by Tony Urban
Wim nodded.
“Bastards.” She grabbed a dish towel from the counter and handed it to him.
Wim used it to wring some of the moisture from his hair and dry his face. “Brought it on myself.”
Emory didn’t like that. Didn’t like seeing Wim behave like a cowed dog. He’d changed so much in the last five months that Emory sometimes wondered if whatever force inside of him that had been holding everything together had finally broken.
“You did no such thing. You saved a life today. That’s to be commended.”
“Let’s wait and see if he lives or not before you go patting me on the back. Might be all I did was delay the inevitable.”
“You tried though. You tried Wim. And that’s what matters.”
Wim wrinkled his nose and, for a brief moment, Emory thought he was going to say he made a mistake. That he no longer wanted to be the hero. Instead he looked toward the stove.
“Something’s burning.”
Amidst his daydreams Emory had forgotten all about the beefaroni. He rushed to the stove to shut off the burner, as much as an 84-year-old man could rush, anyway.
Wisps of smoke drifted up from the pan and he saw the edges of the food were charred blacker than his own skin. “Oh, shit!”
Emory then heard a sound that almost made his old heart burst. Laughter. Wim’s laughter. Emory couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard it and when he turned around, pot in hand, he saw a broad smile across Wim’s tired, face.
“What do you find so amusing? I’ve ruined our dinner.”
“I do believe that’s the first time I’ve heard you cuss”
It was Emory’s turn to smile. “Well, Wim, what can I say? There are occasions when ’sugar’ or ‘shoot’ just won’t do.”
“I reckon that’s true.” Wim peered into the pot. “What was it?”
“Beefaroni.”
“Aw, heck, you can’t ruin that. The burned parts might actually be an improvement.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Mina said as she took a seat at their cramped kitchenette table. She grabbed a spoon and began dishing the charred food onto mismatched plates. “So, are you gonna tell us what happened out there today or do we have to wait for the town hall meeting? I’d rather hear your version.”
Wim twirled a fork between his index and middle fingers. Emory looked down at his own meal and took a reluctant bite. Mina was right, this was far worse than spaghetti o’s.
“I’ll tell you. I’d say it might spoil your appetite but…”
Emory saw Wim’s eyes flash and his heart gave another happy flutter. Wim might be bent but he wasn’t broken. Not yet. Not ever, if Emory could do anything about it. And he knew what needed to be done. He needed to get all of them out of the Ark.
Chapter Eight
It was quiet on the Ark at night. There wasn’t an official curfew, but most turned off their solar powered lights at dusk to save energy and, with sun setting before 5pm, many residents went to sleep early due to boredom. But Ramey had always been a night owl and found it hard to adjust, even after almost six months.
She lived in a five-room log cabin with her father, but he was usually in the lab, trying to find a cure to what everyone referred to as ‘the zombie virus.’ But when she used that phrase around him, he was quick to point out that the virus itself was not a zombie and that viruses were technically neither alive nor dead, that they were far more complex biochemical mechanisms than man. He prattled on but Ramey lost interest in short order. She always admired her father, but when he talked about his work and research his voice became that of the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons.
The trailer court, and despite what her father and the others in charge of the Ark claimed, that’s exactly what it was, was located a quarter mile from the main dwellings. She rarely went there, partly because it reminded her of her old home and her drug addled mother, but maybe even more so because seeing it in person made it hard not to believe Wim and Emory’s claims that they weren’t really welcome here.
Her father insisted that the encampment was temporary. A place for the new arrivals to live until they fully acclimated to life on the Ark. It was also meant to allow the originals to get to know and trust them. But after all this time, Ramey doubted such trust would ever be found. Especially after a day like today.
The silence bordered on being eerie and the only thing that made the walk tolerable was knowing that she was safe. There weren’t any wild animals lurking in the shadows. No creepers hiding behind buildings. And no zombies. That was the best part. No zombies wanting to eat her. That one simple fact made any doubts or questions she had about the Ark and the people who helped her father run it, fall far down the ladder of concern.
When the trailers came into view she was surprised to see a dim glow near Wim’s Airstream. It came and went in a red flare and she initially thought it might be a lightning bug. The on and off flicker came again and then the smell of smoke hit her nostrils. Not tobacco smoke though. Marijuana.
Ramey considered spinning on her heels and heading back to the cabin, but before she could, a voice called out softly through the night.
“Ramey?”
She knew Emory’s voice immediately, even though she rarely saw him these days. The raspy, but kind tenor was impossible to mistake and she continued until she found him sitting on a plastic crate outside the trailer.
“I see you’ve found an interesting way to burn the midnight oil.”
Emory gave his soft chuckle. “Why, it’s not even nine p.m.” He extended the half-smoked joint in her direction. “Care to partake?”
The last time Ramey had smoked pot she ended up in the back of Bobby Mack’s car, losing her virginity. She knew she was in no danger around Emory, but the memory still made her forearms prickle with goosebumps. Besides, an important conversation needed to be had and she wanted a clear head.
“No thank you.”
“As you wish,” Emory took another drag, then pressed the cigarette against the silver metal siding of the Airstream. It gave a short hissing sizzle as the dew snuffed out the fire. “How have you been, Ramey?”
“Good. I like it here.”
“You do?”
This wasn’t a discussion she cared to have. She knew Emory wanted out of the Ark and there was no changing his mind. But he wasn’t changing hers either.
“It’s safe here. And after the things I saw - we saw - out there, the people we lost, I like being safe again.”
Emory considered that and gave a slight nod. She sensed he had more to say, and was relieved when he didn’t pursue the matter.
“That’s a perfectly reasonable viewpoint. I know Mina feels the same.” He slowly rose to his feet and Ramey heard the joints in his knees pop like snapping twigs. “I assume you’re here for Wim.”
“I am.”
“He’ll be asleep most likely. As soon as his head touches the pillow he’s dead to the world. But I’ll fetch him for you,”
“I’d appreciate that. Thank you, Emory,”
As he started up the metal steps the Airstream Ramey couldn’t resist one more question. “Can I ask you where you got the pot?”
Emory looked over his shoulder and she could see the moonlight reflecting off his vaguely yellow teeth, “I’m sorry, Ramey, but considering the company you keep, I believe I’ll keep that to myself.” He lifted his fingers to his lips and made a locking gesture before disappearing into the trailer.
The notion of an old man smoking pot and not wanting to reveal his dealer was so silly that Ramey wanted to smile, but she couldn’t because she realized what it meant. Emory thought she had chosen a side. A side that wasn’t his and he no longer trusted her. It made her throat tighten up, which prevented any comeback she might have attempted. That was probably for the best.
She heard no movement from within the darkened trailer and after a few seconds became two full minutes, she began to wonder if Emory had simply gone to bed and left her to stand the
re like a fool. But after another thirty seconds or so passed, the door reopened and Wim stepped into view. His hair was pushed askew and jutted up in the back making him look as if he had half a mohawk. The smile she’d wanted to show Emory earlier came easily now. It was always her first instinct when she saw Wim. No matter what, he’d always be her first love.
But Wim didn’t smile back. Instead he covered his mouth as he tried and failed to stifle a yawn. Then he plodded down the steps but stopped a yard short of her. Why wouldn’t he touch her, she wondered. She wanted that. Needed that. For him to take her hand, to hold her in his arms again. He promised her once that he’d never let her go, but he’d broken that promise after they arrived on the Ark and she still wasn’t sure why. Did he too think she’d chosen a side? That she couldn’t be trusted?
“Surprised to see you,” he said.
“I wanted to talk about today.”
“I already told your father everything that happened. Forward and backward several times over and my story stayed the same because it was the truth.”
There it was. The divide between them wasn’t three feet, it may as well have been a mile.
“I’m not here to interrogate you, Wim. I came to see how you were. If you’re okay.”
His posture sagged and Ramey hoped that was some of the tension leaving him. “Oh. I’m all right.”
“Can we talk?”
He nodded. “But not here. Go for a walk with me.”
They walked and walked, crossing the expanse between the scattering of trailers toward an open field where the farm animals Wim tended to slept in knee high fescue, but talk was sparse and superficial.
Wim motioned to a newborn calf. “That girl’s only four days old. Had to pull it out of the mama. I wasn’t sure either was going to make it through but they seem to be doing just fine now.”
As if it knew it was being talked about, the calf lifted its head and looked at them.
“You go on back to sleep now.”
The calf’s head lolled to the side and rested against its mother and soon enough its eyes fell shut again.
“You’re so good with them,” Ramey said.
“It’s no special talent. Done it all my life.”
“It’s because they know you’re kind. That you’ll take care of them.” She reached over and grabbed his hand but he deftly slipped it free.
It always seemed to be like this now. Like the weeks they spent together before coming here had ceased to exist. That their bond had been a figment of her imagination. Maybe it was, she thought. Maybe Wim was simply protecting her because he was a good man. Maybe he never cared for her any more than Mina or Emory or Bundy or even these animals.
“I’ve been ordered to butcher three steer so there’s meat through the winter. I told ‘em it’s too soon, that we need to build up the herd first. There’s plenty of canned goods to go around. They don’t need to be killing anything.”
“I’ll talk to my father.”
“Orders came from him. Just like all the others.”
“I can still try.”
“Do what you want.”
His words were curt, the tone cutting. This wasn’t the man she thought she knew and she almost stormed away right then but she forced herself to stay calm. “Wim, why did you bring that boy back with you? You knew how everyone here would react.”
He looked at her. Really looked at her, for the first time that night.
“You haven’t been out there in months. Things haven’t got none better. If anything, it’s worse because everything, and I really mean everything, I’ve seen outside of these walls for months on end is dead. Either dead and rotting on the ground or dead and walking around and trying to eat me. I have no idea how many of those zombies I’ve killed now but its more than all the people I knew my whole life put together.
“I do it because it needs done. And because when I look into their eyes I don’t see monsters, I see people who are dead but because of some awful cruel twist of fate, they aren’t allowed to die. So, I give them that end they deserve. Not because they’re evil, but because they’re just as much victims in this as me and you.
“That boy today, he’s the first living person I’ve seen outside these walls in five months. And you know, I’d started to think it really was over, that there wasn’t anything left alive out there. That we were all that remained. But when I saw that kid, I realized I was wrong and I ain’t never been so happy to be wrong before. That’s why I brought him back. Because that boy means there’s a chance. That there’s still hope.”
He looked down but before he did Ramey could see his eyes were wet. She again reached out and grabbed onto his hand and he again tried to pull away, but without as much force and she held on. “My God, Wim. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything you’ve seen and everything you’ve had to do.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. You’ve been saddled with all this shit because you’re stronger than the rest of us, but that doesn’t make it alright.”
Ramey looked up into his light blue eyes and watched as the tears spilled down the lower lids and drew glistening trails down his cheeks until the water got caught up in the black stubble of his beard. Suddenly being safe didn’t matter. All that mattered was Wim.
“I hate that this place has pulled us apart. That you and my father don’t get along. That you’re stuck living in some piece of shit trailer and that that they make you go out there and see and do those horrible things.”
She’d never seen him like this. So hurt and so wounded. She realized that maybe now he was the one who needed saved and she wasn’t going to let him down. “And after winter, if you still want to leave, we’ll leave.”
His mouth dropped open in shock and Ramey couldn’t help but think he looked as surprised as a little boy who just saw Santa Claus climbing down a chimney. “You’d do that?”
She nodded, squeezing his hand tight. His palms were sweating. She thought about her father. She didn’t know if she could really go through with leaving him, but she hoped in time that would change because the man standing in front of her now was her future.
“I never said this out loud, but I love you, Wim. I don’t know the exact moment it happened but I can tell you that I haven’t stopped.”
Wim stared at her so long Ramey thought he might kiss her, but instead he took her face between his calloused, working man palms.
“That night on the farm. When you sat down beside me in front of the bonfire and laid your head against my shoulders.”
She waited for him to go on. He didn’t. “What about it?”
“That’s when it happened.”
“When what happened, Wim?”
“That’s when I fell in love with you.”
Then Wim leaned in to her and they kissed, really kissed, for the first time. And even though they didn’t do anything more than kiss, it was as perfect a moment as she’d ever experienced in her 19 years of life.
Chapter Nine
The seventy or so residents of the Ark congregated inside a wood sided building which was large enough to house twice that number. Most sat in folding chairs, feet shuffling, fingers tapping. They are a nervous bunch, Wim thought.
It was cool inside the cavernous room but sweat seeped through Wim’s pores as he stood in the rear corner, trying to stay in the shadows. None of the natives had said a word to him since he arrived, but several angry looks had been hurled his way like daggers. He never did like being the center of attention and was even less fond of it now. The only person who seemed to look at him with compassion was Delphine Boudreaux. He caught her staring his way several times and once he even thought he saw a smile.
Wim didn’t know much about Delphine, and it seemed neither did anyone else. The rumor was that she lived on the island before it became the Ark and that, while she wasn’t part of Doc’s original group, she was still privy to some of the inner workings. She had long braided hair which hung thick as a rope halfwa
y down her back. It was white with dirty blonde streaks, but it seemed near impossible to tell her age for certain. Sometimes Wim thought she looked 50, others 70. He’d only had conversations with her in passing, but of all the people associated with the Ark, she was one with whom he felt he might share some common ground.
But right now, the only person he cared to see was Ramey and she sat in the front, stealing glances his way but not risking a reaffirming smile or nod. Not that Wim blamed her. He wouldn’t have wanted to look like his own ally right now, not amongst this bunch.
When Doc arrived with Phillip and Ellen Sideris, the Ark’s only actual physician, the crowd had risen to their collective feet, an act which both dismayed and disgusted Wim. He’d grown to understand how cult leaders like Jim Jones and David Koresh did it. He could only hope that Doc wasn’t as evil as those men. But, if he had been a betting man, he thought those odds were quite poor.
After a few brief paragraphs reminding everyone why they were there, Doc got to the meat of it.
“We lost two of our own yesterday. Clark was an original member of the Ark. One of our hardest and most loyal workers. He was integral to establishing life here and keeping us safe. Life here will not be the same without him. And Caleb Daniels, although he arrived here after most of us, will also be missed. I’d like to take a moment of silence in their memory.”
Wim watched as most of the people in the room shut their eyes and bowed their heads. He dipped his a bit, but kept his eyes open. He watched as Doc, Ellen Sideris, and Phillip huddled in a brief, hushed conversation up front. It ended before the supposed moment of silence and after two or three beats, Doc resumed speaking.
“And as you also know, William Wagner brought a very, very sick young man into the Ark.”
Nearly every head in the room swiveled in Wim’s direction. It made him feel a bit like a contestant who had just been chosen to compete on The Price is Right but no one was cheering him on and he was not inclined to rush the stage.
“Doctor Sideris,” Doc tipped his head toward Sideris, a slight, but hard woman in her sixties with skin the color and consistency of shoe leather. “Is caring for the young man. At the present, he is unconscious and heavily sedated while we wait to see if the treatment is successful.”