Primitive

by J. F. Gonzalez

  "Did he have prior knowledge of this cabin?" I asked. The sudden fear that perhaps others had knowledge of our location suddenly worried me.

  "Not sure yet," Wesley said. "I literally have not had enough time to properly question him. This all happened ten minutes or so before you guys got back."

  "We're the first people he's come across?" Martin asked.

  "Yes."

  "Do you believe him?"

  "On that, yes, I do." Wesley regarded us. "On other things, I'm not so sure."

  "What do you mean?" Tracy asked him.

  "When I started questioning him I used the pride and ego up technique," Wesley explained. "It's one of several interrogation methods used by the military. You basically use it when the subject is already shattered emotionally. You build up their morale, say they acted like a hero, and that helps put them at ease. It gets them to open up. Alex was already scared and I wanted to put him at ease. He readily gave me some basic information: his name and age, where he lived, what he was doing the day the virus hit, what he used to do before it hit. He told me what the population of Manning was, about how it was basically deserted when he went there for food, but that he did see some bodies. When I asked him if he'd seen any primitives he told me no right away, and I capitalized on that. Told him he had remarkable wits and instincts, and that laying low was the best thing he could have done to survive. I kept it up, remarking that for one guy he had a hell of a tenacious will to survive and seek out others, that his skills at tracking were excellent. He let loose a little, and that's when he slipped up."

  Wesley leaned forward, his voice lowered. We leaned closer to get a better listen. "He said to me, 'Yeah, we just laid low and lived by our wits. Went into town, got food and supplies, came back and just waited around until today when I decided it was time to head out and see if there was anybody else.' I asked him again if he'd seen any primitives, and he said no. Then I asked if he'd seen any other people beside us, and he said no real quickly. I didn't want to tip my hand too soon, so I remarked again on how skilled he was, and was just starting to butter him up by inviting him to come in and share with us what he'd learned, when you guys came home."

  "So he's seen other people," I asked, picking up on what Wesley was insinuating right away. "He said 'we' instead of 'I'."

  "Yeah," Wesley nodded. "He only said it the one time, and he acted real casual about it after that. And like I said, I didn't want to lay into him right away about it. And besides, you guys came back."

  "So there's more than one of them," Martin said, that look of worry on his face again. "He could be part of another party like us."

  "That's what the word 'we' denotes in my book," Wesley said. He looked grim.

  "So what do we do?" Tracy asked.

  Wesley picked up the first aid kit and damp washcloth. "Let's tend to his injuries. And then I want Martin, Tracy, and David to come with me to the garage. Tracy, I want you to help me treat his wounds. Ask him if he wants something to eat. If he does, go back to the house and get it for him. David, I want you to assist and observe. I'll introduce you. Just be nice and friendly with him but don't say anything personal. I'll resume my questioning of him and get him to tell us everything he knows."

  "What about me?" Martin asked.

  "I want you to remain outside," Wesley said. "Just in case we need some muscle."

  "He's tied up," Lori said.

  "I plan to untie him," Wesley said. "Part of my interrogation technique."

  Lori raised an eyebrow.

  "Maybe I should be present, then," Martin asked.

  "No," Wesley said. "No offense, Martin, but you might come across as intimidating to him. I don't want that."

  "Something tells me you've done this kind of thing before, Mr. Smitts," Tracy said. She was looking at Wesley as if she were seeing him for the first time. "What exactly did you do in the military?"

  "That's classified," Wesley said. The way he said that was the first time I'd heard him use a tone of voice that bordered on official.

  Before the silence could get uncomfortable, I broke it. "Okay, let's do this."

  * * *

  Tracy, Wesley, Martin, and I went back to the garage. Martin remained outside while the rest of us went in. Tracy had a damp cloth and a clean towel, and I carried the first aid kit. Alex looked up at us from the corner as we entered. He was slumped against the wall, worry etching his bearded face.

  As we approached him I made out more details. His clothing was scuffed and dirty and his beard was untrimmed, as if he hadn't been able to shave for several weeks. Likewise, his long hair was tangled. As we approached him Wesley said, "Again, I'd like to apologize for what happened."

  "I'm sorry too," Tracy said. She scrunched down and gently applied the damp cloth to the side of his head. "I know Lori didn't mean to hit you so hard."

  Alex winced as Tracy gently cleaned the blood off his face. "It's okay. I probably would've done the same thing."

  "Of course you would've," Wesley said. "I mean, you'd just be trying to survive, right? I can understand why you'd want to try scoping the area out to see if anybody else was out here. Non-primitives, if you know what I mean."

  "That's a good word for them," Alex said. "Primitives. Those things are like a bunch of cave people."

  "Yeah, they are." Wesley gestured to me. "This is David."

  "Hello, Alex," I said. I set the first aid kit down on the floor near Alex's feet and opened it.

  "Hey," Alex said in greeting. He was relaxing. He watched as I started rummaging through the first aid kit. Tracy got the wound clean and I saw that it was more a nasty scrape than anything deep and ugly. The bleeding had stopped and the blood and grit had been wiped from his face. Tracy turned to me. "Got some peroxide in there?"

  "Yeah," I said. I pulled out the bottle and handed it to her and then rummaged for a bandage. "That'll probably need a big bandage."

  Wesley stood slightly behind us as Tracy and I cleaned Alex's wound with the peroxide and bandaged him up. Alex winced slightly as the peroxide was applied. "Stings," he said. "How bad is it?"

  "Not bad," Tracy said. "Just a real nasty scrape and a bruise. You'll survive."

  "You hurt anywhere else?" I asked him.

  "Not really," Alex said. "A little banged up along my left side when I was tackled."

  "Let's see." Tracy said. She reached for his shirt and pulled it up over his ribcage. With gently probing fingers, she explored Alex's ribcage. "Hurt?" she asked him.

  "A little," Alex said, wincing slightly.

  "Nothing feels broken," Tracy said. She concluded her examination and pulled his shirt back down. "It'll probably feel sore and tender for a few days and it might bruise up. You don't feel any shortness of breath?"

  "No," Alex said.

  "You hungry? I can bring you something to eat."

  "That would be great," Alex said. "I'm starving."

  "Wonderful. How about a sandwich?"

  "Sounds great."

  "Ham and turkey on rye?"

  "You got real meat? Nothing canned?" Alex looked like he'd just been offered a filet mignon at a five star restaurant.

  "That's what the lady said," Wesley said. "We got ourselves a nice generator here and are able to power a freezer. Guy that lived here had plenty of frozen meat. We've been thawing it out gradually, got about another month or so left before we're going to have to start hunting."

  "That would be great," Alex said. "With mustard and mayo if you got that?"

  "I've got that." Tracy stood up, boxed up first aid kit and washcloths in hand. "You want American or Swiss cheese?"

  "Swiss!" Alex looked ravenous, as if he hadn't had a good meal in weeks. He probably hadn't.

  "Coming right up." Tracy exited the garage. "I'll bring you something to drink, too. Ice tea? Water?"

  "Water would be great," Alex said.

  "Okay."

  Tracy exited the garage and closed the side door behind her.

  Wesley and I tur
ned to Alex, who looked visibly more relaxed. "How you feeling?" Wesley asked him.

  "Okay. Hungry now. I haven't had much to eat in the past few days."

  "And you're not hurt anywhere else?"

  "No." Alex shifted position a little bit on the floor. "Just a little uncomfortable. This rope is kinda burning my wrists."

  "What a dummy I am," Wesley said, dropping down to one knee. "Let me untie you. What was I thinking?"

  I stood at sentry duty as Wesley untied the bonds from Alex's wrists. "Again, I'm real sorry for everything. It's just...well, you know, with everything that's happened we have to be careful. Know what I mean?"

  "Oh, yeah, I know what you mean." With his wrists free, Alex began rubbing them with his fingers. He visibly relaxed even more as Wesley untied the bonds that held his ankles together. With his wrists unbound I could now see that Alex's arms were skinny; he had a sinewy muscular structure, like a young Iggy Pop.

  When Alex was untied, Wesley helped him to a standing position. He was a short guy, about five foot four, and probably weighed all of 125 pounds. He shifted from foot to foot, shaking out the kinks in his limbs. "So have you seen other people?" I asked.

  "No," Alex said casually. "When everything hit, I was at home. I worked as a driver for Mills Fleet and Farm and caught the news just before I left for work that day. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I just..." He looked from Wesley to myself. "...kinda stayed at home and tried calling my family to see if they were okay, but I couldn't get through to anybody."

  "And you didn't go into town at all that day?" Wesley asked.

  "No way. I was too scared."

  "Did you catch any local news stations that day?" I asked.

  "Yeah, KFBW News. That's out of Billings. They were saying that whatever was happening...it wasn't just confined to big cities, that rural communities were affected, too. That's why I stayed inside."

  "But you eventually did go to town, right?" Wesley asked.

  "Oh yeah," Alex said. He was opening up now, relaxing around us. "It was...shit," He ran his hand through his hair. "It was...it was fucking sad, man. There were bodies just lying in the street. Looked like something out of a western movie, like the aftermath of a shootout at the OK Corral. Manning was a ghost town. I could see some of the dead were, you know...primitives. Others were just...people that were killed by them." His face screwed up into a look of distaste. "It looked like some of them were eaten."

  "Yeah, we've seen a lot of that," Wesley said. "On our way up here we saw a bunch of them huddled over a dead body just tearing into it. It was like watching a zombie movie. Night of the Living Dead or something."

  "Yeah, but different," I chimed in. "Instead of zombies, we were watching wild people."

  "That's what they are, aren't they?" Alex said. He was looking at us in a wide-eyed expression that bordered on fear and worry. "Is it true what they said on the news? That something made everybody turn into wild animals?"

  "That's what it appears like," Wesley said. "We've seen them. We've had to kill dozens of them."

  "No shit?" For the first time since I laid eyes on him, he appeared nervous.

  "You haven't seen any of them?" Wesley asked.

  "No," Alex said. Did he respond a little too quickly? I couldn't tell, but it sure felt like it to me. "I haven't seen any of these wild people, or normal people for that matter. Well, except for you guys."

  "Well, like I said earlier, you did pretty damn well for yourself," Wesley said. "I honestly don't know how you did it."

  "Thanks," Alex said, relaxing again. "It hasn't been easy, let me tell you."

  "What have you been doing up there in Manning?" I asked.

  "Just trying to stay away from these primitives," Alex said. "Trying to survive. I haven't been able to sleep much. I get maybe four or five hours and spend a lot of time on the porch with my Winchester, just standing guard. You know?"

  Wesley and I nodded.

  "During the day I sort of check out the area I live in, about a quarter mile perimeter. I live in a little house about a mile outside of Manning. And I just do that to make sure nobody else is coming near my property. The rest of the time I try the TV and radio, but I get nothing. My electricity is still on for some reason, but all the stations are off the air."

  "You start thinking about winter?" Wesley asked. Despite the laid back atmosphere that Wesley had worked hard (yet subtly) to create, Alex had made no move to venture beyond the area he was standing. "From what I remember, winter is pretty harsh in these parts."

  "I haven't thought about it yet," Alex said. "We've just been trying to survive day to day. It's hard enough just trying to get food."

  I frowned, and Wesley jumped on this small window of opportunity right away. "So there are others than yourself?"

  "Huh?" Alex asked.

  "You just said 'we've just been trying to survive'. Is it more than just you at this house outside of Manning?"

  For a brief second the slip-up registered on Alex's face in a quick succession of emotions: horror, surprise, then his gaze shifted to the left slightly, then back to us. "I mean, I've been trying to survive. It's just me. Sorry. Slip of the tongue.

  "Oh," Wesley said. And then, as smooth as can be, Wesley changed the subject. "What does Manning have in the way of supplies?"

  Alex seemed to lighten up at this question. "All kinds of stuff. I've got a shitload of fresh bottled water, a lot of canned goods, and a lot of weapons, mostly rifles. And ammunition."

  "Really?" Wesley's eyebrow rose up. "That's good to hear. There's a gun store in Manning?"

  "Nah, I got it from a guy's house. My wife and I, we were members of the Emergency Response Team in Manning, and some of those guys had a local militia. One of them kept a bunch of shit in his house."

  "Emergency Response Team?" I asked.

  "Yeah." Alex shrugged. "You know...kinda like a volunteer fire department."

  "Ah." I nodded, pretending I understood. I'd never lived in a rural community before in my life and could only vaguely grasp what he was talking about.

  "But they obviously do more than put out fires?" Wesley asked.

  "Well, yeah," Alex explained. "We organized safety standards, emergency response standards with the county in the event of a chemical spill or a weather disaster, and we kept a huge stock of emergency supplies, everything from blankets to first aid stuff and medicine. We kept all that stuff at the fire station. That was the first place we went to when we got into town."

  "We?" Wesley's tone of voice and body language made it clear that he'd caught that slip up.

  "Shit!" Alex said, sighing in exasperation. Once again, that shift of the eyes from left to right. "I meant 'I' again, not 'we'."

  "You sure?" Wesley asked. He took a single step toward Alex. He stood before him, hands on his hips, his gaze directed at the smaller man. For the first time since meeting him, Wesley looked intimidating. "This is like the second or third time you've said 'we' and the way you say it tells me you're talking about you and other people."

  "Really, I just meant myself," Alex said. His voice actually cracked a little. There was no doubt in my mind now that Alex was lying about something. I could see it in his face, in his eyes; they had that deer-in-the-headlights quality about them.

  The door to the garage opened and Tracy stepped in. "I've got your sandwich and water on the front porch. Come on out."

  Wesley held a hand up, still facing Alex. "We're going to hold off on Alex's lunch for a moment, Tracy."

  "Okay." Tracy didn't miss a beat; she stepped back outside and closed the door.

  "Now level with me, Alex," Wesley said. He was in no way intimidating or putting forth a threatening air, but I could feel the tension in the garage rise. "I don't think you're being entirely truthful with us. Who are you talking about when you say 'we'?"

  "Nobody," Alex said quickly. "Really, it was just a slip of the tongue—"

  "A slip of the tongue because you weren't thinking about it
. Which means you're referring to more than one person. You and another party, which could be one, two, maybe a dozen or more people. Level with us, Alex. How many people are in your party? You've seen my party, and you know we're just trying to make ends meet over here and survive. We could all benefit in this by teaming up together, don't you think?"

  "Okay, look, I'm sorry if I misled you," Alex said. He was nervous and his speech was fast, as if he were rushing to get to the truth. "I don't have a party like you, it's just me and my wife. That's all."