Fear: The Quiet Apocalypse

by T M Edwards

  As if we shared some sort of telepathic connection, Sam also found his way into the room a few moments later, and walked over to me, then lowered himself to the floor next to my chair.

  “How are you feeling?”

  He shrugged. “I’m okay.” He showed me his arm, which no longer looked so red and angry. “Dr. Haroun just checked it. See, getting better.”

  Zena looked up at us and blinked, as if she’d just noticed we were in the room with her. Had to give the girl credit for her concentration skills. “Oh, hello. Did you hear anything from Dalen yet, when we’re going back out?”

  “No, sorry.”

  She shrugged and went back to her work. Sam leaned his head against the side of my chair. “I don’t like him,” he remarked.

  “Who?”

  “Dalen.”

  Across the room, Zena snorted. “That’s because he’s a sociopath.”

  “What do you mean?” Sam asked.

  “I mean he’s a sociopath. He’s like a robot. He doesn’t care about people, he just likes to play God.”

  I exchanged a glance with Sam, who looked as uncomfortable as I was with the bold declaration. Sam was the one who spoke next. “He took over 200 people in. He didn’t have to do that. He could have let everyone die. I don’t like him, but it seems like he’s done a good thing here.”

  Zena set down her scrub brush on a small table next to the tank, and lifted her goggles to sit on top of her braids. “Look. Nobody believes me. I don’t really care. You haven’t been here as long as I have. One time he caught a girl my age stealing shower tokens. Do you know what he did?”

  Sam shook his head.

  “I was there when she did it. I told her not to, but she ignored me. Then Dalen comes in and he sees her. He dragged her out into the common area, and he held up this knife and claimed he caught her in the process of sneaking up behind the laundry woman and stabbing her. He said hurting others was unacceptable. Then he had her thrown out.” She pulled her gloves off rather violently, and slapped them down on the table. “I stood by the door and I listened to her until she went crazy and killed herself bashing her head on the concrete. Then Dalen came up behind me and he grabbed my arm and he told me that if I ever told anyone, I’d get it worse. Then he made me wash the concrete where she got blood over it.” Zena shuddered, and closed her eyes. “He knows I hate blood.”

  I didn’t want to accept Zena’s story. The girl wasn’t always the most perceptive. Maybe she’d just missed the knife. Yes, that was probably it. She often missed things and was in her own little world. The tokens had probably been a cover for the intended stabbing. But Dalen...was it possible? How was it possible? Why would he take all of us in if he really was just a cold sociopath? He certainly seemed to care more about efficiency than us as people. But to kill a girl over stealing shower tokens? That was far, far worse than anything I’d seen from him.

  I looked down at Sam, who also looked unconvinced. Zena decided to pretend we weren’t there after that, and went back to concentrating on her work and ignoring us. The silence now felt awkward, rather than comforting. I had a cold knot in the pit of my stomach as I tried to decide whether to believe Zena’s story, or bury my head in the sand.

  Day 52

  It was just after midnight, according to the wall clock that someone had hung by a string from the pole that ran along the apex of the tent. I was still wide awake, with sleep nowhere in sight. I threw my blanket over my face, and tried to block out the sounds of more than two dozen other people’s steady breathing. Someone in the middle of the tent was snoring. I’d already heard at least one fart...and let’s just say that there weren’t many places for that air to escape in this tent.

  The bunk above me creaked, and I pulled the blanket down to see Sam’s face looking at me over the edge of his bed. “Can’t sleep either?” he whispered, to which I shook my head. He sighed, and his head disappeared. The bunk shuddered for a second as he moved around then he dropped silently to the floor, with his blanket in his arms.

  “Where are you going?” I hissed at him when I saw that he was putting on his boots.

  He ignored me, or didn’t hear, and strode quickly out of the tent with his blanket folded over his arms. I sighed in annoyance and copied him, though I didn’t bother to put my shoes on. I grabbed my cane and my own blanket, and followed as quietly as I could.

  By the time I reached the common area, Sam was halfway across it. The space was dark, except for the moonlight which shone through the skylights, and one lonely oil lamp that burned on the buffet table.

  I threw the blanket over my shoulder and hobbled as quickly as I could manage in the direction of Sam’s retreating back. He reached the exit door, and I heard the click as it opened. He kicked the stop down, as if he knew I would be following him, and then disappeared up the ramp.

  By the time I was finally able to make it to the top and reach the door that led outside, I was winded and my arm was sore. I pushed the door open and searched for Sam. He was sitting with his back propped against the wall. The metal that sheltered the landing at the top of the ramp was domed in the back and vertical and corrugated on the front.

  Sam was wrapped in his blanket, and his head was tilted back as he gazed up at the sky. I awkwardly lowered myself down to the concrete next to him while trying not to bump my ankle. Our shoulders touched as I let my own head fall back so that I could see what he saw.

  “It’s cold,” I remarked, when the breeze picked up and seemed like it was blowing straight through my blanket.

  “I know. It will be winter soon. Even the desert gets cold at some point.”

  I turned my head to look at him. “Have you been out here before? You know, before all of this stuff happened.”

  He nodded, and lowered his head to look out across the desert instead. “I had a posting in Nevada for a few months.”

  “I can’t even imagine.”

  “Can’t imagine what?”

  I shrugged. “You know, being in the military. Knowing you could die.”

  Sam chuckled. “I was young and stupid. I thought I was invincible. All I thought about were the adventures. I made it through about two weeks of Basic before I realized how dumb I was.”

  “How long was Basic?”

  “Ten weeks. So that was two more months of just trying to keep my head down and not get myself kicked out.”

  “Wow.”

  Sam grinned at my reaction, but then sobered. “There were people who tried to kill themselves, Deidre. Can you imagine? These were young, idealistic people with recruiters that played up all the benefits and conveniently ignored the dangers. It wasn’t until they owned us that some were forced to face the truth. So some tried to kill themselves, either legitimately, or simply to get themselves kicked out.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Yeah. And there were worse things, too. One night, in school after Basic was done, I caught someone assaulting a girl in one of the bathrooms. Last I heard, she’s in some long-term inpatient facility somewhere, and he’s stationed in Iraq.”

  I felt like yet another part of my world was coming unraveled. “But...he was the one at fault!”

  Sam nodded. “He claimed she only screamed because she heard someone coming. And their correspondence before that night supported his story. All I know is that I saw real fear in that girl’s eyes when I walked into that bathroom.” He had drawn his knees up, and his hands were clenched into fists on top of them.

  “Is that why you have the nightmares?”

  Sam took a deep breath. “No.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

  “Sorry.”

  He laughed incredulously and looked at me. “Why are you sorry? You’re the only person who’s ever heard that story. Deidre, most of the world judges me. I should be stronger than this. Others saw things way worse than I did. I am a soldier, and I should be able to handle the sights and sounds of war.”

  “So havin
g a heart is a bad thing?”

  “In war, yes, it often is.” I couldn’t help thinking about Dalen and the story Zena had told us.

  I sighed as I watched two tumbleweeds chase each other across the ground in the dim moonlight. “At least you have reasons to be weak.”

  He turned to me, and lifted my chin up so that I had to meet his eyes. “You are not weak. You did what most of the population could not. You survived. You have already been braver than most.”

  “Lack of fear is not bravery, Sam. The spores don’t affect us. That doesn’t make us brave.”

  His bright blue eyes were so close to mine, and staring so intently at me. The half-inch of beard he now bore made him look rough and untamed. “You still left your home and were determined to walk across the entire country if that is what it took to save humanity. Deidre, I think that makes you pretty damned courageous.”

  The intensity of his praise, and the emotion in his eyes, made me want to cry. “I don’t feel brave,” I whispered.

  His hand cupped my cheek for a split second before he reached around me and pulled me onto his lap. We sat there beneath the Nevada sky, as we had once huddled together in that storm in the tent. “Then we will both have to be brave for each other,” his voice rumbled through the top of my head as he tucked it beneath his chin.

  ***

  A couple of panicked people bursting through the door found us that way after the sun had risen, Sam asleep with his head leaning back against the wall, and me still in his arms. Apparently they’d thought two of their saviors had run off or been abducted. We sheepishly returned to the bunker, where I got a lecture from Dr. Haroun on the inconvenience we’d caused. A weekly shower token was taken from each of us, so that the two who had found us could go wash the spores off of their skin.

  All in all, that day did not start out well, and the morning was the highlight.

  Around noon, we were all told to gather in the common area. I left my spot in the hydroponics room where I’d been hiding out with Zena, and followed her to where everyone else was gathered around the tables. At the head of the crowd stood Dalen, immaculate as always in his suit. He stuck out painfully against the rest of us in our gray clothing.

  Just as I limped into place at the back of the gathering, Dalen began to speak.

  “Fellow survivors,” he called, try not looking like some filthy rich CEO next time you try to identify yourself with the rest of us. “It has come to my attention that one of our main water tanks has begun to leak, and nearly half of our water reserve is gone.” shocked murmurs spread through the group, as the atmosphere quickly changed from expectant to a sense of thinly-suppressed panic. Dalen raised his hands to try and quiet everyone. “Even with our recyclers, we will not have enough potable water to last us more than a month, at best. I am working with our esteemed engineers and scientists,” he gestured at a small group that stood somewhat apart from the rest of us, “to find a solution to this problem. In the meantime, I would like each of you to consider whether you are willing to assist in repair of the tank, or to drive to town and search for more water. I understand that this will not be easy. Of course, Ms. Scott and Mr. Harrison are our most valuable players at this point, but they will need help. Anyone who agrees to accompany them will be outfitted as best as we can offer, to protect them. Please come speak to me if you are willing to help. There is no need to panic just yet. If we all work together, we will soon solve this crisis. Thank you, those of you who were working may return to your jobs now.”

  “Whoa,” Zena commented, as a now-tense crowd started to disperse. “First of all, I’m glad I now mean nothing to anybody,”

  “Hey!” I cut across her. “That isn’t true. Don’t say that.”

  Zena was still wearing her protective gear from the hydroponic room, and she lifted the goggles so that they sat on top of her hair. “He didn’t even mention me. Now that he’s got you two, I’m just the annoying kid.” Her eyes were spitting fire as she stared at Dalen, who was speaking to a woman with long brown hair.

  I grabbed her arm so she would look at me. “Then go tell him you’re going with us. I’ll vouch for you, and I know Sam will, too.”

  “Sam will do what?” I turned to see Sam walking up next to us.

  “Tell Dalen we need Zena with us.”

  “Oh.” Sam nodded emphatically. “Yes, of course I will. I’m not sure how the two of us are supposed to handle whatever whimpering puddles any of these other people are going to turn into out there.”

  I fixed him with a look and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t oversell it.”

  He grinned, and patted Zena on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. We won’t leave you behind.”

  Zena folded her rubber-glove-covered arms over her apron. “Great. Except Dalen is the boss here, not either of you.”

  I shrugged. “So? What’s he going to do, chase you across the desert? Don’t forget, we’re the ones with the advantage here.”

  Somewhat placated, Zena agreed to ask Dalen if she could come with us, on the promise that we would sneak her out if he said “no.”

  Day 53

  After a night of very little sleep for either Sam or myself, we all loaded into a cargo van that someone had driven up onto the concrete pad by the door. We had enough food and water for a day. That was the most that Dalen would let us be gone. I felt completely crazy when the thought crossed my mind that maybe I’d actually get some sleep, away from all the people.

  Just as the sun began to crest the horizon, we were in motion. The van rumbled down the gravel road, headed toward Vegas. Zena had been allowed to come, and we were also accompanied by Alan and the woman with the long brown hair I’d seen talking to Dalen the day before. Both were outfitted with big respirator masks that made them look like something out of a zombie movie. Each also wore a plastic poncho, and windbreaker pants over their regular ones, as well as rubber gloves that went to their elbows. I guessed the theory was to prevent the spores from reaching their skin as much as possible. Sam drove, and Zena sat in the front with him, while me and the other two found the most comfortable places that we could create among the gear on the floor.

  As the van lurched onto a paved road that would take us into the city, I was realizing why those who had helped us had been so insistent on not using the air conditioning. They had repeated it multiple times, citing the fact that it used extra fuel and brought in more spores. I’d thought was a bit strange that this needed to be stressed so much, since the morning was plenty cool. But after about ten minutes, poor Alan and the other woman were already sweating under all of their extra clothing.

  “Do you think it’s much longer?” The woman asked from under her mask.

  I shrugged. She shifted in place. Even behind the mask, she already looked on edge. I wracked my brain to try to think of ways to help her keep calm. Maybe if I just kept her talking, and her mind didn’t have as much of a chance to start spinning in paranoid circles…well, it worked for me. Sometimes.

  “I don’t think I caught your name, earlier.”

  She bobbed her head. “Anna.”

  “Anna. That’s nice!” Even to myself, I sounded incredibly fake. “Are you from around here?”

  “No.”

  I waited for a moment, but she didn’t volunteer any additional information. Alan was just staring out of the back windows at the clouds.

  “So...how long have you been in the bunker?”

  “About six weeks.”

  Again, I waited, but to no avail. After a few more questions, to which she gave one word answers, and with Alan seemingly oblivious to the fact that there were other people around him, I gave up. I leaned back against the wall of the van and closed my eyes.

  The plan was to start with grocery stores. We were looking for bottled water of any size, or any kind of stored water that we could transport and purify. People had been assigned short shifts to work on the tank, which was leaking in several spots. I seemed to be the only one that wondered how this had ha
ppened, so I tried to assume that I was just ignorant of how water tanks worked, and kept my mouth closed. I couldn’t shake the picture of Dalen that Zena had painted for us, or the worry that maybe it hadn’t actually been an accident. The only reason I wasn’t convinced it was him, was because his obsession with efficiency would have made it very out of character for him to sabotage the tanks. Whether he was a humanitarian or a sociopath who just needed people to worship him, it didn’t make sense to kill us all off.