by R A Doty
The chopper hovered overhead, the ocean whipped and scratched into a million different directions. All while Brian gripped the log with outstretched arms like Hercules holding the earth in his hands.
“Are you sure the signal is coming from this location?” one of the men yelled in the chopper.
“I’m positive,” another answered. “The signal’s never wrong.”
“I’m not seeing anything below but some driftwood. If he’s down there he’s either a corpse on the bottom of the ocean, or he managed to dig the chip out of his wrist and stick it in that log. Other than that, there’s no way he’d be able to hold his breath for that period of time.”
“Let’s head back and tell Weston he drowned.”
Now more than ever Brian needed Shannon. She would have been proud of him if he could just hold his breath for a few more minutes. But she was gone. It didn’t really matter if the chopper was still there, or if he could hold his breath longer than another man. It was all pointless, he thought, pulling himself to the surface. As he filled his lungs with air, he watched the chopper heading back toward the glass city in the ocean. He grabbed the log and continued swimming to the mainland.
THE heat of the bonfire was intense. If one stood too close they’d risk catching on fire. It was better to keep a safe distance from the pile and throw the next body, on the count of three. They started out by burying the dead, but it was taking too long and there was no way of keeping up with the new ones being brought in by the truckloads. Fire was also the best way to kill any disease that lingered in the rotted flesh.
It was Brian’s least favorite thing to do on a warm summer’s day. He preferred unloading the truck filled with the living. Or, as he considered them—the soon to be dead. Everybody was probably going to die at some point: most, sooner than later. But at least the living could exit the truck on their own. He didn’t have to grab an arm or a leg to pull them off. It used to bother him when they slammed against the ground, sometimes face first, but he eventually grew accustomed to the thud. It was just a job. No different than the job the crows had as they pecked the cooled flesh that remained on the bones of the burned. It was all part of the new cycle of life. But the heat was intense. Too damned intense, especially to a big guy like him. His forehead felt raw from wiping away the sweat. He would sometimes have to walk away to find a quiet place to rest, a place where the crows couldn’t be heard, or the stench of burned flesh couldn’t be smelled. But there was no escaping the sun. He would lie on his back, his arm shielding his eyes, hard concrete under his head, and dream he was someplace else: usually the beach. Shannon would be lying next to him wearing a white bikini, the waves of the ocean gently climbing the sand, a salty breeze caressing his face. He slowly opened his eyes when he felt a hand shaking his arm. Shannon?
“I think he’s dead, David.”
“The Lord wouldn’t have brought him to us just to kill him.”
The sun baked Brian’s face, and he could barely open his eyes to the light. But he tried. His body followed, realizing it needed air; the state of sleep fleeting fast as it was slowly replaced by consciousness. After a deep breath, a streak of burning light touched his eyes. He squeezed them shut for a second before trying to open them again. This time the light wasn’t so bright. The time after, he was able to open them wide. Two tall figures stood before him. Men.
“And the Lord giveth,” one of the men said, a wide smile crossing his face. The man knelt on one knee and placed his hand on Brian’s head. “You’re safe now my son. Can you speak?”
For a brief moment Brian thought, of course I can speak. I’m a grown man for Christ’s sake. But then the impact of the question hit him like a punch to the face. He remembered the metallic device pulling his mouth open, his jaws feeling like they would pop from his skull at any moment. He remembered the smell of his own flesh burning from inside his throat. And then he remembered how his words were replaced with a terrible hiss—a sound he vowed never to make again. He shook his head in response to the question, his eyes refusing to focus on anything but the sky.
The man spoke again. “Do you have a name, son? You can scratch it in the sand.”
Brian thought of the life he once had. The beautiful woman who would have become his wife, the children they would have someday had, and the house they would have lived in where he’d play catch in the front yard with his son. He almost smiled thinking about it. But then he remembered the little boy he tried to save and the look on the child’s face as he was dragged away. Alan. He was glad he remembered his name, as if the boy would live on forever as long as he remembered his name. He remembered Shannon’s last words as he left that morning, I think I’m old enough to take care of myself, and a rage filled his entire body. A feeling so strong he curled his hands into tight fists. He forced himself to empty every one of those thoughts from his head. To forget them forever. They made him feel weak, and if he were to survive in this world he would have to be strong. He shook his head again in response to the man’s question and dug his hands into the sand to elevate himself to a sitting position. After a slight feeling of dizziness, he stood to his feet.
The man kneeling next to Brian jumped to his feet as well. He studied the silent stranger that had miraculously washed upon the shore. He smiled, admiring the size of the goliath standing in front of him. “Are you hungry?”
Brian surveyed the land before him. The sand of the beach bordered a tall brown grass that intertwined between a sporadic placement of trees. In the distance, well behind the trees, stood a city Brian had never before seen. He wondered if it was still inhabited by people. If so, that would bring him pleasure. But not to help the people, as the old Brian would have done, this time he would take pleasure in taking what he wanted from them. Anything he wanted. His Id was now in charge, as Freud would have said. He looked down at the man standing in front of him and considered his question. Hunger wasn’t exactly what he was feeling right now; ravenous would describe it much better. Brian nodded to the man, before turning to glance at the ocean. He couldn’t pull his gaze from the city rising up from the waves. When a hand touched his arm, he turned quickly in its direction.
“My name’s David,” the man standing beside him said. David slowly retrieved his hand, assuming it would be ripped from his arm at any moment if he didn’t. “If you follow us, we will feed you.”
Brian looked at David and then at the other man. He should have been leery of them but he wasn’t. He felt invincible. If either of them pulled out a knife he would murder both of them within seconds. In fact, he hoped it would happen, if for no other reason than to kill again. Only this time he would feel no remorse as he did when he strangled the woman who was about to butcher him. This time he would enjoy every second of it. He noticed the black bag the man standing next to David was carrying, so he lunged toward him and grabbed it. After opening the bag and confirming the scanner he had taken was still inside, he zipped it back up and flung the strap over his shoulder.
“Shall we go?” David said, motioning his hand forward.
The three men started walking toward the city, their feet sinking in the sand until stepping onto the grass. Brian glanced back toward the ocean one last time before continuing forward.
David turned to the man walking behind him, who he truly believed was a gift from God. “If you think it suits you, and you have no other name, I would like to call you Cain.” The man nodded once, a slight smile forming in the corner of his mouth.
Chapter Ten
WHEN the men reached the city, the sun had already begun to descend in the sky. Its heat was now blocked by the tall buildings, their rectangular shadows stretching along the deserted sidewalks and streets like dark fingers searching for food. None of the remaining inhabitants of the city dared to leave the safety of their dwellings once the sun had set; that was the time when the hunters came out. The hunters usually traveled in packs of three or four, but it wasn’t uncommon for them to split up to search for unlocked doors. If
they found one, and anticipated hidden prey, a loud whistle would bring the others.
Footsteps were heard running in the distance, and the three men turned in that direction to see a man running down an alley, his arms filled with what looked like supplies he must have salvaged from one of the many abandoned stores that were now boarded up with plywood. He quickly vanished into a side door of a brick building. The three men continued walking.
David didn’t fear the hunters. He was the leader of the largest pack in the city. A self-righteous man who believed he himself was chosen by God. To know him was to fear him, although his quiet demeanor would lead one to believe otherwise. He would continually search for new members to join him in his battle against evil, and as he walked to his church with his latest recruit following closely behind, he knew his fight would be an easy victory from this day forward. Never before had he seen such a powerful man. His face beamed with pride as he climbed the steps to the grand entrance, the two men right behind him. He stopped and turned before opening the door. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you as part of our family, brother Cain. You are welcome to anything we have in return for your unwavering loyalty.” David opened the large door to the church. “Shall we enter, gentleman?”
Cain. The name was sinking in. Brian was no more. It was an easy name to accept. A new name for a new person. He no longer had to do what was right and he would take whatever he wanted. Why the hell not? That seemed to be what everyone else was doing, so why shouldn’t he enjoy what this new world had to offer? He followed David into the church and stopped as the heads turned in his direction. He scanned the people sitting in the pews, some old, some children, more males than females, but that didn’t matter. The males posed no threat and the females were plenty enough. But first he needed food. He continued walking, studying each face as he passed, sizing them up.
David would normally introduce the new members to the congregation as soon as they arrived, but the urgency to feed his latest member took precedence over protocol. He led Cain straight to the kitchen and commanded the cook to prepare a feast for his new recruit.
Cain sat at the head of a long wooden table. The only other person in the room was David, who popped the cork from a bottle of wine he retrieved from a cabinet. While waiting for his meal, Cain drank one glass of wine after another as David continued to refill his goblet. The dry, yet sweet liquid tingled every taste bud in his mouth. This is how kings must have lived he thought, eagerly awaiting the food. When the plate was finally placed on the table, Cain immediately grabbed one of the large pieces of meat and began to tear it apart with his teeth. Before his mouth was anywhere near empty, he grabbed another piece and repeated the process. It was hot and salty and tender against his tongue. It seemed like a sin to have to swallow and end the sensation, but there was plenty more on the plate where that came from. He grabbed another piece and then another, occasionally flushing it all down his throat with a generous gulp of wine. When his stomach couldn’t possibly hold another bite, Cain sat motionless in the chair with his head leaned slightly to the side. After allowing the food to settle in his stomach, and drinking the last of the bottle of wine, his attention was drawn to the young woman who entered the kitchen.
David noticed Cain’s regard for the woman. “Feel free to enjoy whatever you’d like, Cain.” He glanced at the woman, whose eyes widened. She dared not disagree with him. “I’m sure we’d all do whatever is necessary to make you comfortable.”
When the woman reached for Cain’s emptied plate, he grabbed her arm and jumped to his feet like a wild animal seizing its prey. The woman shrieked. Cain led her out of the kitchen and down a hallway. He didn’t know where he was going, but that didn’t matter. He opened the first door, and when he saw a bed he pulled the woman into the room. Another woman walked out of a bathroom. A wide smile crossed Cain’s face. The woman hurried toward the door, but Cain blocked her path. For a moment he had considered letting her pass, but kindness had left with Brian. He grabbed her arm and pushed her and the first woman toward the bed. He did indeed like this new world.
WHEN Cain opened his eyes the next morning, it took him a few minutes to remember where he was. He hadn’t had the privilege of drinking wine for quite a while, so when he turned his head to see if the women were still with him his eyes felt like they were about to explode. He immediately raised his hand to cover them. Sitting up was out of the question for now. As he lay sideways on the bed with his hand covering his face, he thought about the city in the middle of the ocean. What a messed up place. Or was it? He wondered what life was like for the man in charge of that place. Being the head of an entire city. Cain smiled at the thought. But was it better to be in charge, or to reap the benefits without having the responsibility of taking care of the people. He liked the idea of the second option better. And that’s exactly what he stumbled into. Sure, he could go back to his old life of helping people in need, but where’d that get him? He remembered a saying he had heard before: No good deed goes unpunished. No, he was right where he wanted to be. He had food, shelter, the protection of David and his people, and above all, all the women he could ever want. What more could a man ask of life?
With his eyes still tightly closed, and his hand pushed up to his face, he tried to sit up. Breathing came hard, and his head began to throb, but once the blood had entered his brain the throbbing had quieted to a meager pounding. A small price to pay for this new life. He removed his hand and opened his eyes. The room he had chosen was clean and neatly kept. A small table sat next to the bed, and on the table sat a lamp with a black shade. Gold fringe adorned the edge of the shade. Across the room, near the foot of the bed, sat a white dresser with a mirror on top. Various small bottles and tins took up most of the space atop the surface. Cain eyed the bottles. A woman’s room.
When Cain saw the door to the bathroom, he pressed onto the mattress with both hands and lifted himself to his feet. After retaining his balance, he walked forward. A white porcelain sink was his first target, and his large hand twisted one of the chrome faucet handles until a steady stream of cold water hissed into the basin. He cupped his hands and splashed the water onto his face. It was invigorating. He did this three more times before drying himself with a towel hanging on the wall beside the sink. Cain then stared in the mirror just above the sink. His jawline was dark with whiskers and his short-cropped hair had begun to grow out. When he opened his mouth, he leaned closer to the reflection of his new face. Cain’s face. Nothing looked different, but the back of his throat was a much darker shade of pink than the rest of his mouth. He slowly turned his head toward the bedroom door when he heard the three knocks. Before walking to the door, he looked into his mouth one last time, as if it would make a difference.
David was somewhat surprised to see Cain standing naked in the doorway. “Good morning, brother Cain,” he said. “I brought you some new clothes. I thought you might be tired of those white scrubs you were wearing when we met. Were you in a hospital or something?” Cain said nothing. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t speak.” He held up the black bag. “You left this in the kitchen, I thought you might want it. I’ll just put it on the bed, along with these items.”
David walked past him carrying a medium-sized brown box. He emptied the box onto the bed and turned to Cain, who was still standing in front of the open door. David walked back and closed the door. He then reached down to the floor and grabbed the white clothing Cain was wearing when he found him. “I’ll dispose of these,” he said, placing them into the box. “You slept well, I assume.” Cain responded with a nod. “Excellent.” David held up the black denim jeans from the pile of clothing on the bed. “I hope these fit. Clothes are so hard to come by nowadays.” He dropped the pants back into the pile and started to separate the remaining clothes. He grabbed a pair of leather work boots and held them up as well. “There’s still a lot of life left in these. We have others if they don’t fit. We also have hot water, so feel free to use the shower, and
after you get dressed just come out and we’ll make you some breakfast.”
Cain backed up slightly as David walked back to the door and left the room. The thought of a hot shower sounded great. He immediately remembered being hosed-down when he was imprisoned in the city in the ocean. Two guards would lead him and the other men, one at a time, to a separate room where one of the guards would hose each of them down with cold water while the other would stand alert with his weapon drawn. The water was so cold it seemed to burn his skin. Cain shivered, remembering the ritual, and headed to the bathroom. Within seconds the shower steamed with hot water and he was soon feeling the warmth on his face. After taking a shower he toweled off and noticed a razor on a glass shelf just above the sink. A shave would be good, but he would let his hair grow out. It was a compromise both Brian and Cain would agree to.
Chapter Eleven
AFTER nine months, Cain had easily settled into his new lifestyle. For now, food was abundant, his shelter was comfortable and safe, and wine and women were plentiful. Life was good. His size alone prevented the other male members of the congregation from challenging him, though he would have gladly welcomed an opportunity for conflict. Any chance he had to release some of his bottled-up rage was always welcomed. He no longer had to worry about anyone but himself. But that would soon change.