by Urban, Tony
“I do it because it needs done. And because when I look into their eyes I don’t see monsters, I see people who are dead but because of some awful cruel twist of fate, they aren’t allowed to die. So, I give them that end they deserve. Not because they’re evil, but because they’re just as much victims in this as me and you.
“That boy today, he’s the first living person I’ve seen outside these walls in five months. And you know, I’d started to think it really was over, that there wasn’t anything left alive out there. That we were all that remained. But when I saw that kid, I realized I was wrong and I ain’t never been so happy to be wrong before. That’s why I brought him back. Because that boy means there’s a chance. That there’s still hope.”
He looked down but before he did Ramey could see his eyes were wet. She again reached out and grabbed onto his hand and he again tried to pull away, but without as much force and she held on. “My God, Wim. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything you’ve seen and everything you’ve had to do.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. You’ve been saddled with all this shit because you’re stronger than the rest of us, but that doesn’t make it alright.”
Ramey looked up into his light blue eyes and watched as the tears spilled down the lower lids and drew glistening trails down his cheeks until the water got caught up in the black stubble of his beard. Suddenly being safe didn’t matter. All that mattered was Wim.
“I hate that this place has pulled us apart. That you and my father don’t get along. That you’re stuck living in some piece of shit trailer and that they make you go out there and see and do those horrible things.”
She’d never seen him like this. So hurt and so wounded. She realized that maybe now he was the one who needed saved and she wasn’t going to let him down. “And after winter, if you still want to leave, we’ll leave.”
His mouth dropped open in shock and Ramey couldn’t help but think he looked as surprised as a little boy who just saw Santa Claus climbing down a chimney. “You’d do that?”
She nodded, squeezing his hand tight. His palms were sweating. She thought about her father. She didn’t know if she could really go through with leaving him, but she hoped in time that would change because the man standing in front of her now was her future.
“I never said this out loud, but I love you, Wim. I don’t know the exact moment it happened but I can tell you that I haven’t stopped.”
Wim stared at her so long Ramey thought he might kiss her, but instead he took her face between his calloused, working man palms.
“That night on the farm. When you sat down beside me in front of the bonfire and laid your head against my shoulders.”
She waited for him to go on. He didn’t. “What about it?”
“That’s when it happened.”
“When what happened, Wim?”
“That’s when I fell in love with you.”
Then Wim leaned in to her and they kissed, really kissed, for the first time. And even though they didn’t do anything more than kiss, it was as perfect a moment as she’d ever experienced in her 19 years of life.
Chapter 9
The seventy or so residents of the Ark congregated inside a wood sided building which was large enough to house twice that number. Most sat in folding chairs, feet shuffling, fingers tapping. They are a nervous bunch, Wim thought.
It was cool inside the cavernous room but sweat seeped through Wim’s pores as he stood in the rear corner, trying to stay in the shadows. None of the natives had said a word to him since he arrived, but several angry looks had been hurled his way like daggers. He never did like being the center of attention and was even less fond of it now. The only person who seemed to look at him with compassion was Delphine Boudreaux. He caught her staring his way several times and once he even thought he saw a smile.
Wim didn’t know much about Delphine, and it seemed neither did anyone else. The rumor was that she lived on the island before it became the Ark and that, while she wasn’t part of Doc’s original group, she was still privy to some of the inner workings. She had long braided hair which hung thick as a rope halfway down her back. It was white with dirty blonde streaks, but it seemed near impossible to tell her age for certain. Sometimes Wim thought she looked 50, others 70. He’d only had conversations with her in passing, but of all the people associated with the Ark, she was one with whom he felt he might share some common ground.
But right now, the only person he cared to see was Ramey and she sat in the front, stealing glances his way but not risking a reaffirming smile or nod. Not that Wim blamed her. He wouldn’t have wanted to look like his own ally right now, not amongst this bunch.
When Doc arrived with Phillip and Ellen Sideris, the Ark’s only actual physician, the crowd had risen to their collective feet, an act which both dismayed and disgusted Wim. He’d grown to understand how cult leaders like Jim Jones and David Koresh did it. He could only hope that Doc wasn’t as evil as those men. But, if he had been a betting man, he thought those odds were quite poor.
After a few brief paragraphs reminding everyone why they were there, Doc got to the meat of it.
“We lost two of our own yesterday. Clark was an original member of the Ark. One of our hardest and most loyal workers. He was integral to establishing life here and keeping us safe. Life here will not be the same without him. And Caleb Daniels, although he arrived here after most of us, will also be missed. I’d like to take a moment of silence in their memory.”
Wim watched as most of the people in the room shut their eyes and bowed their heads. He dipped his a bit, but kept his eyes open. He watched as Doc, Ellen Sideris, and Phillip huddled in a brief, hushed conversation up front. It ended before the supposed moment of silence and after two or three beats, Doc resumed speaking.
“And as you also know, William Wagner brought a very, very sick young man into the Ark.”
Nearly every head in the room swiveled in Wim’s direction. It made him feel a bit like a contestant who had just been chosen to compete on The Price is Right but no one was cheering him on and he was not inclined to rush the stage.
“Doctor Sideris,” Doc tipped his head toward Sideris, a slight, but hard woman in her sixties with skin the color and consistency of shoe leather. “Is caring for the young man. At the present, he is unconscious and heavily sedated while we wait to see if the treatment is successful.”
“What if he turns into a zombie?” Someone in the crowd shouted. A flurry of murmurs followed.
Doc waved his hands in a ‘keep calm’ gesture. “I understand your fear. Your worries. And I share them. If just one of the infected dead should gain access to the Ark it could - likely would - mean the end for us all. That’s why we’ve taken precautions. This patient is not being housed in the clinic. He’s confined to a portion of the research lab where he is, I assure you, no threat.”
The chorus of murmurs slowed, then ceased. Wim couldn’t understand how they could so easily be manipulated by the man at the microphone. How did so many sheep fall under the care of this wolf?
“Yet even though we are safe, this situation could have gone dramatically different. I understand that Mr. Wagner threatened one of our own with a firearm. Harvey?”
Harvey aka Hal, stood. “That’s true, Doc. I told him that boy was dangerous and he showed me his gun and I knew I didn’t have no choice in the matter.”
Doc nodded and Hal sat. “And when they reached the gates, Mr. Wagner forced his way inside and stole the recreational vehicle belonging to Vincent Dufresne.”
Vince nodded, but didn’t speak. It didn’t matter though, Wim thought, because this wasn’t a trial, it was an inquisition.
“Mr. Wagner, do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Wim considered staying silent, but as he stared into the angry and confused faces that filled the room, which peered back at him accusingly, he felt it only fair to explain himself rather than let Doc’s version of events muddy t
heir thinking.
“I do and I’ll keep it short. Two men with whom I’ve gone on countless supply runs died yesterday. Why, Caleb was ripped in half and despite that he still came back as a zombie. I had to put him down, along with Clark and the two zombies that killed and turned them in the first place. It wasn’t the first time I’ve seen terrible things out there nor was it the first time I’ve had to use my gun to put an end to suffering. Because that’s what it is. Suffering.”
He’d hoped to find compassion in the crowd but saw none.
“And after that, while I made my way back here with the food and grain we’d all risked our lives to gather, I came upon the boy. Yes, he was sick. Yes, he might be dying. But yesterday, he was alive. And as far as I’m concerned, life still matters. Maybe it even matters more now than ever before because there’s so little of it left. But I made a choice to try to save a life and no matter what anyone here tries to say, nothing will convince me that it was the wrong choice.”
Whispers and hushed conversations spread through the crowd like a fire. Wim thought he might have won them over, or at least made them think. Maybe Doc sensed it too because he was quick to speak up.
“No one is doubting that your heart was in the right place, Mr. Wagner. But as you well know, these are dangerous days we are living through. And if we want to live, we must protect our home here at the Ark. That is why we have these walls. Why we have our rules.”
The voices stopped and all eyes were trained on Doc. Wim knew he’d lost.
“We are a community of rules. And we cannot allow anyone to flaunt them with impunity.” Doc glared at Wim. “Yes, Mr. Wagner life matters. Our lives matter. And your foolhardy attempts at being a hero put every man, woman, and child here at risk.”
Wim caught sight of Ramey, her face panicked. She went to stand and Doc somehow sensed it. He stared her down. “No one is above the rules.”
Ramey slumped back into her seat.
“That’s why the council has decided that, as punishment for his reckless actions, his use of force against Ark residents, and his wanton disregard for the safety of this community, Wim Wagner must spend one week in the box”
The murmurs, louder now, returned and that time Ramey did jump to her feet.
“A week! That’s too long!” She looked from her father to Wim. Back and forth. “Dad, he’ll die!”
Wim wanted to tell her not to argue, not to get involved, but before he could do so much as nod his head in her direction, three members of the security force grabbed him by the arms and shoulders. Wim was bigger than each of them, but three against one wasn’t much of a fight. Not that he intended to fight them anyway. Doing so would only make things worse, if worse was possible.
“Mr. Wagner brought this on himself. The decision has been made and it is final.”
As the three men dragged him toward the rear exit, Buck whispered in his ear. “Yyyy- You done it now. Gggg- Glad I ain’t you.”
Wim ignored him and saw that Phillip had retreated to the exit. As Wim was pulled past him, the cop grinned revealing almost all his oversized teeth.
“That’s a long time with no food or water. I don’t think you can do it, big fella. I think we’ll be pulling a zombie out of that box.”
Wim considered doing the right thing and keeping his mouth shut, but then decided he may as well use his words, especially since they might be some of his last. “Either way, I’ll be sure to look for you first.”
Phillip’s smile faltered and he raised his hand as if to hit him, then seemed to realize there was a roomful of people watching. Instead he leaned close enough for Wim to smell his breath.
“Just know that, after you croak in that hole, it’ll be my shoulder Ramey cries on. That bitch wants me and I’m gonna fuck her raw.”
The others dragged him away and Wim refused to look at anyone as he was shuffled out of the meeting hall, through the expanse of the courtyard, and toward the box.
Chapter 10
Dr. Ellen Sideris leaned over the boy, who wasn’t a boy at all. “No. I’d estimate his age at sixteen. Perhaps seventeen.”
Doc peered over her shoulder and looked down. The boy was naked, revealing a body that was thin, almost undeveloped. “I would have thought younger. He doesn’t even have pubic hair.”
Sideris used a gloved hand to shift the boy’s penis from side to side. “He shaves them off.”
“You don’t say.” Doc took a closer look and saw she was correct. “Boys do that too now?”
“I’m no expert on adolescent male grooming trends, but this one does.” She pushed a scalpel into the young man’s festering, decayed flesh and sliced hunks of it free from his wounded face. Sideris kept her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a practical bun. She had small, deep-set eyes which were, at best, muddy brown in color. Her face was plain, long, and devoid of emotion, which Doc felt was her best trait aside from her intellect.
“Don’t feel obligated to devote too much of your time on this one,” he said. “He appears beyond saving.”
Sideris glanced up at him but didn’t remove the blade from the boy’s skin. “I’ve always appreciated a challenge.” Her eyes returned to the boy as she trimmed off a quarter-inch thick section of necrotic skin. Blood oozed from the wound, trickled down the contours of his head and neck, then pooled on the metal table upon which he laid.
Doc had met Sideris at a medical conference in Atlanta four years earlier where she was giving a lecture titled, ‘How Extinction Events Benefit the Planet’. What it lacked for in creativity, it made up for in substance. Afterward, he approached her in the hotel lobby and offered to buy her a drink. She requested a gin and over the next four hours they became fast friends. He didn’t reveal his plans that night. That came later, but when it did she became an eager member of the growing cabal.
“What have you been up to in that dungeon of yours?” She asked.
Doc hesitated. It was only a beat, but long enough for her to catch.
“Keeping secrets again, I see.”
Sideris was one of his closest confidants, but he wasn’t willing to divulge his plans just yet and decided to change the subject. “What do you believe happened to him? Was he attacked?”
“By a zombie? Certainly not,” Sideris said. “I suppose this could have occurred in some sort of accident, perhaps being ejected through a car windshield. But the injuries are contained to his face. I’m relatively certain someone did this to him.”
“Tragic. It makes you wonder just how bad things have become out there.” Doc lifted one of the boys closed eyelids. The pupil constricted under the room’s bright fluorescents.
“I’ll take him when you’re done.”
She cast a brief dismissive look his way. “If he dies?”
“Dead. Alive. I’m not particular.”
Doc thought she sneered, but pretended not to notice. He motioned to a silver bowl where she’d deposited the patient’s excised flesh. “I assume you have no further use for this?”
Sideris didn’t answer and Doc scooped up the bowl while she took out a suture needle and thread and began closing the wounds. It wasn’t a pretty job. Sideris was no plastic surgeon, but Doc didn’t think it mattered.
Chapter 11
Wim had no watch so he had no idea how long he’d been in the box but small cracks that had previously allowed light to spill inside had gone dark so he supposed it was five hours at least. Only 140-some to go he thought.
It was cold, but not unbearable. Not yet anyway. He debated whether he might have preferred being confined here in the heat of summer versus the cold of winter and decided the latter was for the best. In the summer, he’d have already been desperate for a drink.
Part of him thought it was a bluff. Surely, they knew he could’ve live seven days without so much as a sip of water. He thought there was a fair chance he’d be let out on the morning, a sort of early parole that came with a warning that the next time the punishment would be for real. He didn’t know if
he really believed that a possibility, but the thought kept his mind at ease even as the temperatures fell and the cold metal against his back had shifted his skin from numb to a constant, throbbing buzz. He tried to alter his position, to keep himself away from the metal, but the box was too small. It’s barely bigger than a coffin, he thought, then tried to chase away that image.
He drifted to sleep sometime through the night and was awoken in the morning not by the light of day but by an explosive banging against the thin walls. He jolted into a sitting position. He’d been right after all. They were letting him out.
“Rise and shine, Wim, No sleeping on the job.”
It was Phillip’s voice, tight with angry, mocking glee. “Get your forty winks in?”
Wim knew he wasn’t getting out from Phillip’s tone. He thought about going with the silent treatment, then decided that was no fun. “Fifty, actually.”
“Oh yeah? I guess the box is probably a step up from whatever shanty shit hole you grew up in. Did you even have indoor plumbing?”
“We did. Color TV too.”
Phillip gave another smack against the metal siding and the reverberations rang through Wim’s eardrums like thunder.
“You stay awake now. I’m going to get breakfast. Pancakes, grits, and a ham steak. Might eat your helping too while I’m at it.”
Wim felt his belly tighten and give a greedy rumble. Don’t be a traitor, he told it. He’d get through this, if for no other reason than to look Phillip in the face when he got out and act as if he’s just spent a few days in the Ritz Carlton and not a box too small to stand up or turn around in.
