Those classroom activities began to stir again as he sorted the memories highlighting his last year of normalcy. Life seemed so difficult at the time. Now, he longed for those problems—the minutiae of a child’s life—chores, homework, and play. A weak smile creased his face as he remembered his classmates. Most of them were gone now, including his sister. “I survive for you,” he said aloud.
“Here again?” One of the few teachers left in the town asked.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“Need a refresher on your measurin’?” She chuckled to herself while she sorted through some objects on her desk. “I’m gettin’ low on pencils again. All we got are nubs. You got any in the shop?”
“I doubt we have any extras,” Xavier said, “but supply should still have plenty.”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
“I’ll see you around.”
“When ya goin’ to stop dwellin’ on the past? You’re here every mornin’.”
Xavier forced a smile. “I don’t know.” He took his hand from the frame of the door and continued along the discolored floor.
…
“About time,” a rough voice remarked, as Xavier stepped foot into the maintenance shop. “We’re gonna have a long day ahead if we don't start now. 'C' and 'E' are about down. The belts begun to whine, and they gonna need replacin’.”
“Okay, Grant. Give me a second,” Xavier said, as he surveyed the room.
Many of the workers rushed about, gathering tools, preparing themselves for the day’s work. A few stragglers hung about the water cooler, gossiping and discussing the work they were going to do.
“We're going to need some water too, X,” Alex said.
Alex. What a joke. “Why can’t you do it?”
“Your turn, boy,” Grant interjected.
Alex smirked, taking his glasses from his nose and wiping them gently with his handkerchief. A certain smugness about him as he returned to his conversation. The conversation he interrupted for the sole purpose of getting after Xavier.
“Alright, alright, I hear you. Everyone’s on me this morning, huh? Are any of you at least getting breakfast for us?”
“Breakfast?” Grant asked. “Boy, you must be crazy. Two meals, early lunch and dinner—that's it. Ordered by the S.A., and they sayin’ we're lucky to get that.”
“Since when?”
“Today’s when. Where you been? They been talkin’ about it for weeks. Surprised you haven’t heard it was comin’ down the pipe.”
“And the council approved it?”
“They didn’t have much choice but to do it. It’s all parta that deal now. We’re gonna have to make changes from here on out to fall in line with their expectations, or it could all fall apart.”
That might not be all bad.
Xavier stared blankly at Grant picking through the pile of dirty, grease-covered parts in the corner. He couldn’t help but worry that he was in the presence of his future—the life of a lonely, overworked man. Maintenance was much safer than scavenging or exploring, and Xavier knew that, but he still wanted something better for himself.
He certainly didn't want Grant's life. The wear and tear. The blackened mixture of dirt and oil that remained under his fingernails. All the long wrinkles in his forehead that spanned his entire brow. A constant reeking of gasoline—his cologne of choice. The stress of maintaining a town held together with scraps animated itself as slight tremors in his sixty-year-old hands.
“Why you lookin’ at me like that, boy?”
“Zoning out.”
“We ain’t got time for no zonin’. Don’t let that breakfast stuff get you down. We gotta worry about stuff we can help, so get your ass movin’.” Grant clapped his hands together several times. “These generators ain’t gonna make it much longer. We’ll tinker with these a bit then we’re gonna start on somethin’ else.”
Xavier sorted through the rubber belts that hung on the wall. “These will fit ‘C’ and ‘E’, right?”
“Lemme see.” Grant took the belts from Xavier and examined them. “This one here ain’t gonna help nothin’. Look at these cracks.” He traced them with his fingernail. “Minor, but they’re there. That’d be a whole other day’s work had we put these on. Not to mention had it damaged the mechanics.”
“How’d you see those?” Xavier leaned in and squinted at the belts that lay in Grant’s dirty palms.
“You needin’ glasses, boy? What else can’t you see? We can’t be makin’ mistakes with this stuff. Lemme put in a scavengin’ request for some glasses.”
“My eyes can’t be that ba—”
“Boy, it don’t matter. Can’t risk mistakes. Lemme write this out, and you take it down to supply. See what they got. I’ll get to these belts, so don’t you worry about them.” Grant found a scrap piece of paper and scrawled out the request. The writing bounced along with his tremors—it was barely legible.
“Are they going to know what this is?” Xavier rotated it, puzzled on which way it went.
“Yep. They know my writin’ over there. If not, just tell them what you need, but make sure you get the water before you go.” Grant pointed toward the water cooler sitting between Alex and his friend still chatting with no intention of working yet.
How the hell does he get away with this?
Xavier folded the order and placed it in a pocket of his ill-fitting cargo pants. The weight of his hand drooped them considerably from his bony hips. He adjusted his frayed leather belt, slipping the buckle’s prong through the last hole. The next step would be punching his own notches in the belt, and now with only two meals a day, it was almost a certainty.
Reaching between Alex and his even lazier friend, Xavier grabbed the orange water cooler. He hung it over his shoulder as he made his way from the hallway into the school’s courtyard. As he stepped onto the worn path that cut through to the other side of the school, his empty stomach began to growl.
He eyed the crops that grew just beyond his reach. It was tempting, but he wouldn’t dare take without permission. The Second Alliance Sentries watching over the courtyard with their rifles served as a constant reminder of the repercussions for interfering with the town’s food stock.
Xavier stopped for a moment to admire the impressive garden—organized and maintained. Only the makeshift wall of metal and wood separated the uniformity of the crops from the wildness of nature.
Women and young children sang as they worked among the neat rows of stalks and vegetation. Xavier couldn’t help but sing along to the words that he remembered from when he was younger. He looked on while the kids half-played and half-worked—running, digging; laughing, planting. They seemed so happy. Those days were over for Xavier. At fifteen, he was considered a man among the citizens of River’s Edge.
“Everything looks all right,” Xavier said out loud to himself, as he started toward the farm supervisor. He inspected the water lines that ran along the furrows while he continued in her direction—any excuse to talk to her. She had only recently joined River’s Edge but had already made a strong impression upon the settlement. She was sharp. She had to be. Her position was too important.
He watched her as he moved closer. The morning light accentuated her blonde hair that hovered lightly over her shoulders. Her arms were striped in varying shades of brown from long days in the sun. He remembered her eyes being blue but couldn’t be sure. There were only a handful of times he had been close enough to notice. Xavier knew that she was born three years before him. He had overheard some of the older teens talking about her, dwelling on her soft appearance, discussing how she was legal now. Legal? What does that even mean anymore?
Xavier stalled, briefly peering at her through the spaces between the leaves and stems. She’s so beautiful. He started again. As he neared, she faced him, breaking her conversation with a younger boy. She patted the boy on his bottom, and he ran off giggling toward the livestock pens.
“It’s good to see the water lines ar
e still working,” Xavier said, his eyes lazily assessing the situation, wanting more than anything just to rest upon her.
“You’re not kidding. It was only a slight hiccup yesterday, but I’m afraid it’s only going to keep getting worse.” She lifted one of the water lines slightly from the dirt and let it fall back into place. “Several of the hand pumps are getting old and aren’t pushing enough out. Something needs to be done to their seals. We have their bases wrapped with tarps to catch the water as it leaks, but really, they just need to be replaced.”
Xavier paused for a moment. I don’t know if we even have any more of those. “I’ll talk to Grant, but I think the best we can do is disassemble them and rebuild.”
“If that’s what it takes, that’s fine.” She turned her gaze over to the hand pumps. “I’m just trying to look ahead. What we have still works, but it’s not ideal.” She turned back to Xavier, her face cracking a smile. “If it stays like this, that leaky pump will eventually flood the whole courtyard. We’ll probably all drown.”
“Really?” Xavier smiled. “You’re ridiculous.”
She laughed. “No joking around with you, Mr. Serious.”
Xavier politely laughed with her.
“We really do appreciate the help,” she said. “I’m just teasing with you.”
“No, I know. I don’t mind a good joke now and then… Just let me know when you have one.”
“I see what you did there.” She smirked while rolling her eyes.
“Anytime something comes up just let us know. It’s not a big deal. I’ll make sure I let Grant know about the pumps, but it’ll be up to him what we do with them.”
She nodded.
“Oh, and speaking of Grant, he was upset last time it rained. You guys have to make sure the gutters get diverted back to the interior reservoir tanks.”
“Yeah, I know. I filled out the situation report and gave it to the mayor’s office. It was an oversight on our part and won’t happen again.”
“I know you know, but that’s Grant for you. He’ll bring it up again. I’m just giving you a heads up.”
“Fair enough. You want something before you go?” She gestured toward the baskets of fresh produce.
“Maybe later.” He raised the water cooler slightly from his shoulder. “I have to fill it up before I do anything else.”
He took the cooler over to the tanks of filtered water and set it in the grass just below the spigots. He opened the valve and listened while it filled with the day's ration. The water flowed freely, splashing as it fell until it slowed to drops as Xavier closed the valve. He lugged the cooler back toward the hallway.
“I still have to go by supply after this. Is it okay if I come back through later and grab something?” Xavier asked.
“Yeah. That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll be here.”
“Can I grab something for Grant too?”
“It probably wouldn’t hurt to butter him up a bit.”
“Not at all. That’s why I asked.”
“Figured… It’s Xavier, right?”
“Yea-ah,” Xavier's voice cracked. His demeanor soured in front of her. He tried to walk away but stumbled a bit, spilling some of the water. Xavier's cheeks turned red.
“Do you remember mine?”
A blank expression hung upon Xavier's face as he tried to gather himself to say something. Anything. But he didn't. He just stood there. He set the cooler down and reached out to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you...” Ugh, what is it?
“Lana… You really didn't know?”
“I’m not sure you ever told me.”
“Fair enough.”
She smiled at him as he broke his grip from hers. He turned and slunk away from the awkward end to their conversation. Nice to meet you? Nice to meet you? What’s wrong with you? “Remember her name. Lana. Lana,” he muttered under his breath as he made his way back to the maintenance shop. “Just keep it simple when you go back for the food.”
The promise of breakfast excited him. He picked up his pace, causing the water to smack against the lid of the cooler. He had already spilled once and couldn't afford to lose more. Slow down.
“Hey, Alex! Help me with this!” Xavier called into the shop. Seconds passed. “Come on, Alex! It’ll only take a minute!”
Alex peeked around the corner then ducked his head back in.
“I just saw you! Come on!”
Alex’s head returned, and this time his body followed it out into the hallway. He trudged over to Xavier and grabbed one of the handles. They made their way into the shop and set the cooler down on its shelf. The main room was empty except for the two of them. It was clear that Alex was hiding out. Unbelievable! Everyone else is out working while Alex does nothing. I know I shouldn’t say this, but “Thanks,” Xavier forced it through his teeth.
“I'll do you the favor of boiling the water.”
“A favor? For me? Really?” Xavier tilted his head with disbelief. “I’m pretty sure everyone will be drinking water today.”
“I’m serious.” Alex nodded. “Seriously, I’ll get it, X.”
“Don’t try and act like that, Alex,” Grant said from the back room. “I told him to do it, so you can get to supply. Now hurry on over.”
“I guess I’ll be off to get my glasses now.”
“I heard,” Alex grumbled.
“Can I ask you something?”
“I guess so.”
“You like your glasses?”
“You get used to them. Like most things.”
Chapter Two
Xavier walked the hall while following the lines in between the concrete blocks with his eyes—perfectly level around every bend. A row of blue lockers filled the other side of the corridor. Occasionally, he ran a finger along the grout, sliding it up and down as the opportunity presented itself. He maintained a count of ups and downs that reset at each classroom door that interrupted the game. Just a small form of escape. Something mindless to preoccupy these small journeys through the school.
As he approached the supply office, he could hear the usual crowd of about fifteen people waiting out front for the assorted items needed to start their day. It appeared to be business as usual, but as he made his way to the fringe of the gathering, things were definitely off—it was the tone, the atmosphere that struck Xavier as odd. The sounds of laughter and genial conversation were absent, replaced by shouts and groans of uncertainty. A fog of discontent saturated the air surrounding what seemed more like a small mob than an orderly group at this point. He peeked between their shoulders and heads, trying to locate the source of the anger.
“Hey!” Matt tugged at Xavier’s shirt, pulling him in, so he could speak into his ear. “Just in time for the show.”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“If only two meals a day wasn’t bad enough, they changed the rules for getting supplies too.” Matt pointed to a large chart secured to the wall just outside the supply office door. “Wasn’t there yesterday, and as soon as people saw it, they just lost it.”
“What does it say?”
“I haven’t had a chan—”
“This is bullshit!” Their attention turned to Sam, the blonde man in his forties that elevated his voice above the protesting of the crowd. He forced his way through the group and toward the entrance of the supply office. “These are our supplies! This was our blood and sweat that got it, and they can’t expect us to work without it!”
The group roared with approval.
“If we don't do the work, then what? More rules from this mayor brought in by the Second Alliance?” Sam continued.
The group’s collective voice elevated once again.
“Quiet! Quiet!” A young disbursement officer squeezed past Sam, so she could address the group. “As I tried to explain,” her shrill voice struggled to find its place of authority, “JC1s have the priority, then JC2s followed by 3s. The may—our mayor,” she corrected herself, “has instituted Job Classification Numbers for
all occupations in the town. Check the chart and respond accordingly. Lines form within the offi—”
“Not my mayor!” Sam leaned into the officer’s face. “No one elected him!”
“Let it go, Sam! We can’t go back to how things were,” another man called out from the group. His attention clearly focused on something behind the two that were arguing.
“No! Never! We're all puppets now! Two meals a day? What's nex—”
Whack! Sam’s head split and everything went silent. Xavier saw the butt of a rifle retreat back through the doorway. The entrance to the supply office was darkened by a large silhouette. He had only heard tales of Second Alliance Soldiers—Guards and Sentries had become commonplace, but a Soldier… He had never stood in their presence. It’s true. They do exist. A man of legendary size fitted with the black uniform. The sun and moon split by a sword sewn into the fabric—rumored to be the mark most people saw only before death. The Soldier didn't say anything. He didn't need to. His point was made.
Xavier focused his attention back to Sam and the blood he now lay in. Damn, that’s a lot. Don’t stare at it. He looked to the others standing around the body. Horror stamped across the faces of everyone who witnessed it. Their eyes darted back and forth among themselves, and then all at once, dropped to the floor as the Soldier stepped into the hallway. The commotion was over quicker than it had come.
The Soldier lifted Sam by the ankles and dragged him past the disbursement officer. His limp body dangled from the Soldier’s grip. I should help. Xavier’s desire to do so urged his hands to reach out, but they wouldn’t budge. I better not. I— A trail of crimson followed them toward the infirmary.
“Now do we have an understanding?” the disbursement officer said with a fresh confidence to her voice.
Almawt Virus Series (Book 2): Days Since...Xavier [Day 853] Page 2
