The Plague Runner

by Burgy, P. J.

  “He said next time, he promises.” She held her hands up, placing her palms on her father’s shoulders. “He doesn’t want to cull one before he knows all the sows are pregnant. He’s just covering his bases, Dad. Give him a break.”

  “Made that man a really nice rifle,” he muttered. “And they call it Paradise over there. More like, Pair-a-lies. Pair of liars. Para-lies? You get what I’m sayin’!”

  “I do.” She grinned. “I’ll be making another run there for sure, pretty soon.”

  “You sure ‘bout that?” Renshen asked her, “What with the Brethren, I dunno if we should have a temporary hold on supply runs, for maybe a month’r so?”

  “No, no need for that.” She shook her head, taking her hands off of him and stepping back. “I told you, they were out of their territory, but only because they were called out. I don’t think it’s gonna be a problem again.”

  “Y'said they were dead, huh. You kill ‘em?” His asked, his voice lowered a bit.

  “No.” She shook her head again, taking in a breath before continuing. “Wailers got ‘em. But, I wish I had.”

  “They’d of wished anyone or anythin’ else had, if I’d been there.” He didn’t hide the bitter grit in his tone. He turned off the jukebox and it whirred down, going silent in the garage. “If I’d been there, but I wasn’t. Dammit.”

  She shifted her weight between her feet, doing her best to look cheerful. “Hey, I made it back in one piece.”

  “Dammit!” He suddenly slammed his hand down onto the jukebox, his fingers balled up into a tight fist. She almost jumped back, seeing him explode like that, a thing she rarely saw her father do. Usually he was so cool and collected, and even when he was getting agitated, he never let it break through to the surface. As punchy as Renshen Bui could get, he was a man who understood control, who had a handle on his emotions. His demeanor had shifted and he was staring at the jukebox, eyes narrowed and lips pulled back. He shook his head, breathing hard.

  She stepped toward him and leaned against his side. “I made it back. It’s okay, Dad.”

  “If I could, I’d order yah not to run,” he said. “I’d get someone else t’do it. Get that other Reed brother, Horse or whatever they call him, to get back offa his ass and onto his feet. Anyone but you, Yusha.”

  “Tommy Reed isn’t gonna run again, you know that, Dad,” she whispered to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. She felt him place a hand on top of hers and their fingers intertwined. “After Frankie never came back, Tommy ain’t gonna go back out there. You saw what it did to him.”

  “And what’ll it do to me when you don’t come back?” Renshen asked her. “What’ll it do to me? I can’t order yah t’stay, I can’t go with yah. I just gotta watch you go, and let you go. Every time. One day’ll it’ll be the last time, and how will I know? How will I know I ain’t gonna see my girl again?”

  “You won’t,” she whispered. “But how is that any different from any other day, Dad? People die. They die in the walls. They die outside the walls. They die in their own beds. No day is given. No life is promised. We all must go on living, and let go of the dead. Remember, but never dwell.”

  He sighed. “Don’t be quotin’ me, girl. You know I said that to you.”

  “That’s why I said it.”

  “Usin’ my own words ‘gainst me. I taught you all the wrong things.” He shook his head. “Guess that makes me a hypocrite, don’t it?”

  “No, it means you love me.” She gave him a squeeze and then backed away, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m going to clean up, get some lunch with Tengen. Thinking maybe we could have a family dinner tonight. It would be nice.”

  “If you can get both your brothers in one spot, sure, I’ll be there too,” Renshen told her. He walked back over to his workbench and had a seat, placing his hands on his knees and looking over the open DVD player. “Maybe you can stay a few days. I could use the help on the Bella.”

  “Gencho knows more about her than I do, Dad.”

  “Gencho ain’t sober enough. I need steady hands.”

  “Tengen then.”

  “Tengen talks too much, drives me nuts. Love the boy, but he’s a jabber jaw. Short attention span too. Like a squirrel. Quotin’ movies. Tryin’ to make jokes that don’t make no sense,” he muttered. “’Sides, you’re always complainin’ about missin’ the old rover days, aintcha? Help me fix her up an’ we’ll go for a spin, jus’ you’n’me.”

  “If you’re sure. I’ll do my best to help before my next run.”

  “Good girl.” He pulled the DVD player into his lap again. “I’ll see yah at dinner tonight.”

  “See you,” she said, and left the garage.

  There was lunch with Tengen at mid-day, and Kara listened to him prattle on and on about fort life, about the various drama and gossip, and the additional wall planning near the south end. She had known about the wall extension but let him go on since it gave her time to rest and think. It wasn’t like he would pause and ask for her opinion on anything anyway; he was doing just fine on his own and didn’t seem to mind that the food on his plate was getting colder and colder by the minute. Her hair was still damp from her shower earlier and she’d changed clothes, preferring to wear a tank and shorts now that she wasn’t out on the road.

  Their den was the third tower-house from the end on the right top spoke from the island, the house with the red roof and four ten by ten floors, each connected inside by a ladder and a cutout through the floors and ceilings. The bottom floor was the common area, though it wasn’t very roomy with the table and chairs, and three storage shelves along the walls lined with all of Tengen’s most treasured belongings stuffed into it. DVDs, VHS tapes, books, and faded little action figures were placed with the utmost care on those shelves, the media organized in genres.

  The electric lines ran through and down the walls, connecting to the big, flat TV screen Renshen had attached directly to the drywall inside. The first floor might as well been a second room for Tengen, because Kara didn’t see one thing that belonged to Gencho or herself anywhere on any shelf.

  Tengen’s twin katana blades were mounted on the wall in their sheaths, a layer of dust coating them. It was warm, but a pleasant breeze from the lake pushed the air through the open windows and out the door. Fabric hung from poles above the windows, and the front door, which could be closed and sealed, was left open with only a hanging drape to push aside. In the summer, it was the best way to stay cool. Nothing matched at all color wise, the decoration a random mish-mosh of whatever they could find or make.

  Kara and Tengen had been there for a few hours now, sitting at the chairs around the table, her plate empty save for thin bones and his still full of fish, mushrooms, and bamboo shoots. The black and white monster movie playing on the TV had finished long ago and returned to the menu screen, the DVD player blinking 12:00 on the floor below. This movie was a classic, one of Tengen’s favorites, and they'd talked right through the entire film. She had seen it many times now herself; it was easy to let the images and sound fall into the background while he went on and on and on. Their dad was right about Tengen. He did love to talk.

  It was easy to feel restless when she was in town, but it wasn’t because of Renshen, Gencho, or Tengen. It wasn’t because of the Bella gathering cobwebs in the storage shed while her father fixed old, broken appliances to pass the time, bored of his retirement but unwilling to uproot himself and drop his recently acquired mantle of Mayor. It wasn’t even because of Blue Lagoon itself, the fort town built on a lake, with her high walls just like any other fort town, or her fort town people with their daily routines living sunrise to sunrise while the world outside went on without them. The seasons would pass, year after year, and they would still be there, living in a shell and waiting to die. That was not a fate that Kara wanted to share, and it had not been the plan.

  She remembered Gencho’s words from earlier, about how things had all gone wrong. Gencho hadn’t wanted to settle in a fort
town either, had he? But, since their father had decided for them that Fort Blue Lagoon would be their new home, Gencho, ever the loyal son, had followed suit and given up the only life that made sense. They had all given it up. The rover life. Open roads. Danger and adventure. Skirmishes with the Red Brethren by day and the Infected by night. Renshen had traded their lives away and replaced it with walls and the tedious day to day melodrama of fort life. Monotony until death. Tengen had adapted quickly, as had Renshen. Kara, not so much. And Gencho, well, in his desperate attempt to conform, he had done more damage than any of them could have predicted. Like Kara, he wasn’t meant for this life.

  The way of the rover had been dying though, the fuel sources depleting and the forts growing stronger as their walls grew higher. Renshen had been one of the last of his kind, and now the Red Brethren owned the roads. Soon, their fuel would run dry and they’d find themselves locked in their forts as well.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Kara thought of Ash and the way he had looked at her, as though she were being foolish or naïve. He had given up too, just like Renshen. The both of them had grown roots, and would never again be free. And Gencho, he had tried, failed, and been left to rot in his misery. Out of all of them, Tengen was the only one that seemed truly happy.

  Tengen looked at her, head tilted expectantly. “Hm?”

  She blinked at him. “What?”

  “I asked how Ash was.” Tengen smirked. “You’re miles away.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s been a rough few days.”

  “If you wanted to get some rest, your bed is made.”

  “Nah. I’m exhausted, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t sleep a wink. I spent last night in a tree.” She forced a smile and lowered her jaw to her hands, elbows on the table as she held her head up. “I can’t sleep though. I don’t want to yet.”

  “And I’m the one they call Squirrel.” he lifted an eyebrow.

  “Don’t forget ‘Wallrat’.”

  He smiled. “I like Squirrel better.”

  “I bet you do,” she said. “Still better than what you called me.”

  “Oh, let it go.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever let go of ‘Sink Bunny’.” She pursed her lips, straightening up in her chair and folding her arms across her chest. “No, that’s a keeper in the memory bank.”

  “You looked like a little rabbit, curled up in a nest. But the nest was under a sink. Like a little bunny, you know. Like this.” He did his best to mimic a small, furry little creature, raising his hands to the sides of his face and ducking his head down, hunching over. When she continued to stare at him with her unimpressed expression, he dropped the act and shrugged. “I was eleven. Come on.”

  “I suppose you did stop calling me that pretty quick,” she stated, smiling at him again. “It didn’t take. Like when you started calling Gencho ‘Freddy’. Didn’t last too long.”

  “You don’t tell a little brat your real name, then tell him you hate it. Just a bad decision all around. His own fault, really,” he said, shrugging again. He smiled, showing teeth, and the warmth reached his eyes. “Gencho only had to shake me around once for that one. I figured it out.”

  “One shake from Gencho is usually all it took,” she mused, “Dad’d yell at yah, y’know? Give you this hard look, like he wanted to shake you around ‘til your head rolled off. Big softie. He couldn’t. Just couldn’t. Made Gencho do it.”

  They shared a laugh.

  “Gencho, go giv’im a rattle!” Tengen offered up his best version of Renshen, his voice low and gruff, squinting an eye and shaking his fist. “I’d do it, but I’m drivin’ the damn car!”

  “Go grab up yer damn sister ‘for she gets inna fight with them fort brats, Gencho!” Her impression wasn’t quite as accurate at Tengen’s, but it still elicited a laugh from him

  His laugh faded off. “Makes me miss it. Sounds weird.”

  “Miss getting shaken around?”

  “Yeah, that. Maybe. I miss those moments. Just us and the Bella. I know you do too, Kara,” he told her, eyes heavy lidded. When he smiled again, the expression seemed muted. “I miss who we were, is what I mean. Can’t go back to that.”

  “And why can’t we go back to that?” she asked, tone serious. “The Bella needs some work, but she’s still in good condition. There’s bound to be untouched gas stations out near the city. Or stashes in some ghost forts. She needs a little paint, some TLC. The turret gun still works, her engine has a few leaks but-”

  “You’d be going it alone.” He stopped her, holding a hand up, palm toward her. “You won’t get Renshen back on the road, and if he won’t go, Gencho won’t go.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m happy,” he said. “Don’t mistake my nostalgia for any secret longings, Yusha. I’m not going anywhere. I know you mean it, and you’d be back in the Bella in a heartbeat, but those days are done. The Bella is falling apart. The next time they take her out to haul scrap back she’ll probably seize up and start smoking. Dad keeps her going, but she’s on her way out. Better to just be happy with what you’ve got, you know?”

  She rolled her shoulders. “Yeah. What I’ve got.”

  “You’ve got us.” He placed his hand to his chest, brows furrowed. If he were feigning insult, he was doing it well. “You’ve got me, Dad. You’ve got Gencho, when he’s sober. Okay, you’ve got me and Dad. I’m joking. Gencho too. I’m sorry. Oh, and Ash! You’ve got Ash. Different Fort, but still, Ash.”

  “Ash isn’t about to hop in the Bella with me either.”

  “I didn’t say he would. I just said you should be happy to have him.” He pointed at her, waggling his finger. “He’s a good man. When I met him, I liked him. He’s kinda cute, if you squint, but he’s nice. And you guys are good together. His home is Pleasant Tree, and what of it? What did you think you two would do? Steal the Bella and drive around looking for food and gasoline, fighting off the Brethren and the Wailers until you ran outta gas or bullets first? Think about it.”

  “Did Dad put you up to this?”

  “No. But I see that look in your eye, and I know what it means. It means you’re mad at everyone else for not wanting to do what you wanted to do, and what you wanted to do was keep driving around and running jobs.” He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward.

  She nodded, lips parted. “Yeah, I am mad.”

  “I’d never try to talk you out of running, never,” he said. “But I will tell you that it isn’t as bad as all that. You’re my sister, always, and forever. I love you. I know you didn’t want to settle here. And I know why you’re so mad. You know why Dad did it and you blame yourself.”

  “Dad did it because he gave up.”

  He sat up. “Dad did it for us, so we could have lives. Real lives.”

  Her chest burned, her jaw tense. “We had real lives.”

  “Dammit. I didn’t mean to start a fight, Yusha, I’m sorry.” His lowered tone, along with the way he dropped his gaze down to his plate of unfinished fish, broadcasted his remorse. “That isn’t at all what I meant to do. I just wanted to watch a movie and talk to my sister. I got carried away, wanting you to see what you had here. I’m sorry.”

  Her rage dampened, she swallowed back a hard lump in her throat and watched as her brother fidgeted in his chair. His expressions ran the full gamut between sadness and nervous tension, his brown eyes meeting her hazel ones. When he tried to smile at her, she found it hard not to smile back, even just a little bit. She sighed, licking her lips, biting at the bottom one, gazing at the wall for a moment.

  “I’m sorry too,” she said. “I guess I’m just tired, not thinking. I’m not happy that Dad wanted to settle down, you’re right. I could have spent the rest of my life on the road. I told Ash that too, and I know it breaks his heart, but I’m not going to stop moving. That’s death.”

  “I won’t argue with you,” Tengen told her. “It wouldn’t help anyway. I’ll just be thankful that you stopped to visit, and
that you haven’t had any calls about a run yet. Having you around for a full week might be pretty nice, unless I get tired of you, I mean. I’ve been getting used to having the whole nest to myself lately. If you still snore, we may have a problem.”

  She snorted. “Well shoot. You’re screwed. I snore like a bear now.”

  “Poor, poor Ash.”

  “Oh, be quiet.”

  “Oh? Is that what he says to you?” he asked.

  She smirked. “Maybe I’ll shake you around a little, huh?”

  “I’d do it now, not after dinner,” he said.

  “You didn’t even eat your lunch.” She indicated at his plate.

  “I was just too excited. I’ll eat it later.” He smiled. “You think Gencho will come to dinner tonight? I know you invited him.”

  “Who knows.”

  “Well, if he does, just pray he doesn’t get into it with Dad,” he said, scratching the side of his nose and glancing around the room. “We may have to play peacekeeper again, Little Sister.”

  “I am well done with that.”

  “Well, why don’t we watch the rest of this movie, and I’ll shut up and eat?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and pulling his plate close to himself.

  “Sounds great. Especially the part where you shut up,” she said and grinned.

  “I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Kara made her way out to the square. It was still early afternoon when she trotted along the boardwalk, seeing the familiar faces of fort dwellers she had known for years but never really spent too much time with. Friendly smiles, half-hearted waves. A ‘Hello’ or a ‘Good to see you’, ‘How are you?’, ‘What’s it like out there these days?’, ‘Anything we should know about in here?’, was likely to be tossed her way as she moved through the small crowds. There was only so much room on the boardwalk between the hub and the spokes, but the square would be open and there she would find herself avoiding or deflecting many more conversations.

  People weren’t offended though; the banter wasn’t anything more than filler and they knew it. Some genuine curiosity was to be expected, but even then, those particular folks were likely to roll their eyes and pass off Kara’s rudeness as a trait most befitting of a Runner. The Runner was easily agitated, a nervous creature with little patience and even less social grace. It was fine for Kara, and it was fine for them. She excused herself as she wandered through a group of five civilians, ducking away from a ‘Hey, how are yah?’ like the wind.