by K. M. Fawkes
As they set off, Brad was ready to resign himself to long miles of silence. His father had never been very talkative, unless he was delivering a lecture on a favored subject. At least, he hadn’t been talkative with his son. To his surprise however, Lee began to speak almost as soon as they were out of earshot of the cabin.
“I didn’t get around to telling you this last night,” he said. “But I was in Toronto when it happened. The announcement that it was an official epidemic, I mean.”
“Toronto?” Brad repeated blankly. That was pretty much the last place he would have expected his father to be. “Why? What were you doing in Canada?”
“We’d decided to have a meeting,” Lee said, veering to take them off of the road and into the woods.
Brad knew that “we” was the group of survivalists that Lee had known for nearly thirty years. He followed along behind his father, imagining how excited and vindicated the survivalists would have been as they talked about humanity's impending doom. They would have been frightened, too—at least, he assumed that they would be—but he couldn’t imagine that fear had been their predominant emotion. They’d been waiting for something like this for decades, after all. He was willing to bet that a good many of Lee’s group had met the situation with more excitement than anything else.
“We’d been keeping an eye on the bots for a while,” Lee said, unaware that he was confirming his son’s inner monologue. “I said that they were a dipshit idea from the beginning. People aren’t meant to live forever, no matter how terrified they are to die.”
Even though he still felt like it was in poor taste to be so happy about an end-of-the-world scenario, Brad couldn’t help but smile at his father’s self-satisfied expression. It was so rare that Lee had been proven right in any of his theories. It was unfortunate that it had to be one about the end of the world, but Brad wasn’t going to take the moment away from him.
“Most of the others felt the same way,” Lee went on. “That it was dumb. That it would lead to trouble.” His father shook his head. “Nobody expected anything quite like this, though.”
Brad nodded in agreement. In a way, he had felt the same way. The disease-eradicating properties of the nanomachines had intrigued him from a scientific standpoint, but he had never really seriously considered using them or even recommending them in the event that they became available to animals as well as humans. He had been waiting to find out that the effects were short-lived more than anything else. It didn’t have anything to do with his strained relationship with his father that Brad sorely wished that he had been proven right in the end rather than Lee.
“How were things in Canada?” Brad asked. “We hadn’t exported the bots, right? The patent was still—”
Lee snorted. “No, we didn’t export them officially, but that didn’t stop the idiots who wanted them from getting them. They just came over the border, got their bots injected and headed right back home carrying a ticking time bomb in their blood. I don’t know for sure, but I’m willing to bet that Canada is just as bad off as we are here. Mexico too, if I had to guess. As for the EMP, God knows what kind of damage that inflicted on the rest of the world—they sure as hell aren’t sending the cavalry in to help us out of this mess.”
Brad sighed. He hadn’t thought about that, but it made sense that Lee had. Again, it was no more than what he’d expected, but it still sucked to have another little piece of hope torn away.
“Anyway, once I got up there and we really started following the news, we could tell what a shitshow it was going to turn out to be. We tried to make a plan, but there wasn’t anything concrete that we could really do.”
Lee stepped over a fallen log, going up to his knees in snow that had drifted onto the side of it. He gripped a tree branch and hauled himself forward. Brad followed in his father’s wake.
“How many of you were there?” he asked. “In Canada?”
“The usual twelve,” Lee said. “Just like the apostles,” he added, almost to himself.
Brad frowned, but he didn’t address the comment. It was probably a simple off-hand observation, though it didn’t sound like one that Lee would typically make. Instead, he simply let his father continue.
“I stayed there for a while,” Lee said. “But I finally had to pack up and head back for the cabin when the Surgeon General came on, warning people that it was a real epidemic. I knew that I wouldn’t have long to get myself set up again to wait this thing out. I got about halfway to the border when I heard that they were shutting it down.” He shook his head. “Talk about closing the barn door after the cows are out. Dumb bastards. Gave me a hell of a time getting back to America.”
“But…why leave the group?” Brad asked in confusion. “Wouldn’t it have been better to stay in Canada?”
Lee shook his head. “Wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference,” he said. “The virus was gonna get them too, sooner or later.” He looked out into the woods and then down at his compass before he went on. “Besides, I had the cabin. I knew every last inch of the place. I knew what it was built to stand up to. I knew it was the best place for me and I figured that if I was gonna die, I’d rather do that at home.”
Brad heard a rustling and looked over to see a bright red cardinal flutter through the snow-covered tree branches. It rested above their heads, watching them warily as they walked toward the tree it had settled on. Brad wondered how long it would take the local wildlife to become more curious than afraid when they saw a human.
“Of course, by the time I got to the border, they’d enacted martial law here,” Lee said matter-of-factly. “That really threw a wrench in my whole plan. I’d figured that they were gonna do it, but not quite that soon. The Canadian officials confiscated my car after the second time they caught me trying to cross. There were so many roadblocks that I couldn’t get to the roads that I needed. I finally told them that I was American and they handed me over to the soldiers at the border. I ended up in some stinking safe house in Bangor—”
“Wait just a second! You were in a safe house in Bangor, too?” Brad demanded in shock.
Lee shook his head and spoke impatiently. “I said that, didn’t I?”
It was in that moment that Brad realized something he should have become aware of hours before, and a hope that he’d been holding onto since that final conversation with Jamie finally shattered.
Lee hadn’t been out looking for him. He hadn’t gone to Bangor to find his only son like Brad had hoped. He’d gone because he’d been forced to, just to lie in wait until he could get back to his damn cabin.
All of the goodwill Brad had built up as they’d walked and talked throughout the day began to fade away. Yes, Lee had been right and Brad knew that he should give him credit. But it was hard.
Lee’s paranoia might have been justified, but it was still the source of a lot of bad memories. Things hadn’t changed either, despite his father’s guilty declaration of the night before. Lee’s first concern was still Lee.
Brad fell silent and eventually so did his father. They trudged on through the woods, the only sound their boots crunching through the icy top layer of the snow.
“Let’s go ahead and set up camp here for the night,” Lee said, breaking the silence several hours later.
The sun had begun to sink in the western sky as they descended into a little valley. It was surrounded by a thick copse of trees so there wasn’t much snow on the ground down there. As they walked to the bottom, Brad realized that the wind that had kicked up again wasn’t buffeting him quite so hard now. This would be the best place to camp, even if they could reasonably have walked on for several more hours.
“There’s no point in stumbling around,” Lee said, as if reading Brad’s thoughts. “Or in putting a spotlight on ourselves by using one of the lights.”
Brad nodded, catching his breath. They’d put in a punishing pace since they’d stopped talking. He’d had a stitch in his side for a few miles now and his back had begun to twinge again. He
wasn’t sure how much good a night on the ground was going to do it, but anything would be better than walking along mile after mile.
Lee shucked off his pack and began to pull things out of it. Brad was amazed at how much his father had managed to bring along with him. The tent that he pulled out of the bag was small, but it was made of thick, sturdy canvas.
“Where did you find this thing?” Brad asked as he helped his father slide the poles into the channels created for them in the thick fabric. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Friend of mine down in South Carolina made them,” Lee said. “I picked one up the last time I went down south. It’s got six coats of weatherproofing sprayed over the canvas. That really helps keep out the wind, too.”
Brad could feel the waxy substance as they pushed the tent upright. Why the hell hadn’t he ever thought of doing that? Even a layer would have been helpful, especially on the lightweight tents he’d been carrying.
They staked the tent down tightly. Even if they were out of the wind here, it was better safe than sorry. Lee flicked his lighter and Brad was surprised to see the red embers of a cigarette in his father’s mouth.
“Where did you get that?” Brad asked.
Lee laughed. “There’s not a lot of competition for them these days,” he said as he dusted the snow off of a fallen log and sat down. He tilted his head back and exhaled toward the deep gray sky. “I’d give a lot to see the stars again.”
“Are you worried that we’re off course?” Brad asked, pushing his hands back down into the pockets of his jacket and bouncing slightly on his toes. Setting up the tent had gotten him warm, but now that he was standing still again he was starting to cool down once more. He kept eyeing the sleeping bags that his father had pulled out of the pack. They’d been stuffed down in vacuum-sealed bags so that they were less than a third of their real bulk.
That was another idea that he wished he had thought of. Of course, it was a lot easier to look smart in an apocalypse if you’d been willing to look like an idiot preparing for it. Lee definitely had been. So far, every piece of his father’s gear had been state of the art.
“No,” Lee said. “I know exactly where we are.” He paused and Brad heard the end of the cigarette crackle as his father inhaled deeply. “It would just be nice to know if anything had changed up there.”
Brad blinked in confusion. “What do you mean? In the sky? Why would it?”
“Behold, the day of the Lord cometh, cruel both with wrath and fierce anger, to lay the land desolate: and he shall destroy the sinners thereof out of it. For the stars of heaven and the constellations thereof shall not give their light: the sun shall be darkened in his going forth, and the moon shall not cause her light to shine,” Lee said, sounding as if he was quoting something that Brad should know.
He didn’t. Or, to be more accurate, he didn’t know which part of the Bible his father was referencing. He had even less clue why his father was referencing the Bible. This wasn’t a world-ending of Biblical proportions. People had done this to themselves.
When Brad only remained silent, Lee sighed and said, “Isaiah 13:9-10.”
“Oh,” Brad said. “Okay.”
The tip of the cigarette had burned low. His father’s face was illuminated in red as he took his last drag on it. “Not impressed, huh?”
“I didn’t know that you had any verses memorized,” Brad said for lack of anything else.
“I didn’t before.” Lee stood up and tossed the cigarette down. “But I picked up a Bible at that safe house. Didn’t have anything else to read. There are some interesting bits and pieces in it.”
Brad was happy that his father didn’t seem to want a response to that as he pulled back the tent flap and ducked inside. They risked a light while they unpacked the sleeping bags. Brad found a few emergency blankets stuffed down inside each bag.
“One is to put on the ground,” Lee said. “Then lay the bag over it. The others are for the walls and ceiling.”
Brad helped his father secure the reflective blankets to the interior of the tent. He could already feel a distinctive difference in the chill of the air. Their body heat as they moved would help a lot now that they were insulated.
“Get changed,” Lee said. “Those wet clothes won’t do your sleeping bag any good.”
Brad pulled a change of clothes from his pack and put them on. Lee tossed him a pair of wool socks. Brad tugged them on gratefully as well. He slid down into the bag, but he remained sitting up. His stomach was growling so he took several long sips of water. It didn’t help him warm up, but it quieted his stomach for a few moments.
Lee dug down into his pack and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. He walked over and sat down beside Brad, twisting the lid off and dipping his fingers down into the thick brown substance. Brad did the same, scooping up a large mouthful and swallowing it as fast as he could without choking. It was so nice to have something that wasn’t cold, canned pasta.
They ate steadily and soon Brad realized that he could feel his legs again. He had finally gathered enough warmth for his body to prioritize something other than his core.
He wriggled his toes contentedly, remembering that there had actually been a time when he was a child that he’d hated wool. He vowed to find as much of it as he could once he’d gotten Anna and the kids back safely. Hell, he would find a sheep and spin some himself if he had to.
“What are you thinking about?” Lee asked, his voice mildly amused.
“Wool,” Brad admitted. “I used to hate the way that it felt, but these socks are the best part of what I’m wearing right now.”
“What’s best isn’t always what feels the nicest,” Lee said. “And that goes for just about every damn thing in this life.”
His father stood up and dropped the jar of peanut butter back into his pack. Then he changed his own clothes and got into his sleeping bag. Darkness descended when he turned out the light. Brad didn’t believe that the stars had changed because of the wrath of God, but he would have liked to see some type of natural light outside. It was so still in the little dell.
Exhaustion from the long day’s walk kept him from lying awake that night. The light had barely gone out when his eyes had closed. He was drifting toward a peaceful slumber when Lee spoke into the darkness.
“I think it’s time for you to tell me what really happened to Jamie.”
“I did tell you,” Brad said, going very still. What was his father getting at? Did he really still think that Brad had had something to do with the boy’s death? “The group that ran the retirement home—”
“Yeah, but you didn’t say how they did it,” Lee cut in. “I figure that means that it was a pretty ugly way to go.”
“It was,” Brad confirmed, suddenly unable to blink away the picture of the boy’s terror. It wasn’t what he wanted to see while he lay in a dark tent with at least ten hours of darkness in front of him. “Are you sure that you want to hear about it? I know that the two of you were close and—”
“Yes,” Lee said flatly. “I want to hear about it.”
Brad wasn’t sure that he wanted to say the words, but they spilled out in a torrent of memory.
“Jamie was a good shot,” he said. “I guess you know that.”
“Yeah,” Lee said. “His aim was amazing. So was his concentration. Once he locked onto something, he didn’t lose focus for a single second.”
Brad wasn’t sure if his father had meant to make a minor dig at him or not, so he didn’t address it. How many times in the field had Lee shouted at him for not paying attention? He pushed the thoughts away and went on with his story.
“Major Walker wanted to make him his contract killer to keep his men in line. Jamie didn’t want to kill innocent people, so he ran away. He hid in what he thought was an empty part of the housing unit. It was my house by that point, so he got discovered.”
“Did you tell the Major he was there?” Lee asked accusingly.
“No,” Br
ad replied firmly. “I already didn’t trust a lot of the shit that was going on there. I was more than willing to listen to a skinny kid tell his story about the place. I did my best to protect him; I let him stay in my unit and found him a place to hide.”
“If you did all of that, how did he die?”
Brad sighed. “I was only there because I was hoping to find Anna and the kids,” he said. “I’d struck a deal with the Major that he would let me go out looking. One day he did. When I came back, I realized that they’d found Jamie. They’d only been trying to get me out of the way.”
His throat tightened as he remembered the surge of guilt and fear. He had known that he wouldn’t be able to get Jamie out alive. He had also known that he had to try. That he couldn’t accept Major Walkers way of life. He couldn’t give in and do that man’s dirty work for the rest of his life. He knew that he would rather die. And he almost had.
After he had at last explained what had happened to Jamie and what had happened to Walker afterward, there was silence between them. If he hadn’t heard Lee’s quick breaths beside him in the small tent, he would have thought that his father had gone to sleep.
“I did the best I could,” Brad spoke into the darkness. He hadn’t realized until now just how desperate he was to be absolved of Jamie’s death. “I really couldn’t have done anything else, I—”
“No, you couldn’t,” Lee said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Brad didn’t even have a second to feel relieved before his father went on.
“This,” Lee said, his voice low and deliberate now. “This is exactly the kind of thing that happens when people worship the wrong thing.”
“What?” Brad asked, too surprised to hold back the question.
“They worshipped all of these false idols,” Lee went on. “All of them did.”
“I don’t…I don’t understand,” Brad said. “Who worshipped false idols? Walker?”
“No, not Walker,” Lee snapped. “Walker was a symptom, not the disease. The masses,” he snarled the word. “They did this to us. They wanted youth and beauty and freedom from sickness. And for what? So they could doom the rest of us with their vanity? Everything ages, everything dies. And we will die before our time because of them. Good men like me. Like Jamie.” There was a long pause and then he added, “Like you.”
