by Perrin Briar
“Has he said anything yet?” Rupert said.
“Nothing,” Bill said. “Save a single word.”
“Chow,” Jim said, as if he could hear them.
“Chow?” Rupert said. “What does that mean?”
“We were rather hoping you could tell us,” Bill said. “Any clue?”
Rupert made an upside down U shape with his mouth.
“None,” he said. “Are you even sure that’s what he’s saying? It’s not that clear to me.”
“We’ve all listened to it and come up with the same thing,” Bill said.
“I’ve never even heard that word before,” Rupert said. “What does it even mean?”
“It has many meanings,” Bill said. “It can mean food, to eat. As in chow down. It’s a common Chinese name.”
“It’s also a move in Mahjong,” Ernest said, slowly looking up from his book.
“Mahjong?” Rupert said.
“Do you know much about the game?” Bill said.
“Not really,” Rupert said. “A couple of sailors on board The Red Flag used to play it.”
“Chow is when you discard weak tiles in order to strengthen your hand,” Ernest said. “If the chow Jim says has anything to do with Mahjong chow, I don’t really know what it might mean. Discarding something? Throwing away something worthless?”
“I didn’t even know Jim knew how to play Mahjong,” Rupert said. “I suppose there’s a lot about each other we don’t know. That’s the nature of being strangers though, isn’t it? You learn new things about each other all the time.”
“He’s sleeping now?” Rupert said.
“In a coma,” Bill said. “Losing consciousness is a strange thing. It affects people differently. Jim got struck on the side of the head, here. The area most responsible for memories and dreams. It’s a complex thing, the brain. Everyone thinks differently and uses different parts of the brain at different times. It’s as unique as a fingerprint. More so, in fact. Twins often have matching fingerprints. No two brains are the same because no one experiences the same event, not exactly in the same way in any case, and a slight difference now can have a huge impact long term.”
“Fascinating,” Rupert said.
“Advances and breakthroughs in science often are, I find,” Bill said. “I only understand these kind of things as a layman. I wouldn’t have a chance of understanding the results as they were first published. You’d need a PhD to even begin understanding the question, never mind trying to figure out the solution.”
“Yes,” Rupert said. “We’re idiots. You don’t need to rub it in.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Bill said. “I’m sure not many people know the kind of things you know about security, right? The same with me and medicine. There are only a certain number of people with a particular set of skills. The more specialized those skills are, the better. At least in the old world.”
“I don’t think things have changed that much,” Rupert said. “We’ve all always had to learn how to survive.”
He turned to Jim’s unconscious form.
“I hope he’ll be all right,” he said. “He’s a good boy.”
“I’m doing everything I can for him,” Bill said. “That’s not saying much unfortunately, as we have a dearth of medicine, only enough to deal with the most common complaints.”
“It’s better than what we had,” Rupert said. “Plus, you have the necessary knowledge to help him.”
“You didn’t say how you met him,” Bill said.
“He was onboard the The Red Flag,” Rupert said. “Kidnapped, much like most of the crew were, and forced to work at sea. When we finally made our escape, we took pity on him and took him with us. It was risky, but we thought he deserved a second chance at a happy life somewhere. It wasn’t to be, of course. We still got caught by the natives.”
“It was good of you to take the extra risk,” Bill said.
Rupert shrugged.
“It’s what anyone would do given the circumstances,” he said. “Has he woken up yet?”
“No, not yet,” Bill said.
“When do you think he’ll be conscious?” Rupert said.
“I don’t know,” Bill said. “It could be weeks before he’s back to his old self.”
“What medicines are you giving Jim?” Rupert said.
“A concoction of my own design,” Bill said. “Made from the plants we have here on this island. It’s a mild painkiller. We’re administering it to him every four hours.”
“If we can be of any assistance, please just let us know,” Rupert said. “I want Jim to recover as quickly as possible.”
“Speed is not a good indicator of successful recovery in this case,” Bill said. “Jim’s body needs time to rest.”
“Anything you need, just tell me,” Rupert said.
“I will, thank you,” Bill said.
“No,” Rupert said, placing a hand on Bill’s shoulder. “Thank you. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“You could help with giving Jim the medicine,” Bill said. “But you’ll have to be careful. Given in small quantities it can relieve pain. Given in larger quantities can render it a dangerous weapon.”
“How so?” Rupert said.
“It can dull the mind, cause headaches, and knock the user out,” Bill said.
“We’d best be careful when we administer it then,” Rupert said with a smile.
Bill walked to the door and looked down at the clearing. Manuel was still there, standing in the same position as earlier, just as Bill knew he would be.
“It’s good of you to take care of Manuel,” Bill said.
“I’m not as good as you might think,” Rupert said. “If we were in the old world I wouldn’t have helped him. I would have made the relevant donations to the right organizations, helping him indirectly, but there was no room for selfless altruism in the old world.”
“Some would say that about the new world,” Bill said. “But really that’s what we should be doing: helping each other, not competing. I can only imagine how terrible it must be on the mainland.”
“Trust me,” Rupert said. “You don’t want to know. There are few people who help each other out.”
He turned his smile on Bill.
“You and your family, you’re exceptions,” he said. “And only you because you haven’t been corrupted by the true nature of what it’s like out there. The truth is, Manuel and I need each other to survive. Alone, we would both have perished. Manuel doesn’t have the brains necessary to survive, and fighting was never in my skillset.
“I remember the day Manuel and I took to The Red Flag. We had been together before that, but we never spoke much. Manuel was getting more and more withdrawn into himself. The pirates picked on him a lot from the get go, beating him when they wanted to vent their frustrations—which, unfortunately, happened often. They took our their anger on him because he wouldn’t fight back.
“Ironic, isn’t it? That he could have torn them apart if he wanted, but without the wherewithal to channel his considerable strength into the process. And me, in as good a shape as I am, am not enough to counter the collective strength of even a fraction of the crew if they had a mind to do me in. And so, I took pity on poor Manuel and befriended him.
“It took a long time for him to learn to trust me, but eventually he did. I went hungry many days and nights and gave part of my rations to him, like trying to befriend a puppy that had been badly treated and no longer trusted people.
“And then, finally, when he began sleeping with me—yes, he sleeps with me, cuddles up close like I’m his personal teddy bear—he nuzzled me. I have to tell you, it was very strange at first—but once you get used to it, it feels nice, like someone relies on you for their existence. And then the sweetest moment came, when the crew discovered us, cuddling up like that.
“I was ashamed, embarrassed, to be sure. And I was bound to be treated just as Manuel had been up to that point. Finally, they attacked us,
thinking us weak, feminine. But we were stronger than they knew. We destroyed them, together. All it took was a single word from my lips, and my lips only. ‘Go.’”
“Go?” Bill said. “That’s it? That’s all it takes to make him go beast mode?”
“Yes,” Rupert said. “The rest of the crew never bothered us after that.”
“Do you have a kill switch keyword?” Bill said.
“No,” Rupert said. “I don’t have need of one.”
“What if there’s a mistake, or he attacks the wrong person?” Bill said.
“Then God help whoever is his victim,” Rupert said.
He was deathly serious, Bill realized. And suddenly Bill was afraid too. There weren’t only wild animals in the jungle, but right here, right now, in their home. And worst of all, they had invited it in themselves.
Chapter Thirteen
ERNEST LIKED routine. He could get a lot more done if he planned what he expected to do each day, as well as an achievable target.
Right now was reading time, and though he had lost his watch a long time ago, it didn’t matter as he, along with the rest of the family, had learned to tell the time by the location of the sun in the sky. It perhaps wasn’t as accurate as a watch, but it was accurate enough for their purposes. There were no strict timetables. Nothing needed to run perfectly on time. Life was now about approximations.
Ernest was greeted by an unusual sight when he got to the top of the ladder to Robin’s Nest. Fritz sat looking out a window at the night sky. He had his back to Ernest, but it was easy to picture the look Fritz would have on his face. It would be distant with thought. It was an expression Ernest had only seen on his elder brother a few times during his lifetime and it was always about something he considered to be important in his life, a decision that had to be made, and he had to carefully weigh up his options.
Despite what most people thought at school, Fritz was not stupid. He was slow to answer, to form opinions, but that was because he liked to go over the facts and make the right decision rather than a knee-jerk one. Ernest knew this, and he was always surprised by how often their opinions and thought processes overlapped, though Ernest’s software was an upgrade over Fritz’s.
They rarely disagreed about important decisions. Fritz just needed a little longer to come to the same conclusion. Ernest liked to tease him about it, but right then, when Fritz was thoughtful, he was in a serious mood. He might have needed someone to talk to, and Ernest was there for him if he did.
“How’s your body feeling?” Ernest said. “Your muscles hurt?”
“Not really,” Fritz said.
Ernest felt like he’d been hit by a car.
“What are you thinking about?” Ernest said.
Fritz shrugged. He could often be as hard to read as a stone.
“Just a bit shaken by all the news Rupert told us,” he said.
“What’s so shocking?” Ernest said. “That there are pirates out on the open seas again? So much for us wanting to sail back home. There goes that idea.”
Fritz didn’t say anything. He was clearly dwelling on something, but Ernest wouldn’t ask him about it. He knew he would tell him when he was good and ready. Plus, Fritz wasn’t exactly the subtle type. Ernest could often figure out what was wrong before Fritz even opened his mouth to speak. It wasn’t hard. Most people were easy to read for Ernest, and Fritz was a children’s picture book. A pop-up book, so clear and obvious that it might as well be tattooed on Fritz’s face.
Jack sat on the floor playing a card game with Nips. As if the monkey could understand. Ernest shook his head. Human beings might have almost ninety-nine percent in common with chimps, but he swore Jack had more. Jack and his mother Liz were the only ones who ever presented a mystery to Ernest.
“Is it anything I can help with?” Ernest said.
Fritz was silent a long time before he answered. He was thinking over his response.
“No,” Fritz said. “Thank you.”
Thank you? Ernest gulped. Thank you?
Fritz was never courteous if he didn’t need to be. Whatever dwelled upon his mind must have been an important issue indeed.
Chapter Fourteen
IT WAS another lackluster meal to Rupert’s eyes. Breakfast this time. He didn’t say anything directly, but that in itself was the same as screaming at the top of his voice.
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he kept saying. The underlying meaning was obvious: ‘So why are we eating this crap?’
Jack was the only member of the family missing this morning. Someone had to always keep watch over the sea in case the natives showed their faces.
Ever since their—admittedly brief—brush with them, Bill had thought it prudent to keep a permanent watch in the direction they had seen the natives flee. There was no guarantee they would return to the same spot they had arrived at, of course. In fact, they would almost certainly be better off keeping watch in another direction.
But there was simply no way they could keep an eye on every direction at the same time. They might as well have simply flipped a coin to decide which way they wanted to watch.
“We’ll take our turn too,” Rupert said. “I insist. There are worse things than the undead out there.”
“Like what?” Bill said.
“Like the people,” Rupert said. “Something about the apocalypse brings out the worst in them. They revert back to some kind of prehistoric man, deadly and dangerous.”
“The natives?” Bill said.
“Worse,” Rupert said. “Pirates. Look, during all this I never got a chance to thank you for helping us the way you did. If it wasn’t for you we would be headless, squashed and dead, lying on the beach somewhere. Or maybe the tide would have taken us out somewhere on a merry journey for the fishes to enjoy. Or maybe they had other plans for our bodies. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been anything good.”
“You’re welcome,” Bill said. “I’m sure if the situation was reversed, you would have done the same thing for us.”
The silence that answered was not the confirmation Bill had been expecting nor hoping for. Rupert just gave him a grin, no doubt expecting it to look friendly, kind and caring. It was anything but.
Liz was quiet during the entire meal, distracted. Bill thought it was due to the friction caused by the ingredients she was allowed to use. It was only after the meal when Liz took him aside that Bill realized it was due to an entirely different reason.
Liz was careful to make sure they were out of the others’ hearing range before speaking.
“If this is about your cooking-” Bill said.
“What?” Liz said. “About what?”
“About your sour appearance during dinner and how quiet you were,” Bill said.
“I kept quiet so Rupert wouldn’t pick up on it,” Liz said. “You don’t think they noticed me acting weird do you?”
“Probably,” Bill said. “But what’s the big deal? We all know the reason why.”
“Evidently not,” Liz said.
“It’s something else?” Bill said.
“I’d say so, yes,” Liz said. “Come look at this.”
She took him to the pantry. They didn’t want to keep it outside exposed like this, but there was little other choice. To keep it inside Falcon’s Nest was to invite trouble into their home. If their stash of food was destroyed by wildlife, then so be it. But the animals had all but disappeared. There had been little sign of them for the past couple months.
Liz folded her arms and tapped her foot.
“What?” Bill said.
“The pantry door,” Liz said.
“Okay…” Bill said, reaching for its door and pulling on the handle.
“So, it’s closed,” he said. “So what?”
“Try the lock,” Liz said, sticking her tongue into her cheek.
“Liz, can you please just tell me what this is all about?” Bill said.
“Try it,” Liz said.
Bill s
ighed, playing the part of the long-suffering husband. He tried the door.
“It’s locked,” Bill said. “Shocking. So what?”
“So please tell me how someone managed to get inside without breaking the lock or leaving any sign of forced entry,” Liz said.
“Someone got inside?” Bill said. “Did they take anything?”
“Yes,” Liz said. “Some vegetables. There’s only one person who could have gotten inside the pantry without breaking it. And you know who I’m talking about.”
“Who?” Bill said.
Liz rolled her eyes.
“The only one of us who is a former security expert,” she said.
“Rupert?” Bill said.
“Sh!” Liz said, taking Bill by the hand and leading him farther away.
“Why would he steal from the pantry?” Bill said.
“Because he wants more to eat,” Liz said. “You know what he’s like. He complains about how much we have to eat every day. Even when he’s not speaking, he’s complaining.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Bill said.
“Who’s jumping?” Liz said. “Think about it, Bill. What do we really know about these guys? Only what they tell us.”
“Calm down,” Bill said. “I’m sure this can be easily explained. Are you sure there are vegetables missing?”
“Certain,” Liz said. “You know I keep a detailed checklist on me at all times. The only people who don’t know that are those who arrived very recently. And I’m sure I wouldn’t still have that too if they did know about it.”
“Maybe one of the boys took it,” Bill said.
Liz rolled her eyes.
“Now who’s jumping?” she said.
“But we should check with them first though, don’t you think?” Bill said.
“And what if they say they didn’t touch the pantry food?” Liz said.
“Then we’ll do whatever’s necessary to get the truth,” Bill said.
He frowned.
“And I just realized something,” he said.
“What?” Liz said.
Bill hesitated. Perhaps it was best not to say. But then, he’d never kept a secret from Liz before…