be terrible to deprive them of that comfort just so we could give the world another exciting spiritual equivocation.”

Seth inched closer to the holster and grabbed it by the narrow end. He began to pull it toward him. Seth was amazed at how easy it was. He had somehow imagined that the uniform full of bones would be heavy, as if there should be weight in death.

Morgen opened his mouth to speak, but Stratton angrily waved the gun at him.

“Don’t, Father!” Stratton said. “Let’s not delay the inevitable. I can’t just leave you here to starve to death like the rest of these miserable souls.” He paused to swing his arm in a broad arc to take in the skeletons in the chamber.