Famine: The Quiet Apocalypse

by T M Edwards

  “Maybe not, but Sam, hard decisions have to be made in war. You know that. You’ve made them.”

  I realized I’d said the wrong thing when his eyes went cold and his shoulders tensed. “And look where that fucking got me.” Before I could say anything, before I could take it back, he swept out of the room, slamming the door shut so hard the draft blew the candle out.

  Now encased in darkness, I fell back onto the mattress and cried. I knew I was being weak. I knew I was being ridiculous. I knew it was just hormones, but none of this would make the tears stop.

  You just compared Mankato’s words with Sam accidentally getting a little girl killed. You just told him the event which broke him “happens in war.” You just compared yourself to the child whose death ripped his heart to shreds. Good going, Deidre. You’re a real keeper.

  22: Where's Sam?

  I didn’t see Sam for two days. Mankato had asked the woman in charge of delegating the smaller jobs to give me something less tiring than going out to help gather supplies. So I was assigned to laundry duty, a neverending task and a mindless one. It gave me far too much time to think as I spent hours folding towels and hanging up dozens of articles of clothing in the wardrobe side of the laundry’s shipping container. Honey Badger, who had found willing companions and playmates among the bunker’s children, often spent this time laying across my feet. It never lasted long, though, before some child would show up in the doorway of the laundry room waving a tennis ball, and she’d dash off to play.

  The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced Mankato was right. If there was any chance I could save my people, any chance I could save lives anywhere in the country, I had to try. I couldn’t let my fears and self-preservation keep me from that. Mankato wouldn’t be right to force me...but was I right to resist going?

  Of course, this train of thought soon found me descending into a dark pit of anxiety over the idea of traveling across the country to meet up with yet another set of people I didn’t know...and anyway, how the heck were they going to transport me across that much space when fuel and vehicles were so scarce?

  Most of my internal conversations involved a repetition on a theme. My mental voices would argue in favor of going, then of staying.

  Then, I’d remember Mankato’s words suggesting I might not have a choice, and I’d be right back firmly in the “anxiety” phase of the silent and one-sided discussion.

  On the third day, I found myself standing in front of the room Mankato used as an office, my hand sweating where it grasped the smooth handle of my cane. If I was going to do this either way, I wanted it on record that nobody was forcing me into it. I’d go under my own steam with my head held high, or not at all.

  Slightly larger than the rooms to either side, Mankato’s office was painted white and had an actual door rather than a plywood barrier on hinges. The walls were also straighter, where those of many others were, well, leaning. I reached out and knocked, and received an immediate invitation to enter.

  I found him sitting, his tall frame crammed behind the plastic folding table he used as a desk, neck-deep in papers and notebooks. He glanced up at me, then straightened and set aside his pen. “Please, sit.” He gestured to the folding canvas camping chair on the near side of the desk. “What can I do for you, young one?”

  Why does he always call me that? It’s not like I’m the youngest person here. That was beside the point, though. Taking a deep breath, I told him what I’d decided. “I want you to contact the people in Georgia. I’ll go.”

  Though Mankato’s face never showed much emotion, I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. “I am glad. You have made the right choice. Your child could be the cure the entire country so desperately needs.”

  I held up a hand. “I have one condition though.”

  “I cannot guarantee it will be accepted, but I will listen.”

  That was as much as I could hope for. “Sam comes with me.” If he even wants to. “And Honey Badger,” I added as an afterthought. I wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe I didn’t want her to be the first to get banished from the bunker when food got scarce. Maybe I wanted her comforting presence when everything around me was new and different.

  Mankato nodded. “I will ask.”

  “Okay.” Feeling a little nauseous with anxiety, I stood. I’d done all I could do. I’ve just agreed to sign my life away and become a human incubator for humanity’s cure, that’s what I’ve done. Swallowing, I nodded at Mankato and left the room before I could start crying, or puke...or both.

  After a moment when I sank back against the exterior wall of the office and tried to catch my breath, I pushed myself upright and set out toward the laundry room to start my work.

  ***

  “What do you mean, he’s not here?”

  The willowy woman with the clipboard waved a hand. “He’s probably out with the supply gatherers. All I know is I don’t have him here.”

  Deeply unsettled, I pinched my lips shut and watched as she walked away. When I turned around, I found Mankato standing just outside his office. He waved at me and beckoned me over.

  I limped up to him. “Do you know where Sam is?”

  “Yes, I believe he’s out with the gatherers. I have news regarding your journey to Atlanta.”

  Something in the way he said the first sentence, so similar to the way the woman had, set me on edge. I haven’t seen Sam in four days and all anyone can tell me is “probably” and “I believe.” Either they know where he is, or they don’t. What the hell is going on?

  I stepped into the office after Mankato and accepted the seat he offered me. “So?” My tone was abrupt, but I could have dared anyone to spend the whole morning either puking or on the verge of it, then try to navigate the rest of the day in a state of vague nausea and brain fog while still being kind.

  “They have accepted your conditions. They will be here tomorrow. We will take you to meet them just after dawn.”

  I clasped my hands together in my lap as they started to sweat. “So soon…how can they get here so soon?”

  “I don’t know. As you have said, many lives are at stake. The sooner they can begin gathering data, the better. Perhaps there are tests they can do before your child is born. All I know is we gain nothing by waiting.”

  “Right.” Overcome with anxiety, I rose and grabbed my cane. “I need to find Sam. If you see him, please tell him I need to talk to him?”

  “Of course.”

  As I emerged into the common area and glanced around at the people there, I couldn’t look at any of them. I’d never bothered to learn any of their names, beside the ones I’d been introduced to. I think I’d always known we wouldn’t be here long. As much as I ached for a place to settle down, even for a few months, we had to keep moving forward in our quest to end the apocalypse.

  There was no time to indulge my nagging sense of self-pity, no time to rest or process. We had to keep moving, keep fighting, keep letting the health of our minds and bodies be a casualty of this war against a faceless enemy.

  No matter where I searched or who I asked, I couldn’t find Sam. Honey Badger joined me at some point and followed, so close to my heels I stepped on her once or twice. She seemed to sense my growing unease, and refused to leave my side even when multiple children called to her.

  By the time I’d searched every work room, the bathrooms and even the exterior of the bunker, I was exhausted and fighting back panic. How can they not know where he is? “Maybe” out with the gatherers isn’t good enough. Someone has to know. Someone always knows who is assigned to what job. Their system is just as tight as ours back home. How can they not know where he is?

  I did my work in the laundry while Honey Badger’s black body laid across my feet. I ate lunch with the rest of the group, though I sat at a table by myself and only managed to finish about half of the stew before the texture of the mushy beef and vegetables started making me nauseated.

  A couple people tried to get me to join them in a
card game, but I declined. I briefly considered going outside before I remembered how bitterly cold it was here. Plus, with more Resistants here, the likelihood of someone bothering me outside wasn’t much lower than if I stayed in.

  After another round of laundry, I wandered to my room, where I laid on my back and stared at the underside of the top bunk. Honey Badger’s warm body lay next to my legs, and she put her head on my belly. I looked down at her as she regarded me with her amber eyes.

  “You have no idea what’s going to happen.” I reached down and stratched her behind her notched ear, and her eyes closed as she groaned in appreciation. “Your whole life is about to change again, and you might think you have a choice, but the only choice you get to make is the one someone else makes for you.”

  Sam, where are you? I have to talk to you. I have to tell you. You’ll be mad, but I hope you’ll understand. I don’t know any other way to save our people. I can’t get back to them. I can’t bring them food. Besides sit here and wait for spring, this is all I can do. I grimaced as I realized that by the time spring came and it was warm enough for us to make the trip back, I’d be far too big to walk all that way. Even if I thought I could get rid of this child, in a world that so desperately needs to be rebuilt and repopulated, they’d never let me.

  Tears leaked from my eyes as I stared at the wooden beams and mattress underside. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. But I can’t do anything else. Just come back, Sam. I won’t leave without you, and they’re not going to be happy with me if they came all this way for nothing.

  23: Atlanta...or Not?

  I woke to pounding on my door and Honey Badger’s barking. I bolted upright, which turned out to be a mistake, and ended with me having to rush past whoever stood at the door on my way to the bathroom.

  When I finally emerged, still not quite sure I should be so far away from a toilet, Mankato stood outside. “We leave in an hour.” Without waiting for a response, he walked away. I watched him go, wondering at the change in his demeanor.

  He’s acting so strange.

  “Wait!” I called after him. “Where’s Sam? Did the group come back last night?”

  I watched Mankato as he stopped and spun to face me. “Sam knows. He will meet us there.”

  “But…” he wasn’t listening. He just kept walking.

  Confused and worried, I headed back into the bathroom for a shower. My stomach roiled with anxiety and hormones. I tried to convince myself it was just the effect of pregnancy on my brain that was making me so paranoid. Sam was just mad. He’d been mad before. We were all busy. Everyone had to work if they wanted to eat. Mankato hadn’t lied to me yet, and I had no reason to believe he was lying now.

  Just get it together, Deidre. Everything’s fine. Focus on meeting the people from Atlanta and stop worrying about stupid stuff.

  I’d almost managed to convince myself as I showered and changed into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants. I might not be showing yet, but anything tight on my stomach made me sick. By the time I’d managed to choke down some oatmeal, it was time to go.

  Grabbing my cane from my room, I approached where Mankato stood by the door with two other men. My progress was slower than normal. Running to the bathroom each morning was hell on my injured ankle, and it was more painful than usual. I didn’t want to think how hard walking would be once I was roughly the size and shape of a whale.

  “Ready?”

  At my nod, Mankato led the way up the ramp while the other two men followed behind. “Where are we going?”

  “We’re meeting them at the airstrip.”

  My jaw dropped a little and I paused, nearly making one of the men behind me bump into me. “They’re flying?”

  “Yes. Please, come.” Mankato waved at me to keep moving.

  A plane. They have a plane while other people starve. The pit of my stomach had gone sour with a feeling I couldn’t identify. It wasn’t quite disgust. I just couldn’t believe one group of people had this kind of resources while the rest of the country entered winter with no replenishment of supplies. But then again, weren’t they trying to save us all? Is that really a justification to hoard resources?

  I was so caught up in my thoughts that I barely noticed as we reached the outside and walked through the bitter wind to climb into the pickup that stood there. Mankato drove and I took the passenger seat, while the two other men hopped into the truck bed and drew the hoods of their coats close around their faces.

  Mankato started the truck and pulled it out onto the dirt road leading to the highway. I watched as dry grass and barren hills turned to pavement. At least this was less nauseating than jolting around in the back of the bus.

  “Thank you.”

  I glanced at him in surprise. “For what?”

  “For making this choice.”

  “You basically forced it on me, now you’re thanking me?”

  The copper-skinned man nodded as he watched the road. “Yes, young one. Even if I know a thing must be done, I never relish the thought of asking anyone to do it against their will. I am glad you came to agree with me.”

  “Is giving consent really consent when there’s no other choice?” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I understood we all had to make hard decisions. That didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

  “Maybe not.” He fell silent and I watched the world go by through the windows.

  When we pulled into the little airport, the early morning sun casting long shadows along the runway, the uneasiness in my stomach turned into a sharp ache. I was about to meet the people I’d spend the next few months with. At least I’d have Sam and Honey Badger with me.

  “Wait!” I called out, and Mankato paused in the process of opening his door. “We forgot Honey Badger!” I’d been so caught up in getting ready that I’d forgotten about the dog.

  “Sam will bring her.” Mankato stepped down.

  “Oh. Okay.” I followed his example, zipping up my coat as I stepped down into the wind. The frigid air bit at me. I might as well not have worn a coat for all the good it did. I limped over to stand next to Mankato as he stopped on the asphalt a few dozen feet away from the truck. “Where are they?”

  Mankato pointed to the sky, where I could just barely see the tiny dot of an approaching airplane black against the sunrise. The roar of airplane engines reached my ears. Such a strange sound, after all these months lived without the hum of machinery or electronics.

  As the airplane approached, I twisted to look for more vehicles. “Sam knows, right? He knows what’s going on?”

  The older man gave me a gentle smile as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “Don’t worry, young one. He will be here. Be patient.”

  So, I tried to wait patiently as the airplane grew bigger. I watched with my heart in my throat as it descended to the far end of the runway and roared toward us. The shiny white body of the plane was so familiar, yet so foreign in the world as I knew it now. I felt almost like I was breaking the “rules” of the apocalypse, watching something so high-tech approach through what remained of a long-abandoned airstrip.

  By the time the plane coasted to a slow stop, my heart was pounding. I was about to meet the people who could save us all. In just minutes, I could be participating in a piece of the new world’s history.

  I clasped one sweating hand on top of my cane, and stuck the other in my pocket as the exit stairs descended and three people appeared in the dark doorway. A tall man with spiky red hair descended first. He wore a long white lab coat that flapped in the wind and was utterly useless in these kinds of temperatures. The other two were dressed more practically in gray coveralls with vests over the top.

  The blond man descended the stairs at a half-run, and crossed the couple hundred feet between us at a quick pace. He had a strange sort of manic energy that was compelling to watch, even though the way he moved was quirky and unpredictable. The two others followed behind, though they didn’t speak and hung back a few feet.
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  He seized Mankato’s hand and gave it a quick shake before moving on to me. More gently, he bent down so he was at my eye level and offered me his hand. After a brief instant spent contemplating whether I’d keep my embarrassingly-perspiring hand where it was, I pulled it out of my pocket and accepted his handshake.

  “Hello, Deidre. It’s a great pleasure to meet you.” The man’s eyes burned with a zealous sort of intensity. Whatever his role in this whole situation, his passion for his job oozed from every pore. “I’m Dr. Fredricks. We are thrilled to welcome you aboard Atlantis Projects.”

  Atlantis? I thought Mankato said Atlanta. When Dr. Fredricks released my hand and straightened, I swallowed. “Thank you.” That’s just the company name, Deidre, don’t be ridiculous.