by R A Doty
The clunking of the key against the metal lock was deafening when it echoed through his world of silence. Light flooded the room, and Thomas scurried to a corner and shielded his eyes. He squinted at the figure of a man walking toward him. Was the man really there, or was his mind playing tricks on him? He scratched at his arm.
“A frightened little mouse,” Nicolas said. “That’s what you look like, Thomas. A frightened little mouse.” Nicolas knelt down in front of Steinberg. “Are you ready to leave your cage, little mouse?”
Thomas had given up hope of ever leaving the confines of his personal prison, and along with it—all of his desires and memories. He could barely remember his name and how he got there. He glanced at Nicolas and lowered his head, repeating the act again and again—like a dog expecting to be punished for urinating on the carpet.
Nicolas stood and nodded to the two men who accompanied him. The men walked over to Thomas, pulled him to his feet, and led him to the door.
Nicolas followed. “Now’s your chance to decide if you want to provide food to earn your keep around here, Thomas” he said. He snickered. “Or perhaps you would rather become food.”
The men yanked Thomas down a long, dark hallway to a chapel where David Crullen was waiting. Nicolas stepped aside as David walked up to Thomas Steinberg.
He doesn’t look like the type of man that could provide food, David thought, studying Steinberg’s face. In fact, he doesn’t look like much of anything at all. He eyed Steinberg’s rail-thin body from head to toe. He wouldn’t even make a descent meal for the congregation. He stepped as close to Steinberg as his sense of smell would allow. “Nicolas said you know where there’s food. What kind of food and how much?”
The sound of a human voice put a smile on Thomas’ face. The things that used to be important to him didn’t much matter anymore. He now savored the simple things in life, like being able to carry on a conversation with a complete stranger, even if the stranger was a deranged lunatic.
“Did I say something amusing?” David said.
Thomas shook his head. “It’s just that I haven’t spoken to anyone for so long. To answer your question, yes I do know where there’s food, and plenty of it. I have a ranch on the outskirts of town, and it’s loaded with wild and domesticated animals, not to mention my crops and garden.”
David studied Thomas. Maybe he judged him wrong. “And how did you obtain all of these animals and food when the rest of the world starves?”
A wide grin formed on Steinberg’s face—the grin of a man on the brink of insanity. “Because I knew it was coming.” He nodded, edging closer to Crullen. “Every time I tried to warn somebody, they just ignored me as if I were one of those guys standing on the corner holding a sign that read The End is Near.”
“Weren’t you, though?”
“Not in the way they thought. I’m not some religious nut that thinks this is God’s doing.”
David raised his head, clearly taking offense.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Steinberg said, remembering he was surrounding by religious freaks.
“Then tell me, Thomas. What way did you mean it?”
Thomas licked his lips, his tongue greedily scraping from one corner of his mouth to the other. He could still taste the blood from his fingers. He hated himself for liking it. “I meant that this has nothing to do with God. This is from man’s ignorance to go on living as if nothing’s wrong and that all of our sustainable resources will be there forever. An endless supply of whatever we need with no end in sight. That attitude is what caused global starvation and the end of modern civilization as we know it.”
David analyzed Thomas, his hand under his chin; his eyes trying to unmask every hidden secret that Thomas held behind his gaunt face and hopeful eyes. “Let’s assume, for the sake of argument, that I believe you and follow you to this Shangri-La. What then? And why did you leave if there is such an abundance of food?”
“Why, you and your followers could stay there forever. With proper rationing the livestock would replenish itself and last for decades, if not longer. I left by no choice of mine. Two men that worked for me exiled me and my son, and kept my wife.” Thomas lowered his head. “I can only imagine what un-Godly things they may be doing to her at this very moment.”
“Will they not defend what they now own?”
“They’ll probably try, but your numbers are obviously much greater than theirs. Trust me, the reward will be worth the fight.”
David nodded. He walked closer to Thomas, his face just inches away. “We will accompany you to this place, Thomas, but know this: if what you say is true, and this place does indeed exist, we will stop at nothing and kill whomever stands in our way to win such rewards.” He backed away. “Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Chapter Nineteen
THE EARTH DUG EASILY, a combination of saltwater-soaked loam and sand, as Stevie pushed the pointed shovel into the ground with his heel. Blisters formed on his palms, and beads of sweat covered his face. He tried not to look at his mother, who sobbed at the top of the rectangular shaped hole with her hand over her mouth.
Josh stood next to Elana, occasionally sneaking glances at Samuel’s blanket-covered body, which lay on the ground beside the hole.
“You want me to do some, honey?” Elana asked her son.
Stevie shook his head. “No, Ma. I’m almost finished, anyway.” After tossing a few more shovelfuls of dirt out of the hole, he carefully smoothed the bottom with the back of the shovel.
Elana hugged her son when he climbed back to the surface. “Thank you, honey.” She wiped tears from her eyes, now ready to lay her husband to rest.
Stevie nodded. “Why don’t you go in the house now, Ma. I can finish.” He glared at Josh. “And take him with you.”
“I will do no such thing, Steven. We’re here to bury your father and my husband, and I’m staying until we’re finished. Now grab his legs.”
Stevie grabbed his father’s ankles, and Elana wedged her hands under her husband’s armpits. Josh bent down to help.
“Don’t touch him!” Stevie yelled.
Josh pulled back.
“Stevie, honey,” Elana said, “I told you it wasn’t his fault.”
“We wouldn’t be burying Dad right now if they never showed up.”
“No, but if he never showed up you’d probably be burying me and your sister along with your father.”
Josh turned and walked toward the house, where the face of a small girl was peeking out from the window. Behind him he heard a hollow thump, followed by a woman’s cries as the rising tide crashed against the rocky shoreline. He wondered if his mother was crying at that exact moment back home.
STEVIE SAT IN THE CHAIR later that evening, while Josh and Elana sat on opposite ends of the sofa. With her thumb in her mouth, his sister, Jessie, cuddled up close to their mother and rested her head on her stomach.
Elana stared blankly at the wall, unconsciously rubbing her hand across her daughter’s hair. The odds of them surviving when her husband was alive were slim at best, and now that he was gone she assumed it would only be a matter of time before their lives would soon come to an end, as well. She wondered how it would happen: at the hands of another stranger passing by, sickness or disease, starvation, and then she thought of the coming winter and how un-prepared they were. Yes, they would more than likely either starve or freeze to death long before the upcoming winter’s snow had melted back into the ocean the following spring.
She turned and looked at the young boy sitting on the end of the sofa. Not only was she somehow expected to keep her children alive without a husband; she was also responsible for the life of this child. What choice did she have, though? Could she send him back out into the world by himself? Without a mother or father? He’d be dead in a week. Everyone has a story to tell, and as she stared at him she wondered what tragedies he had already endured.
“Josh,” she said, capturing the boy’s attention. She stared
at his dirt-covered face and noticed that he somehow looked more like a man trapped in a small boy’s body. “What happened to your parents?”
Josh slowly lowered his head toward the floor. He refused to cry, and he had to be strong if he was ever to see his mother again. A lump formed in his throat, so he forced it deep down into his body where the old Josh was still chasing chickens around the meadows and waiting for his mother to call him in for dinner. This Josh had to die and the only way that could happen was for him to forget about everything and everyone that he had ever loved. He started to talk, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “My parents died.” He tried to be strong, but the old Josh made one final appearance as tears welled in his eyes. He placed his face in his cupped hands and began to cry.
“Come ‘ere, honey,” Elana said, her arm extended. Josh scooted next to her, and she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. With her daughter under one arm, and a terrified young boy under the other, she turned toward her son, who nodded understandably.
THE SUN ROSE THE FOLLOWING morning as it did the previous day, and the day before that. Life continued and so did the Thorpes. There would always be time to grieve, but it couldn’t get in the way of what needed to be done.
Winter was on its way, and Steven had no choice but to take the place of his father. Firewood had to be collected, more fish had to be caught, and he could use all the help he could get. He charged into one of the bedrooms where Josh was curled under the blankets. “Wake up,” he said, kicking the bed.
Josh pulled his eyes open. He raised his head and stared at the white dresser with an oval mirror hanging on the wall above it. His dresser was a natural wood color and had no mirror. Did he fall asleep in his parent’s bedroom? Was it all a dream? The sound of Steven’s voice refreshed his memory.
“Come on, get up. We got a lot of work to do today.”
Josh slowly pulled off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed.
“Come on. Let’s go,” Steven said, his voice more demanding. “I’ll be waiting in the kitchen, and don’t go back to sleep.”
Josh slipped on his pants, which lie on the floor next to the bed, and put on his socks and shoes. When he got to the kitchen, the scent of fried fish hit his nose.
Elana stood in front of the stove, poking at a cast iron frying pan with a spatula. She glanced at Josh as he trudged into the kitchen. “Eat some berries, Josh, until the fish is done.” A bowl of black caps sat in the middle of the table.
Josh sat down, grabbed a handful of the berries, and immediately shoved three into his mouth. From the corner of his eye he noticed Steven staring at him.
“You ever fish?” Steven asked.
Josh nodded. “My dad taught me.”
Steven grabbed one of the berries from the bowl and ate it. “You any good?”
“Pretty good.”
“We’ll see about that.”
AFTER EATING BREAKFAST, Steven grabbed he and his father’s spears and led Josh to the beach. He handed Josh his spear, and he kept his father’s. “Show me,” he said.
Josh removed his tee shirt and waded into the water with the spear held over his head. When the water level reached his waist, he jumped up and dived under.
After three minutes had passed, Steven began to worry. He waded into the ocean with his face just inches from the surface, trying to find Josh. He turned around quick when he heard a loud splash.
Josh sprang from the water with a small shark flopping angrily on the end of his spear. He tried to hold the fish in the air, but it was too heavy and his spear kept dipping into the ocean. Steven raced over to help bring it to shore. Breathing heavily, Josh stared down at his catch, which was now flopping around the sand after freeing itself from the spear.
Steven ran to the shoreline and grabbed a large rock. When he got back to the shark, he slammed it on top of its head. After picking up the rock and slamming it back down two more times, the fish stopped moving. He tapped Josh on the back while trying to catch his breath. “I guess you weren’t kiddin’. I ain’t never seen a fish this big.”
Josh smiled.
“You know anything about firewood?” Steven asked.
“A little,” Josh said. He picked up his spear and dived back into the ocean. Four minutes passed, and he didn’t surface.
Chapter Twenty
STEVEN PACED BACK AND forth along the beach, searching for Josh. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled as loud as he could. “Josh! Come on. We don’t need anymore fish right now.” The water was calm except for a few bubbles rising to the surface. Steven yelled again. “Josh!”
The screen door slammed, and Elana ran from the house. “What’s going on, Stevie?”
“Josh went under and he’s not coming up. Josh!” Steven yelled again, and then charged to the water and dived under.
From under the water, Josh seemed to be in a state of suspended animation when Steven reached him. His body was halfway to the surface, eyes closed, and his arms extended upward. A thick black rope dangled from his ankle to the ocean floor. Steven tugged at the rope, and then surfaced for air.
Elana ran down the path and to the beach. She kicked off her sandals and waded into the water just as Stevie surfaced. “Did you find him?”
“Yeah.” Steven dived again and headed right for the rope. He worked swiftly at the knot until it broke free. When he surfaced, his mother rushed over and helped him drag Josh to the beach.
Elana immediately began CPR and continued until she was out of breath. She lowered her head, gasping for air. She continued again until she could barely breathe herself. “Stevie do some,” she said, turning toward her son. “Come on, I’ll show you how.”
Steven bent over Josh’s body and watched as his mother demonstrated the procedure. “Nice steady breaths,” Elana said. “Now you go.”
With his fingers pinching Josh’s nose, Steven exhaled into the boy’s mouth. Josh’s chest rose and sank. He did it again, and again.
Elana pressed on Josh’s chest in a steady, even rhythm. “That’s it, Stevie. Keep going.” When Josh coughed she quickly pushed him on his side. “That’s it, honey, take a deep breath! You can do it!”
Josh coughed again and pulled hard to get air into his lungs. He rolled onto his back when he began to breathe steadily. He looked at Steven, who was inches away from his face. “Were your lips touching mine?”
Steven smiled with a nod.
Josh wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That is so gross.”
Elana placed her hand under Josh’s head and gave him a hug. The thought of him dying pushed her to an emotional limit, and she began to cry. She can’t be expected to take care of herself and three others, two of them children, without Samuel. It was too much to ask of one person.
“Mom,” Steven said, touching his mother’s shoulder. “He’s gonna be all right.”
Elana nodded and then raised her head. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she stared at Josh through red, puffy eyes. “I know.” She kissed Josh on the forehead, and helped him to his feet. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just been so hard lately.”
“Come ‘ere,” Steven said to his mother. Standing about six inches taller than she, he bent down and gave her a hug.
Elana squeezed him tight, fighting the urge to cry again.
“We’re gonna be all right, Ma,” Stevie said. “I promise.”
At that moment, Elana no longer thought of her son as a boy. She felt comforted and thought, maybe, just maybe, her son was right. They would be all right.
JOSH FELT EXHAUSTED. Every muscle in his body ached as he lay on the couch staring down at the floor where Samuel’s body had lain just days earlier. Samuel was a pleasant man, and he wondered if that was why he died. “You can’t be weak nowadays, Josh,” he remembered his father saying. “Compassion is mankind’s greatest weakness. The way the world is today, only the strong survive. Remember that, son.”
Only the strong survive. The words repeated in Josh’s head. It was a simple logic, he thought, so why do so many people disregard it? If Samuel had never felt compassion for he and Gabriel he would more than likely still be alive. If Gabriel hadn’t saved him from the beast of a dog then he, too, would more than likely still be alive. The more he thought about it, the more his father’s logic made sense. It even applied to him. If he hadn’t felt sorry for the woman at the fence, he wouldn’t have come so close to being killed, and she would more than likely still be alive. He felt good learning this.
He wasn’t as close to his father as he was to his mother, but he did respect him. His father was strict and never paid much attention to him, but he assumed that was because he was too busy. Yes, that was it. He was too busy. A breeze snuck into the cottage and pushed the door open, the hinges creaking until it rested against the wall. Josh stared at the door, remembering the time when he was sick in bed and his father came into his bedroom. The hinges on his bedroom door made the same sound, and when he rolled over he stared up at his father, who pressed his hand on his forehead to see if he had a temperature. His father smiled, a way of trying to comfort him, but never said a word. He didn’t have to. It was enough and all that Josh needed. He wondered if the man he never got a chance to know was still alive, and if he’d ever see him again.
Chapter Twenty-One
THOMAS STEINBERG STOOD in front of the church with a group of twenty men and women standing behind him on the steps. His clothes were damp and soiled, his eyes sullen, and his hands shook slightly. Ten men held machetes, four had axes, and six woman gripped long hardwood sticks. To his right stood Nicolas with a twelve-inch Bowie knife hanging from his belt, and to his left stood David Crullen, who carried no weapon.
David stepped forward and faced the crowd. “May I have your attention, please.” Everyone silenced and faced him. “Some of you may have heard rumors of where we’re going and some may not have, so allow me to enlighten you.” He turned to Steinberg. “Will you join me, Thomas?” Thomas Steinberg walked up to David and faced the crowd. David put his hand on his shoulder. “This man knows of a place that is abundant with food, and he is willing to take us to it.”