“What do you want to happen?”
“I want him to suffer as much as we did.”
Vincent was silent for a moment. He stared at Henry. “Even if it were possible to do that, Henry, it would make you into a mirror of him. Isn’t one of him enough? You wouldn’t be able to do it. You might think it, but you couldn’t actually do it. You’re a good man, whether you believe it or not.”
“I was a good man, once. Before. But everything from then is dead. Even me.”
“I didn’t know you Before. I know you now. You worry about the things you’ve done, the people you’ve left behind. You’re moved enough to try and rescue them. That’s more than I can say for myself or the rest of us. You kept Molly going when she wanted to lie down and die. You didn’t let the others chase down a starving little boy who stole from us and shot at you. You’re willing to care for someone else’s child in a world where things like that can get you killed. You’re a good man, Henry. Don’t let Phil turn you into something else.”
Henry was silent, feeling the aching sorrow of the day as if it were a hollow socket in his chest. Vincent stood up and brushed the dust from his pants. “We’ll be late for our appointment. We need to go meet Melissa and Rickey.”
Henry nodded and stood up.
Thirty-five
Melissa was sitting in the waiting room pretending not to know Rickey, who was doing his miserable best to seduce the pretty secretary when Henry and Vincent showed up. Rickey gave up and sat next to them within seconds.
“Did you find her? Did you find anything?” asked Melissa.
Henry shook his head. “He came alone. In January. I can’t remember dates so well. I think it must have been close to our escape right?”
Rickey shrugged. “I haven’t had use for a calendar in almost a decade.”
“At least he came alone,” whispered Melissa, “maybe that means his men abandoned him.”
Henry picked at the fraying upholstery on his chair. “Maybe it means that everyone else is dead.”
Melissa squeezed his hand gently and was quiet. The waiting room was silent and they were the only ones there. Even the secretary excused herself after a moment. Rickey’s knee started bobbing up and down. It drove Henry slowly toward madness. Rickey elbowed him in the ribs.
“Hey, what do cannibals make out of politicians?”
“Not now, Rick. Just calm down and wait.”
“Wait for what? What are we even here for?”
Melissa leaned in as if waiting for Henry to answer. He looked around at them. “Why should I decide? It’s not like I suffered any more than you. What I want will never happen.”
“We’re not here to ask for anything,” said Melissa suddenly and sharply. “We aren’t here to beg or to make trades or to offer solutions. Why should it be us that has to solve anything? We were the ones wronged. This man was elected or took power or whatever in order to fix things like this. You all need to stop acting as if this is a personal vendetta. Phil is a monster. He doesn’t belong in any sort of decent civilization. He’s a destroyer. Not just of us. Not just of the people at the Lodge. He needs to be expelled from every society he tries to blend into. We’re here to tell what’s left of the world what he’s done.”
“And if nothing is done?” asked Rickey, his hand tapping his lips nervously.
“If they want to live with someone who is worse than a murderer, then that’s their business. We’ll have done what we meant to.”
“But what about us? Are we going to live with someone like that?” asked Henry.
Vincent held up a calming hand. “Let’s just get through today. Maybe this military governor will be reasonable. Maybe the situation is changed now that he won’t have to expend resources to catch Phil. Let’s just see what he says. We can worry about the worst if it happens.”
The secretary bustled back into the office and they all fell silent again. Still, the woman noticed a change in the atmosphere and quickly tapped on the interior door. She disappeared for a moment into the Governor’s office.
“How long have you been waiting?” asked Henry when she was gone.
“She told us he was in another meeting about the hospital,” said Melissa, “I told her we would wait as long as necessary to see him.”
Rickey snorted. “She must have decided she looked at our ugly mugs for long enough.”
The secretary walked briskly back out again, followed by some grim looking people in uniform and an exhausted looking little man in a lab coat. Henry felt a small shudder curl up and over his neck. He wondered again if they should just leave, let this new disease take its course in this dark little bastion of a City and start fresh somewhere new.
“You can go in now,” said the secretary, almost shooing them out of her waiting room. They stood up and Melissa turned to them one more time.
“We aren’t here for sympathy. We’re here to get justice. You understand?”
Henry realized she had been as angry as he this entire time. He stood straighter. Vincent put a hand on Rickey’s shoulder to steady him. The Governor was as tired and shrunken as the last time Henry had seen him, and the office felt smaller with all of them in it. Henry felt larger, stronger. The Governor stood up and shook hands hesitantly with each of them, either not recognizing Henry or choosing to pretend that he didn’t.
“Please, have a seat, tell me what brings you here today. It must be important to take you away from work at such a crisis point for the City.”
“I was here a few days ago, asking for help in capturing the leader of a camp a few days distance from here,” began Henry, ignoring the barb.
“Ah. Mr. Broom. I believe I made myself clear last time we met, and if anything I have even fewer resources to spare since the incident in the courtroom. Bringing your friends won’t change my decision I’m afraid. As I said, I’m very sorry for what you all went through but I can’t justify sending men and supplies after every petty criminal–”
“This isn’t a petty criminal!” Melissa banged her hand on the large wooden desk and the Governor flinched. “He isn’t a simple looter or thug. He’s a monster. This man doesn’t kill and steal for survival’s sake. He does it because he enjoys it. He draws it out, extends the suffering. Weak, ill, children, makes no difference to him. But he’s vulnerable now. All alone. You need to arrest him before he rebuilds, before he starts making friends again.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you folks escaped that camp some months ago. How do you know this man is alone now?”
“Because he’s in the City,” said Vincent quietly. The Governor looked over at him in alarm.
“Are you sure?”
Rickey stood up. “Are you accusing a priest of lying?” he asked loudly.
“N– no, no of course not. It’s just, people change, memories get blurry. Are you sure this is the same man?”
“We’ve all seen him,” said Henry, “we’re all certain.”
The Governor nodded slowly and pulled a lumpy pad of pressed paper toward him. He cleared his throat. “What was this man’s name?”
“Phil,” said Henry.
“His last name?”
Henry looked around at the others but no one knew.
“You don’t know his last name?” asked the Governor sharply.
“It’s not like we were formally introduced,” said Rickey, “we just know what his men called him.”
“Fair enough, but how are we going to find him? There must be a dozen Phils in the City–”
“He’s the gravedigger,” said Vincent. His face and voice were still calm, but Henry could tell that Vincent was becoming upset with the Governor’s reticence.
“The gravedigger? But I remember authorizing a full time hire for that three months ago.”
“What difference does that make?” asked Melissa.
The Governor leaned back. “I declared a general amnesty only a week ago. It was time to stop dredging up the past over and over. The Plague Trial was meant to be
the capstone on the tension between Immune and Infected– excuse me, Cured. The City can’t live in this constant state of uneasy peace forever. We need to be one society, or we’ll collapse.”
“And you thought a general amnesty would make people just, what? Forget everything that’s happened over the past several years? Burying your head isn’t going to make memories disappear. If you want to have true peace and rebuilding there has to be justice.”
“Justice? For which people?” The Governor leaned forward and pointed at Melissa. “You want me to arrest this man, hold him accountable somehow. Okay. He did things that were wrong. Maybe evil. So did everyone else. What happens when someone realizes you killed their parents? Should I arrest you too?”
“We didn’t torture anyone. We did what we had to in order to survive,” said Rickey jabbing a finger back toward the Governor.
“You sure about that? I think the people you devoured alive would probably disagree. It’s an awful way to die. I’ve seen it too many times in the past.”
Vincent tilted forward, burying his head in his arms, his thin back shaking with suppressed sobs. Alarmed, Henry tried to calm him down. The Governor ignored him and continued, “and this Phil guy, he probably did what he thought he had to in order to survive as well. We all tell ourselves that these days. What makes him so different? If I’d had the idea to use Infected as guards rather than innocent men, I would have done it too, before the Cure. We didn’t know you were going to recover. I needed every man that I lost in those years.”
“Would you have used the women for sport? Chained people in the freezing cold without shelter or clothing? Let them slowly starve to death? And after you knew about the Cure would you have prevented the survivors from receiving treatment so you could continue to use them?” Melissa was almost shouting. Henry found himself growing calmer as his friends started giving way to despair. He spoke quietly, still kneeling next to Vincent.
“I don’t know if we were more human or animal when we were ill. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we were more dog than man. But even animals deserve either better care or a more dignified death than we received. I have not tried to use my illness as a shield to pretend I’ve done no wrong. Why should this man, who had the presence of mind to act like a man, unlike myself, be allowed to use it to deny doing evil? Do you want him among you, working with your friends? Speaking to your children? Leering at your spouse?”
The Governor stared at Henry for a long moment. Then he scrubbed his stubbly cheeks with his hands. “Look, if I arrest Phil, we start down a slippery slope. One that could cause a permanent split in the City. My job is not to allow that to happen. There is too much depending on the people here. We’ve all been through so much. But terrible things happen during war. It’s part of the cost–”
Melissa stood up. “It was a disease. We aren’t the enemy, you can’t treat us like captured soldiers. This wasn’t a war!”
The Governor too, shot up, his rolling chair hitting the wall behind him with a bang. “Yes it fucking was! You people always say that, but you don’t know. For years we fought people like you. Years! You pushed us back into this small City until there were only a few thousand of us left. I watched people like you tear apart my men, piece by gory piece. Men caught beyond the wall when a cluster of you would hit. They’d scream for us to shoot them so they didn’t have to feel your terrible claws and teeth any longer. I had to bury you. Hundreds, thousands. Every day for years, so that the City’s water didn’t make us sick. So rodents didn’t eat you and bring in disease. We starved behind the Barrier for months between scavenging efforts. All things you’ve been blissfully unaware of for almost ten years. And now you come here, to the place I sweat and bled for, and you complain about what’s been done to you. It absolutely was war, of the bloodiest, most desperate type. It’s bad enough we have to find work and food and shelter for you–” the Governor stopped himself and took a deep breath. Vincent had recovered enough to look up at him in shock and Melissa was speechless standing across from him. Rickey, alone, looked unsurprised. The Governor turned around and found his chair. “I’m sorry,” he said wheeling it back, “I shouldn’t have lost my temper. It’s been a very long week, but that is no excuse. Again, I’m sorry for what you have been through. The best thing for us all to do is to move forward and try to leave the past behind us. Life is better here, and you need never repeat your experiences. I hope you will stay. But I cannot risk tearing this entire society apart just to punish one man.”
Rickey laughed and it was a bitter, dry snort. “Yeah, you already did that this week.”
“I’m sorry but that’s my final word. I’ve already warned Mr. Broom, but I will reiterate for the rest of you; the City does not tolerate vigilantes. If I find out that any harm has come to the gravedigger, I’ll know where to look. Avoid him. Forget that you ever met him. Pretend he died in your escape. Whatever you need to do to get by. If you cannot, I suggest you leave now, before you commit a criminal act that would result in your own execution.”
Henry helped Vincent up. He felt dazed, as if something had shorted out, missed the connection within his brain. Melissa’s face was slack and expressionless, as if she felt the same. He grabbed her hand and began leading her and the priest out of the office. Rickey was still fuming though. Henry nudged the door open just as Rickey began shouting. “You just remember that we were here, that we warned you. You remember when your asshole itches and burns because you refused to wipe that piece of shit out. We warned you. You think this City is going to survive? Even you can’t hide how you really feel about living with the Cured. Others have a lot less reasons to pretend to be polite than you do. If this new Plague doesn’t kill us all, you’re going to have a real war on your hands in a few years.”
The secretary was staring open mouthed, at them as they left the office. Henry blushed and hurried them out into the street, away from everything that had just happened. Melissa sat down on the building’s worn stone steps. Rickey sauntered down them and sat next to her, pulling out a flimsy hand wrapped cigarette. He lit it and held up his hand toward the building, flipping off the blank windows.
“Well that didn’t go quite as I expected,” said Henry, scratching at the back of his neck.
“Really?” Rickey grinned and half closed his eyes against a puff of smoke. “That’s pretty much exactly the reaction I thought we’d get.”
Melissa started to cry. “What do we do now? We can’t stay here. We can’t live like this.”
“Aw, now, don’t cry,” said Rickey, putting a scrawny arm around her neck. “Let’s go somewhere else to figure it out. These government buildings give me the creeps. What do you think, Vincent, you up for a round of pool?”
Vincent shook his head. “I’m going home. I don’t want to be around strangers just now. You can come if you want. I’ll make dinner.”
They stood up and walked away from the cold, granite building. Henry was the only one who didn’t spend the walk wondering why he hadn’t stayed at the farmhouse. A new desire was taking place in Henry’s head. Free to think of alternatives now that the civilized courses had failed him, a dark plan began to solidify in his chest.
Thirty-six
Henry stared out of the rectory window toward the church. It was too dark to see the cemetery but he knew it was there. He imagined Phil slumped on his couch, his thick boots flaking mud in the corner, the television blaring. Henry wondered what the man thought about when he was alone.
“We can’t leave without giving Molly and Pam the chance to go with us,” said Vincent as he lit the stove. Henry turned to look at him.
“Pam’s family may decide to stay. But I don’t think Molly knows anyone except us. Of course, after all this time at the hospital she may have made better friends with the nursing staff. Still, we should give her the option.”
“How long’s this quarantine thing supposed to last?” asked Rickey.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen another broadcast, have you?”
“The soldiers at the barricade said at least a week, probably closer to a month,” said Melissa, setting the table with tiny clinks in the corner.
“A month?” groaned Rickey.
“We still have to figure out where we’re going and how we’re going to make it work. That will probably take us about that long.” said Henry, turning back to the window.
“Why are you so calm?” asked Melissa, “Out of all of us, I thought you’d be the one in a rage.”
“Because after meeting the Governor the first time, I was the only one that didn’t expect anyone to help us.”
Melissa sat in a chair with a sigh. She clicked her silverware together on the table. “How can they live like this? All piled together in a heap, each pretending as if everything were normal. Meanwhile each knows they are working with, trading with, maybe even sleeping with people that killed those they loved. How do they do it?”
Vincent looked up sharply. “Because they have to. What’s the alternative? Should the Cured be forced to live separately from the Immunes? Should we all live apart from each other, just in case? We can’t survive that way. And we aren’t the first to do it either. Passions, wars, diseases, violence all pass. Neighbors still must live together, rely on each other, afterward. You think I’m old fashioned– you think my calling makes me naïve or vulnerable,” he turned toward Henry, “but there are real, effective reasons that concepts like turning the other cheek have lasted so long.”
Henry stared back at Vincent, feeling a hot bubble of anger fill his chest. “An eye for an eye is even older, Father.”
Vincent nodded. “There is of course, a place and time for justice. You’ve asked how we can live among murderers. We too, have murdered. If we expect to take a life from those who have taken one from us, shouldn’t we pay with ours as well? We’re all guilty. We might as well lie down and die right now, because if we stick with an ‘eye for an eye’ then the species is doomed.”
“I can’t forgive him, Vincent. I can’t see him healthy and thriving every day. It will destroy me,” said Melissa.
The Cured Page 24