Still Myself, Still Surviving: Part II: The Realization

by Marlin Grail

  “I didn’t know you and him were with the same group!”

  I deliver an assuring smile. “I’m glad he’s here, too.”

  Will then proceeds to explain how they both know each other. He goes to detail about being outdoors, and that this friend of his let him realize that people are not meant to be perfect.

  “He’s one of the main reasons I was able to get a different mindset about you, Gary.”

  I calmly chuckle then kneel down by the boy, hoping to receive a handshake. He quickly does so, and comments on our setup.

  “C.’s really far out here. I mean far.”

  How far is he talking?

  Rather than simply ask him where he comes from, or anything about his journey, I ask him if he would like some food.

  “You don’t have to ask me twice!”

  His cheery voice brings another laugh for Will, and the two of them go and enter the shelter.

  I put one foot onto the concrete floor, but I’m halted when Will turns around, offering a genuine hug to me.

  “Thanks, man.”

  I bet the others who are just waking will never believe that he and I just had a friendly moment like this.

  Giving a few pats on his back, I tell him it’s no problem.

  “Gary, he brought purpose to my life again. You know, I thought becoming leader would do that.”

  I gently release from our exchange. I don’t know how to intake all this emotional discharge coming out of him. I simply say, before heading back outside, “Purpose is important to have.”

  I close the doors, already hearing our group be introduced to this young friend of ours. Janice’s voice awakens with immediate interest and joy.

  “What’s your name?” I hear her ask.

  “Alex,” I hear in muted syllables.

  Thank you, Janice. We got to know his real name. Jacob and Mitchell, I’m forever sorry, and I’m never stopping that apology. At least once a day I’ll say I’m sorry.

  While heading back to find a new bathroom spot, a spot away from the undead, I take the time to recall what Will’s vulnerable words were to me.

  Being leader has brought me purpose, Will, but it’s a purpose that feels…out of my body. It’s the kind where it won’t reward me for fortune or happiness. I gain those feelings for myself when I think of the good things my sacrifice brings forth to you all.

  Anything else…anything bad…will just stick with me—just haunt me—unless I block it out entirely.

  I now know though that you can’t block out everything on the outside, otherwise this boy would never have returned to give you happiness, Will. You having purpose is me being rewarded for my purpose being about you.

  Chapter XIII

  Muffled noise from our radios interrupts the shelter’s activity. This is the moment I’ve been anxious about this whole day.

  I did nothing wrong last night. I will further detach if I do seem to get in trouble, because I was “tattled” on for not enjoying the brutal demonstration that man gave me and the dispatch.

  “Gary, it’s time for you to claim your ticket to the voyage,” our supervisor says.

  He sounds like he has no underlying motive he wants to bring up. As for me, rather than just ask him where to go, letting the conversation become straightforward, I respond back “I’m not leaving my group out of this. They’re coming too.”

  I don’t know—maybe I do—why I said that to him. I didn’t say it with politeness, and I’m sure he felt that, even as far as he is from me.

  I expect the argument to begin, but, instead, he takes my ears, and the others, by surprise.

  “Fair enough. There’s no problem to volunteering. I only kept it in the dark from you because I’m aware of your overprotectiveness when it comes to your people.”

  He was actually being considerate about me? On everything else he’s wanted to practically punish for, he’s aware of the one thing that would strain me the most, and didn’t press upon it? What is this “voyage” really all about?

  My thoughts spill out of me. “It sounds like a journey of some kind, but how far in distance? What do we need to be prepared for?”

  The answer becomes the most honest I’ve ever heard him share. “Look, don’t expect the mission to be on your favor this time. You’ll be going somewhere, doing something that is the most daunting task any members of C. have done. Expect downturns, and don’t be surprised about losses. For starters, if all of you choose to leave for it, then don’t expect to be returning. You won’t.”

  Don’t be implying this is a suicide mission. We’ve accepted into C., because it lets us have sustainability in a life already full of many opportunities to leave through death.

  I trip on my first words. “S-so if people stay, then they won’t be in this danger?”

  “…There’s an assembly starting this hour. Come to my roadblock now, and you’ll find out. If your people listening in don’t know their decision yet, let them come anyway. Before the departure, they can decide to back in or out of the mission.”

  It sounds like he’s saying I’m not allowed to back in or out, yet I’m to accept my group to either be left without me, or lead them with me. Are all of us at risk or not?

  No further communication comes from him. We all let down our radios. It’s very silent in the shelter. I wish to vehemently project all my fury to my mouthpiece. That is until the boy’s voice resonates on every wall.

  “Gosh, you all have to move out again? Haven’t you all moved more than enough out here?”

  It’s a confusing statement, but Ashton makes his response an indicator concerning his decision about this crossroads our group is facing. “I’ve moved around my whole life. This has become our home, but I’m sure even you know we have to take on whatever we’re told to.”

  Lissie puts in bluntly, “We don’t have to, Ashton. This is a choice.”

  Ashton calmly acknowledges what she’s said, but replies, “It’s not the supervisor we have to listen to.” He then points at me with the tip of his radio antenna.

  I’m in the spotlight, and have the full attention of everyone’s eyes.

  Though our supervisor said we could make our decision once we fully understand what’s going on, they can’t wait for that period of time. They want my response now.

  Lissie squeaks out my name. “You heard him, Gary. Don’t you want us away from the danger?”

  I let my arms freely express unknowing what to do, as though I feel my hands have been tied with choice. “I do. Believe me, Lissie, I do, but I just know there’s more to this ‘voyage’. It won’t be risky for only the ones on it. I-I can’t explain it, but I have a hunch that the people staying behind aren’t away from the danger.”

  It’s why I first brought to our supervisor that my group comes with me. From the moment I heard him talk, he had a morbid tone, while still standing straight and solemn.

  “Please, Gary. I miss and worry to death about you when you’re gone, but, like you said, we have to continue making a home here,” she urges.

  I’m speechless on how to respond. I’m not against her being safe, but I just feel it’s the better thing for us to be together on this mission. Will rises his slouched back off from the dresser he’s resting against.

  “I see where you’re coming from, Gary. That’s my reason for tagging along.”

  Ashton’s posture and attitude rejuvenates with excitement. “Count me in, Gary.”

  Janice nods with Ashton, keeping her gaze on me as her answer to accept. “I don’t want us to be split up. I’m coming.”

  Lissie maximizes her voice with a cough. She’s clearly baffled by us. “I can’t believe it! We find a place, and now the rest of you are okay leaving it?”

  At this point, Lissie, you have to come with us. Not by an order from the leader, but from the one who wants to protect you. I’ve lost so much already trying to let them take care of interaction, especially with the supervisor. I don’t want you alone, especially if you have to c
ome into contact near him.

  I pace over to her, mindful to her emotions, as she gives me a distant look. “Lissie, I know. But, if the rest are going, then I’m not okay leaving you alone.”

  “You forget, Gary, that I was by myself for a long time.” Her response is intense and unfriendly.

  I’m not doubtful of you being capable, Lissie. I believe I’m more testing our stances on this more because I’m tired of us splitting up…and the worry I’ll never see you again.

  Ashton breaks apart the closeness between her and me. “Girl, I’m with Gary on this. I mean, who knows how far we’re talking? Yeah, it could be an hour from here. It could be much longer. Point is, we stick together when we don’t know sh—”

  I’m aware of the kid in the area, so I hush him before he finishes his curses.

  Lissie puffs out an exhale of irritation to him, and to me. I choose to hug her tightly, willing to take a chance of her hitting me. I whisper, “Please come. I want us together, even if things go wrong. I want you with me if things do go bad.”

  At first, she’s reluctant, but, she then allows her arms to slowly link under my own. They start to smoothly move across my back. “Okay, Gary.”

  I may have sounded selfish with my plea, but I want to have as much time as I can with her. The supervisor’s now got me thinking morbidly.

  I help Lissie pack up her belongings. While I do so, I see the boy purposefully standing by the corner next to our shelter doors. “Alex. Do you know where your group’s land is at?”

  All he gives back is a silent shake of his head, sorrowful with his eyes for not knowing.

  “That’s okay,” I say with optimism. “They’ll probably be at the roadblock, seeing as how big this turn of events sounds.”

  “They’re not nearby here.” His response catches even Will’s attention. “Like I said, you guys are pretty far out from where my C. setup is.

  Are we not the only setup C. has?

  “O-okay,” Will says slowly. “So where are they?”

  The boy’s face lands down into his palms. “I-I don’t know.” It’s the sound of a voice breaking down from sadness. “I had to find people that would be able to take me back. It was part of my to-do-list.”

  I immediately hurry to him, placing a knee to the ground. “Don’t worry, Alex. We’ll find out. How far from here would you guess?”

  He audibly stumbles with not knowing. “M-maybe this trip you’ll be going will get us there.”

  That far, is it?

  Undeterred, just like our choice of banding together for this task ahead of us, I’m certain Alex will have greater chance of safely returning to his people on this travel than not.

  I use the word “safely” under light pretense, but I still find it more valuable to his situation versus ours.

  Will resituates one of the bags on the boy’s shoulder. “You want to come with us? If you want, we can make a claim for a detour.”

  Alex finds himself warming up to the idea, especially once Will playfully messes with his hair. “Yes.”

  The vibration in the shelter becomes that of deft preparation and commitment. We neatly organize where our supplies are packed, with me loading them up to their clips and locking them down to safety mode.

  Let’s hope we don’t have to use these where they shouldn’t have to be acquired.

  “Gary, I think we’re good,” Ashton states.

  “Then, that settles it. Let’s move to the truck.”

  Some of us move slower than the rest, which I believe comes from feeling gloom about leaving the shelter, for what’s being considered the final time.

  I’ll make sure it’s not because we’re not alive to come back to it. If it’s the biggest mission any group of C. has done, then hopefully the reward is worth it. We’re not leaving to die. No one is dying under my watch again.

  Ashton is the last one remaining inside. He looks at his journal, throwing out a shocked, “It’s December 24th today?”

  Christmas Eve…it’s the first Christmas since the world changed.

  I give an expression of being shaken awake to how long it’s truly been for us.

  He and I have been together since the very first day we self-evacuated from California. My Christmas gift to him at that time was letting him move in with me at my home. He needed a place of caring and compassion. That first and only week he was there did volumes of rehabilitation for him.

  What gift could I give him this year that is just as meaningful? Perhaps, just us staying side by side, healthy, and alive, brother-in-arms, would be enough. The gift of giving hope and friendliness would be more than plenty for me.

  Ashton seals the doors shut, not even closing the front outdoor lock, nor the inside one. Under the crunching of my feet, I can faintly make out from him, “We give up what we get. Christmas has been like that for me.” He energetically smacks the doors with his elbow.

  We are officially out of a place again. There’s no other way to put it. We have each other, and they’re home enough for me. I used to have a home of my own, without anyone in it. Looking back, it was empty for me, not having ones I could be close to.

  Chapter XIV

  (Lissie)

  I decided to let Alex be in the last space of the truck’s seat.

  Here I sit in the back, uncomfortable because I’m continuously gripping the truck’s body when we drive uphill. When passing the RV, I see it’s maintained the body of a war vehicle relic.

  Whatever would be good of it has either been taken or disregarded.

  The remaining tires that were intact seem to have been jacked. I thought the side-view mirrors would be good as a survival tool, but others didn’t think about it like I would.

  I can say the thing I’d appreciate a lot is not having to be reminded of where we came from every time we head down this path. Though I was already getting okay accepting its status becoming...irrelevant.

  I decide to look down at the truck’s bed, when the jolting movement around me makes my nausea emerge. Something else emerges when I glance over to Gary’s sheath and sword inside it. I go ahead and let it rest on my lap.

  I can feel a decent amount of weight on this weapon of his. He lugs it almost everywhere he goes. And, here I’ve been placing more stress on his back along with it.

  “I don’t think I’m wrong to be distressed from leaving it behind, am I?” I ask myself, inaudibly, but my mouth is fully aware of what’s coming out of it. “Gary’s sweet for wanting us to be together as much as possible…so why do I feel…controlled? No, he’s not that kind of controlling ass.”

  I need to remind myself that there’s a reason definitions like “aggressive” and “assertive” exists, so someone like me won’t label their boyfriend the incorrect word.

  I listen to how strong, but decisive, he makes the engine of the truck sound. He’s in control of the littlest things like that, but I need to recognize that doesn’t mean he has no appreciation for when something, or someone, has a responsibility to him to question when it’s too blurry to really know.

  Truly, Gary, do you appreciate me more when I think differently? Isn’t that what a healthy relationship is all about? To challenge the other? Or, am I just used to the type where it’s volatile left and right? Am I subconsciously looking for means to see that come out of you?

  We stop to the first roadblock ahead of us. Gary’s voice is firm, but non-intimidating.

  How would others, more vicious than him, look at his behavior? Is his lack of visible aggression the reason why he’s been picked on by several?

  I think of the moments his more “savage” personality leaked out of him. The time with Will, the time of Jacob and Mitchell’s unpaid-for deaths, and the time where we all could’ve been killed by those ambushers.

  He made immediate change because of it.

  When I got upset with him shortly after Will’s abandonment, it wasn’t because of how fierce he showed himself, but it was how in control of himself he seemed.

>   “So what, Lissie? You would rather see a brute in him, incapable of being a master of chaos, versus how he is now?” I ask myself, once the engine of the truck begins again to surpass my volume. “No!” I argue back. “I’m just still new to his kind of behavior. It’s not the kind I thought any man could have, mainly because of the exposure I had to a great variety of them. They were all angry, and all inconsiderate.”

  Maybe this is a good thing that we’re going together. Our relationship is still fresh, even with the level of intimacy we’ve created. I’m still new to his personality, character, and who he is just as Gary—not our leader, and not a survivor.

  Even without looking, I know the momentary stop we’ve just done is out of the ordinary for us.

  I curiously look over my shoulder to see we’ve stopped at one of the four-way intersections, because another car has simultaneously stopped to the left side of the intersection. Presumably C. members themselves. We see they head straight down the road we’re turning on.

  Gary can still follow driving rules. He’s truly not the douche who would justify the apocalypse for his lack of patience or unfriendliness.

  I say to myself, disappointment projected all over my muffled tone, “I need to keep in mind that’s what true manliness is.”

  The trip ends shortly after. We catch up to that car, finally seeing several of them parked all in front of the supervisor’s roadblock. There are some groups simply waiting at attention in silence, but then there are those less hushed.

  The “macho” men in one group rev their car while in park, taking much pleasure when someone from a group away from theirs demands them to be quiet.

  “Unless you’re C., I’m not listening to your punk-ass,” a man with a bandana wrapped on his head says.

  As Gary gets us a free spot, it reveals my presence to them. One in the bandana man’s group smacks his shoulder to catch his attention, and then points in my direction.

  “Whew!” bandana man loudly responds, while removing his goofy shades off of his face.

  Dammit.

  Chapter XV