by Tyler Lahey
Liam leaned back. “This isn’t our thing anymore. It’s someone else’s and there is something off about them. Mark my words.”
“Democracy is overrated.” Harley snapped. Her arrogance annoyed Liam more day by day. She had created a niche, and filled it with zest. The newcomers had flocked to her.
Liam rose, angry from being inside his own head too much, and kissed her hungrily. Feeling the anger, he took her then and there, in that old office. She sprawled out on the cracking leather and met him halfway, with her own fury that boiled just beneath the surface. When he was done, he collapsed on top of her, panting with exertion and sweat. He smiled, feeling he had done well. That smile evaporated as he saw her expression of ambivalence. Harley shrugged, put her clothes back on, and went back to sorting pills, as if nothing had happened. Liam sat next to her like a hungry dog, trying to think of something to say.
There was a solid knock on the wooden door. “Am I disturbing you?” It was Agis, polished and crisp, with a modulated tone that was undeniably pleasant to hear.
“Not at all, come in.” Harley gave her best smile. “We’re running low on painkillers, I think people raid the stash…but there are a fair amount of antibiotics…no one has been going outside and getting hurt since the cold. I hope you have some more though, now with over one hundred people.”
Agis waved his hand casually. “Not to worry. We have a supply.”
Liam stared the man down, as Harley continued to beam.
Agis took a seat next to her. “But I didn’t come here to ask about the drugs.” He looked to Liam, and back. “I hear you were both in the engagement, with those…hillsmen, the savages.”
Liam groaned inside, and Harley cut him off. “We were. We fought them, under Jaxton, beat them back.”
“Were they infected?”
“They had all been bitten. They had weapons, and there was something different about them. They weren’t so mindless. They did not attack on sight, for one, and they had some rough semblance of organization.”
Agis mused, stoically. “Could you show me where they are?”
“Yes.” “Yeah.” Liam and Harley answered at the same time.
Agis made sure to look at each in appreciation, though Harley only seemed to notice him looking at her. He rose to leave.
“What will you do with them?”
He turned, slowly. “We will not live in this school forever. A time will come when we retake the entire town. Perhaps….we can reach an accommodation with those things. Perhaps not. Thank you for your help.”
After the door had closed, Liam noticed Harley biting her lip.
…
Elvis scrutinized the meat. It looked pulpy. When he poked it, blood oozed out. He could eat it, or he could go back to the Citadel. He tossed aside the empty lighter. For twelve hours he had scoured the houses around him for gasoline, for a lighter, for anything to start a fire. He had returned to the modern abode in failure.
He slammed his fists on the granite counter-top, furious he couldn’t even live alone. He was a failure, in all senses of the word. At night, he lay shivering under a half-dozen blankets. In the day, he stalked around the forest of dead leaves like a leopard, and rose firing maniacally when he spotted a small woodland creature. Now he heard, and felt, his aggravated stomach yelling abuse at him. He had to eat. There was nothing to lose, right? Right you are Bennett, right you are.
Elvis snatched the rabbit’s flesh and brought it to his mouth. The blood was dripping onto the hunting manual. He could still see fluffs of hair and skin stuck to the body. His hand was shivering, but his teeth sunk into the pink flesh. He chewed fast and viciously, willing himself not to puke. The sensation of the raw rabbit meat was so unlike anything he had ever consumed he was sure it would come back up. Two bites later, he launched it against the wall, and stumbled back into the bedroom.
His fingers fumbled for the bottle of painkillers. He downed four more, the last of the stash. Lying spread eagle on the satin bed-cover, he closed his eyes in peace. But the second he did, like always, the images of his father and mother being eaten to death ambushed him. His eyes snapped open. He was so tired. But he couldn’t close his eyes. Staggering to his feet, he snatched his rifle from the pure white mattress. His steps took him thru the sliding glass door out onto the wooden deck. He held his hand up to block the sun, and breathed deeply, feeling the frigid air ripping into his lungs. The last rays of light illuminated the stark landscape, a mass of grays and browns that stretched for miles till it ran into the western valley wall. As he eased down onto the deck, the sound of his groaning was the only noise in that lucid air.
He raised his rifle, and aimed at a whiff of cloud. He squeezed the trigger five times, unloading the clip. With each shot the weapon rocked back against his shoulder, and the thunder that followed snapped and rolled across the desolate forest. They would be coming soon.
As the sun crept away from him, he considered what he would tell his parents, were he to see them again. Had he possessed another bullet, he might have ended it all there and then, such was the shame that filled his heart. Tears came unbidden to his eyes, but there was no reason to wipe them away. They tumbled down his cheeks and fell on peeling paint. He had failed his family, and he had fled from his friends. He felt a slow-rising horror captivating his feeble limbs, inch by inch. As the space between the tree-trunks grew dark, he contemplated his after-life.
He contemplated the concept of nothing. That there was nothing after this. And he breathed a little easier. Elvis exhaled deeply. There was a scratch on the wood behind him.
An infected man stood there, drawn by the gunfire. He was emaciated, so feebly fleshed that his arms were sticks with ball joints covered with a thing coat of rubbery, bruised flesh. The man closed the distance to Elvis within two seconds, and Elvis did not try to run. The man opened his mouth and closed down on Elvis’ forearm.
He knew this was the end. He felt the man’s grimy, bleeding hands clawing at his clothing. The eyes were dilated to the extreme, great big orbs of black vapidness. The filthy wife-beater that hung on the skeletal frame hung like drying laundry. He hand no pants on, and his penis had been chewed off, Bennett noticed with ambivalence. He looked to the sky, where the pinpricks of light were fighting to emerge in the blackness. He would go away, and that was it.
Except he felt a queer sensation on his arm. It didn’t hurt as much as he expected. Elvis clung to a fistful of slimy hair and yanked backwards. There was a ring of red on his arm, but no broken skin. The man had no teeth, simply rotting gums that seethed with pulsing bacteria. In disgust, Elvis kicked the man and heard the ribs crack. He stepped on the seething creature in anger, furious this one final thing had gone wrong, even still.
The stars had bested the clouds. There was a tapestry in the sky above the two struggling mortals that was timeless, ageless, a sky seen for a thousand lives of men before, and for a thousand lives of men after. And Elvis considered an even more terrifying possibility. What if he was wrong? What if his family was right there, just waiting for him on the other side? He considered them. They had probably forgiven him. They would forgive him, and still he would never have paid for the crime he committed. Nature was still offended, he was sure. This man had no teeth.
What were the chances of that? Then, Elvis was a believer. He was a zealot, convinced that the fates had reached down in a final offer of clemency. He had to pay for the crime. He had to restore the balance. His boot slid to the man’s neck. The feeble jaw gnawed on his steel-toed boots. He raised the heavy wooden stock of the gun, and brought it down with a fanatical will. It exploded the skull, and stained the wood in the dark.
Elvis knew what had been asked of him.
….
Bennett watched them skin the deer. One of the new men, a bearded ruffian with a husky voice, showed them the proper technique. He was a civilian.
They had taken a baby doe, and a male crowned with a pitiful rack. A four pointer. It would take time for
the deer population to fully rebound, especially while the infected were still hunting them. The tennis courts were stained scarlet in the torchlight. Bennett didn’t like it. Turning away, he ran into Agis’s chest.
“What did I tell you?”
Bennett retreated. “You certainly delivered. We were barely getting anything before.”
“Everyone has a place. Some of the men with me have been hunting all their lives. We wont starve this winter.” He had a black cap on against the chill; winter was almost on them.
“We might kill each other, though.”
Agis turned his chiseled facial features and clean jaw to Bennett, in question.
“Some of the others, they think you’re being a bit heavy handed.”
Agis shrugged casually. He clapped Bennett on the shoulder and grinned. “There was no order when I first arrived. That has to change. It will take some time getting used to. Everyone has a place.”
Bennett found himself wanting to help the man, to be his confidant. “I know. I’d suggest taking it easy though, some of the hot-heads are used to doing whatever they want.”
“Sound advice.” Their mouths produced little plumes of visible air. “Can I count on you? To be my inside man? We both want this to be as smooth as possible, no?”
Bennett rushed to agree. “Of course. You, you can count on me. So, what town were you an officer in?”
Agis’s nose twitched. “Little place called East Lilac. In Jersey, actually.”
“Interesting name.”
Agis laughed. “Sounds intimidating, I know. Well, for a while after the outbreak we followed every order from the Army. Every order, to the letter. It took us a while, to realize, their orders were all part of a design. A design to minimize panic, and keep us out of the Army’s way. By the time the orders did stop coming, we had long since ignored them.”
Bennett nodded, feeling his hopes had been affirmed. “Most of the people here, they have feel betrayed, as well.”
“And they should. I hope you don’t associate us with them? Do you?”
Bennett shook his head aggressively. “No, Agis, I…No. We trust you. You’re like us. Not the other.”
Agis seemed pleased, and convinced. “The infection started popping up all across the country, last I heard. The continent is overrun.”
“What was it like, out there? Outside this little haven.”
“There are far more of them outside this valley, Bennett, far more. Loyalty extends only as far as the family. Blood ties run deep. They are bound with instinct. A father, or mother, will never hesitate to protect his children, even in the face of certain death. That can’t be taught. Loyalty to friends is much more complicated. Those decisions generally require thought. A cost-benefit analysis. No one wants to die.”
“We need to rebuild those ties. The bonds that held us together once, as a society. Anarchy is evil,” Bennett said bitterly.
Agis chuckled. “That’s because people are evil. You must learn what motivates them. Some are bound by shame, by fear of letting down those they hold close. Others, by love, by that intoxication, that lunacy of love. And some people, some people are bound by nothing at all.”
“Surely, they aren’t the majority.”
Agis’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the skinning proceeding in the tennis courts below him. “Maybe not. But they must be weeded out, without remorse. They can infect a society, and bring it down. You understand?”
“I do. There are some here, that I think of immediately when you say that.”
The nametag shone in the starlight. Agis. “You’ll have to keep me informed,” Agis said, his eyes keen.
“That I will.”
Chapter Twelve
“He has everyone doing something. Idleness is not allowed, unless its been scheduled. There are guards at all hours of the day. Hunting parties go out daily. Some are assigned to the kitchen, others to that doctor, Annabelle.” Wilder’s hands moved quickly as he spoke.
Adira sat up on her bed, groaning in pain. “Why…why is this bad?”
Wilder thought her face looked better. Anything would have looked better than it was before. “Because he isn’t one of us, Adira. I’m telling you, there’s something wrong with them. They’re used to getting their way. There’s something lurking beneath the surface. I don’t even think they’re real police officers.”
Jaxton sighed, the shadows beneath his eyes standing out on a gaunt face. “Don’t go looking for trouble, Wilder, if there is none.”
The young lad threw up his hands. “Something isn’t right, I’m telling you.” A handful of condoms landed on the carpet. “They handed out these. Said there would be consequences for any pregnancies. Agis told us he would not tolerate babies being brought up in this world.”
“I heard that from Annabelle.” Adira croaked huskily. “She says they think people should just take extra precautions…till things have quieted down.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit,” Wilder snapped.
Adira chuckled, but stopped short when the pain seized her abdomen. “You’ve taken over Jaxton’s mantle.”
Jaxton sighed appreciatively and laid his shaggy head to rest on her breast.
“I have not. We need you back, Jaxton. Adira too. Not everyone is comfortable with an outsider issuing us commands like they have any authority. They’re all the fucking same.”
Jaxton opened his bleary eyes. “Let’s keep an eye out, alright? I value your opinion more than most others. You were there for me in the beginning.” He sat up. “I will never forget that.”
“I’m still here for you, for you both. What do you need?”
Adira smiled. “Nothing at all, bud. Rest easy, ok? Annabelle is helping me. I trust her.”
Wilder nodded, and hefted his shotgun. “I’ll check in on you guys soon.”
As Duke followed Wilder out, Wilder muttered to himself, “I think we’ve lost him.”
Duke laid a hand on his friend’s arm. “Don’t forget what you saw. Don’t forget what happened to her. They aren’t the same. Who would be? They may come back to us, and they may not. And if they didn’t, I wouldn’t blame them.” His eyes were burning. Wilder nodded, moved by the conviction in his friend’s words. He would have to pray for them, and for the return of their leader.
…
Liam racked the weight. It clanged loudly in the lonely gym. He could see his breath, as his chest heaved with the exertion. Like always, he longed to hear music. Longed to hear a thumping bass, or a soaring chorus. It had been absent from his life for over 6 months, and it was awful. A little bit of fire had evaporated from him when the last battery was used up. Just once, he wished they would use some of the last gasoline to fire up the speakers and drown the fear away.
He wished he wasn’t alone. He had seen Jaxton almost daily, when he visited their room. But his friends were not the same. More than ever, he felt alone as they turned inwards, to each other.
A figure strode among the weights. It was difficult to see in the poorly lit room. He felt he could see the mustiness hanging in the air, and there was Joseph cutting through it with a small smile.
“I heard I might find you here. No Harley?”
“Joseph. Uhhh, well no. No she’s not here.” Liam blinked in subdued surprise. He had avoided the small man with the kindly eyes, believing him to be a peon of Bennett. Liam’s loyalty to Jaxton still ran deep.
Joseph’s eye contact never wavered, though it was never overbearing, “I’m creating a group…and I was hoping you would help me out.”
Liam stuttered and laughed. “What, like an extra-curricular?”
“Something like that. I think you could assist me.”
“What kind of group?”
Joseph took a seat on a pad of cracking red leather. “A spiritual group, of sorts.”
“I’m out.”
“Hold on, hold on. It’s nothing too intense. As you know, I’m a spiritual man. I just think it would be beneficial if so
me of us got together sometimes, and talked about all this, about what we think comes next, how to prepare for it, things like that.”
“I don’t believe in blindly following one book.”
“I know you don’t. I don’t know how many people do, any more. That’s why we’re going to use all three of them.”
“All three?”
“That’s right. To see what they, together, can offer us, if anything. I don’t know how much more casual I can make this,” Joseph said, laughing genuinely.
Liam found himself liking the man. He didn’t know much about him, but his warmth was infectious. He forced himself to stay wary, however. “Why did you come to me? We haven’t spoken much before.”
Joseph exhaled loudly.
“I always pride myself on my honesty, so I’ll just tell you.”
Liam interrupted. “I can’t tell if you’re a good manipulator, or just a foolish, good man.”
Joseph laughed again, and spoke frankly. “If you feel like I’m in some way lying to you, by all means do not join me. If I feel genuine though, give it some thought.”
Liam shrugged begrudgingly; content to answer with his body language.
“But the reason I came to find you. Liam it’s no secret you’ve been a bit of a loner these past ten days or so. Your friends are…well they’re taking different paths, or they’re sitting on the side of the road for a bit, for a rest. But you’re still here. I thought we might benefit from your point of view.” He rose, and patted the barbell affectionately. “Let me know.”
As he neared the exit, Liam found himself answering. “I will.”
…
Bennett watched the crowd carefully. They looked cleaner, more attentive, and bright-eyed. Their confident body language was a stark contrast to the times of hardship, more than twelve sunsets past. Someone had figured out that today was November 29th. Not that it mattered.
He could count the number of weapons he saw on two hands, in a crowd of over one hundred. It was another severe divergence from the bristling forest of rifles one would have seen a month prior. There was a whiney, and Bennett grinned. The horses were still here, living behind a partition, on beds of hay. When the hay had run out, someone had moved rubber mats up from the field house. At first, the four animals chose to doze off standing, a tactic from their days as prey that only allowed them to enter light sleep. They had soon learned to love the mats.