processed tinned food my body craved some fresh produce. Oh What I’d do for a bowl of Tagliatelle cooked al dente in basil and coriander infused oil with a fair shaving of parmesan cheese. Or an A-grade matured steak, medium rare with a healthy serving of sweet potato fries. Alas we had to make do with what dwindling supplies we had left and day after day, there was less pilchards on mash and more boring old plain baked beans.
For now I was accepting our basic, tasting dishes. I was even okay with our repetitive lifestyle, for one reason. I was so grateful we had not seen another reaper since the incident at the grocer. By the way, that’s the name we had come to give those hellish creatures, those damn death dealers .The name was quite literal, all they did was bring death, hence reaper, in fact they where the embodiment of death, shells of what where once humans, now slaves to the constant hunger, killing without the understanding of remorse. The only thing left from their humanity was their outer appearance. They still looked like humans, well relatively at least; the gas had disfigured them, but not to the point of them being unrecognisable. I remember the pin stripe man’s face; there was no denying he was once human.
Smith spent hours explaining all the encounters with the different types of reapers he had come across over the years; he told me he never fully understood their level of intelligence. He believed they underestimated just how smart these creatures were; maybe they weren’t as primitive as he once thought. He also believed that they had the ability to breed and were rearing their young. He had seen Reapers sheltering small bald looking creatures, still covered in a placenta like fluid, these things stood up right just like human infants, but could never be a human baby, It was near to impossible for a human baby to walk at such an early stage. This is what brought him to the conclusion that the Reapers were reproducing.
If they had the intellect to do this, who knows what more they were capable of? The Reapers were a wakeup call in the twisted reality of the new world. There were no rules and regulations up there any more, no civil services, no police patrolling the streets and no hospital to look after our broken bones. Most of all there was no law, no sense of wrong or right. It was simply . . . survive at all costs.
Some nights I’d sit in bed trying to dissect the troubled psyche of the reapers, what went through their thoughts, did they even still have thoughts? What drove their unfailing hunger? Surely any creature had a consumption limit? But most of all I wondered what the root was to their constant aggression? Why was this new species so violent, so bent on aggression? The interaction with the reaper had opened my eyes to what really lurked top side. I was not the type of person who looked for unnecessary adventure. Even though at times the frustration would boil up inside me until it felt as if it would explode. I managed to control it; I’d rather be extremely bored down here than up top and extremely dead! The tedious safe lifestyle was okay for now I guess.
Life had become a routine, mornings we’d all walk down the sewer passageways, following the route which took us to a city pipe line just a few miles away from the bunker. I loved the walk, only because it gave us the time to bond as a unit outside the bunker. Plus with the whole group around and the lanterns cutting through the darkness, the passageways were not as daunting as before.
We would walk until we reached a runoff pipe which drained rain water from the streets above which filled five to six 50gallon containers with relatively fresh rain water. We’d then bath ourselves as best we can then allow Sky and Sharif’s daughters the privacy to bath alone. My skin had become so dry from lack of soap and lotion, and the decaying of my teeth left me in constant agony .Supplies were reducing rapidly in the small grocery shop, there were maybe two or three bars of soap left and a single tube of toothpaste which wouldn’t last more than a week
But there were no other options right now; we had to make do with what small rations we had. Id lie in bed touching the rim of my infected tooth, the irritation of it drove me insane. Until one night I had had enough. I demanded Smith get it out of my mouth immediately. The old man was reluctant, but in the end got a rusty set of pliers from his tool box, boiled them in a pot of water then proceeded to pull the tooth. I screamed in agony as the make shift dentist wiggled and pulled until eventually it tore through my gum and was out. A coat of dark red blood poured from my mouth as I sat in disillusion of what had just happened, until however the pain waved down on me and I screamed louder than Zara. I couldn’t believe I had just ordered him to rip my tooth out with a set of pliers for heaven sake!
Smith quickly stuffed the last cotton swabs in the gap and drenched it with salt. Even though my little condition was by far the most drastic, I wasn’t the only one having trouble with the limited supplies. Sharif’s poor girls’ delicate scalps were so dry by now; their hair was ridden with dandruff. They cried constantly as they scratched at their heads and clouds of white flakes covered the room. Sky tried, rubbing Shahkierah and Zara’s scalps down with teaspoons of cooking oil, but the lack of conditioner and shampoo was taking its toll on the little ones. Smith’s problem did not affect him as much as it did us. The lack of soap was causing the old man’s pits and nether regions to have strong odours. The smell was horrendous and permeated the walls! Sky did not complain about much but her pet peeve was not shaving her legs and under arms. Unfortunately, all the razors in the little shop where long disposed of and she would cover her legs in long tight jeans constantly, no matter how hot and uncomfortable it got in the bunker. Sharif on the other hand seemed to be doing perfectly okay; it was strange, other than his long beard and greasy hair, he looked as if he had just woken up from a spa treatment. I was amazed to see each day how he managed to keep himself so well groomed, even in these conditions. But just like I had mentioned before, he was the most self sufficient man I had ever met, and there was no situation or problem he could not find a solution for, including bad living conditions. Our living situations were far from ideal at the moment, but at least we were exactly that . . . living.
But no matter how tough things got, we knew we all had responsibilities if we wanted to survive. Chores became a norm, and every day we rotated our tasks. Each day comprised of a different set of tasks set for a different person and this did not exclude the girls. No, Sharif made sure the two of them pulled their weight.
I entered the bunker at a leisurely pace; I had just finished my workout and knew what was waiting for me inside. I dreaded the horror of the large pile of clothing in the corner. It was my turn to do the laundry, I slowly procrastinated as I watched the others go about doing their chores .Sharif unpacked the remaining goods in perfect symmetry, with not one can out of line, he then preceded taking stock of our food. Smith mopped up the water that constantly seeped through the ceiling of the bunker; if we missed one day the water would build up and dampen our surroundings. The girls made our beds, honestly speaking it was more Shahkierah that did the beds as Zara pranced around jumping and playing at her father’s turned back. Sky began the day’s breakfast, I watched as she took out the last remaining can of spam, great I hated the gelatinous meat, but it was better than nothing.
Eventually I had collected all the washing and made my way to the runoff pipe. We had to do our washing with a medium sized bucket and a bar of washing soap, with no hot water and proper detergent id have to repeat and rinse over and over to make sure the clothing came out relatively clean. Smith always complained when I did his washing, he’d say I just rinsed his clothing and complain they were still dirty, Id simply ignore his ramblings and continue with whatever I was doing, I knew his objective, he just wanted me to redo his clothing in an aimless attempt to get that strong odour out of his clothes. He knew as well as I did, that smell wasn’t going anywhere!
After finishing the loads of washing I returned back to the bunker to find everyone done with their chores and seated awaiting my arrival so breakfast could resume. We were having one of my most despised dishes. We had this dish a few times before and each time it completely horrified me, none the-less times wer
e tough now, and survival mode was in gear.
I looked at the plate of food placed in front of me in complete disgust. To the naked eye it looked like a normal fried spam dish, but I knew exactly what was inside. RAT! I hated the idea of eating the filthy little critters, but when protein was down we needed to get it in some form and fortunately rats were in abundance down here. Sharif had to lie to the girls each time, saying it was canned chicken they were eating or he knew they’d refuse, and down here you needed every source of energy you could get your hands on.
While we sat eating our breakfast I looked around the room at the six people I had created a new life with. We had bonded and become somewhat of a family. After my experience with the reaper on the surface I had come to realise just how far they were willing to go for one another. The way they worked together was quite raw, but still very effective keeping in mind the only one of them with previous combat experience was Smith. These people, who were once complete strangers, became a family due to circumstances and would now die for each other at the drop of a
Northern Exposure: Episode Three Page 4
