Cattle (The Fearlanders)

by Joseph Duncan

  Now he was sitting here wondering which of the women would approach him and frightened that he wouldn’t be able to perform because sex was all messed up with dying in his mind. Naomi, Trisha, Ashley—all his past lovers were dead. He had killed Ashley himself, shortly after they found one another. She had contracted the Phage and attacked him one evening when he came back to their shelter from a supply run. He had kicked her feet out from under her as she rushed him, snarling and gnashing her teeth, then smashed in her skull with a cinderblock.

  Jamie rose and took one of the women by the hand. “Come on,” he leered.

  The other looked Brent over curiously, but nodded at Ian instead. The skinny young man rose from the card table and accompanied her into the butcher’s station without speaking.

  That left the young one.

  She stared at Brent with wide and frightened doe eyes, chewing on her thumbnail with renewed vigor. Brent wanted to speak to her, say something comforting, but he could not find the words. He had never been the most eloquent man. An athlete, he had always expressed himself in sports, with physical activity. He knew he needed to say something, though, because she looked like she was frightened half to death.

  “What’s your name?” he finally stammered. He could feel himself blushing and was glad he was standing in shadow.

  She removed her thumb from her mouth. “Roo,” she said. She turned her shoulder toward him and smiled. “My real name is Ruth… but my mom and dad always called me Roo. My dad said I jumped a lot when I was a baby.”

  She didn’t look far removed from her baby years now. Frowning, Brent asked, “How old are you, Roo?”

  “Fourteen. I think.”

  Brent jerked back as if the girl had taken a swing at him. “Oh, no, no, no,” he said, shaking his head.

  A panicked expression came over the girl’s face. “You have to! They’re going to kill me if I don’t get pregnant this time. Cooley already said so. I’ve been here almost a year now, and I still haven’t gotten pregnant!”

  Brent covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide.

  She stepped quickly toward the table, looking back over her shoulder in fear. “Please,” she hissed in a low voice. “You have to! Maybe… maybe you can get me pregnant. The others guys have tried, but none of them can do it!”

  Brent lowered his hand. “Roo, I can’t! You’re too young! I’ve never been with a fourteen-year-old. Not even when I was fourteen myself! It’s not right!”

  The girl’s big eyes swam with tears. “Girls used to get married all the time when they were fourteen, back in the olden days! That’s what Maudelle told me.”

  “That was different—“

  “Now is different, too!” the girl said angrily. “If you don’t, they’re going to kill me and eat me!” And now the tears came. They spilled down her cheeks like tiny jewels.

  Brent’s eyes stung in sympathy. He ducked his head. “All right,” he sighed. “All right. I’ll try.”

  Roo melted with relief. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She touched his face tentatively, withdrew her hand when he jumped. “What’s your name?” she asked. Her fingers hovered near him, but she was not quite bold enough to touch him again.

  “Brent,” he said, not looking up.

  “Are you nice, Brent?” she asked. “Jamie isn’t nice. He hurts.”

  “I don’t know if I’m nice or not,” he said after a moment. “I’ll try to be nice.”

  “The girls all hate Jamie,” Roo whispered conspiratorially. “They like Vickers and Ian just fine, but not Jamie. Some of them talk about killing him.”

  Brent looked up.

  Glancing toward the butcher’s station, Roo leaned in. “While he’s… you know, on top.”

  “How?” Brent whispered back.

  “They have a knife. A… shiv. Maudelle keeps it. One of these nights they’re going to smuggle it in here, and then…” She leaned back with a vindictive grin.

  “Forty-five minutes!” the guard called out.

  Brent gathered his resolve and took her hand. “Come on,” he said, and he tried to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn’t easy. Back in college, Naomi had been a member of Speak Out, an activist group that passed out educational material about sexual victimization. Her group had counseled female students who’d been raped, and crusaded against the culture of misogyny perpetuated by the campus fraternities. Brent had pitched in when he could and found it to be a gratifying experience, though he was horrified by the number of young women who had been victimized on campus. Some of them had been raped repeatedly since childhood by one perpetrator after another. And then, when Naomi confessed that her older stepbrother had molested her when she was twelve years old, he swore to himself he would never look at a young girl that way. Naomi’s quiet, embarrassed confession had shaken him to his core, wounded him in a way that was primal and raw, and never seemed to heal.

  And now…

  Things are different now, he thought. Just like Roo said. And if I don’t, if she doesn’t get pregnant….

  He led her through the swinging door. It was too dark to see what was going on in the other cubicles, but he could hear it, the thumping and moaning, the soft slap of flesh upon flesh. He had moved his mattress into the far corner earlier, placing it near Ian’s cubicle. It was sitting right out in the open, in clear view of all three cubicles, but at least it was dark.

  One of the women cried out—and not in a good way.

  Brent heard Jamie laugh, and his partner whined, “That’s not funny, Jamie! That hurt!”

  They should give me the shiv, Brent thought. I’ll do it for them!

  He considered telling Roo that, making the offer, but no… not yet. He didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize his survival. Not until he’d learned the ropes, figured out what he might and might not be able to get away with here. And not until he was sure the man was truly deserving of it. Just because a guy was an asshole didn’t mean he needed killing.

  “Over here,” he said as Roo fumbled after him. She was waving her free hand back and forth, searching in the dark for obstructions.

  He stumbled over the mattress himself then, and guided her down to it. He sat beside her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. He could feel her trembling.

  “Are you?” she replied, and he realized she could feel him trembling, too.

  “Yes,” he said. “I, uh, it’s been a long time since I… and you’re so…”

  He heard the rustle of fabric, saw something pale move dimly through his field of vision. “I’ve done it before,” she said in a mildly scolding tone. “I’m not a child, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ve done it with all three of them. Vickers, Ian, and Jamie. None of them can get me pregnant, but you will. I’m going to pray that you do.”

  “Jesus…”

  He felt her lay back on the mattress. She lay there while he tried to calm his nerves, slow his galloping heart. Finally, she sat up and asked, “Do you need some help? With getting a hard-on, I mean?”

  Brent laughed. “No! Maybe... I don’t know.”

  She lay back again.

  Brent raised his butt and pushed his boxers down his thighs. He slid them down his legs and over his feet and set them aside. He slid around and lay down beside her, feeling her lanky body next to his. She was thin, bony really, with no discernible curves. It was like lying next to a boy. Not exactly a turn on for him, but he would never say such a thing to Roo. It would hurt her feelings.

  He realized she was whispering something very softly under her breath. He leaned toward her to hear what she was saying and realized she was praying-- just as she said she would do. “Please, God, let me get pregnant,” she whispered, over and over, very rapidly. “PleaseGodletmegetpregnantpleaseGodletmegetpregnant…” It all but made his penis invert.

  “Thirty minutes!” the guard’s voice rang out.

  “Do you want to lie on top of me?” Roo asked.

 
; “Okay,” he said, and he rolled over onto her. He felt her legs open for him.

  “What’s the matter? Why aren’t you hard?” she asked, which was about as conducive to getting an erection as praying to God she got knocked up.

  Before he could respond, Vickers let out an ear-splitting roar. He sounded like a bear that had just gotten shot with a tranquilizer gun. Brent and Roo both jumped, and then they started giggling, first Brent, then the girl. They both tried to smother their laughter. For a couple minutes, they just laid there, their bodies clasped together, as their stomachs and chests shook with restrained mirth.

  “Who’s laughing?” Vickers called out. “What’s so funny?”

  That just made them laugh all the harder, and quite before he knew that anything was happening down below, Brent’s half-erect member slipped partially inside of her.

  “Oh, baby… Oh, I’m so, so sorry,” he murmured, pressing his cheek to hers. It felt good, and he felt so terribly ashamed that it felt good, and that his body was responding despite his embarrassment, swelling, stiffening, until he was almost painfully erect.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered in his ear. “I need you to save me. Get me pregnant, Brent. I don’t want to die.”

  “All right,” he said, and he started to move. “I’ll do my best.”

  He was finished before the guard called out again.

  17. Bedtime

  “Time’s up!” the guard yelled through the door, but Ian and his partner were the only ones who weren’t already waiting in the common area. Brent and Roo, Vickers, Jamie, and the two women they had bedded had already concluded their business for the evening. They were sitting around the card table, talking in low voices. A couple of them were smoking. At the guard’s summons, the women rose from their seats and shuffled toward the door, their heads bowed.

  Roo jumped up from Brent’s lap. She had insisted on sitting on his knee. It had made him a little uncomfortable, but he had acquiesced. He still felt very guilty about what he’d done.

  “Thank you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I hope it works this time. I think it will. I prayed the whole time.”

  “Ian!” Vickers yelled, leaning back in his seat. “Wrap it up, kid!”

  The cell door rattled and swung open, and a zombie stamped into their quarters. It didn’t come inside far, just stood inside the doorway, waiting impatiently for the women. “Quickly!” it snapped, whapping a billy club against its palm. Its olive colored uniform hung off its skeletal body. In the murk, it looked like a horrible animated scarecrow.

  Ian and his bedmate hurried from the butcher’s station. The girl trotted to the door. Ian slunk to the table, adjusting the waistband of his trunks.

  “Line up!” the ghoul barked, and the women obediently formed a line.

  Brent watched, appalled, as the zombie shoved its hand down the shorts of the heavyset woman, the one named Maudelle. Maudelle endured this invasion of her privacy without complaint, looking at the ceiling with a neutral expression on her face. After rooting around in her pants for a moment, the zombie withdrew its skeletal hand and sniffed its fingers. “Go on,” it croaked, pushing her through the doorway. It repeated this procedure with the next woman, and then the next. When they had all been checked, the zombie backed from the chamber, glowering at the men, then shut and locked the door.

  “Bastards,” Vickers said in a low voice. He stretched his arms above his head. “Well, gentlemen, our work here is done. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready for some shuteye.”

  Brent sat stewing in his own shame as Vickers rose and sauntered to their sleeping quarters. Ian followed, but Jamie remained behind. The real estate broker eyed Brent thoughtfully, burning his cigarette down to the filter. Finally, he spoke.

  “It’s Vickers, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “I told you—“

  “I know what you said,” the blond cut him off, upper lip curling back from his teeth. His teeth were terribly decayed-- the only thing, really, that spoiled his good looks. “I don’t buy it for a second, but that’s your story and you’re sticking to it. Hey, I get it. You’re just looking out for yourself.”

  “So what do you want from me?” Brent asked.

  “An alliance,” Jamie said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Vickers acts like a big ol’ teddy bear, but he can be dangerous. Once he realizes he’s being put out to pasture, he’s going to come after one of us. He won’t fool with Ian. Ian’s his little buddy. But he hates me, and you’re his replacement. He’ll try to take one of us out when his back comes up against the wall. He’ll be awful sorry to do it, but he’ll do it all the same, and I can’t blame him. I’d do the same thing if it was me.”

  “Maybe they plan to keep four of us now,” Brent said. “I don’t know what they’re planning to do. And neither do you. None of us do.”

  Jamie laughed, low and contemptuous. He crushed out his cigarette, smashing it into the ashtray like he held a grudge against it. “You’re a terrible liar, guy. It’s written all over your face. You may not like me. I know I’m not the most likeable guy in the world, but the smart thing for us to do is form an alliance. Maybe… think about taking Vickers out before he decides to do the same to you or me.”

  “Kill him?” Brent hissed, leaning toward the man so the others didn’t hear.

  “Yeah, kill him,” Jamie whispered emphatically. “It’s a dog eat dog world, guy. Literally. Has been since the Phage went down. It was like that before the Phage, really, only people didn’t want to admit it. Not me, though. Back in the old days, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to close a deal. Lie, cheat, stab my friends in the back. That was my living. That was survival. It isn’t any different now, only the stakes are higher. I mean to survive as long as I can, live out the rest of my life as best as I can. If you’re smart, you’ll do the same. I assume you’re smart, surviving as long as you have. So team up with me, guy. Vickers is a big man. He’s gotten fat from sitting on his ass, just fucking and eating for the last five years, but he’s strong as an ox, and he knows how to fight. It’s going to take two of us to fight him off when he decides to make his move. One on one, neither of us stand a chance against him.”

  Brent ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at the table. “Let me think about it,” he said finally.

  Jamie took that as an agreement. He leaned back with a grin. “It’s a deal, then. He goes after you, I back you up. And you do the same for me.”

  Brent looked at him but didn’t reply.

  “It’s not so bad here, if you think about it,” Jamie said. “The retirement plan is pretty shitty, but we have food and shelter, and the deadheads keep us in cigarettes and pussy. What did you have out there living on your own?”

  Brent could think of two things right off the top of his head: freedom and self-respect. But he didn’t say so aloud. He knew Jamie would just laugh at such sentimentality, and he wasn’t exactly sure he could blame the guy for it. A man can’t eat freedom. Self-respect wouldn’t keep him warm on cold winter nights when the wind was screaming and the temperature dropped twenty below freezing. But could he accept the horrors of this place? That was the real question. He might be able to live in a place like this, but could he live with himself?

  “Think about it,” Jamie said, rising from his chair. He tapped the table with his fingertips, then sauntered to the butcher’s station and vanished through the swinging door.

  Brent sat there for several minutes, listening to the women on the other side of the partition. Their low conversation was a monotonous hum, like traffic on a distant highway. Somewhere nearby a woman was singing a lullaby. She had a beautiful soprano voice, soft and quavering. It reminded him of his mother’s singing. Someone was coughing. Someone else called out in an irritable voice, “Just leave it alone, I said!” Laughter. Crying.

  Through a chink in the wall, a woman whispered, “You should do it.”

  Brent jumped a little. He rose an
d approached the partition. “Muriel?” he whispered.

  “Take Jamie’s offer,” Muriel said. “He might be an asshole, but he’s right about Vickers. You won’t be able to beat him if he decides to take you out.”

  Brent sat on the floor beside the wall. He leaned his head toward the gap that Muriel was speaking through. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he said. “I like Vickers.”

  “I like him too, but you may not have a choice,” Muriel said.

  “Maybe I should just let him kill me,” Brent said. “I don’t know if I want to live in a place like this. It’s too… horrible.”

  “That’s your choice, of course. I wouldn’t condemn anyone who decided to check out early. But you’re a nice guy. I’d hate to see you die. Just remember, I’ve escaped from this place three times now. They’ve caught me every time, but I’ve always been pregnant. It’s hard to run when you’re pregnant. But this place isn’t exactly Alcatraz, Brent. Once I just slipped under the fence and took off running. They took a group of us outside for some exercise, I saw a gap at the bottom of the fence, and I went for it.”

  Brent chuckled. “How far did you get before they caught you?”

  “Oh, just down to the end of the block that time,” she said. “But that isn’t the point. They let the men outside too, sometimes. You’ll get your chance. You still might make it Home someday… if you don’t give up hope.”

  “All right,” Brent said, nodding. “I won’t give up yet.”

  “Good night, sweetheart,” Muriel said. “I’m going to bed.”