by Lopez, Rob
“Now open it up all the way to the ass.”
Josh felt the skin tear with an awful inevitability as the blade dragged down. The smell of the guts nearly made him gag.
“Reach inside and pull the guts out from this point here: lungs, intestine and stomach.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You have to.”
“Look, is this worth it? We’re not all going to eat this one squirrel, are we?”
“If it comes to it, yes. This is food, Josh. Don’t think of it as anything else. Do it.”
Josh touched the guts. It felt as disgusting as he thought it would.
“Grip it and pull it out quick.”
Josh tugged at the spongy mass, but the squirrel didn’t seem to want to let it go easy. Shutting his eyes, Josh yanked at it. It came away, sticking to his hand. He flicked it hastily away.
“Okay, that’s the easy part. Now you see this here? That’s the liver.”
Josh looked at the maroon oval that lined the back of the cavity he’d created.
“This is important,” said Rick. “First you check it isn’t discolored or covered in spots. If it is, it’s diseased, so you discard it. This little fella’s nice and healthy.”
Josh thought it looked distinctly healthier when it was still alive.
Rick peeled off the liver and, without hesitation, took a bite out of it.
“Now try a piece,” he said, blood still on his bottom lip.
Josh stared. This was turning into a bad dream. Okay, it was already a bad dream, but this was surreal and otherworldly. This was the kind of challenge you did for $5000 on a game show, with live cameras trained on you, daring you to quit. Burned out celebrities desperate to get back in the limelight did that, not twelve-year-old boys. Not unless it was some sick kind of initiation.
Josh summoned his last pool of defiance. “I don’t need to do this. There’s no reason for it. Why are you doing this to me?”
Rick deadpanned him. “It’s necessary. This is your first kill. In some tribes, this would be a moment of honor. Not buying that? Fine. Then I’ll tell you why you need to eat this raw. Humans don’t produce Vitamin C. Without fruit this winter, we’re going to get sick. Animals do produce their own Vitamin C, however, and it’s stored in their liver. And if you cook it, the vitamin is destroyed. Eat it now while it’s still warm. Don’t think about it. Just chew and swallow. If you want to live, you have to learn this.”
Josh didn’t like the fact that it made sense. He took the half-eaten liver, blood dripping onto his fingers.
“What’s it taste like?” he said, hesitating.
“Like shit. Don’t think about it. Get it down your neck.”
Josh tentatively nibbled at it. The taste was rich and not so bad. It was the texture that made him want to gag.
“Do it.”
Josh shoved it into his mouth, bit down once, then tried to swallow. Immediately, he wanted to throw up.
“Don’t even think about it! Swallow it.”
Josh coughed, feeling bile in his throat. Fighting back the urge to hurl, he tipped his head back and swallowed the raw liver. Rick unexpectedly produced an apple from his pocket.
“Chase it down with this,” he said.
Josh waved it off. “That’ll make it worse.”
“Drink some water, then.”
Uncapping a bottle, they both drank.
“How do you feel?” said Rick, watching him keenly.
Josh took a few deep breaths. “I think I’m okay.”
“Of course you’re okay. This is how people used to survive. You’ll get used to it.”
“You’re not going to get Lizzy to eat this.”
“Nah, we can fry it a little. Won’t destroy all the vitamins.”
Josh gaped at him, feeling he’d been tricked into eating it raw. His father just smiled.
*
“Why did you have to kill that man?” asked Josh.
“He killed a child because he thought she had food. Can’t leave a threat like that near us.”
“Couldn’t you have just taken his gun? He was bleeding in the leg. He couldn’t have gotten far.”
“Legs heal. And a dangerous man is a danger, whether he’s armed or not. Wouldn’t take long to find some sort of weapon. He knew we were nearby. Once he gets hungry enough, he’ll take a chance and try and track us down. You’ve got to understand how desperate hunger makes people.”
“Yeah, but did you have to kill him like that?”
Rick paused before answering. “Yes. It had to be quick.” He looked at his son. “I don’t take pleasure in inflicting pain. There are people out there who do, but I’m not one of them. But once I’ve made the decision, it has to be done. It’s the ultimate responsibility, and you’ve got to do it right and quick. Like with the squirrel. There’s not a lot of ethics in this business, but there are some.”
“But it’s murder.”
Again, Rick had to think awhile about his answer. “Under the old rules, yeah. But that only counts when the government has the monopoly of force.” Josh looked confused, so Rick explained. “Monopoly of force is when only the government is allowed to do it. So ask yourself, who’s got the monopoly now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do, really. When there’s no rule of law, there is no monopoly. Think about it. When that guy shot the girl, did he worry about getting arrested?”
“No, but he was a bad person.”
Rick shook his head. “I don’t think he was. Back before all of this, he was probably an average guy. If you met him in a bar, he might even have bought you a drink.”
Josh struggled to process this. “So you could have killed a nice guy?”
“You’ve got to quit this idea of good guys versus bad guys. It doesn’t exist. There’s only threats, and non-threats. I’ve killed a lot of nice guys in a lot of places. And if I hadn’t killed them, they’d have killed me. Knew a guy in Afghanistan, once. His name was Ahmed, and everyone in the unit liked him. Really funny guy, and if you wanted something, he’d get it for you. Unfortunately, his clan fell out with the clan of the warlord we were working with. There was an argument over one of the heroin smuggling routes, and Ahmed’s clan attacked our camp. We had to defend ourselves and I shot Ahmed. I liked the guy, and we spent a lot of time talking about our families, but on that day, he was on the other side.”
“But if he’d have seen you, might he not have fired? You know, like if you’d seen each other in a room or someplace?”
“That only happens in the movies. In combat, you only think, ‘target, 50 yards’ and you fire. Because you’re concentrating on staying alive. I only knew I’d killed Ahmed when I was checking his body afterwards for booby traps.” Rick waved away the example. “It doesn’t matter what the details are. Fact is, it’s all about the threat level, and it’s on you to assess it. You and nobody else. Because if you get it wrong, you’re dead. No human rights lawyer is going to help you out of that one, then.”
Rick put his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “When the time comes, don’t hesitate,” he said. “It’s like eating that piece of liver. Don’t think about it. Just do it.”
*
Josh remained in Lauren’s thoughts all morning, and when he returned, holding three dead squirrels by their tails, she couldn’t help but scrutinize him.
“You okay?” she asked him.
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, but his face wasn’t as jocular as his tone, and a thoughtful seriousness framed his features. Lauren felt a pang as she sensed him holding back on her.
It shouldn’t have been any different from his usual teenage rebellion, and God knows, she was used to him ignoring her, but this time it seemed different.
As if aware that he wasn’t giving her much, Josh made a show of seeking her approval. “Look, Mom,” he said, holding up the squirrels, “I got us food.”
“That’s great,” said Lauren, forcing a smile. A momentary image of Josh
holding up a severed head flitted through her mind, and the smile wavered. Look, Mom, I killed the son of a bitch.
Rick drifted by, a secret smile on his face, like he knew what she was thinking, and Josh fell in step behind him, leaving Lauren behind.
14
“I’m glad you found it so amusing,” said Lauren.
“You’re reading too much into it,” said Rick dryly.
“You think it’s okay that our son could turn into a stone-cold killer?”
Rick turned around. They were following the banks of the Briar Creek through the suburbs. “According to April, you shot a guy in the back as he was running away. I don’t see the difference. And for what it’s worth, you did the right thing. I’m hoping Josh will, too.”
Lauren wanted to say it wasn’t the same thing. But of course, it was.
“You told me to train him,” said Rick.
“I know.”
“And I gave you fair warning of what that might mean.”
“I know.”
“So?”
“Okay, I didn’t think about it as much as I thought I did. It’s a mom thing, all right?”
“It’s an over-reaction thing, that’s what it is. All he did was shoot some squirrels. And we talked.”
Lauren studied her husband. “And how did he take it?”
“I don’t know. He asked questions and I answered. Can’t say what went through his head.”
“I’d prefer it if he talked more about his feelings.”
“I’m not his therapist.”
Lauren sighed. “Me neither, now.” She looked through the trees at an abandoned school, its dark windows lifeless, its playground forlorn. A light drizzle lent a misty aura to the scene. “I’m sorry. I’m being dumb. I just wish we hadn’t had to bring our children into this.”
“We didn’t have a choice.”
“Well, duh.”
“You’ve got to look at it as a positive thing.”
“How so?”
“We’re spending quality time as a family.”
Lauren threw him a sideways glance. “The funniest thing about that is I don’t think you’re joking.”
“To be honest, neither do I,” said Rick. He pondered that for a moment, like it was a relatively new thought. He shrugged it off. “Anyway, we’re hunting for a new home.”
Lauren smiled. “Are you looking to find me something well appointed?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of something with good fields of fire, but I’ll take what we can get.”
“You old romantic, you.”
“I aim to please.”
They made their way south by the creek, Rick anxious to find something close to their most important water source, but the palatial homes and apartment blocks they saw didn’t impress him. They walked for over an hour, plunging deeper into the more affluent subdivisions of the city until the creek meandered through a golf course. The greens were overgrown, but the grounds were still beautifully landscaped, with clumps of oak and maple around the sand bunkers, but what really caught their eye was the impressive clubhouse at the top of a slope, shining like a white beacon through the haze. A neo-colonial building with terraces, it looked almost presidential.
“Wow,” said Lauren. “It looks pretty exclusive. Do you think they’ll let us in dressed like this?”
Rick took in the lay of the land, calculating ranges. “It could work for us,” he said.
“It’s kind of big and … well, obvious. It’s not exactly a discreet place to hole up.”
“No,” said Rick, checking the building through his binoculars. “It’s defendable, though. Good water supply. Plenty of trees. Land to grow crops on.” He lowered his binoculars. “And it’s farther south from the radiation area.”
Lauren peered at it through her scope. “I don’t know how defendable that is with only four adults.”
“Only four now, but there’ll be more.”
Lauren lowered her rifle. “You’re serious about this community thing, aren’t you?”
Rick nodded sagely. “Very. There’s strength in numbers.”
“There’s also more trouble in numbers. What are you planning to do? Advertise?”
“You’ll see. Cover me from here while I go check it out.”
Rick stayed low, hugging the contours of the ground, keeping an eye on the tall first floor windows for the slightest flash of movement. If he spotted anything, he was ready to drop to the deck and spray the area before conducting a retreat. Exposed as he was, it wasn’t a good idea to give the benefit of the doubt to anyone. In the deep shadow of the rooms, a person could remain invisible provided they stayed back from the window and didn’t move. A single rifle aimed at his head could really screw up his day. Weaving erratically, Rick sprinted the last few yards and slammed himself against the wall.
Pausing for a second to listen for any response, he scanned the view from the building. He could see Lauren clearly, even though she lay pressed against the bank of the creek. From his raised position he had an excellent field of fire over the entire golf course. To the east he could see the roofs of houses in between the trees. To the south, the block buildings of retail outlets and more trees. To the north, the charred city blocks of Charlotte’s uptown floated like ghosts in the mist.
Peering in through the windows to satisfy himself that the rooms were indeed empty, he waved Lauren up. Breaking cover, she sprinted up the slope until she was panting beside him. Putting a finger to his lips, Rick pointed around the corner and bade her follow him.
Surprisingly, the building remained secure. The main entrance on the other side was locked, the glass unbroken. In the days before the evacuation, nobody seemed to think the clubhouse worthy of inspection. Around the side, behind a line of garbage containers, Rick found the kitchen entrance, the sodden cigarette stubs showing where the chefs liked to hang out after a shift. Taking a wrecking bar to the door, Rick gained entry to the club.
The smell that hit him was immediate, and he thought at first that there were dead bodies in the club. A quick search, however, revealed the cause – rotting meat in the freezer lockers, and rotting vegetables in the stores.
Staying cautious, Rick prowled through the building, occasionally pointing at any door he wanted Lauren to cover before he entered. He discovered nothing but the splendor of what money and membership could provide: a gilded ballroom with chandeliers and a fireplace; a full-service restaurant and bar; a garage full of electric golf carts; a fully stocked gym.
“I’m liking this place already,” murmured Lauren.
Rick padded upstairs to a cafe and gallery that overlooked the outdoor pool. For good measure, he took the maintenance ladder to the roof, emerging between the satellite dishes and checking the three-sixty view.
“It’s perfect,” he said finally. “If we set up a sniper post right here, we control the area. Board up the bottom floor windows and add sandbags to the gallery, and we’ve got the makings of a redoubt.”
“Don’t forget your minefields,” quipped Lauren.
“I do believe you are mocking me, dear lady.”
Lauren blew him a kiss. “Only because I love you, Sir knight. When do we move in to our castle?”
“As soon as possible, before someone else tries to claim it.”
*
“Nettles?” said Josh.
“Nettles,” reiterated Scott. He was in the kitchen, plucking the feathers of the pigeon Josh had just shot. “Use my gloves. They’ve got Kevlar that’ll stop anything getting through.”
“Won’t they sting if we try to eat them?” asked Lizzy. She and Daniel had been staring with morbid fascination at the pigeon.
“Not if we boil them,” said Scott. “Plenty of nutrients.”
“What do they taste like?” asked April.
“Like spinach. It’ll go well with the meat we’ve got.”
Josh clearly didn’t relish his new job. He was dressed in fresh ACUs, shortened and tightened by Scott’s
handiwork with a needle and thread, and had been pleased with his new military appearance, slithering through the undergrowth as he continued to hunt with his air rifle. “Can’t April go?” he said plaintively. “I can get us another pigeon.”
Scott cut the wings off the bird and pointed the knife toward the garden. “Orders is orders. Now git. And stay where I can see you.”
Josh sloped off.
“He thinks gathering plants is a job for the girls,” observed April.
“Ain’t no such thing,” grunted Scott. “Food is food. That’s all that matters.”
“You know?” said April. “The next time I need a dress adjusted to fit, I’ll give you a call. Where’d you learn to sew like that?”
“The army.”
“Ah. I thought maybe you’d been a tailor once. Or your mama taught you.”
“My mama taught me only one thing: how to drink.”
“Not deliberately, I hope.”
“She never did anything deliberately. Alcohol was her excuse for everything, and I never saw her sober. My pa used to drink too until the night she stuck a knife in his neck. When the cops came, she was on her knees yelling at my dead pa that he should have known better than to get her mad when she was drunk, because the moonshine was the demon that possessed her to do bad things. Never saw her again after that, and me, my sister and my brother got split up and sent to different homes.”
“I’m sorry,” said April.
“No need. Wasn’t your fault.”
Aware that Lizzy and Daniel were nearby, April turned to them. “Why don’t you kids go upstairs and play?”
“I want to hear what happened next,” said Lizzy.
“That’s not a story for now,” said April. “Up you go.”
Robbed of entertainment, the children walked off with the same enthusiasm as Josh.
“Forgot they were there,” said Scott after they left. “I lost my innocence when I was real young. I’d like them to keep theirs a little longer. I should watch my mouth.”
“I think they’ve seen and heard worse by now. And maybe your story can be a lesson. Maybe your mama taught you how not to drink.”
