Famine

by R A Doty

  “Where’s the younger of the two girls, David? Have you finished speaking with her? Her sister is worried.”

  “Do you know why we were put on this earth?” David asked. He continued without waiting for a response. “We were put here to be fruitful and multiply. But in doing so, mankind has abused the grace of God by doing whatever he pleases without consequence. That’s why mankind’s numbers have diminished to near extinction levels. But trust me sister Betty, mankind will not become extinct.” David walked to the podium and thumbed through the Bible. Not looking for anything in particular, but finding satisfaction in knowing that whatever decisions he chooses to make, they can all be justified in the book before him. The touch of the pages gave him comfort, their smoothness pleasing to his fingers as he carefully turned each one as if it would vanish if held too tight. “The lord will protect those of us who abide by his will without prejudice. That is why we still exist when others have perished.” His expression hardened, his eyes seemingly darker. “The girl you speak of has no regard for our lord Jesus Christ. It is our duty to rid the earth of the sinners like her so that the faithful may be fruitful and multiply as our Lord had originally intended. Only this time, we will succeed.”

  “But David, she’s just a child. She’s not old enough to understand the will of God.”

  “Without prejudice, sister Betty. Satan takes on many shapes in his quest to corrupt. We have to be strong and do what must be done.”

  “I beg you, David. Don’t do this. I can teach her the way of our Lord.”

  David left the podium and approached Betty. “You cannot be weak if we are to survive. We must do what has to be done.” He slowly circled her as he spoke. “Perhaps you aren’t strong enough to carry out the will of God. Perhaps Satan has a stronghold on you as well.”

  Betty shook her head. The line between life and death was ever present, and she knew she was becoming uncomfortably close to crossing it. If she hadn’t already.

  “I would do whatever is necessary to please our Lord. I was just trying to save one of God’s children from slipping further into the hands of the devil. He has claimed so many, it would be truly gratifying to deny him just one lost soul.”

  David studied her face. Presently, there was no reason needed to doubt her loyalty. Food would soon be abundant. God has provided once again. “The Lord has spoken to me and told me what must be done,” he said. “The decision is not mine. It is never mine.” David began to walk away, his voice echoing all the way to the thirty-foot high cathedral ceiling as he continued. “Tonight, we will feast on the bountiful harvest the Lord has given us.”

  AFTER dozing-off for what seemed like hours, maybe days, Calla awoke to the sound of a closing door. It sounded real, but perhaps she had heard it in a dream. She sat up from the bed and listened. Not a sound. It was easy to imagine what it would be like to be the last living person on earth. If one listens to silence long enough, it would surely drive you insane. What if everyone had already died while she was sleeping? She imagined sitting on the bed for hours, waiting for someone to come for her, but they never do. She felt a sense of loneliness that she had never before experienced. She’d always been surrounded by people in her life, so the thought of being alone in a silent world terrified her. The bedroom walls were closing in, the room becoming increasingly smaller and smaller. The air was heavy and hard to breath. Was she underground? Is it day or night? Where is everyone?

  She hopped off the bed and walked to the door. Her arm stretched forward, reaching for the knob. She pulled it back. She reached again, her fingers touching the white porcelain like a spider slowly climbing a wall. With a slight twist of the knob, the door popped loose from the latch, a sliver of light slipping into the room. The light became brighter as she pulled the door open. Another door faced her from across the hall. Still no sounds. She stepped forward. Both directions looked equally mysterious as she looked up and down the hallway. The left was the way to the kitchen, she was sure of it. Maybe. She turned that way and began walking. She wondered if she’d be able to remember which door she came from. She stopped and glanced back at the door. Above the door casing, positioned dead center, hung the number five. She looked at the door adjacent to it and noticed the number six. Why hadn’t she seen that when she looked at the door the first time? Regardless, she said, “number five,” over and over so she wouldn’t forget.

  When she noticed a ceiling-tile missing from a metal track, she knew she was headed toward the kitchen. She remembered it on the way back to the room after speaking with David. She quickened her pace, assured of at least some familiarity. The hallway ahead got much brighter, so she knew she was almost to the kitchen. And then she stopped immediately.

  A thin figure of a man had entered the hallway, his right arm hanging heavy with books or magazines. He looked as startled as she when he noticed the strange young woman standing quietly before him.

  “Excuse me,” Calla said. “I’m looking for my sister, have you seen her?” She walked forward. Slowly. Cautiously. “Her name is April.” The man had magazines. She could see, that, clearly now. She wondered what kind. Were they different than what she had read at Ancada?

  The man stood still, his body swaying slightly from side to side like the weight of the magazines was affecting his balance. He smiled. “Come here, honey,” he said, his voice sounding more like an elderly woman than a man. “Would you like to read my magazines with me?” He, too, began to walk forward, his eyes scanning the young lady from head to toe. Every curve under her white dress was clearly visible. His heart began to pound.

  When they approached each other, they both stopped. Calla smiled, excited to find someone still alive. She wasn’t the last person on earth. “So, have you seen my sister?” she repeated. “She’s a little shorter than me, and she has red hair and freckles on her face.”

  “I think so,” the man said. “I can take you to her if you’d like.”

  “That’d be great. Can we go now?”

  “Sure. We can look at these when we get there.” The man held up one of the magazines, a wide smile crossing his face as he waited for the young woman’s expression.

  Calla pressed her hand to her mouth when she saw the picture. Do people really do that? she thought. That’s so disgusting.

  The man slipped the magazine between the others in his arm and then grabbed her hand. “Just follow me,” he said, turning the woman in the direction he was headed. He stopped after two steps when he noticed a man standing in the distance. There was no mistaking Cain’s presence—a dark-haired monster-of-a-man with a black patch over his right eye. If death had a face it would be Cain’s. The thin man released the girl’s hand and headed in the opposite direction.

  “Aren’t you going to take me to my sister?” Calla asked, as the man scurried away like a roach startled by light. When the man vanished into the kitchen, she turned at the sound of the footsteps headed in her direction. This man frightened her as he neared closer. Having been unconsciousness after the boat had crashed, she had no idea this was the man that saved her from Ancada’s search party. She stepped backward and considered running, but it was happening so fast she didn’t have time to think. Before she could convince her feet to move, the man grabbed her and lifted her over his shoulder, fireman style. She kicked and pounded his back, but the man kept walking. “Let me go,” Calla yelled. “I have to find my sister.”

  Calla noticed the door with the number five hanging above it as they passed. The next door was seven, and the next nine. When they passed eleven, the man stopped and opened thirteen. He pulled her inside and hurried back out before closing the door. She ran over and tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. “You have to open the door. I need to find my sister.” She pounded with both hands. “Let me out!”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  BETTY returned to her room and discovered Calla was gone. She must have left to explore the church, she thought. She wouldn’t allow herself to lose both of them. Calla was her pa
tient, and if she couldn’t save her sister, April, she would do whatever was necessary to save her. She rushed out of the room and down the hall. In the distance, Cain was heading in her direction.

  “Cain. Have you seen, Calla?” she said, racing toward him. “The older of the two girls. I left her in my room, but now she’s gone.” Betty knew she would only get a yes or no gesture with either a nod or shake of his head, but she’d grown accustomed to communicating with Cain over the years. An expression on his face or a motion of his hand might tell her more. But before Cain had an opportunity to respond to the question, Betty stepped close to him and lowered her voice as she continued. “David plans to sacrifice her sister. I tried to convince him otherwise, but once his mind is made up it’s impossible to change it.”

  Betty no sooner finished speaking when she heard footsteps behind her. When she turned, David was heading in her and Cain’s direction. He stopped in front of Cain.

  “Will you excuse us, sister Betty?” he said.

  “Of course, David. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Betty exchanged a subtle stare with Cain before walking away. She knew exactly why David wished to speak with him. It was a conversation she had heard many times in the past, so she had a pretty good idea what he wanted. Soon after each time, another member of the congregation was sacrificed. Yes. Sacrificed. Murdered, she thought, each time it happened. But who was she to argue? She was one of the lucky ones who had something of value to offer. After ten minutes of waiting in her room, she was startled by the knock on the door. It was either David or Cain, she hoped Cain. It was.

  Cain entered the room with no intention of staying. He took Betty by the hand, left the room, and hurried down the hallway to his room. After unlocking and opening his door, he motioned for her to enter. They went inside and Cain closed the door behind them.

  Betty rushed over to Calla, who was sitting on the bed with her head sagging toward the floor. “Are you okay?”

  Calla slowly raised her head, an empty gaze focused on Betty. No matter how hard she tried, again and again, to protect April, she continued to find herself right back at the beginning of where it all started—she and April being kept apart from each other. It didn’t matter where they were, the mainland or Ancada, the results, she thought, would most likely always be the same. There was no reason to speak; she had nothing to say. Just an empty feeling of failure.

  Betty sat next to Calla and pulled her close. She wished she had some comforting words, but what could she say that wasn’t a lie? Perhaps, “it’ll be alright” or, “don’t worry, April will be fine.” She couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Sometimes no words are needed. Just a warm embrace.

  Cain turned and left the room. He had a job to do and there was no sense in delaying it. It was just a part of life that was inevitable. Eat or be eaten. No. It was more than that. Eat or die. It was really that simple, and he knew it. Necessity seemed to fuel his walk, and before long he was standing outside of the room that held April. He and David were the only ones with a key to the room. He reached into his pocket and pulled his out. After opening the door, he flicked on the light.

  April raised her head from her seated position in the corner of the room. With squinted eyes, she struggled to stand, her legs seemingly too weak to lift her body. Cain walked over and assisted her. With his hands on her shoulders, he balanced her to her feet and held her steady.

  “Thank you, Cain,” April said, remembering what Betty had called him when they helped Calla. She also remembered the name from reading the Bible. With her left hand, she touched the patch on his eye, her palm caressing his cheek. “You’re very brave.”

  When April lowered her arm, Cain noticed the triangular shape on the underside of her wrist. A shape he knew all too well. His wrist, too, bared the same mark. He studied the girl’s face and sensed a familiarity that eluded his memory. In an instant, he forbid himself to waste any more time on her. It was pointless. He took her hand and led her to David, who was now waiting by the podium. Many members of the congregation were already seated, waiting for the ceremony to begin. They were anxious for the feast that was to follow.

  Melvin and another man took the girl from Cain and lifted her onto the table, where they began strapping her down.

  “Bring me sister Betty and the other girl, Cain,” David said.

  With a nod, Cain turned and left the room. A few minutes later, he returned with Betty and Calla.

  “April!” Calla yelled, rushing to the table. She was stopped and held by Melvin and the other man. “Let me go. That’s my sister.”

  “David, is it necessary for Calla to be here?” Betty said.

  “Of course, it is,” David responded. “She must bear witness to her sister’s salvation. Would you deny her that, sister Betty?”

  “Take me in her place, I beg you.”

  Cain looked at Betty and then David, waiting for his response. Of all the sacrifices he has taken part in for David over the years, Betty would certainly be the hardest he would have to endure. He wondered if he could do it. Was he that devoted to this man, and if so, why? He’s not a god. When Cain first joined the church, it was out of necessity. It was an easy place to survive. He was welcomed with opened arms. Everything he wanted was handed to him. He easily fell into the new lifestyle. But now things were different. Harder. He questioned why he was still here.

  “You beg me?” David said. “You would so easily sacrifice yourself for a sinner?” David shook his head. “Your time is not now. I won’t allow it. But it will come soon, sister Betty. It will come soon.” David turned to Cain. “Let us begin.”

  Calla struggled with all her might to break free from the men. “Let her go. You don’t understand who she is.” Her arm slipped from Melvin’s hands, but she soon found herself wrapped tightly in his arms. So tight, she could feel his body pushing against her back. The stubble of his unshaven face against her cheek. His breath, hot and moist, against the nape of her neck. Everyone was focused on April, and not Melvin’s hands as they crept higher on Calla’s body. “Let me go,” Calla yelled, her voice unnoticed by the crowd waiting eagerly for the show to begin.

  Cain pulled the machete from it sheath. It was balanced perfectly as he raised it over his head. He stared down at the girl on the table, her face void of fear as she stared back at him. She didn’t struggle or try to break free from the straps holding her down. She was the brave one. His hand squeezed the weapon’s handle, as if it would make what he had to do easier.

  “Stop it. Let me go,” said Calla to the man holding her. She glanced at the man standing beside her with the machete, and screamed when it sliced forward through the air. When it hit its target, warm blood spurted on her chest and face. She closed her eyes, unable to process what had just happened.

  Cain released the handle of the machete. The act was complete. He stared down at April, his hand touching her face. He noticed the scar on her upper lip and gently caressed it with his thumb, remembering a small red-haired girl standing in a hallway with a cut on her lip. A cut he accidentally caused trying to escape. It’s her. He unbuckled the straps holding her down. With one swift scoop, he lifted April’s body from the table and held her in his arms, across his chest. He headed to his room, carefully stepping over Melvin, who had dropped to the floor, the machete still wedged into the side of his throat. Betty grabbed Calla’s hand and guided her away from the table to follow Cain and April.

  The congregation stood silent, most of their mouths agape. David looked down at Melvin, whose blood was now puddled around the entirety of his head and trickling toward David’s foot. David stepped back. Things had changed. But at least there was food. Isn’t that all that really matters anymore? The future of the church had never been so uncertain.

  WHEN Cain reached his room and lowered April to stand on her own, Calla immediately wrapped her sister in her arms. If she held her tight and never let go, she could protect her forever. But forever didn’t exist and life had to be allowed to co
ntinue—a play filled with uncertainty and an unpredictable ending. She released April and held her face between her hands. A quick kiss to the forehead revealed what a thousand words couldn’t express. Somehow, they managed to survive another obstacle.

  Cain opened the door, and Betty guided April and Calla into the room behind him. He immediately began busying himself by packing the things he wanted to take with him: a spare pair of jeans, a few shirts, some first aid necessities, the blankets on the bed, which he rolled and tied with a shoelace, and the black bag he took when he escaped from Ancada ten years earlier, the hand-held scanning device still inside. He quickly searched each of the drawers in the dresser and after finding nothing of value, slammed them shut again, one by one. After closing the top drawer, he slowly opened it again and grabbed the small ice-cubed shaped bottle of perfume he had offered to Janette on the day they first met. He studied the bottle, its contents now empty—memories of endless headaches he had to endure when a small girl used too much perfume trying to feel grown-up—and placed it in the black bag.

  “Thank you, Cain,” Betty said, touching his hand.

  Cain looked at her, a time long gone slowly fading from his memory, and nodded.

  “Why are you packing?” Betty asked. She knew Cain was very spontaneous and did what he wanted without asking permission from anyone. Is he leaving the church, and if so, what would become of her and the girls? She knew the answer to that, and it terrified her.

  Cain opened one of the dresser drawers again and pulled out a tablet and pencil. He rarely felt the need to use the tablet to communicate with anyone other than Janette, but he sensed the fear in Betty’s voice so it was necessary to fill her in on his intentions. He pressed the pencil to the paper and wrote one simple sentence. A sentence that would impact all of their lives.

  We’re leaving this place.