The Meek (Unbound Trilogy Book 1)

by J. D. Palmer

  I laugh a bitter laugh. I just want the chance to hold Jessica and my baby.

  I am coming back, I swear. I promise you I’m trying.

  Chapter 22

  I must have dozed. I bolt upright as the door is ripped open, eyes blinded by the sudden light. Hands grip my arms and I’m jerked from the shed. It’s early morning, a grey pall covering the horizon to the east where the town of Mojave used to be.

  Theo is one of the men who escorts me inside the clubhouse. His face is still swollen, one eye squinting abnormally. He doesn’t look at me.

  The tables are all the same except one has been turned sideways to face the rest with Don presiding at its head. There is a chair in front of him that I am thrust into. The rest of the men watch silently. I spot the brothers and Wing and give them a terse smile. They look grim.

  Well fuck.

  There is a murmur from the crowd and I look up to see Jimmy leading Beryl into the room. She doesn’t look at the men. Her eyes seem to look through the wall ahead of her. She sits in the front row, removed by a few spaces from the nearest person. Jimmy takes a chair and sits next to Don.

  After motioning for silence Don stands. He looks smug. Bastard has gotten cleaned up for this. Freshly shaved and hair slicked back. He wears a goddamn tie.

  “This shouldn’t take too long. You’ve trusted me with handling matters for awhile now and I hope you trust me still. I’ll say my piece and then if anyone else wants to talk they can. Soon as we are done talking we will vote. Majority rules. Simple as that.”

  There is no sound and he takes it as acceptance. He moves to the front of the table and leans against it. He partially obscures Jimmy, something he no doubt intended to do.

  “Here is the situation, boys. The world ended.” Some of the men laugh and he smiles indulgently. “The world ended, it sure did. But we did not. We survived. And we’ve kept surviving. How? Because we are strong. Because we keep each other strong. And because we are willing to do hard things.” His voice gets hard. “The world fucking ended. And we can’t do things like we used to. We can’t be weak.” He raises his hands and gestures to the men. “We can rebuild civilization. And we will. And we, the survivors, will make it right.”

  Men thump on the table at his words. Dammit he is a good showman.

  I sneak a glance at Jimmy. He is listening intently, no expression on his face. He has been so caught up with his daughter that I wonder if this is the first time he is seeing Don in his element.

  He gestures to Jimmy. “This man, this great man, to be sure, brought us hope. We have electricity. We have power. Look around you, we have built so much.” Cheers at this. He drops his voice to a hush. “The burden of rebuilding has fallen on our shoulders and we cannot shirk our duty. It’s going to be hard. We have responsibilities.” He turns to Beryl, gives her a fatherly smile. “We have a responsibility to protect those who need it. To give them a home, to treat them like family.”

  He pauses, rubbing the bridge of his nose theatrically, as if he is about to speak of something that pains him. The men hang on his every word.

  “Let us speak openly and plainly. Sometimes, you know, I think maybe the world would still be running smoothly if there had been more of that. So let’s be honest with each other. I have spoken of responsibilities.” He surveys the room, holding eye contact with everyone in turn. “We have a debt to mankind. To rebuild. To not let our species fade away. And we men cannot do that alone. We need our better halves.”

  Twenty sets of eyes dart to Beryl to see her response. She doesn’t move, not even a twitch. Once again I marvel at her poise.

  Don holds up placating hands even though no one has spoken. “I’m not talking about forcing anyone to do anything that they don’t want to do. I’m talking about the greater good. I’m talking about giving this place and its people a chance.”

  Heads are nodding. How quickly people find ways to justify evil.

  “We have a duty to protect life, to protect everything that is precious. This man,” he gestures to me, “would keep it for himself, even if it meant killing it.”

  I didn’t think he would be able to come out and say it. To admit to wanting to keep Beryl there at all costs, even if it meant using force. And he did it in a way that sounded logical. ‘The greater good.’ ‘Responsibilities.’ ‘Protect everything that is precious.’ The men in the room agree. Maybe morally they see that this is wrong but Don has given them an out. Demanded they trust that this is for mankind. For a future that would be far worse without them in it. They are with him and I don’t know if I would stand against him should I have happened to be just another stranger in the room. I hope I would have had the balls.

  Don starts listing off my crimes. “He took playful jests and twisted them into a reason to fight, and seriously hurt one of our members. He refuses to work with others. And he kidnapped someone very important to us. She could have died.” He looks at me as he says it, a father scolding a wayward child. I want to yell, to refute all of these claims. But I have to trust that I will get a chance. The moment I let my anger out is the moment they put me down on the spot.

  “He is jealous. He considers Beryl his.” He allows a little anger to color his voice as he points a long finger at me. “He would hover at her shoulder day and night, refusing to let her mingle with the rest of us for fear that she might find some happiness without him. Beryl deserves better.”

  I don’t like the way he says her name. I’ve seen drunk men in bars say a woman’s name that way.

  He scans the room, opens his hands. “So what do we do? He can’t stay here. But we can’t just expel him. Do we spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders? Waiting for him to come back and get his petty revenge?”

  Don starts to get emotional. I am in awe. He believes in what he is saying and I find myself empathizing. He is right. Fuck me. What he is doing is wrong but from his shoes I’d do the same. I’m the guy who believes that his clan is the exception. My clan? Is what is best for Beryl and best for me the detriment of mankind? Possibly. Is it selfish for me to want more for both of us? In this case it’s another yes.

  Fuck ‘em.

  They lay cornerstones for buildings right at the top of the foundation, the place that not only holds weight but can be seen for years to come so people can see its importance. This is a cornerstone and maybe this moment saves the human race. For all I know Beryl is one of two women left alive. But I don’t want the rebuilding of civilization to be based around this. If that’s the case then maybe we deserve to die out.

  I feel better thinking that. Maybe we deserve to be wiped out. That’s the dark side of my family coming out. We laughed at funerals. All of us, drunk or not, we laughed. Why not? My family knew the deceased would rather see that than weeping. I know I’m smiling now and I know I’m fucked.

  It’s not hard to see, I played a lot of chess.

  What are my moves? I tell them that Beryl is my friend. I tell them we’ve been through a lot together and that I was trying to protect her. She doesn’t speak. I look like the violent and crazed man who has terrified her into silence.

  I tell them that what they are doing is wrong. I tell them that this woman is scarred enough as it is. I tell them that everyone deserves a choice. They see a selfish bastard preventing them from saving mankind.

  I tell them I’ll leave and no one would believe me. If I was them I’d shoot me. It’s the logical conclusion. No wonder John and Steven look so depressed.

  There is silence and I realize a question was directed at me. “Do you wish to say anything in your defense?”

  I wish I had something for Don’s smug face.

  I stand up. I’m getting used to stacking moments, savoring the small things before I die. I got out of the last one. Somehow. It’s not looking good here. I feel a breeze from outside. I can tell it’s going to rain soon. I see the unified creasing of distressed foreheads from the brothers. From Wing. I see that Theo is examining his hands. I smell bee
r and kerosene and blood. I have calluses on my hands and my mind is clear.

  “Beryl is my friend. She is the strongest person I know. She has gone through enough pain to last a lifetime and I ask that you don’t add to it.” I say the words to the group but I look at her. “I don’t have a defense against what Don said. I think you all know he is wrong. But you’ll let him do it anyways.” Some heads drop, most just glare at me. “We ran because we knew this moment would come. And now it has and this man is simply arguing for a postponed rape. If you think that’s what will save us, save mankind… Then kill me now. I want no part of it.”

  Silence follows and I sit down. Wing leaps to his feet. “We can’t do this. He is right! It’s wrong and if you kill him then you’ll—”

  He is jerked down into his seat by Steven. John stands up. “I think that we should hold a discussion about Beryl’s role, and her CHOICES, in another discussion. Right now we are deciding whether or not my friend lives or dies.” He is so calm right now. Everyone is so calm. Casually talking about whether or not to kill me.

  What is this?

  “Don mentioned that we cannot let him go. Why not? If we drive him far enough way…”

  A cacophony of voices rise to argue. They’ve seen my madness, none of them trust me not to come back here and kill them in their sleep. I wonder if I would do that. Stupid thing to ponder, I should try to think of something more positive before I die. I try to think of home as they argue around me. I think of the green grass in my front yard. Thicker, more earthy and verdant than any other grass. Wholesome. I imagine lying on my back in it, Jessica curled up next to me as our small boy chases ants.

  “I will kill myself before I give any of you a child. I will kill the first man who touches me.”

  Voices slow, everyone turns to Beryl. She isn’t meeting anyone’s eyes, still staring straight ahead at the far wall. Her shoulders are tense and her jaw muscles clench and unclench. One hand is twisted into her sweatshirt at her side, knuckles white with tension.

  Don steps towards her and she flinches. He holds out a placating hand.

  “What did you say?”

  There is a long silence as her mouth begins to form words and then abandons them. I go and sit next to her, lending what strength I have. She is able to exhale another shaky sentence, barely audible. “I will kill myself before I give any of you a child. I will do my best… to kill the first man…. the first man who touches me.”

  Don’s face contorts. This wasn’t part of his plan. Slowly he smoothes his features, hiding the anger and putting on his best paternal concern. “Of course, you need time to become part of the community here. That’s all we are saying. We are here to protect you until that time comes. But that is something that we can discuss at another time.”

  “No it is not.” Jimmy speaks from his chair. Relaxed, genuine, he holds the room with his quiet certainty. “We will not force this girl to do anything she does not want to, even if it is for the ‘greater good.’ That will not be the legacy of this place.”

  Don starts to argue but Jimmy holds up a hand. “My daughter is going to die. But if she wasn’t I hope that she wouldn’t be held here to serve as a broodmare.” He scans the crowd and men shy away from his eyes. The future despoiling of his daughter has been thought of, at least by a few. He turns to me. “You both are free to leave.”

  Don rounds on him, snarling. “You don’t have the power to do that!”

  Jimmy leans back, puzzled. “I believe I do. Without me this place shuts down, or have you forgotten?” Don is silent. Jimmy looks out at the men, eyebrows raised. “They will not be hindered, or followed, or further troubled by us. If I find out that anyone harms them, they will be expelled from here. Forever.” He scans the crowd. “Does anyone have anything else to say?” The room is quiet.

  “Then it is settled. Harlan, Beryl, I apologize for this.” He stands up and starts to walk out of the hushed room. He turns, “Beryl, before you go perhaps you could say goodbye to my daughter?” Beryl nods and he leaves the room. Silence before Don storms out after him.

  Wing runs up and slaps me on the back. He doesn’t say much, the shadow of death still hovering too close to allow much joy to seep through. John offers me a gruff handshake, as if he just successfully won a case in court. I barely notice. I don’t feel like this is over. The men haven’t dispersed, instead clumping in small groups and conversing quietly. I see many throw looks at Beryl, sideways glances that reek of anger. She rejected them outright. They don’t know her history, they believe she simply thinks herself as superior. Too precious to waste on them. Too disgusted by them to give them a chance.

  We need to leave soon.

  I walk with Beryl and the brothers outside, Wing trailing. “Are you guys going to be okay here? Doubt you’ll be popular with the rest of the guys since you helped send us away.”

  Steven shrugs. John ponders it a moment. “I don’t think so. Honestly I don’t think any of these guys wanted to kill you. They wanted to see you shamed, I think, and I think they wanted Beryl to stay. But they wanted her to want to stay, you know?”

  I disagree, but I know there won’t be any swaying him. There is a silence now. A moment in which I look at John and a question I don’t want to ask forms on my lips.

  “Did you tell them that we left?”

  His face hardens, real pain in the look he gives me.

  “How could you ask that? You are… You both are family to me.”

  I nod, reassured, but he steps closer, almost panicked.

  “You believe me, right? I would never do that. I have no idea how they found you.”

  I believe him. And I feel horrible for having to ask. But I needed to know for sure.

  I put a hand on his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

  I give them another round of hugs although I can tell John is still troubled. Trust is no small thing. And in this new world it can be everything.

  Is it gone, now?

  I hold out a hand to Wing, but he shakes his head and grins. “You can’t sneak away again. I’m coming with.” Beryl raises an eyebrow at me.

  “Okay. We leave in an hour.”

  He runs off and Beryl and I cross the grass to Jimmy’s condo. Beryl grabs my hand and holds it as we walk. She is shaking a little bit and I feel how tense my own shoulders are. We are bonded together by so much pain, it’s a relief that we have each other to share our fear. I squeeze her hand, our fingers entwined, and for the first time I start feeling guilt. There is nothing romantic between us, but there is an indelible link. A bond that I hold dear and would be loath to break. I can only hope Jessica will understand.

  I stumble, feet tripping on a clump of grass. I weave as the ground turns to jelly beneath my feet. What the hell…? Beryl and I break apart as we struggle to maintain our balance, the grass suddenly as treacherous as a ship at sea. There is a howl, as if from a distant wind, punctuated by creaks and groans and the shouts from men.

  I don’t know what to do. Beryl and I crouch in the grass, hands grasping at green turf as if holding onto the mane of a wild horse that is desperate to shake us off. The buildings undulate back and forth and glass explodes from a row of houses. Metal screeches and wood snaps as a rift appears in the middle of a building. The howling is louder and I’m tossed onto my side, Beryl’s knee hits me in the shoulder as we are tossed about, dolls in the hands of some child God.

  I hear yelling and I see Chris stumbling across the sand. His elbow juts out at an odd angle and lacerations criss-cross his face. He is screaming, eyes wild, and he walks like a drunkard who does not know where to go. I see a clump of men scrambling towards a car. They climb in and the driver races away before everyone is inside. He does not go far before the front tires dip into a break in the road. The axle cracks and I see the driver staring blankly at the blood-smeared airbag in front of him. Behind the car the mountain side lets go of its hold on a cluster of rocks. Stone and dirt form a wave as they roar and foam down
the steep hill and flow out over the far part of the solar panel field.

  Beryl is clutching at my leg and I roll over. The irrigation unit is cracked and dark water gushes out to soak the grass. The soil is gurgling and water hisses, slurping and gurgling in and out of the ground around us to the beat of some unseen heart.

  And then it’s over.

  We sit up and take stock of the land around us as our hearts thrum in our ears and adrenaline pulses through our bodies. Water seeps from old sprinklers and pools in pocks and craters as the land settles into a new shape. Dust is in the air and halos the buildings. The air is deadly still, hotter than I remember it being, cloyed with tension or foul gases or both. Fissures and gaps mark roads and buildings alike.

  Men stumble out of doorways or stand up from where they took cover and a couple lie still on the ground. They call to each other and people hunt for their friends.

  Beryl and I head for Jimmy’s condo. The door is open and we walk up stairs covered with paint chips and dust shook loose from hidden nooks twenty years old.

  Upstairs is a disaster. Broken glass is everywhere, blasted from windows and pictures and lightbulbs. Jimmy’s office door is open and I hear him yelling accompanied by a heavy banging. Oh fuck. We hustle into the bedroom. The doctor is sitting on the bed, a cloth soaked in blood held to his temple. He watches Jimmy in a daze, as if trying to comprehend what the man is doing. Jimmy has a hammer and is tearing at the door to the panic room. It’s not locked anymore, but the frame has been twisted, the heavy door squeezed hard into one corner while a gap has appeared opposite of it. I can hear Evelyn crying and she calls out for her dad. She keeps saying please and Jimmy yells “I’m coming” and he hammers harder.

  I look around for a tool but I can’t find anything. I’m about to tell him to give me the hammer so I can come at the door with fresh energy when he starts screaming at Evelyn.