by Amy Cross
"Do you want to know a secret?" Susannah asks as we walk among the tents. "Some of the men are leaving tonight. They're going to abandon the rest of us to our deaths".
"No way," I say. "They wouldn't do that".
We stop by a tent at the edge of the community, where one of the men - a middle-aged guy who is known only as Dryer among the group - is working on sharpening a knife.
"Hey Dryer," says Susannah, "tell the girl where you're going tonight". She pauses, and then she laughs as Dryer refuses to answer. Susannah turns to me. "He's ashamed. He knows that by leaving, he and the others are consigning the weaker members of the group to certain death. He doesn't want to acknowledge what's going to happen. He just wants to head away with the stronger members of the group".
"Are you going with them?" I ask, shocked at the idea that our little community is going to splinter after just a few weeks.
Dryer grunts with laughter, glancing up at us for a moment before looking back down at his knife.
"They wouldn't take me," Susannah says, "even if I asked. They don't want to be worrying about weak and sick people like me. The whole point of their journey is to get rid of the sick and to strike out for new land". She smiles. "They'd take you, though".
"I'm not strong," I say.
"You're strong enough," she says. She pats me on the shoulder. "Talk to Dryer, and don't think you're doing me a favour by staying behind. You're young. I want you to live". She turns and walks away, leaving me next to Dryer. I've never really spoken to Dryer very much. He's an organiser, but we have nothing in common and we've probably only exchanged a few words since I got here.
"You want to come with us?" he asks, not looking up from his knife.
"Only if Susannah can come," I say.
He laughs. "Fuck that," he replies.
"You can't leave people to die," I insist.
He continues to sharpen the knife for a moment. "I'm heading to the coast," he says finally. "Me and a couple of others". He looks up at me. "You're welcome to come, provided you don't mind working. There's nothing here for you".
"I can't leave Susannah," I say.
"Then you'll die here with her," he replies.
"We'll be okay," I say.
He shrugs. "Suit yourself. You're welcome to come, but I ain't gonna beg you, you understand? It's a matter of life and death. There's diseases around here. Sicknesses. Mark my words. You act like a hero, you stick around for Susannah or any of those other sick bastards, you'll be dead in a couple of weeks".
"I can't leave her," I say, turning and heading back to Susannah's tent. I can't believe the harshness that people like Dryer are showing, and he's not the only one. It's as if people are starting to forget about others and are just focusing on themselves. I wander back to Susannah's tent, feeling disconsolate. At the same time, I know that Dryer is right. Sticking around here means certain death. "Hey," I say as I go into the tent, "I think -"
I stop dead in my tracks.
Susannah is on the floor, covered in blood that seems to be pouring from her crotch. She looks up at me and smiles, and then she drops a large knife from her hand.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I shout, rushing over and kneeling in the pool of blood.
She looks up at me. "If you ever need to kill yourself," she says, her voice sounding weak, "cut here". She indicates the gash near her groin. "Much faster, much less painful than the wrists. You'll bleed out in just a couple of minutes".
I grab a sheet and try to stop her blood loss, but it's clearly too late. "Please," I say, "don't do this".
"Too late," she says. "I know you wouldn't have left if you thought I was still here, and I couldn't bare to be the reason you stick around and let yourself die. I've taken the moral way out, so that you don't have to". She coughs. "Good luck, Emma. Go with Dryer tonight".
"No!" I say. "I'm going to save you!" I get up, to rush away and find help, but Susannah grabs my arm and pulls me back. "No," she says. "Stay with me while I die. If you go for help, I'll be dead when you get back".
"I have to find someone," I say, trying to get free.
"No!" she says. "Think about me. Don't think about your own need to pretend you're doing something to help. Think about me, and the fact that I don't want to die alone".
"I can still save you," I say, but as she lets go of my arm, I realise there's no point any more.
She shakes her head. "There's no time. I don't want to be saved. But before I die, I want to tell you something".
I look down at the blood that pours onto the floor.
"It's coming," Susannah whispers, growing weaker by the second.
"What?" I ask.
She opens her mouth to speak, but she seems to be losing consciousness.
"What?" I ask again.
She closes her eyes. "The centre of this country is filled with nuclear power stations. With no electricity, they'll all be melting down by now. You have to get away from all the nuclear... You have to isolate yourselves". She passes out and I sit with her for a couple more minutes until I'm sure she's dead. I can't believe she killed herself in order to make sure that I'd leave with the others. The truth is, I would have stayed here for her, and I would almost certainly have died. But now I have a choice: stay with the weak, or go with the strong. While that might sound like an easy choice, the truth is that I know the people who stay behind will die slow, lingering deaths. Even if I stay, I can't prevent those deaths, only delay them. But if I leave, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to forgive myself.
Chapter Two
"Survival of the fittest," says a man sitting on the desert floor, scraping shapes into the sand with a long stick. "The strong move on and the weak stay behind and die. It's the way the world works. Anything else is just pity, a human invention". He finishes the latest shape, which looks like the crude outline of a bird. He looks up at me. "You know what I'm drawing?" he asks. "A vulture. When we did, there'll be vultures all over our bodies, pecking out our eyes and picking over our meat. At least someone'll benefit from our deaths". He laughs before turning to me. "You're strong. Why the hell didn't you go with the others?"
I sigh. To be honest, I feel like I made a terrible mistake. Dryer and the others left about six hours ago, and I decided to stay. Despite what Susannah said, despite everything, I couldn't abandon these people. I'm pretty sure this was the first selfless act of my life, even if I possibly made it for the wrong reasons. After all, why am I here, trying to help these people who are all going to die in the next couple of days? And what will I do once I'm the only one left? I guess I'll try to follow Dryer and the others, but I doubt I'll make it. I've probably just guaranteed my own death.
I should have gone with Dryer.
"Most of us will be dead by morning," the man continues. "The rest, maybe a day more. And then you're gonna be all alone, little girl. What are you gonna do then?"
I turn to him. "I'm not a little girl," I say, though it feels kind of pathetic to be so annoyed at the description.
"What's your name?" he asks.
"Emma," I say. "What's yours?"
"Bob," he replies. "Or David. Or Michael. Or anything else you like. What does it matter now? I'll be dead soon. A name's just another thing that you can't take with you when you go". He smiles. "If it helps, you can call me Joseph".
"That's your name?" I ask.
He laughs. "It's a name," he says. "It's definitely a name".
I spend the rest of the evening trying to make the others as comfortable as possible, but the next morning I find that eleven are dead. I was expecting a few of them to pass during the night, but not eleven. Now there are only five left, plus me, and the others are all weakening fast, even Joseph. As I look out across the desert plain, I realise that within twenty-four hours I'm going to be completely alone, surrounded by dead bodies. I look at my hands. They're rough now, and dirty, and I'm getting thin. Soon I'll be weak, and then I'll be dying, and then I'll be dead.
I wonder how far Dryer and
the others have got? I can't helping but imagine them walking through more fertile land by now. Maybe they've found a functioning town? Maybe they've found a source of fresh water? Hell, maybe they're in fucking paradise by now, and I'm left here in this dust bowl.
I turn and look at the dead bodies. I should have left. I thought I could make a difference by staying, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything. All I could do was sit around and try to comfort them as they died, but most of them were so far gone, I don't think they even noticed. I can't even dig graves for them. There are too many bodies. I'll just leave them out in the sun. Looking up, I see vultures circling. At least something will benefit from this disaster.
A few hours later, they're all dead. Joseph is the last to go, letting out his long, final breath just before the sun goes down. It's a creepy feeling, being out there surrounded by a circle of dead bodies. Although I want to wait until morning to start walking away, I figure I can't sit here with the dead, plus it might be better to walk at night, when it's a little cooler, and then to rest in the shade during the day. I mean, I'm pretty much doomed right now, but at least I can try to survive, right? So I set off, and fortunately the moon is clear tonight so I can see a little bit ahead of myself. I glance back a couple of times at the dead bodies, and I can see them as dark shapes on the desert scrubland floor.
Hours later, it's still dark and I'm still walking and I've finally reached the foothills of the mountains. I guess Dryer and his group came this way, but I have no real way of knowing for sure, and no way of tracking them. All I can really do is follow my instincts and hope for the best, although I can't shake the feeling that this is never going to work. But what are my other options? Should I just sit down and wait to die? Eventually I find an overgrown ridge just as the sun starts to come up. Exhausted, I crawl into the shade and manage to get some sleep while the midday sun shines down and the heat throbs through the air. It'd be crazy to try to walk during the day, I'd fry and dehydrate. So I wait until it starts getting dark before I crawl back out into the open, and by this point I'm starving so I eat a couple of the apples I brought with me. They fill me up, but I need more than apples, I need -
I suddenly see that there are people coming towards me.
It's getting dark so I can't immediately make them out, and they're still about half a mile away, but there are a dozen or so people and they're definitely heading my way. My first thought is that it's Dryer and the others, but they seem to be coming up behind me, and there's no way I could have overtaken them. Plus, I'm pretty sure there weren't so many people with Dryer. Nevertheless, I start walking towards them.
"Hey!" I shout as I get closer. It's a darker night than before, with the moon hidden behind thick clouds, so I can't really make them out properly. "It's me!"
There's no reply. They just keep walking towards me.
"It's Emma!" I shout. I'm now just fifteen or twenty metres behind them. "Dryer, is that you?"
I slow down and eventually stop with a few metres still between us. There's something unnerving about the way these people are walking. They're just stumbling towards me, and they don't seem to be responding to my voice.
"It's me," I say again, but I'm starting to get a little nervous. "Hey, guys," I say.
At that moment, the moon slips out from behind a cloud and I can finally see the people. Shocked, I immediately recognise them as the people I left behind at the camp, the people I thought were dead. I turn to see that Joseph is among them, but he looks so ill and weak, and... well, to be honest, he looks pretty dead.
"Joseph," I say, my voice faltering a little. "I thought... I thought..."
As I stare at him, I realise his left eye is missing. In fact, they all seem to have various injuries on their bodies, as if something has been tearing at them. I guess the vultures got their meal, or part of it at least. But that doesn't explain how Joseph and the others seem to be up and walking about.
"Guys..." I say, stepping back as they continue to stumble towards me. "I'm sorry I left you, I really thought you were..." I pause, swallowing hard. "I thought you were dead," I say, and - looking at them now - I'm not sure I was wrong. They were dead, I swear. I checked. And they look more than dead, they look like they're falling apart.
"Say something," I say, looking at Joseph, stepping backwards to make sure I keep a little distance from them. "Say something so I know you can understand me". But none of them say anything. They just keep staring at me and walking towards me. Damn it, were they following me all night?
Suddenly I notice one of the people at the back of the group. It's Susannah! The wounds from her suicide are still open, but there's no more blood to come out. I know for a fact that she was definitely dead. I even buried her!
"I have to go," I say, turning and running. The foothills are rough and covered in vegetation, so I can't run too fast, but when I glance back I see that I've easily got away from Joseph and the others. They're moving so slowly, I'm pretty sure it won't be a problem to keep ahead of them. But just the idea that they're somehow following me is pretty creepy, and I don't understand at all.
I decide to keep moving and to cover as much ground as possible. I'll still have to rest tomorrow during the day, and I have to make sure I'm far enough ahead of Joseph, Susannah and the others that they won't be able to catch up. They're moving slowly, so I don't think it'll be too hard. By dawn, I've covered so much ground that I've long since reached the point where I'm pretty sure I'll be safe, so I find a spot beneath an overhanging section of cliff and I shelter from the sunlight. I eat my final apple, which is already pretty rancid, and then I manage to get some sleep for a few hours, but I keep waking up in a panic, convinced I'll find that the dead people have caught up with me.
Eventually the sun starts to dip and I decide to get moving. It's still a little too hot, but I figure I'm in a hurry. As I step out into the open, I put my hand on the rock and feel how hot it is. Damn it, there's just no way I can keep outside during the height of the midday sun.
Hearing a noise behind me, I turn and see Joseph, Susannah and the others stumbling towards me. I thought they wouldn't be able to catch up, but I guess they've been walking relentlessly through the midday heat. As I stare at them, I see that they're almost burnt to a crisp. They've been out in the sun and their skin is red and blistered, but they're still stumbling towards me, albeit they're about thirty metres away.
"Fuck off!" I shout at them, feeling annoyed more than scared. I turn and start running, which is a bad idea in this heat. Soon, I've got so far away from them that I can't see them any more, but they're definitely following me and I know that if I rest for too long, they'll reach me and then... well, I don't know what they'll do, but I'm pretty sure it won't be much fun. So I keep moving, but soon I'm starting to feel pretty nauseous and disorientated, as if the brief period out in the sun, with no water, has left me too dehydrated to continue.
Eventually I have to sit on a rock. The sun has gone down now, but I realise with mounting alarm that it might be too late for me. There's no water around here, and I don't think I can go on. If I don't die from dehydration, thirst and exhaustion, I'll still be alive when Joseph and the others catch up to me. And soon I spot their familiar forms lumbering into view. I get up and try to hurry away, but I stumble and fall. I get to my feet and try again, but I'm so weak, I can barely move any faster than them, and after a few minutes I look back and realise that they might, in fact, be catching up to me.
A few minutes later, I come across a horrific sight. Seven dead bodies scattered across the ground, and I immediately recognise one of them as Dryer. I'd assumed they would have got further, and maybe done a little better, but I guess I was wrong. They died too. Stumbling over to Dryer, I see that his neck has been sliced open. That doesn't make any sense, who would do that?
Stumbling on a rock, I fall to the ground and this time I feel I don't have the energy to get to my feet. I roll onto my back and see that Joseph and the others are catching up to me. With
in a few minutes, they're almost on top of me. There's nothing I can do. I can't get away from them, so I just watch as their rotting, sunburnt forms gather around me. I guess this is it. I look up at the night sky and pray to God: Please don't let this hurt too much...
Chapter Three
Everything's black, but I feel hands on my body. I can't stay conscious, but there are definitely people touching me, holding me... but not hurting me. That's good. I guess there comes a point when your body just doesn't register the pain any more, which is one kind of mercy at least. I just wish my conscious mind would drift away, so that maybe I don't have to go through the experience of feeling my body getting ripped apart or whatever else these creatures are planning to do to me. Keeping my eyes squeezed shut, I wait for the end.
"Open your god-damned eyes," says a voice suddenly.
I pause, shocked. Joseph and the others looked to be far beyond the point where I'd expect them to be able to talk.
"For fuck's sake," the voice continues, "can you open your fucking eyes, girl?"
I open one eye and find that I'm looking up at what appears to be the metal roof of a room. I open the other eye and realise there's someone standing nearby, so I turn and see a middle-aged, slightly sunburnt man looking down at me. He's wearing a wide-brimmed brown hat, and he's smiling.
"Finally," the man says. "There's no time for napping. We've got to get a move on".
I take a deep breath. What the hell happened? I must have blacked out, and then... I try to sit up, but a flash of white-hot pain rips through my entire body and I collapse back on the table. It hurts so much, I can't even scream and my muscles all tighten up. I feel another, sharper pain in my shoulder, and moments later I start to feel numb as the pain subsides.
"That should take the edge off," the man says, having given me an injection. "I'm going to be honest with you. I've been a doctor for twenty years, and I've never brought a patient back from such bad internal injuries before. You're extremely lucky to be alive".
