Ration

by Christina J Thompson

  “I don’t understand why,” he answered. “What’s the point of life if no one ever knows you?”

  “I know you.”

  “No, you don’t. You only know what you see, and it’s the same for me with you.”

  “That’s enough, though. We don’t need any more than that.”

  Even as she spoke the words, she knew they weren’t true. That’s what loneliness was born of, and she hated it.

  “It’s not enough, not for me,” John said quietly. He drew a deep breath. “You know what I want more than anything?”

  Amber sighed.

  “What?”

  “Someone I can be honest with.”

  Honest.

  The word almost sounded foreign to her. There was no such thing as honesty, not in a world that put survival above everything else. For a moment, she imagined what it would be like to open up to him, to tell him how empty and lonely and hopeless she felt, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t just out of fear of being reported, either, it was him. The ration was different, knowing that it couldn’t understand her made it easy to allow herself to be vulnerable, but not with John. She could never do the same with John.

  Amber could feel him holding his breath, waiting, and she swallowed hard. She couldn’t give him the answer he wanted.

  “I hope you can find someone like that, John,” she finally managed to say. “Maybe someday.”

  He let out a heavy breath, then quickly moved to stand.

  “I should go home,” he said. “You’re right, our ration is probably cold.”

  He turned to leave, and guilt stung her heart at how crestfallen he looked.

  “You can come by tomorrow if you want,” Amber called after him, and he glanced back at her.

  “You said you’d prefer being alone,” John replied, his voice tinged with bitterness. “I wouldn’t want to suffocate you.”

  “Good night, then,” she said, walking towards the door of her house, but he didn’t answer. She watched him disappear down the darkened alleys that led into the settlement, cursing under her breath as she picked up her light and went inside. Thinking that he would help her feel better had been foolish. Instead, now she felt even worse.

  The ration had already changed, and it was sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting for her. It stood up the moment it saw her, its teeth chattering between its blue-tinged lips as it held her sleep clothes out to her, and she rolled her eyes in frustration. She reached out, shoving the ration down on the bed before snatching hold of the blanket and throwing it over its shivering form.

  Her clothes had fallen to the floor, and she bent down to grab them just as the ration leaned forward to do the same. Her fingers brushed against its hand, and she looked up, its face mere inches away from hers. She jerked her hand back.

  “Lie down!” Amber hissed, gesturing angrily.

  The ration did was it was told, rolling over to face away from her while she changed, and she slipped in beside it a few moments later. She could feel it shivering as it lay next to her, and her anger faded in an instant, the guilt she had been feeling all week coming back with a renewed vengeance. Despite her frustration over her feelings, her behavior had been uncalled for. The ration didn’t know any better, and being cruel to it served no purpose.

  Amber clenched her teeth, steeling her nerves as she pressed herself closer to the ration to warm it. Its body was tense, but the moment she touched it, it seemed to relax. Her throat closed up at its reaction, a sudden thought occurring to her. It may just be food, but surely that didn’t necessarily mean it was completely devoid of feelings. Even the animals the books spoke of had feelings, after all, at least of some kind. Perhaps this creature was no different.

  She could see the ration’s eyes gazing at her, and she cringed, quickly rolling over.

  “Stop, Amber,” she whispered to herself, trying to force her mind to be quiet.

  †‡†

  CHAPTER TEN

  At dawn, Amber was awakened by loud voices coming from the main room of the house. She blinked in the early-morning light, straining her ears as she listened. It sounded like the council from the commanding tone she could hear, and she jumped out of bed, pushing the ration out of the way as she ran to her bedroom door.

  Her parents were standing in the middle of the room, grave looks on their faces, and sure enough, two council members were there.

  “What’s going on?” Amber asked, fear racing up her spine. The council never visited anyone without a reason, and from what she had seen, those reasons were never good.

  “Is that all?” Richard asked, ignoring her question as he glanced at the council. The two women nodded, and Mica sighed.

  “I just need to get my son ready,” she said, turning towards her room. “We’ll be there immediately.”

  The council walked out without another word, and Richard glanced at Amber.

  “We all need to gather in the settlement,” he said, his voice hushed. “Something happened last night.”

  “Are we in trouble?” Amber gasped, her eyes wide, and her father shook his head.

  “Marius Dickson’s wife died yesterday afternoon. She was taken to the graveyard at dusk, and the council just told me…”

  He paused, swallowing hard as if he felt sick.

  “Marius sneaked out in the night and harvested part of her body.”

  Amber clasped her hands to her mouth, her stomach turning. Her throat began to burn, and her mouth watered as the sour taste of bile rose up on her tongue.

  “He…he ate her?”

  Richard nodded, glancing up as Mica walked out of their room. She was cradling Alex in her arms, and her face looked pale despite the dark tan that colored her skin.

  “The council will deal with this very harshly,” she gulped. “This hasn’t happened in years, certainly not in your lifetime, and they’ll want to prove a point.”

  “You mean it’s happened before?”

  Mica frowned as she stepped towards the door.

  “It’s been a very long time, Amber, almost thirty years. I was still a child, barely eleven years old, and it wasn’t at this settlement. As far as I know, it’s never happened here.”

  “Until now,” Richard breathed, shaking his head in disgust. “We need to go, there’s no time to change. Get the ration.”

  Amber managed a nod, quickly darting into her room. The ration was sitting on the edge of her bed; it held her work clothes out to her, but she knocked them from its hands and grabbed its arm.

  “Let’s go,” she whispered, pulling it to its feet.

  Her mind reeled as she followed her parents into the settlement, joining the crowd of shocked, tired faces that were already gathered there. She let out a quiet cry as they approached the harvest station; Grace Dickson’s naked body lay sprawled out on one of the tables, her arms and legs stripped clean of flesh, and it was all Amber could do to keep from vomiting at the sight.

  She had seen ration bones so many times in the past, but never the bones of a person. They looked yellow in the light of the rising sun, stained from the bits of meat that still clung to them, and she forced herself to look away as the council called for silence.

  “A horrific crime has been committed in our settlement,” Council Murphy began. “In my lifetime, I have only ever seen this level of inhumanity occur one other time.”

  His voice boomed out over the hushed crowd, echoing in the stillness as if the severity of the situation was somehow amplifying its volume.

  “The thought that anyone could desecrate the body of a loved one is more than many of us could ever imagine, but Marius Dickson has committed that very violation. Not only did he cut his wife’s body apart, but he was found in his home just two short hours ago consuming her remains.”

  Council Murphy pointed at one of the other tables, and now Amber noticed the pieces of meat strewn across its surface.

  He paused, his eyes narrow
ing as he studied each face that stared up at him.

  “This is the flesh of his wife, the woman he lived with for ten years. This was a person, the human being that bore him two children, and he took a knife to her while the settlement slept. He was not starving, his children weren’t starving. Marius Dickson has a pantry that is still full from his last ration’s harvest.”

  “Our ration is underweight!” Marius cried out, his eyes filled with panic. “It’s not guaranteed, I didn’t have a choice! We weren’t going to have enough food next cycle, I had to do something!”

  One of the other council members hit him in the stomach, and he doubled over, throwing up. The people closest to him gasped in horror before turning and doing the same, dry heaving at the sight of the bright red bits of chewed flesh that he had vomited.

  “She was dead!” Marius choked out, moaning in pain. “She would have wanted me to, it’s no different than the rations!”

  He was struck again, and this time, he collapsed to his knees. A cloth was tied over his mouth, and Council Murphy shook his head.

  “The rations are cattle,” he said, his lip curling in disgust. “There is no comparison between the body of a human and the body of an animal. The death of our natural resources was the worst possible tragedy the world has ever seen, but humanity managed to remain civilized throughout all of it. We survived without sacrificing our values, yet one amongst us has chosen to defy nature and turn to the most reprehensible act that exists under heaven. For that, he will be punished.”

  He reached behind him, gently guiding Marius’ son out from where he had been hiding. The boy was only nine years old, and he was cradling his two-year-old brother in his arms. Amber could tell that the boy’s teeth were tightly clenched, but other than that, he had perfected the stoic, uncaring look that was expected of everyone over the age of eight.

  “Stephen Dunlap!” Council Murphy called, and a man stepped out of the crowd. “You and your wife’s request for permission to have a child has been approved as of this morning. You have been assigned Marius’ children, and you will receive his ration in compensation. For the next two cycles, you will be given double rations from the resource center and your quota will be waived.”

  Richard inhaled sharply, his eyes instantly burning with jealousy at the sight of the excitement that filled Stephen Dunlap’s face.

  “Lucky bastard!” he breathed, shaking his head as Council Murphy went on.

  “Marius Dickson will be placed in holding, where he will be deprived of food and water until he is dead. Council, if this is, indeed, your decision, raise your hands.”

  Every one of them raised their hands in unison, and he turned, gesturing to the crowd.

  “You will all bear witness to this. There will be no work until the sentence is complete, all will remain within the confines of the settlement. Ignoring this order will result in the same punishment he is receiving. You are dismissed.”

  Amber glanced at her father in confusion.

  “Why do we have to stay here?”

  Richard frowned, cursing under his breath.

  “It’s going to take at least three days for him to die,” he muttered. “That’s three days of lost work because of that bastard.”

  “But why do we have to stay? Why can’t we work?”

  “This is the same punishment I saw as a child,” Mica answered, her voice filled with dread. “The process is painful, and the council wants everyone to see it. Or rather, hear it.”

  “Hear it?”

  Richard cursed again, ignoring Amber’s bewilderment.

  “If I thought I could get away with it, I’d kill him myself just to finish him off faster.”

  “Hush, Richard!” Mica hissed, her eyes flashing, and he scoffed.

  “I know for a fact that I’m not the only one thinking it. I need to get my allotment and talk to a few people, I’ll be back later.”

  He stepped towards the taps, his shoulders sagging as he walked away, and Amber sighed. She glanced at the ration; it was holding its flask in its hand, and she reached into her pocket to retrieve her own as she slowly moved to follow her father.

  The line for the taps was completely silent as people filled their flasks, and Amber could feel the tension that hung over the entire settlement. The dead, mangled body was left on the harvest table, and when John stepped to her side, she gave him a pained look.

  “Why don’t they move her?” Amber whispered. “They shouldn’t just leave her there!”

  “I asked my father the same question,” John replied, leaning close. “He said they probably won’t take her back to the graveyard until after Marius is dead, they want to make sure everyone here has to look at her.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, clenching his teeth.

  “Because they don’t want anyone doing the same thing he did.”

  Amber shuddered, quickly filling the flasks and stepping out of line. John joined her a moment later, sighing as he leaned against the wall of the building they were standing next to.

  “Hard to believe someone could do something like this,” he said. “Her body doesn’t even look like a person’s anymore.”

  “I’ve never seen anything that horrible,” Amber breathed, and John frowned.

  “I have, once.”

  Her eyes widened, and he took a breath, glancing around cautiously before continuing.

  “I had to help carry my grandfather to the graveyard, and someone else had died the day before. The dust hadn’t covered him up yet, and by the time I got there, the body had split open from the heat. I had nightmares for weeks.”

  She inhaled sharply, but not because of what he had recounted.

  “Shhhhh!” she warned. “You know better than to talk about that! People will think you were traumatized or something!”

  John met her gaze, his eyes boring holes into hers.

  “You’re the only person I’ve ever told.”

  “Keep it that way,” she hissed, shaking her head. “And don’t tell me any more, you know better!”

  “I trust you,” he said. “I know you won’t―”

  “You don’t know!” Amber interrupted. “You’re acting like an idiot, John, what the hell is wrong with you all of the sudden?”

  His face fell, and he glanced away.

  “I…I was just thinking―”

  “No, you’re not thinking,” she snapped, spinning on her heel. “You’re being foolish, and I don’t want to see you make a mistake you can’t take back.”

  Amber grabbed the ration’s arm and moved to the food allotment line, doing her best to ignore the dead woman’s body as she waited. When she was done, she hurried back home, finding her mother playing with Alex in the dirt.

  “Don’t forget your supplements,” Mica called as she ducked into her room. Amber made a face, refusing to answer as she quickly portioned out the daily doses. She grabbed her book and sent the ration to the corner of the main room.

  The hours dragged by, but before long, it was finally dark. Amber stood up and stretched, making her way inside. She had just finished changing when a desperate scream echoed out in the night, and fear raced up her spine as she bolted to her parents’ room.

  “Mom!”

  “Go to bed, Amber.”

  “Did you hear it? What was that?”

  There was a long pause, then she heard her mother sigh.

  “That was Marius, Amber. That’s what I meant when I explained why we have to stay inside the settlement. You need to try to ignore it and get some sleep, good night.”

  Goosebumps scattered over Amber’s skin as the scream rang out again, and she cringed as she walked back into her room. She climbed into bed, her hair standing on end with each cry she heard. Despite how far their house was from the center of the settlement, the wind seemed to carry the sound right to her ears, and she covered her head with the blanket as she begged herself to fall asleep. He sounded like he was
in agony.

  She focused on her heartbeat, hoping it would drown out the man’s wails, but nothing seemed to help. Tears stung her eyes, and she held her breath, clenching her teeth as she trembled. She had never heard anything like it before in her life, and it seemed to grate at every nerve in her body.

  “Stop, stop, stop,” she breathed, rocking herself back and forth as she clutched her head in her hands.

  The ration stirred beside her, its breathing deep from slumber, and it tossed its arm across her face as it rolled over. She reached up, preparing to move it away, when her eyes grew wide. Its arm lay on the side of her head, right on top of her ear, and relief filled her heart. Unlike her small hands, the weight of its flesh blocked out the noise.

  She swallowed hard as she closed her eyes. She could hear the ration’s blood pulsing through its skin, and she focused on the sound as it lulled her to sleep.

  †‡†

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Marius died two days later, and it seemed like the entire settlement breathed a collective sigh of relief. His body was thrown into the waste pits, unworthy of burial like normal members of the settlement, while his wife’s sun-blackened remains were finally carried back to the graveyard. Amber was just glad the whole thing was finally over, and she did her best to put it out of her mind. It wasn’t difficult to do now that everyone was permitted to go back to work, and as she focused on sorting yet another pile of dirt, she cursed under her breath.

  Nothing.

  They hadn’t found any new salt in weeks, and she knew it had started weighing on her father. At this rate, they wouldn’t even have enough to preserve the harvest when the time came, much less fill their quota.

  “Richard!” a voice called, and Amber looked up to see their neighbor, Brent, jump down into the pit. “We need your help, the well’s plugged again.”

  The well was located a short distance away from the cistern, its water pumped up with a solar-powered pump every day and deposited into the makeshift holding tank. Plastic pipes carried the water to the cistern, pipes that clogged with rocks and thick sediment every once in a while.