by David Smith
I was right behind her now, close enough to touch her and could feel myself waking up, everything starting to dissolve. I reached out, thinking if I could grab her, maybe I could bring her out with me.
#
Then I awoke as the brakes squealed and the truck skidded to a stop. A few of the men jumped out of the back and from the inside I could hear the wet, crushing sounds of a few dead being put down with blades and blunt objects. Then, to my surprise, we passed through a different set of gates, which were quickly closed behind us.
The place was neither as heavily guarded nor as fortified as Magnolia Ridge but seemed much larger. The rusty chain link fence disappeared into thick woods hundreds of feet away from either side of the gate and this was all that could be seen of it. There were a few small, buried, concrete bunkers, their flat roofs sticking above ground only two feet or so, with a dugout stairway leading down to a thick steel door. Running along the front of each, under the overhang of the roof and just above the ground, were long, narrow, horizontal windows. The thick, shatterproof glass was opaque with years of dirt and oxidation. In front of the bunkers was a field of rolling hills, the woodline too far away to judge the distance, the trees not individually recognizable, but a dark, jagged line against the horizon. Most of the hills were planted in various crops and grown tall enough to hide the farmers. A few hundred yards out in the field was a white sign, the size of one of the billboards along the highway, with black silhouettes painted on it, a basic human size and shape.
A few minutes after the trucks killed their engines, they came out of the corn. At first I thought they were the dead, their thin frames, their black faces sun baked and caked with dust on sweat, their teeth brown and yellow with tobacco stains and generally poor care. There were eighteen of them, all totaled; two men, three women and twelve children between my age and about four and they worked, every last one of them. There was one I remember specifically. Even through the dirt and sweat it would be obvious to anyone how beautiful she was. She was a little taller than myself and thin but even in the rags she was dressed in, her figure was obvious before she even came out of the corn. She had a lighter complexion than the rest and curly, black hair and eyes like a doe. There was an intelligence in them that I could see when they met mine, thoughts going on in her head unlike any of the others that came out of the field.
"Might want to keep your eyes elsewhere young man." Jackson laughed deeply, like a jolly disembodied spirit. "That African beauty belongs to your friend, MacAdory."
I looked over my shoulder and the red-bearded man was staring at me. He spit tobacco juice, a few small drops landing in his beard, and said to Jackson while still looking at me. "She don't belong to nobody you damn dirty ape."
Jackson laughed again, even louder. I came to understand some time later, insults that would end in light bloodshed in a normal situation were the way these hard men relieved tension.
After they were all out of the field, one of the recon team leaders told one of the two farmers to help his men get their water out of the other truck. It was in a steel, 55 gallon drum and took six of them to manhandle it out of the truck and down into one of the bunkers. Once inside, they came back out with another drum, a little smaller, and loaded it into the truck.
Once this transaction of sorts was carried out, the recon commander, the huge, black man who had given us the tour, handed Beth a rifle he had brought, laying across the front seat of the truck. It was a assault rifle like their M-4’s but with a longer barrel and buttstock.
"You know how to load it?” he asked and she defiantly put the magazine into the slot, slapped up on it and pulled the charging handle, letting in slam forward to load a round into the chamber. “Alright,” he said, smiling with those pearl white teeth.
"Won't that draw the dead here?" I asked.
"Perhaps." He replied. "That's why we do it here and not where we live."
We each went through a 30 round magazine and when we were finished, she had actually done a little better than I had. They were impressed with her and the commander said he would recommend her for guard, but it was ultimately up to the Captain to decide.
I asked about being on recon and he said, maybe in a couple of years and if I put on about 20 pounds of muscle. But for now, I’m on guard duty.
On the way back to the truck, I asked Beth how she learned to shoot like that. She said it wasn’t that hard, that when Dad taught me how she was eavesdropping. On the way back to Magnolia Ridge, I speculated and devised all kinds of ways I might can work my way onto one of the recon teams.
Stephanie means a lot to me but I’m not sure if she feels the same way, or feels anything at all. Mom always said that dreams mean something, either God trying to tell us something we can’t realize on our own, or our own mind trying to tell us something we already know and won’t admit to ourselves.
Day 6
I was told yesterday that shift change was at 0700 hours. But after a restless six hours of wondering where Stephanie was I fell out of my bed and looked up to see Perez standing over me.
"They didn’t tell you to be at shift change at six? Come on.”
I followed him up the stairs and out onto the roof, the sun just breaking the horizon, and the three other guards were waiting for me. Perez continued to explain our sectors of fire and that nothing had been spotted on the previous shift. He then led me down to where I would be sitting all day and there was the man I had seen the day before, feet still propped up on the handrail. Perez kicked his chair out from under him and told him if he caught him lounged up again he would throw him off the roof. He then proceeded to throw the chair off and it busted into kindling on the ground.
"You don’t need a chair, right?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “Nope, I’m good.”
The rest of the morning, I stood there, shifting my footing every few minutes, looking out at the field, watching the cleanup crew gathering and hauling off the last of the bodies. Around noon they finally finished the almost week long chore and Perez came back.
"Glad to see you still on your feet. I can be tedious but don’t get complacent. A herd can show up at any time.” He seemed to be in a better mood so I decided to ask.
"What do I have to do to get on recon?”
He let out a short, condescending laugh. “For that, you gotta get in good with Captain...or way out on his bad side. Trust me, just be happy you are where you are. Best thing to do here is blend in, stay under the radar and do what you’re told and you’ll be fine.”
"It’s not me I’m worried about.” I told him.
"Oh. Your sister and that other girl?” He thought for a moment. “Everyone here is responsible for the well-being of someone else. Right now, you’re only responsibility is that fence. Take a load off man, and be thankful for that.” He said calmly, then set a plate down on the handrail and turned to walk away. I could tell it was a warning, masked in reassurance. The only thing I’m not sure of is whether he meant for me to pick up on it or if he was just playing a game of words to keep me in line. It’s amazing how tired standing and doing nothing can make you. I haven’t seen Stephanie all day.
Day 8
Today was the third day of guard duty, the third night of listening to the older man in our room and his wife taking turns mumbling through nightmares, and the third night I haven’t seen Stephanie.
I decided to count how many dead came to the fence and got killed by the cleanup crew, eight in twelve hours.
I talked to Perez a little longer today. He's not such a hardass once he knows you’re going to do your job. But he won’t talk much about the Captain or the way things are run. When I ask, he simply states the rules and gives no further opinion on them. I’ve got lots of opinions but I keep them to myself when it comes to him. For example, if the population distribution between men and women is unequal, they take volunteers to share partners. If no one volunteers, the Captain picks who will. The women work the fields and take care of the housewo
rk and the men do the more dangerous tasks, those that require close contact with the dead. Breeding is also scheduled and limited by the Captain based on how much food was produced the previous harvest season. If a woman gets pregnant and it won’t benefit the population then the pregnancy is terminated.
I asked Perez, “What about love? Compassion? Family?”
He said there’s just no room for that when you have to live this way. It's counterproductive to survival. He keeps a stiff upper lip but seems to be on the fence about a lot of it. I noticed that he has no wife or children.
I would ask Beth what she thinks about all this but she’s on the other shift so the only time I even see her is at shift change.
Day 9
Stephanie showed up late last night and laid down next to me. She laid her head on my chest and I could feel her sobbing. I asked why and she got mad and tried to leave, saying she didn’t want to talk about it, just wanted me to hold her. I followed her up the stairs and out onto the roof, begging her to talk to me, to tell me what she was crying about, until two of the nightwatchmen cut me off. They let her pass by but told me I wasn’t supposed to be up there. Beth was on the other side of the roof, by the front of the house, so I didn’t even see her.
I told Perez about it today and he said she wasn’t my responsibility.
"It would be best to leave that one alone, amigo. She’s gonna cause you problems that you don’t need.” Was all he would say.
More dead at the fence today than yesterday, but nothing the cleanup crew couldn’t handle.
I hope Stephanie comes back to the room tonight. I haven’t seen her around all day, which is nothing new but I’m kind of worried about her after that episode and having to leave her alone with the nightwatchmen. Seems like she would be out in the fields with the other women, or at least hanging around the kitchen at shift change this morning, washing dishes or helping with breakfast. The big guy, on the first day, said everyone has a job to do. Seems like she is the only person I haven’t seen doing one and the one I wish I could see the most.
Day 10
The old man in my room was up before daylight again. I lay there this morning, watching the cherry at the end of his cigarette illuminate the tip of his nose and chin and the back of his calloused hand every time he took a drag. I think we watch each other every night, but we’ve never spoken, as not to wake anyone else. He left shortly before I got up for shift change.
There were more dead at the fence today than yesterday. Seems that they grow in numbers a little every day. Recon rolled out for the first time in about four days. They came back intact, the bumpers and makeshift side guards covered with old, blackened blood and guts and chunks of hair.
I saw Stephanie for just a moment today and she seemed different. She was walking with the Captain as he made his rounds, carrying a notepad and writing down things I couldn’t hear him telling her from up on the roof. Did she ever look different! Being here was treating her very kind. The starvation at the store must have been stalling her from reaching puberty because in a week and a half, she has gone from a frail, little girl to an almost full grown woman. She was wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt and both were full of her, straining to hold the parts that weren't there almost two weeks ago. I was jealous of the Captain even though he’s an old man. But I’m glad she found her niche. Who knew she could read and write so well?
After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about her shape and lost track of the number of dead so I started a new game. I decided to see if I could estimate how many people actually live here.
I know there are eight guards, including Beth and myself. From watching them come and go, I think there are about twelve on recon. There are five on each shift of the cleanup crew. There there’s the old man in my room and the Captain. That makes thirty one men and Beth, which makes thirty two. There are, from my best guess, thirty five field hands, all women and children. There are eight that work in the house, cooking and cleaning, which brings the total for the women and children to about forty three. I’ve even seen a couple of toddlers running around but no babies. So, best guess I can come up with is about seventy five, or six, counting Perez.
At dinner, I saw Stephanie walk by the kitchen door and head up the stairs, following the Captain. I went after her and I called her name quietly from the bottom of the staircase as she was turning the corner. I really wanted to talk to her, see how she was doing and deep down, hoped for some clue as to what was going on with her, with us.
I went up the stairs and called her again as she was rounding the corner to the fifth floor. I knew the only thing on the fifth floor was the Captain's and Perez’ rooms. I followed her up, whispering her name, until they went into the Captain's and the door closed behind them. I knocked on the door, against my better judgment and the Captain opened it. He seemed annoyed when he said, “can I help you?” I told him I came to talk to her and he waved her to the door. She came out and closed it but basically told me to get lost, she was busy. Just as she closed the door, Perez opened his own, down the hall.
"What the hell are you doing up here?”
I started to speak and he cut me off.
"Get in here.” I went into his room and he closed the door, looking down the hall first. I started to tell him I was coming to try to catch up with Stephanie and he hushed me. I told him, much quieter and he shook his head.
"Didn’t I tell you to use your chain of command.”
"To talk to the Captain, yeah. Not to talk to my girlfriend.”
"That’s a problem see.” He whispered. “I hate to be the one to tell you this bro. She’s not your girlfriend and if you think she is, then you’ve got bigger problems.”
"What do you mean she’s not? You don’t know her.”
"Keep your voice down. The Captain doesn’t know how thin these walls are and I’d like to keep it that way. Everybody knows her, better than you do, if you get my drift.”
I was mad enough to hit him but deep down, I knew what he said was true.
"A girl like her, spoiled little princess and all. That’s the way it works around here. Any man who don’t have the time or don’t want the hassle of taking care of one, they all take care of the one. And any woman who don’t have any skills that benefit the whole community, they find the one skill they all have and she becomes the one that takes care of them. She’s not your problem, now get the hell outta here before the Captain sees you.”
I knew he was right and I knew it might come to this eventually. It sucked but it was kind of a relief, knowing it was over and it couldn’t get any worse. I went back to my room without eating. I punched one plywood wall till it was cracked and splintered and covered with blood from my knuckles. When my energy ran out I laid on the bed, fuming till I dozed off, drenched in sweat.
Day 11
I think I may have upset the wrong people. Stephanie came to my room after everything was quiet. She laid down, backing up to me and I let her pull my arm over her like a blanket. At first I didn’t realize she knew I was awake. She pressed her butt into me and I knew she must have been able to feel every bit of what she was doing. She took my hand and pulled it down to cradle her breasts through her shirt.
"You made me come here.” She whispered. “You saved me when I didn’t want to be saved and I love you for that.” She said, still looking away from me into the darkness.
I had so many questions to ask her, so much confussion in my mind but I knew if I did, she would leave. So I decided to try to play her game long enough to figure out the rules.
"I love you too.” Was all it took and she turned over to face me, lying on her back. I kissed her and it was much better this time. I won’t go into further detail to protect the respect I somehow still have for her, or maybe for myself. But the further we went, the closer I got, the more tense she became until she was lying stiff as a board, barely moving her lips as I tried to kiss her. I could tell it wasn’t what she wanted, I felt as if I was more molesting her than trying to
make love to her.
With her shorts unbuttoned and her shirt lifted up over her breasts I awkwardly stopped and pulled her shirt back down and pulled the sheet over us. I laid there for a moment and I could feel the door closing, what little she had opened it.
"What are you doing?” she finally asked.
"You don’t want to do this.” I told her.
"That’s your problem. Always telling someone else what they need or what they should want. It’s not up to you.” She said then stormed out of the room.
I started to chase after her and was derailed by a voice that sounded like 80 grit sandpaper being dragged across the low string of a bass violin.
"Sit down.” He said forcefully, yet quietly enough not to wake his wife and son. It was pitch black in the room, not enough light for my eyes to even adjust to but somehow he found a cigarette and a match. The match illuminated his face and it looked older than ever, like and ancient demon.
"You were watching us?” I asked as I sat back down on the bed, frightened and intrigued enough to forget about Stephanie for the moment.
"Only from the time she came in here till just now.”
"So you saw…”
"Yeah. Nice, real nice. I had one like her once.”
I got up from the bed, didn’t know what I was going to do but I wasn’t afraid anymore.
"You gonna kick an old man’s ass?” he laughed. “It ain’t me you have to worry about. A shotgun’s only dangerous when it’s loaded and mine’s full of rust.”
The comment caught me off guard and I kind of laughed.
“I see you watching me.” He said. “Watching everybody, trying to figure everybody out, but especially me. I been watching you too. What I figure is, the only thing you need to figure out is what you want from that girl. If it’s love you want, forget it. She ain’t capable of feeling and you chasing after a woman that everybody else don’t mind sharing, that’ll get you killed. If it’s a piece of ass you’re after, tell Jennings. He’ll even set it up for you, after he’s done with her, of course. Otherwise, take your sister there and get far away from this place as you can. And leave that girl here. She's a lost cause."
