Chapter Eight
Two months into our trip we start to conserve our dried food and rely on hunting and fishing for our daily meals. Judea says this is the Tennessee state line. We set up camp for the night and me and Titus are tracking a pack of feral pigs. After the people died off, there was no one to tend to the livestock. Animals are tending themselves. We corner a fat sow and her litter against the rocky face of a cliff. I aim my bow and I put her down with a clean head shot. The piglets run off before I can grab one.
“Well, well, well. Look, I found someone's stash.” My brother says pointing to several tall plants growing high in the rocks.
“Leave it Titus, let's go. It’ll be dark soon.” I climb down from my saddle and unhook my machete. I hack at the pig’s hind quarters as my brother scales the wall. Jude told me, and I quote, no fucking around, Dumani. Make a kill and come right back. What Titus is doing surely qualifies as fucking around. Jude uses such vulgar language. I shake my head.
“Stop playing around, Titus. Let's get the meat and head back.”
He ignores me. I put two haunches into a burlap bag and tie it to my saddle. I shield my eyes to see how far my brother has gotten up the cliff. He's picking plants and shoving them into his shirt. I get on my horse to ride away. Titus hits the ground four feet away from me with a loud crack. He’s too hurt to cry so he stares at me in wide-eyed shock. His snowy white leg bone is poking through the skin below the knee.
“Goddamn it, Titus. You are going to lose that leg. Why couldn't you just listen to me for once? He’s going to blame me for this.”
I swore out loud. I never swear out loud. I try not to think about swear words in my head but I think about them anyway. Titus is too messed up to notice.
“Get help Goddamn it.” He grinds between his teeth.
“I can't leave you here with that dead pig. You will be eaten before I get back.” I slap my horse’s rump and he takes off back to camp. I kneel beside my brother shaking my head.
“Was it worth it?” I ask him.
“It will be when it dries out and I can smoke it. Ahhh!” The pain kicks in.
I wait for Father. That’s all I can do. He's the doctor, not me. My brother lays screaming for thirty minutes begging me to kill him. I am considering putting him out of his misery when I hear horse hooves pounding the earth. Father jumps down before his horse comes to a complete stop. Jude has a look of relief on his face when he sees that it is my brother in need of medical attention and not me. He’s leading my horse.
“How in the hell did you do this, boy? You banged your leg up pretty good.”
“I fell off my horse.” Titus lies with tears coursing down his face. Father gets his first aid kit from his saddlebag. He takes out a needle and a vial of clear liquid.
“It's morphine. We have to knock him out to throw him over his horse.” He injects Titus without warning. My brother is laughing a minute later and asleep seconds after that. Father and the three men pull on his leg and put the bone back inside of the skin where it is supposed to be. I get sick to my stomach watching it. I feel my brother’s pain like my own. They toss him face down on his horse and Father takes the reins leading it back to camp. There is a fire burning so I go about slicing off pieces of meat to fry up. Father and Jude tend to Titus. They clean his wound and sew it up after Father is sure the bones are as straight as he’s going to get them. Buck and Joe ride off in search of two boards for a splint. They come back an hour later with two sections of what was someone’s pretty picket fence. After dinner, they sit around the fire talking.
“Titus needs more antibiotics than what I have. If he gets an infection, he’ll die. Two of us will ride into Memphis and see what we can find. Duma will go along to be an extra gun.”
“The last time Duma helped, she almost died. She stays, I’ll go.” Jude argues.
“She isn't your wife yet, Hamilton. You don't say where she goes, I do. But, I respect your loyalty. She stays here. You and Buck can ride out at dawn and spend the day searching. Be back here before nightfall. Don't get caught in the city after dark.”
“Just the two of them? They need the girl.”
“You’re right, they need a third person. You can go with them.”
“Me? I don't want to go.” Joe refuses like the coward he is. “She’s here to help.”
“You'd send a woman in your place? Should she marry your wives too after you’re dead, you pussy?”
“You have the tongue of a viper, Jude Hamilton. There is a bed waiting for you in hell.”
“Better be bunkbeds because one of them is for you, coward.”
“I am no coward. I am a Deacon. I’ll be needed to save souls after all of this is over. What use is that one?”
“Duma will give me sons and take care of my home. You have five daughters with weak necks and crooked backs. What use are you?”
“God cursed my wives for thinking impure thoughts and sinning against him!”
“God cursed you for marrying your cousins.” Jude says.
“You, insubordinate demon!”
“Incestuous fool.”
“The bible says a man of God should not marry outside of his tribe!”
“Tribe, not bloodline. You, fucking idiot.”
“Enough! He goes or he can't travel with us. Do you hear me, Joseph? You help my boy or you are on your own. Titus is my strongest son and he’ll carry on my name. If he dies, you die.” Father promises.
I want to tell Father that I want to go with Jude. I want to be there if he needs me or if something goes wrong. I want to watch over him. What if he doesn't make it back? What will I do? I can't go home without Judea. I won't. They ride out at dawn. I wait thirty minutes and I follow with my bow strapped to my back, my rifle across my lap, my pistols holstered and my machete close at hand. Father is going to beat me. I don't care. I have to go. They don't notice me because I am good at going unnoticed. The rotten stench of decay rolls off of the city in rancid waves and reaches me on a perfect breeze. It would stagger a weaker woman. Someone is burning fresh bodies. I can tell they’re fresh. It smells like the pig I roasted last night. I pull down my mask. Just like every other city, the buildings have been vandalized and burned out. It looks like a scene from a horror movie. At one point, Jude looks back like he knows he’s being followed. He doesn't look back again.
They stop to speak with two plain clothed men transporting bodies in a wheel barrow. Everyone is wearing a mask except for the commoners. Their faces are dark from dirt and soot. Jude flips them each a cigarette before pushing on. They ride all day across the dead city stopping to check vacant houses and supply trucks. They steer clear of hospitals and drug stores. That’s where they will most likely find trouble. Jude raises his hand as a signal to stop. I notice a sign in the front yard of a house down the cross street and turn my mount toward it. The door is open. I lead my horse in with me. The place has been ransacked for food and supplies but something tells me to look closer. We learn to search in places one would not otherwise suspect. I pull out the mirror in the master bath and I find a stash. I fill my bags with loot. I lead my horse by the reigns when I go to find Jude. My stomach drops. The men are surrounded with their hands in the air. Jude is speaking to them but I can't hear what he is saying or get a clear view of his face. I enter an empty house through the backdoor. I leave my horse downstairs in the living room and quickly make my way up to the attic where my view is clear. I take my bow from my back and set up in the window with my rifle. There are seven of them. I adjust my scope and close one eye. Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop, Jude gets a shot off and the last one takes off running. Buck runs him down and puts a bullet in his back. Pop, pop. I take out two more hiding behind an old Buick. Jude's head whips around pointing his guns in my direction where the shots came from. I raise my head. He lowers the gun.
“Dumani? Goddamn it. Get down here!” He's madder than a wet cat. I am almost afraid to go to him but I won't disobey a direct order from my husband. I make my wa
y down and walk my horse around the house and across the street. I look down at my feet.
“Girl, you saved our hides again. God bless you!” Joe cries in relief.
“Does Shadrach know you followed me?” Jude demands. I shake my head no.
“I should cane you myself! Get on your horse. I’m taking you back.”
“What about Titus?” Buck tries to sound concerned but he is ready to leave the city too.
“We’ll worry about that when we get there. This is no place for a woman.”
“She handles herself pretty good.” Joe points out.
“I said we are leaving.”
We ride out at full speed and do not slow down until the smoky skyline is behind us. They argue about whose fault it was that the men snuck up on them. Joe wasn't watching their back. He was leafing through his bible.
“I was praying for the poor wretches stacked along the sidewalks!”
“We were almost three of them, you moron! You almost got us killed!”
“Ho There!” A voice calls out. We all point our guns at the man emerging from a parked SUV. His hands are in the air. There are no trees to hide an ambush. He is alone.
“I am a peaceful man! I have my wife and children in the car! We need a doctor and a safe place to spend the night. Can you point me in the right direction?”
“A doctor? Are you sick?”
“No, my boy drank some bad water and his belly is close to bursting. That's him crying. I don't want any trouble.”
“Memphis is dead. Nothing but crooks and military there.”
“Military? Did they see you?” He asks.
“Yes, why?”
“They are looking for people that were exposed and didn't get sick. My family hasn't been around the sick and we have no plan to. Are any of you sick?” He asks.
“Do we look sick? Would we be riding horses if we were sick?” Jude asks him.
“No, probably not.”
“What are they doing to the people they find?”
“Putting them into pens with sick people to see who dies and who doesn't. They think people who are immune are the key to a cure. They are offering up rewards. Land in Alaska and protection for information about anyone you know who might be immune.”
“Why are you out here?”
“I ran out of gas and we need to take cover before nightfall.”
“We can't help you.” Jude says regretfully.
“We can help them. We can't leave these people here. Where is your compassion Jude?”
“On that horse over there. She’s my priority, not strangers who could be sick. If you want to help them, stay here and help them. We’re leaving.”
“Please! Don't leave us! We aren't sick, check our temperatures. Let us come with you.”
“No. Let’s go, Duma.”
The three of us ride away without Joe. Father is pacing the camp when we ride in. He stomps right up to me and drags me off my horse. I hit the ground hard.
“You, disobedient Jezebel! You defied me to chase after this boy! You are a corrupted sinner! That girl told me what the two of you have been up to when no one is around! No good! Doing the devil's business right under my nose! You are no better than your mother!” He is beyond angry. He’s inconsolable. I am ready to accept my fate.
“That bitch is lying. I would never do that to Duma. You believe a whore's word? I never touched her! The slut has been hot for me from day one. She wants to be one of my wives, she's jealous.”
“Maybe she lied, it doesn't change the fact that Duma defied my direct orders. I told her not to go. If she defies me now, what’s to stop her from rebelling completely? Who will reign her in when she’s out of control?”
“Dumani isn’t defiant. She doesn’t have a confrontational bone in her body. She wanted to help, not run off. Stop comparing her to other people. If she hadn't followed us, we'd be dead.”
“She will be punished regardless. Someone has to keep her in line.” Father picks up his cane and points it at me. “Open the back of your dress.”
“No.” Judea steps in front of me. I am already undoing my zipper.
“Get out of my way, boy. Duma is my daughter.”
“She is a grown woman, not a little girl. I won't let you do this.”
“Move aside or your wedding is off. I will forbid it.”
I push my dress and slip down over my shoulders and drop to my knees holding it against my front. My back is crisscrossed with old scars from the other canings that I received over the years.
“This is family business, Jude. Don’t interfere.” Buck says cocking his pistol and aiming it at him. He is still bitter about the shotgun incident.
Father's first lash hurts like hell. That first one is always the worst. The one's that follow sting like fire but they aren't like that first one. Not until he breaks the skin. That last one broke the skin. He doesn't stop.
“That's enough!” Jude yells knocking the gun aside. He grabs the cane snapping it into two pieces. I am bent over with my eyes shut so that I don't cry. I can't move until Father gives me permission. He and Jude are arguing back and forth.
“Let her cover herself.”
“She will stay there until I tell her to go. Let this be a lesson to you both. Do not disobey me. I am in charge here.”
“Get up, Duma.” Jude tells me softly.
“Stay where you are, girl. He isn't your husband yet. Maybe never.”
Jude walks away and seconds later I feel a blanket fall around my shoulders.
“The next time, father or not, I will kill him.” He says before walking away.
Father makes me stay here kneeling for hours. The pain I can live with, it’s the shame that is killing me. Before, when Father or the good Reverend punished me I believed I deserved it. It was my penitence for going against God. I did disobey him but not out of spite or malice. I did it for love. I wanted to be with my husband. Maybe I deserved the whipping. To make me kneel here in front of Jude and that girl is humiliating. I need to pee and my neck hurts from being in this position for so long. Every now and then I hear Jude swear at Father and argue on my behalf. My brother’s pitiful moaning comes and goes in between doses of morphine. The camp quiets for the night and I hear the girl speaking to Jude after everyone is sleeping.
“How was I supposed to know the old man was going to beat her and make her sit like that all night? It’s your fault for treating me like shit—”
His hand connects with her face and she gasps. Now she’s crying again.
“Shut up, bitch.” He hisses at her.
“I'm sorry. I know you don’t believe me, but I am. Do you think I enjoyed watching him do that?”
“Yes, I do. You are a twisted whore. There is no limit to the shit you’re into. I don’t like you or trust you.”
I flinch when Judea’s hand rests on my shoulder.
“Baby—”
I shrug it off. He’s only making it worse.
“Don’t.” I whisper.
Hearing him call me baby makes me feel like one. It makes the pain not hurt as much. He hesitates before retreating to the spot where he was sitting. I feel him staring at me. His eyes feel like sunshine on my skin. I want to scream at him, look away. I don’t want you to see me like this. I want to tell my father how angry I am with him. I am a woman. I am not a child. I don't want to be treated like one anymore. That girl is laughing at me. Maybe not aloud, but inside she is. She likes me broken and humbled in the dirt. She wants me to be unappealing to Judea. She enjoys watching me suffer for having something that she never will. This is Father’s fault. Father is not God. He is a man with four wives and twenty children, four living. If it is so Godly and right, why do they hide the truth? I stand up and fling the blanket down. To hell with this. Jude is on his feet in an instant. My muscles are stiff from being bent over for so long. Father stands up too. Our eyes meet. I am done kneeling. He’s surprised at first. Now, he’s nervous. This is the worst kind of insubordination. I don
't care. I’ve had enough.
“What are you doing, girl? Did I tell you to get up? Return to your prayers.”
“I wasn't praying, Father. I was thinking about how much I hate you right now.”
Father’s mouth drops open. He comes toward me red faced with rage. I swing my boot knife up to meet him. I could have killed him if I wanted to. I didn't.
“What has gotten into you, Duma? Put it down right now.”
“Leave me alone. I am not kneeling or cleaning or wiping down another damn horse that isn't mine. I’m tired of this. I’m a sinner. I sin every day and I am thinking impure thoughts about Jude Hamilton right now. I am not taking another caning or making another pot of coffee.” I say kicking dirt in the pot beside the fire. Everyone is awake now and watching on with uneasy looks. Father doesn't know what to do. I've never stood up for myself before.
“You are living under my roof and you will do as you are told, girl. I will beat some obedience into you.”
“I can’t let you do that. I don’t need your roof. The sky can be my roof.”
“You are the ungrateful, ugly duckling daughter of a barren wife. Go ahead and leave.”
“I’m better off without you people anyway. You’ve been slowing me down for months.”
I pick up my pack dumping its contents on the ground at the old man’s feet. I start shoving my own things back into it.
“What is all of this?” He motions.
“Medicine that I found in town for my brother. I am taking this for myself.”
I snatch up two boxes and stow them in my bag. Father reads one of the bottles. Buck reads another.
“It says here that this here medicine is for animals. This came from a vet’s office.”
“It will work the same.” Father clutches the medical supplies in his hands like the holy grail. I think he’s going to cry. I saddle my horse wondering if anyone would ever cry over me?
“Wait, where are you going?” Father is confused.
“I’m leaving.”
The Doomsday Papers Page 8