“I need to clean the wound out. Otherwise it’ll go bad.”
Shan sunk back into the sick bay bed.
“Do it fast,” she said.
***
Mo walked into the canteen and saw only two of the tables occupied. There was a cluster sitting at the table in front of the TV: Thomas, Colin, Magda, and Alex. Further back, Liz sat with her daughter Melissa.
“There’s no banging on the fire door,” Mo said, taking a seat between Colin and Thomas.
“I took a look out the window. They’re still in the car park, just wandering around aimlessly,” Colin answered. “Reckon if we don’t attract their attention they won’t bother us.”
“What are we doing about breakfast?” Mo asked.
Thomas snorted out a plume of smoke from his cigarette.
“Not much of a breakfast,” he grumbled, holding out the lit cigarette as if he were examining it.
“I run off coffee most mornings, anyway,” Colin said, taking a swig from his plastic cup.
“Anything new on TV?” Mo asked.
“Fifty-seven channels and nothing on,” Thomas said.
“Just the looped announcement that people should stay in their homes, to avoid contact with others, and co-operate with local law enforcement and military forces,” Colin said.
“It’s just a recorded message; you don’t even see an announcer on screen. All it is is that.” Thomas pointed at the screen.
Mo looked at the static image. It was a crude graphic spelling out exactly what Colin had said.
“Suppose I’ll get some breakfast then,” Mo said, standing back up.
He walked over to the vending machine and punched the buttons for a coffee.
He carefully picked up the hot beverage and rejoined the group.
Thomas caught Mo’s eye and nodded over at the girl and her mother. The girl was eating an oat and nut bar and sipping from a can of cola.
Thomas whispered, “Tell me again why they’re getting a breakfast bar?”
“Are you serious?” Colin asked. “You telling me you can’t skip breakfast?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Well, what do you mean?”
“How long are we going to be here?”
“I don’t know.”
“There’s my point.” Thomas said, prodding the table with his finger. “It’ll be easier to skip eating today than it will tomorrow or the next day. We should be conserving our resources.”
Colin shook his head. “She’s an eleven year-old girl and Liz hasn’t even opened hers.”
“Who gave them the food anyway?” Thomas asked.
“I did,” Colin answered.
“So you’re in charge already?” Thomas asked loudly. “You’re the one who decides who eats and when?”
Before Colin could defend himself, the canteen door opened and Sharon walked in. She had done the best she could to tidy herself up with fresh make-up and combed hair, but the difference from yesterday’s pristine visage was unmistakable.
“What are you doing smoking in here?” Sharon demanded.
“Having breakfast,” Thomas said in an overly loud voice.
“You’re not allowed to smoke on the premises.”
“I think you’ll find a trip to the Smoking Shelter contravenes health and safety legislation at the moment,” Thomas said, taking a drag on his cigarette.
“This is intolerable,” Sharon snapped.
“Take it up with HR,” Thomas replied.
Sharon’s face flushed scarlet. She looked to Mo and then back at Thomas before turning and stomping out of the canteen.
“Excuse me,” Colin said.
He stood up from the table and left the canteen. As soon as the door had shut behind him he jogged up the stairs after Sharon.
“Sharon.”
Sharon paused on the first landing with her back to Colin. He had the sense that she was composing herself before acknowledging him.
Colin skipped up the last few steps to draw level with her.
“Yes, Colin, how can I help you?” she said in a very controlled tone.
“I don’t know your staff, but Thomas strikes me as trouble,” Colin said.
“I have to admit this situation is revealing people’s true colours,” Sharon agreed. “What are you proposing we do?”
“Do?” Colin said. “I don’t know. I don’t think we can do anything just now. But if things get worse there will be less of a restraint on him.”
“Is this an area of expertise you have?”
“Um, I guess so,” Colin replied. “I’m a high school teacher.”
“A teacher?” Sharon said, disappointment in her voice.
“A teacher and I see this kind of power play in the classroom all the time—the bullies gathering allies, intimidating people, using violence to get their way. If we don't keep him in check he’ll start pushing us around.”
“So what are you proposing?”
“We need to keep a united front,” Colin said. “The moment he spots a weakness he’ll exploit it.”
“Very well,” Sharon agreed.
Colin nodded. “We need to put some structure in place, give everyone something to work for. Otherwise we’ll just fracture and start pulling against each other.”
“Okay,” Sharon said. “We start after breakfast. Try to work out a consensus as what we should be doing, prioritising our situation, look at what possible outcomes we have.”
“Good. Shall I go tell everyone to meet at, say, nine o’clock?” Colin asked.
“Yes, that will give me time to write an agenda. Nine o’clock in room A-1,” Sharon replied.
***
Although there were three empty floors to the building, Sharon had dictated they all meet up in one of the many conference rooms. The room could easily host a dozen or so people comfortably, but the atmosphere was anything but comfortable.
Sharon placed herself at the head of the table, close to the door. The others fanned out, forming small enclaves with empty chairs as the demarcation line.
Here are the power blocks, Sharon mused.
Colin had chosen to sit two places to her right with a view of the door. Colin was a people person, Sharon surmised. He would no doubt smile and nod to greet each arrival at the meeting. He had shown his tacit support for Sharon’s authority, but had purposefully chosen to sit with an empty seat between him and her, maintaining a little distance.
Taking the same position on the opposite side of the table was her sales manager John. He sat with fresh vending machine coffee and an A5 notepad. He hadn’t bothered to put his tie back on this morning and his shirt was creased and stained. There was an unpleasant odour of sweat and coffee hovering around the man that repulsed Sharon. Their situation was difficult, but there was still soap in the dispensers, paper towels, and running water. The man had no excuse for his slovenliness.
Sharon looked around the room, trying to ignore John’s aroma.
Liz and her daughter sat together midway down the table with Mo sitting opposite them.
The two Polish cleaners, Magda and Alex, sat side-by-side at the end of the table, still smoking. An empty plastic cup sat between them and served as an ashtray.
At the very far end of the table was Thomas. He had come in and swept his hand along the back of the empty seats like a psychic trying to gleam some ethereal information from his touch. When he finally took his place he pushed the chair far out and leaned back with his hands behind his head and his left foot resting on top of his right thigh.
There was little difference here and now to the everyday board meetings she attended. Everyone had to promote and protect their own interests, taking as much from the others as they could while managing potential conflict. The problem Sharon faced now was the lack of constraints. Thomas in particular, sitting directly opposite her, could disengage from the group, and with the normal rules of society in flux he might resort to physical violence to protect his interests.
“Tha
nk you all for coming,” Sharon began. “We have a number of issues we need to address if we are to remain in this office block.”
“Food, for one thing,” Thomas interrupted.
“There are a number of issues we need to address and we won’t accomplish anything if we don’t take a measured approach,” Sharon said. “So I suggest we approach things in a logical manner and that way we’ll make the best use of our resources. I have a list of things here. We’ll go through them one at a time and we’ll all have a chance to give our input.”
Like the lap dog he was, John was nodding his approval, notepad at a fresh page, pen in hand.
“We’ll start with security,” Sharon said. She looked over at Mo. “Mo, you know more about the security of this building than anyone else. Can we remain in here safely? Will those people outside be able to break in?”
Mo’s face dropped and he leaned back in his seat. He hadn’t expected to have to participate in the meeting and was caught somewhat off-guard.
“Um, I’m not sure,” Mo said honestly. “They don’t seem to be trying very hard to get in.”
Colin entered the conversation with, “Gary and that other bloke in the parking lot just banged on the doors. They didn’t try to smash a window or jimmy the door open or anything like that. They just pounded on it with their fists.”
“What about the ones out front by the lobby’s glass windows?” Sharon asked. “Will they be able to smash the glass?”
“They might,” Mo said, “but not with their bare hands. They’d need to smash it with a brick or something. Even then it would take a fair amount of strength and a few good swipes.”
“They don’t seem to be smart enough to try that,” Colin added.
“So we’re safe for now,” Sharon summarised.
“I guess so,” Mo said.
“We’ll need to keep an eye on the situation,” Colin said. “For now they’re only slapping at the windows when they see one of us, but who knows if that will change.”
Sharon narrowed her eyes slightly as if she were processing this as new information. She nodded at Colin.
“Very good point,” she said. “Mo, you’d be best placed to take charge of building security. Are you up for the task?”
Mo was again taken by surprise to have been singled out and it look a moment for him to wrestle out a nod of acceptance.
“I’d like you to check the building periodically during the day,” Sharon said. “On a related note, I think we should hold morning and evening meetings to monitor our progress and keep everyone informed. That would be an ideal time to report back, Mo.”
“Um, yeah. Sure,” Mo said softly.
“Next is food.” Sharon looked directly at Thomas.
Thomas cocked his head and stared back at Sharon.
“We need to take a detailed inventory of what food we have,” Sharon said. “We have a few sandwiches left in the vending machine and sweets and such, but we need to know how much we have exactly so we can work out how long we can hold up.”
“What about the drawers?” Colin asked.
“Sorry?” Sharon said.
“Well, you’ve got four floors of office space and God knows how many drawers. I know myself that in my drawer in class I’ve got a packet of chocolate cookies. I’m guessing most people will have some comfort food.”
“Good point.”
“Well, I don’t know if we should resort to stealing people’s personal property just yet,” John said.
“What do you mean?” Sharon asked.
“It’s just that this whole thing might blow over tomorrow and people might get upset about us going through their personal things,” John said. “There could be lawsuits and the police and such-like.”
“I don’t think anyone will object too strongly about us eating their birthday chocolates, given the circumstances,” Sharon said.
“What about the damage to office property?” John said. “You’ll need to break into most of the drawers.”
“Oh, I can pop the locks of these drawers real easy,” Thomas said. “They’re barrel locks. It just takes a dunt with a hammer and a screwdriver and they pop right out. Minimum damage. If you want, I can just detach the housing at the back and get in that way. No damage at all, but it’ll take a dog’s age to fix it back up again.”
“Okay, then,” Sharon said. “Thomas, I’ll leave it up to you and John to go through the drawers on this floor.”
John held his pen up in the air. “I’m not sure—”
“I’ve noted your concern, John, and I’d like you to take an inventory of anything valuable that you feel the owner wouldn’t want lost. We can lock up personal items in one of the stationery cupboards. I’m sure you can organise enough zip-lock bags or boxes and label them appropriately.”
“Fine,” John huffed, resigned to doing things Sharon’s way, as always. He lowered his pen and made a splodge of black ink on the empty notepaper.
“Make sure you save any smokes you find,” Magda said to Thomas.
Thomas gave a deliberate nod.
“And when John and I have finished collecting the scraps from people’s desks, who will dish out the food?” Thomas asked.
“We’ll take an inventory of all the food and dole it out fairly between us,” Sharon said.
“And who determines what’s fair?”
“We all do,” Sharon said. “That’s one of the reasons for having a meeting. When we meet back up this evening we’ll know exactly what we have and can proceed from there.”
“Why just the drawers on this floor?” Colin asked. “What about the desks upstairs? They might have something worthwhile in them.”
Sharon smiled. “They’ll all be empty, Colin.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure. The company has been downsizing this branch over the last two years. The people who used to work on those floors have been reassigned for over a year.”
“So three floors are just sitting empty?” Colin asked.
“That’s about it. Head office has been trying to outsource the rest of this department’s work, or lease the empty space or find us smaller premises. In the meantime it’s being treated as contingency resource. So, yes, it’s just sitting empty.”
“We used it last summer for the Building Empowerment seminars,” John added.
“Thank you, John,” Sharon said condescendingly. She cast a look around the room. “The next point of order is the power. The generator won’t have enough power to run indefinitely. I asked Thomas to turn it on this morning so we had power to use the vending machines and switch the television on. I don’t think it’s efficient to keep the generator running, so my proposal would be to limit the amount of time it runs for; say, half an hour in the morning and half an hour in the evening. This will give enough time for the water in the urns to boil and allow us to check if there have been any news updates.”
“Sounds sensible,” Colin agreed.
“What about the water?” Mo asked.
“What about it?” Sharon said.
“Well, if the power has gone off, it stands to reason the water will, too,” Mo said.
“That’s right,” Thomas added. “No point us looking for food in people’s drawers if we don’t have any water. We’ll die in a couple of days without water.”
“Okay, any suggestions?” Sharon asked.
“We need to save as much water as we can now,” Mo said.
“Well, can I leave you and Colin to organise that? I suppose we will need to set in place some protocols for using the restrooms and washing?”
“I think Mo will have his hands full with security,” Colin said. “Why don’t Liz, Melissa, and I work on the water problem?”
Without waiting to hear if Liz would agree, Sharon nodded her head approvingly. “Good. The three of you can see to that. Now, are there any other points of business?”
The room was quiet. The occupants looked round at each other to see if someone else would raise an issu
e.
“Good then. We’ll meet back here at five p.m.,” Sharon said.
The room was filled with the trundle of chairs being pushed back as people stood up to leave.
Thomas hadn’t moved. He sat there reclining with his hands behind his head and waited. He waited until everyone was standing up and John had his hand on the door handle.
“What about the boy? Thomas said, looking up the ceiling.
“What about Grant?” Liz asked softly.
Everyone stopped. Liz was staring blankly at the far wall.
“What about Grant?” Liz asked more forcefully.
Sharon sat back down, and the three men at the top end of the table followed suit. Thomas, Magda, and Alex remained standing, but didn’t move to leave.
“What about my son?” Liz asked again.
“What do you want to do, Liz?” Colin asked.
Liz’s eyes were puffy and red. She shook her head.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know because it’s not him up there. That’s not my little boy, but he’s not gone.”
“We don’t have to do anything about your son if you don’t want to,” Sharon assured her.
“Surely we can’t leave him like this,” Liz said. “I mean, you said he was dead and I don’t know what to believe.”
“Of course he’s not dead,” John said. “It’s just some crazy virus. When we get rescued they’ll pump him full of antibiotics and he’ll be right as rain.”
“I want to believe that, but no one’s coming to save us,” Liz said.
“What makes you say that?” John asked. “They’re bound to send help. It just takes time to get the rescue effort mobilised, that’s all.”
“Then why is the national news off?” Thomas asked.
“You’re not helping, Thomas,” Sharon chastised.
“I’m not helping?” Thomas replied. “I’ve done nothing but help. I’ve been the go-to guy with the gennie and I’ve taken my share of watches over that health hazard upstairs. How am I not helping?”
Colin leaned over the table and reached a hand out for Liz. Cautiously, she let her hand slip into his.
“Liz, we’ll help you through this,” Colin said. “We all will, won't we?”
Demise of the Living Page 12