Everything Dies [Season One]

by T. W. Malpass

  3

  When Kristin opened her eyes it was gone three in the morning. Her mouth was dry. A hot chemical taste stained the back of her throat, like she’d been chewing on tyre rubber. She rolled over and felt around the mattress where Vincent should have been. The gentle whimper coming from the other room told her where he was. She crawled out of bed and reached for her night robe.

  Vincent paced up and down on the synthetic fur rug in the living space, Emily pressed against his chest. Her butterball cheeks were damp with tears, but she still managed to smile when she saw Kristin wander in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  ‘Oh, sweetie.’ Kristin brushed Emily’s fringe away to touch the skin on her forehead. Her temperature was high. Not quite at the level of a fever, but she could barely keep her eyes open, let alone speak. ‘How long have you been up with her?’

  ‘Just over an hour,’ Vincent whispered.

  ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

  ‘It’s fine, honestly. I gave her another painkiller, but I don’t think it worked too well. The fact she’s so tired is the only thing that’s helping,’ Vincent said.

  ‘If that bitch at the medicentre stonewalls us again, I swear to God I’ll flip her upside down and shake her until something stronger falls out,’ Kristin said.

  ‘I’ll see to it first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Are you sure I can’t do anything?’

  Vincent smiled at her as he gently rocked their daughter to sleep. ‘I got this.’

  Kristin leaned in, planting a lingering kiss on his lips. ‘I’m just going to…’

  ‘Get some fresh air?’

  Kristin’s grin separated her lips and she kissed him again.

  Vincent flicked his head to tell her to get going.

  She wandered back into the bedroom to fetch her pack of cigarettes, then ventured outside. As soon as she’d sat down on the middle one of the steps leading up to their door, she struck up her lighter and pulled hard on her smoke. Placing her head between her knees, she held her breath, only rising to blow out the fumes when they started to tickle her throat.

  The spotlights on the north fence gave a strange glow to the trees in the woodland beyond. Their tops swayed angelically. Everything on the outside seemed quiet – peaceful. It was hard to imagine that some kind of horrible death could be waiting for them there. She noticed the body of a guard shifting about in the right-hand tower close to the back exit, but when she examined the tower to the left side, it was empty.

  The noise coming towards her almost caused her to drop her cigarette – the sound of feet dragging through the dirt. She relaxed as she recognised the familiar combat fatigues that could be seen on people all over the camp. This soldier wasn’t walking in the usual rigid way. His body hung loose, like he didn’t give a shit. Instead of being down by his side, his rifle was resting on his shoulder. He saw Kristin and altered his direction so he would pass by her on his patrol.

  As he approached, she realised her legs were slightly apart and pulled her robe over her knees. ‘You scared me,’ she said.

  The private’s expression was sullen, his face squashed into his tightly strapped helmet. ‘No one outside after nine, Ma’am.’

  ‘I’m sitting on the step of my trailer.’

  The soldier took two more paces forward, sliding the gun into both hands, pointing it at the floor in front of her. ‘You gonna make me repeat myself?’

  Kristin straightened up, finding it hard to believe what she’d just heard. There were so many things she could say – wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. Taking one more drag on her cigarette, she flicked it at the soldier’s feet, so the embers bounced across the toes of his boots, and marched back inside the container.

  Vincent and Emily were absent from the living space. She walked over to the table where they ate their meals and slumped into one of the chairs. A collection of Emily’s crayon drawings were scattered over the table top. Kristin picked one and held it up to the light. As soon as she examined it she burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. She tried to cry quietly, but in the confined space the sound carried.

  Vincent crept in from Emily’s bedroom and sat in the chair next to her. ‘What is it?’ he said.

  ‘I saw this picture and realised I’d gotten so caught up in this place, I’d forgotten about Tugger,’ she sobbed.

  ‘Good ol’ boy,’ Vincent said.

  ‘We left him out there all alone.’

  ‘The border patrol would have shot us if we’d tried to force him through the checkpoint. You can’t blame yourself.’ Vincent grabbed her by the hand. ‘Maybe he made it to the woods. You know how much he used to love the woods. Or maybe someone else, another family, picked him up and took him elsewhere.’

  Kristin shook her head. ‘That asshole guard. He could see how much it tore Emily apart and he couldn’t turn a blind eye, even when everything had gone to hell.’

  ‘He was just a boy, Kris. A scared boy following orders.’

  ‘Like I needed another reason to hate the military.’ She rubbed angrily at her sore eyes and then slammed the flat of her hand on the table. ‘What the hell are we doing here, Vincent?’

  ‘Taking a breath? Trying to hang on to what’s left?’

  ‘What is left?’

  Vincent gazed at her longingly. ‘We are.’ He kissed her forearm and she responded by running her hands through his dark, greying hair.

  4

  The next morning, Emily was the only one who looked remotely ready to start the day. Both Vincent and Kristin had grey smudges beneath their eyes and hang dog expressions.

  Vincent brushed against his wife on his way out. ‘I’ll see you soon.’ He led Emily by the hand from the container block, heading to the northeast corner of the camp where the medical centre stood.

  It was gone eight a.m., so the areas open to the refugees were starting to fill with people, mainly children running around and playing on their bikes and scooters. Once Emily had stopped waving back to her, Kristin took a stroll south towards the transit and military barracks. Before she could get clear of the containers, a thick-set man with thinning brown hair clamped his eyes on her. He quickened his pace to catch her up, struggling to run in his open-toed sandals.

  ‘Hey, Graham,’ he shouted.

  She recognised him on account of his shorts and footwear. His family were staying in one of the containers a few doors away from theirs. He had a gut that hung lower than the seam of his shirt, and he always seemed to be pouring with sweat. She noticed that his ankles were swollen to twice their normal size, hence the sandals. ‘You goin’ down to the barracks again?’ he said.

  ‘It’s Kyle, isn’t it? I’m not sure why it’s any of your business what I do with my day.’

  ‘It might be when what you’re doin’ affects the rest of us,’ Kyle said.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  He waddled up to her, pulling a dirty handkerchief from his front pocket to wipe the perspiration away from his forehead. ‘Human rights lawyers. Making money by defending some diaper-head across the other side of the world against patriots who spilled blood for this country.’

  ‘Wow. You come up with that all by yourself?’

  ‘I ain’t the only one who is sick of your bullshit.’

  ‘My bullshit, as you so eloquently call it, is about trying to make things better for all of us here. Don’t you think we deserve a little more transparency? I don’t see anyone else asking the questions,’ Kristin said.

  Kyle put his handkerchief away, even though his face was still as shiny with sweat as always. ‘I know most folks are just grateful to have a roof over their heads. I know those soldiers have lost men keepin’ us safe. I know if you keep pushin’, they might decide not to try so hard next time they go out to clear the roads of infected.’

  Kristin stood her ground. She’d dealt with plenty of Kyles before, especially in her profession, and she wasn’t about to be intimidated. ‘I don’t think you’ve thought this throug
h. The soldiers need those supplies too. You think they’d starve themselves over a petty dispute? You know, I’m sure I read somewhere that a lack of nutrition can lead to intense paranoia.’

  ‘Well ain’t that nice?’ Kyle stepped up to her, so close Kristin almost gagged from the pungency of his body odour. ‘You may think you’re somethin’ special on the outside, but behind these fences, you’re just another mouth to feed – a big fuckin’ mouth that needs to learn when to stay shut.’

  ‘Might wanna step back there, sailor.’ The female voice came from behind Kristin. She turned to see a black woman fixing a steely glare upon Kyle.

  ‘Why don’t you mind your own? I don’t know you, lady,’ Kyle said.

  The woman seemed unperturbed by his comment. ‘Unless you want to get acquainted with me a little better, I suggest you take your anger someplace else.’

  Kyle took a second to ponder her advice, and noted how much her stare burnt right through him. He then sneered at them both and pointed an accusing finger at Kristin. ‘This camp don’t need another Erin Brockovich. We just need some food in our bellies.’

  The black woman looked him up and down and settled on his bulging gut. ‘Some of us could go longer than others.’

  Kyle puckered his lips to respond, but thought better of it and stormed back towards the container block.

  As Kristin opened her mouth to speak, the woman cut her off. ‘I get it. You didn’t need anyone running to your rescue. I just get a kick out of pissing on morons like that.’

  Kristin smiled and held out her hand. ‘I’m Kristin.’

  ‘Raine. Raine Miller.’ She shook her hand, but avoided eye contact. Kristin thought she looked like she was dressed for a building site. Her loose-fitting combat pants were strapped tight at their bottoms with work boots. Her over-sized knitted sweat shirt had a round, open neck, revealing the straps of the black vest underneath and her firmly sculpted deltoid muscles.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,’ Kristin said.

  ‘I’ve seen you,’ Raine replied.

  ‘That right?’

  ‘Some of what that asshole said wasn’t far off the mark, y’know. A bunch of Oorahs cooped up in a powder keg like this aren’t gonna take too kindly to a woman calling bullshit on them.’

  ‘You think I’m wrong doing what I’m doing?’

  ‘Didn’t say that. Just might be a smarter way of going about it,’ Raine said.

  Kristin was surprised by her new acquaintance – in a good way. They had spent the best part of three months in the camp and she could already tell this woman was by far the most interesting person she’d met there. ‘Will you walk with me?’ she said.

  Raine shrugged. ‘I was heading in that direction anyway.’

  As they got closer to the barracks, the numbers of kids running around diminished. The soldiers would often discourage them from getting too close to their quarters. In the beginning, they had been much more responsive to the refugees, but lately Kristin had observed a significant change in their behaviour in the last couple of weeks in particular.

  ‘Are you here with your family?’ Kristin asked.

  Raine shook her head. ‘No family. I’m over there.’ She glanced to the rows of tents on their left.

  ‘I have a husband and an eight-year-old daughter. We managed to get out together.’

  ‘I don’t envy you then,’ Raine said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it’s hard enough to look out for yourself in this mess, without having to worry about other people.’

  ‘That’s an interesting way of looking at things.’

  ‘Or a realistic one.’

  Kristin gazed into the dark chasms of her eyes. The intensity burning there was what had attracted her to the no-nonsense woman in the first place, but there was something broken there as well. Kristin wasn’t sure if she wanted to know its origin. ‘So, are you going to show me a better approach to getting answers?’

  Raine looked up to the perimeter fence at the front of the camp, just past the transit. ‘That guard tower – tell me what you see.’

  Kristin examined it, and the outline of the figure inside. ‘I see an armed lookout.’

  Raine adjusted her focus to the tower on the other side of the transit. ‘What about the next tower?’

  ‘It looks empty.’

  ‘That’s because it is. If you walk around the entire camp, you’ll notice that every other guard post is empty too, but that’s only been the case for the past two weeks. Before that, every post was manned around the clock.’

  ‘Maybe the surrounding areas are more secure than they used to be. They said they had made headway clearing the roads.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Raine said. ‘Or maybe there just aren’t enough soldiers to go round anymore.’

  ‘There have been more going out to open the supply route.’

  ‘That’s what they say, but don’t you think they’d be coming back by now, or at least be on rotation?’

  ‘They’re abandoning us?’ Kristin said.

  ‘Either that or they’re in a much bigger shit storm out there than they’re letting on.’

  Kristin scanned the outskirts of the barracks to try and distinguish if the amount of men on show had lessened. ‘Sounds like you trust them less than I do.’

  ‘I don’t trust anyone when they’re armed to the teeth, stressed out and low on food. Besides, it’s not just the military we should be worrying about,’ Raine said. ‘For the most part, we have no idea who we’ve been trapped with in here. When strangers are forced into close proximity, it’s inevitable their lives will collide in some way.’ She turned to a section of fence adjacent to a container that had been converted into a makeshift school for the younger kids. Sitting against it was a young man in a black hooded top. The hood was pulled up over his head, but his lips were still visible. He was cross-legged and rocking back and forth, and appeared to be chanting something under his breath, picking up handfuls of dirt and watching it slip through his fingers as he did so. ‘Don’t know about you, but I don’t want to have their lives crashing into mine.’

  Raine’s words and the sight of the strange young man sent a chill through Kristin’s body. The disturbing thought was closely followed by the distant sound of an engine.

  ‘There.’ Raine pointed to the road leading to the front entrance of the camp. The vehicle travelled at speed, kicking up dust as it headed towards them.

  5

  Vincent finally reached the front of the line in the medical tent. The stiff-looking woman behind the counter seemed as unapproachable as could be – clad head-to-toe in combat fatigues like their other guardians. He’d never seen her before, and he was certain that spelt trouble.

  Before he stepped up to the counter, he glanced behind him to the entrance. Emily stood just outside. She was pushing the limits of his instruction to stay close by, but that was Emily. For the time being she was relatively free of pain. However, even at that distance, Vincent could see the swelling forming on her right cheek. She stared at the ground in front of her, kicking at one of the tent pegs with her tiny red boots.

  ‘Are you with us, sir?’

  Vincent turned back to the counter and was greeted by the stony expression of the female soldier. ‘Yes. It’s my daughter. She has an abscess under one of her molars. We’ve tried her with painkillers, but it just isn’t going to settle. Ideally, the tooth needs to come out. Of course, I understand you can’t do that right now, so I was hoping you had some antibiotics to fight the infection in the meantime.’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible. We’re down to the bare minimum here as it is,’ the woman said.

  ‘Look, I know how it is, but this is the third time the tooth has flared up and it’s absolute torture for a child of her age.’

  ‘I appreciate your situation, sir, but we don’t have the resources to deal with it at this time.’

  Vincent let out a despairing breath and drew the flat of his hand over h
is hair. ‘Can you at least give me some stronger painkillers?’

  ‘Nothing that would be manageable for a little girl. Try combining Paracetamol and Ibuprofen.’

  ‘We’ve already tried that and it barely makes a dent. She needs proper medical attention. If the abscess bursts and she swallows the pus, she could go into toxic shock.’ Vincent noticed the uncomfortable shift in the woman’s stance and then laughed ironically. ‘Jesus. You aren’t even a doctor, are you?’

  The woman straightened up again and looked from under the bill of her cap at him. ‘I’m a qualified chemist.’

  ‘That’s just great. When’s Doc Sanders coming back?’

  The woman paused for thought. ‘Doctor Sanders was killed during an operation in one of the infected zones over a week ago.’

  ‘He’s dead? Why wasn’t there an announcement?’ Vincent said.

  ‘Lots of our personnel have died during this conflict, and we are not obligated to notify the public every time it happens.’

  ‘You at least have a duty of care if it directly impacts us.’

  The woman sniffed and attempted to rein in the frustration that she clearly felt. ‘We have everything under control. Once the roads are clear, we have a backup doctor and a dentist standing by.’

  Vincent shook his head in disbelief and ran both hands through his silver-flecked hair. ‘You seem to have a lot riding on clearing these roads.’

  ‘Points of access are crucial during any conflict, sir. Now, I can give you some more of the medication you already have, but unless you want me to go into your daughter’s mouth myself with nothing more than a pair of pliers and good intentions, I suggest you sit tight and let us do our jobs.’

  He resisted the temptation of saying what he really wanted to say, instead turning his back on the medical counter all together. He soon forgot about the less than hospitable substitute doctor when he caught sight of the man bending down at the entrance of the tent, deep in conversation with Emily.