by Mark Tufo
Dee knew it for the ruse it was. “Admit you’re tired,” he demanded.
“Hey, I see how wide your mouth is,” I said implying that he was cooling himself off, although I was hunched over, hands on knees, taking in large chunks of air, my chest heaving.
“Fair enough. How close are we to this entrance? I am wounded and will need some medical attention.”
“What?”
Dee pulled his chest armor to the side to reveal a fist-sized hole in his side. Blood flowed from the wound.
“When the hell did that happen, Dee?” I asked in alarm.
“I believe it to be part of the Progerian fighter that was blown up.”
“Shit, Dee, why didn’t you say something?”
“Have you suddenly become a doctor?”
“No.”
“Would you be able to carry me?”
“No.”
“Then what was the purpose, other than to waste time like we are now?”
“Okay, let’s go. We’re almost there,” I said, now worrying for another friend. Although I was pretty sure he’d be alright, we’d just run at a decent pace for the last three miles and he had been on my heels the whole time. I did not want to think what would have happened had he been completely healthy, he probably would have run me over and not even known it.
***
Another ten minutes and we found ourselves inside one of the outer Hill tunnels. We had become the center of attention once it was discovered that we still lived.
Dee was shuttled off to the medical section.
“I’ll come see you later. Don’t eat anyone you’re not supposed to,” I told him
“I’ll try, but the fat one looks good,” Dee said, looking at a now shivering orderly.
“He’s kidding, I think,” I told the man who looked like he was going to bolt “Is the general in his office?” I asked one of the men trying to take Dee’s vitals but could not get the blood pressure cuff to fit.
“I believe so, sir.”
I had to gently push through the throng of folks gawking at Dee and congratulating me on our successful mission.
Tracy was just outside the major part of the crowd. “You had me worried, Talbot,” she said, fully embracing me in her arms which I thankfully returned. She buried her face in my shoulder. “They said you were dead.”
“I get that a lot,” I told her.
“Dennis is still missing,” she said, pushing back from me.
I wiped a hand across my face. “He saved us out there. We would have been dead if he hadn’t shot down an enemy fighter.”
“He left here with a squad of four men, against the general’s orders. Paul was pissed, I thought he was going to send out another squad to hunt him down and bring him back. So is it true? Do you have Spindler? We’ve been preparing for a rapid evac.”
“We got him and he didn’t have enough time to give us up. Come on, I’ve got to talk to Paul.” My heart slipped a beat as I saw Beth standing against the wall, watching. I didn’t say anything to her as Tracy and I headed toward Paul’s office.
Paul looked haggard, there was no other way to describe it. “It’s good to see you, Mike,” Paul said, standing and grasping my hand. “I thought I’d lost you both.”
“Dennis?” I asked.
“Sit, please.” Paul sat down heavily. “He’s dead, Mike.”
I felt like each word was hammered into my stomach with a baseball bat. I had to ask. “Are you sure?”
“I sent scouts out to see how this whole thing played out. They lost sight of you, but they were able to witness Dennis’ position overrun by the retreating Genogerians. It was an intense firefight but even if he had survived that, the bombs that came down next obliterated the entire region, even killing the Genogerians who had advanced past his position.”
I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. My head and stomach ached, now my soul was stretched thin it too ached.
“I can’t even wrap my mind around how much I’m going to miss him,” I told Paul, finally extracting my face from my hands.
Tracy grabbed my hand closest to her and squeezed gently. I looked over to her with red-rimmed eyes.
“I knew he was going to follow you, I almost put him under house arrest to stop him.”
“He saved my life, Paul. We wouldn’t have made it if not for him and his men,” I said. Paul nodded at all the right times, I knew he already knew, but I still had to say it.
“We’ll mourn his passing, Mike, but we’ve got other things going on now. The Progerians are amassing a huge landing party. My long range patrols had to get out of there before they were discovered, but we’re talking upwards of ten thousand Genogerians now afoot within twenty miles of here.”
I was never good at math, but I didn’t have to be to realize how bad the odds were becoming. At that moment and in the depths of my grief, I just wanted to go running straight into their landing with my rifle blazing. Even as I write this, I see the contradiction for what it is, how ungrateful would I be to go and needlessly get myself killed and negate Dennis’ surrendering of his life?
“Oh!” Tracy exclaimed.
“What?” I asked, half standing, thinking some other emergency was also playing out.
“I would have sworn I felt the baby kick.”
That thought alone brought a smile to my face, there was hope for the continuation of human life. I needed to fight to preserve it, not to die in martyrdom.
I would grieve for Dennis for a long time, I thought, but I would honor his death with a victory over the insurgents that the gods themselves would be proud of. Grandiose, I know, but that’s what I felt.
I touched Tracy’s flat belly. I didn’t feel anything and I didn’t know if it was even too early for her to feel anything. But if she was lying, she picked the right time and the right thing to lie about.
“I know we need to talk, Paul and soon, but I need to see how Drababan is doing and I need to be alone for a little while. Is that alright?”
“We’ll meet back here in five hours,” Paul said, coming from behind his desk to give me a hug.
“I’ll see you then,” I told him. “You coming?” I asked Tracy.
“I need to talk to her about our evacuation plan. She’ll catch up with you later.”
I gave Tracy a small kiss and with a heavy heart, lightened somewhat by the baby, I headed toward the hospital area.
I almost passed Beth by I was so deep in my despair.
“I heard,” she said reaching out with her hand.
I almost broke down in that hallway, sincerity was etched in her face. She couldn’t be this cunning, could she?
“Do you want to go talk about it?” she asked.
I never wanted to talk about it or even think about it again. I knew I would never be so lucky as for either of those things to happen. “I don’t, Beth. I’m going to check on Dee and then I think I’ll find out how many shots it takes to get to the bottom of a vodka bottle.”
“I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to blurt it out,” Beth stated.
I waited, Beth seemed to be weighing whether or not this was a prudent course of action.
“Do you really think Tracy is pregnant?” she asked.
It really took me a moment to process the information. Why would I even doubt Tracy’s words?
“I mean,” Beth continued, I think trying to make sure that I never got back on to firm ground. “It’s rather fortunate she is all of a sudden pregnant when I arrive.”
“I’m not sure if you’re arrival would have sparked a pregnancy,” I said, thinking more along the lines of the act itself as opposed to a lie created to thwart the attentions of another.
“I think she’s threatened by me, Mike.”
“She doesn’t need to be,” I said harshly, wishing to extract myself from this situation as quickly as possible.
Great, now I’d have one more thing to think about while I tried to drown my memories in fermented potatoes.
“I know you’re lying to yourself,” she said defiantly. “And I’m pretty sure so is she. That seems like a pretty bad way for a relationship to get started,” Beth said heatedly.
“Beth, I don’t think either of us needs to explain ourselves to you. Why are you not getting it? You told me ‘no’, I moved on. I don’t think it gets any simpler than that.”
“Not everything is black and white, Mike!” she was near to shouting. “I am the gray area and I am standing right here in front of you. I am telling you that I made a mistake and that I am willing to do anything to get you back!”
“Fuck!” I yelled. I was exhausted, I was grief stricken, and I was concerned for my friend. Her badgering was relentless. I didn’t know how much more I could take. “I can’t take this shit right now, Beth. I just lost my best friend, I have another friend in the hospital, and I’m about holding on by about this fucking much,” I yelled, my thumb and forefinger actually touching. She stepped back from the force of my words.
“Let’s leave this place, Mike,” she forged ahead. “It’s like we’re waiting for death to find us here. We can start over somewhere new.”
“What’s wrong with you, Beth? Beauty can sometimes shield you from some of the worst things in life but it shouldn’t make you ignorant. Where do you think we could go? Where would we be able to get this new mythical fresh start? You’d be so willing to leave these people behind? Some of these people that are ‘waiting for death’ are my family and friends.”
“You’re upset. I’ll talk with you later,” she said turning to leave.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” I said heading to where I had originally intended to go.
Dee was sitting up in a bed especially designed for him. “Ahhh, Michael how are you doing?” Dee asked lightly before he got a closer look at my face. “You have not received good news about your friend then?”
“He didn’t make it,” I told Dee, pulling up a chair.
“I would like to say that he died valiantly in the salvation of others, but your tone and set tell me that any consolatory words I utter will be misconstrued and thrown back at me with anger.”
“Dee, if we get through this, I really think you should go into psychiatry.”
“It would almost be too easy with your species,” Dee replied.
“Was that a joke?” I had to ask.
“Not at all. I am sorry for the loss of your friend, he was a brave man. There is nothing in those words that can be used against me in an argument, yet I feel the truth of them has lifted your heart a bit.”
“How you doing?” I asked, changing the subject. Dee’s uncanny ability to read me or any human for that matter was unsettling and I didn’t feel like letting him read chapter two of what I was feeling.
“I will allow the conversation to be steered away from what ails you, Michael. Perhaps we will revisit it when you’re ready. Your doctors don’t understand my physiology as well as I would like them to, but they are all in agreement that I should be fine as long as I do not get an infection.”
“Our antibiotics won’t work on you?” I asked.
“No, but they are checking your storeroom for any pet medications they feel might help.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “I’d hate for you to be my pet; man can you imagine the size of the mess you’d leave behind at a park?”
“I don’t see the humor,” Dee said flatly.
“No, but I do,” I told him. “How long until you’re up and about?”
“This is the most comfortable bed I’ve had in over a month. I think that I would like to lie in it for a few more hours.”
“No, rush Dee. Enjoy yourself, you’ve earned it.”
I left Dee and thought to seek out my brother. Instead I found myself inexplicably drawn to Dennis’ quarters. As an officer, he was afforded one of the few rooms that actually had a door. It was locked, but that was more of a challenge than an obstacle. I rifled through my pockets until I came across something I thought might work. It was a library card from the Walpole Library System that I had carried with me almost always after the fiasco with Spindler’s car. I considered it a lucky charm. I wished I had let Dennis borrow it.
The door opened and I got a sideways glance from a few people walking down the hallway, but no one stopped me or called me on it. I slid in and quickly shut the door as if I were doing something illegal. Technically, I was, but I didn’t think anyone would really care. I still didn’t know what I was doing there. A small envelope was lying on Dennis’ pillows. A chill rippled up my spine. It had my name on it.
“Is this a fucking joke?” I asked, looking around, expecting someone to jump out from some hidden partition. Nobody did and I moved hesitantly over to the white rectangle. I reached out, convinced I was going to get shocked as soon as my hand made contact. I felt an electricity as I grasped the cool paper but I thought that had more to do with an overactive imagination. I ripped the seal, it sounded loud in my ears. I wanted to leave, something did not feel right. Instead, I read the small note.
‘I’m glad you made it Mike. I knew you fucking would. It’s always been about you, buddy. Even when Paul and me were building this place it was always about you. When you disappeared, I never doubted that I would see you again. There’s always been something about you, my friend. I wasn’t jealous, but somehow your light always burned brighter than those around you. I often wondered how someone could glow so intensely and not burn out. You draw people to you, they can sense something too.
‘I followed you out today because I had to. Not by Paul, something higher, bro. I know, I know, you think I’m crazy, but I found out about your baby and I had to make sure that baby's father came home. My friend you saved my life once consider this a returning of the favor, I've loved you like a brother for years. I will hold a spot for you on the other side. I had a premonition I wasn’t going to make it and that I should write this note. So I guess, buddy, if you’re reading this, the premonition was right. And I’d do whatever I did again man, because from day one you were my friend. There I was a Yankee fan deep in Red Sox territory and you didn’t give a shit.
‘Don’t grieve too much for me. I knew what I was getting into and I did so willingly, however all this shit turns out, you are the cog on which this whole thing turns. I’ll be watching, so don’t let me down and I’ll save a spot wherever the hell I end up. I should probably scratch ‘hell’ out. Good luck, Mike, I love you bro.’
“I love you too, Dennis,” I said through tear-blurred eyes. I carefully folded the note back up and put it back in the envelope and then into my back pants pocket. My heart was simultaneously lifted and dragged down, it was a strange sensation. My goal had been to get absolutely blitzed on some cheap homemade booze. That feeling had passed.
“If I was supposed to live, then for some effed up reason, so was Spindler,” I said as I gently closed Dennis’ door behind me. I did not then realize the finality of the act, but I would never again enter that room. Within ten minutes, I found myself outside the detention area. Paul had seen the need to lock Spindler up, not that he was going anywhere, but Paul wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going anywhere while he was here. It sounds strange as I write that, but it makes perfect sense.
“Hello, sir,” The prison guard stated.
“I’d like to see Spindler,” I told him.
“The general thought you might.”
“I’m not really keen on everyone guessing my next moves and then being right.”
“Sir?” the guard questioned.
“Nothing. Can you just point me in the right direction?”
“Third door on the left,” he said pointing down the hallway. “Here you go, sir,” the guard said handing me a door key.
I had no sooner slid the key into the lock when Spindler cried out.
“Come to beat a confession f
rom me!” he yelled, maybe trying to instill some nerve into himself.
“Hello, Spindler,” I said as I walked in.
He did not look happy to see me.
“My name is Yerdly.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He flashed me some very angry eyes. “I’m just going to stick with Spindler.”
“What do you want?” he asked resignedly.
“I think you know something,” I said, pulling up a folding chair and sitting near him. He did not seem comfortable with the distance between us, apparently I was invading his personal space.
“I am not some master spy in whatever drama is unfolding in your head. I am a scared, middle-aged man trying to survive.”
I almost yelled at him that he was trying to survive on the deaths of his fellow man, but I restrained. Nothing would be accomplished if we became confrontational.
“There’s a reason we’re here. You and me, Spindler.”
“Are you getting existential on me, Mr. Talbot?” he asked.
“I might be. But I have reason to believe there is a higher authority working here.”
“Please,” Spindler answered sardonically. “I would think you too intelligent to fall for the opiate of the masses.”
“Why, Mr. Spindler, are you a Leninist?” I laughed.
“I have also not seen a reason in my life to believe in the Easter Bunny.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re such a bitter man,” I shot back, my mouth working much faster than my mind. ‘Dammit!’ I yelled in my head. I was witnessing Spindler in real time withdrawing from our conversation. “Sorry,” I said sincerely. “That’s not what I meant to say.”
“Oh, I think it’s exactly what you wanted to say, but your apology seemed real enough. Why are you here, Mr. Talbot? Certainly not to taunt me.”
“There’s a reason I lived today. There’s a reason you lived today.” My right hand absent-mindedly felt the pocket where Dennis’s letter was.