Remnant

by Michael Clements

  She went to the living room, which was completely empty save for a couch. She recalled James' suite, seeing nothing but a dinner table and a couch in the living room there as well. It only made sense that Isaac would have swept through all the apartments, taking what he and his men desired for themselves, before allowing others to move in to their building. At least they were courteous enough to leave a couch in my apartment, she thought. And a nice mattress.

  Mercy dropped her blanket on the floor, already forgetting she had it. According to Seth, her child was doing fine, but there was no guarantee it would remain that way, and she wanted to see for herself. Checking on the boy frequently, however, would give away her cover almost as much as him screaming in pain. He might start crying once he wakes up! she feared. A difficult decision, but she ultimately decided to go see him. Without another second's hesitation, she opened the front door and just as quickly closed it behind her.

  “New girl!” called a familiar voice to her left. Across the hall there stood Daniel and two of his shadows. Both loyal dogs to a loyal dog, she thought. She acknowledged Daniel by glancing toward him, but nothing more. “What'cha keeping in there?” the henchman added coming toward her.

  “I came here empty-handed. You saw it yourself.”

  “Getting defensive?” he replied, shoving Mercy aside as he entered her apartment. “You sure didn't come back empty-handed with the scouts, did you? No one ever does.” The three men scoured the entire place, forcefully moving objects aside, pulling out the couch seats, slapping the junk in the closet around... They were only at it for a few minutes until Daniel admitted, “You did come back empty-handed. Shame. Sad for you, 'cuz that's how we feed ourselves around here. If you can't find food, you'll have nothing to eat.”

  “What about your boss? Does Isaac ever scout?” said Mercy directly.

  Daniel paused in front of her while his two men let themselves out. He only looked at her a moment, then exited as well. She saw her new home, what little there was, being trashed and further damaged. She half-believed it was intentional. What she would give for the freedom to complain about that behavior...

  Don't dwell on it, Mercy told herself. She left her apartment again, headed to the nearest stairwell, and from there, the courtyard. Immediately, she noticed the courtyard was where everyone kept active like they used to, before the war, as if there never was a war. Several men were playing sports or board games. Three of them were improvising games to play with a basketball, since they lacked a hoop. They seemed to have made up a new game since they lacked a hoop. Mercy also saw an older woman taking care of some shrubs with a trowel. So, that's why the soil looks rich, and the plants seem to be healthy. Mercy assumed the woman never scouted, meaning someone brought her those gardening tools.

  After crossing the courtyard, Mercy made her way to the east wing, uncertain if she remembered correctly where she left her adopted son; more reason for disappointment in herself. But her memory served her well, she realized when she correctly guessed the location of James' suite. Before knocking, Mercy looked to make sure she was not being watched.

  To her surprise, a woman answered the door. “Hello?” The woman kept the door open only a splinter.

  “Hi, I'm Mercy. You must be Candace... Is James here?” I sound like I saw a damn ghost.

  Candace was reluctant, as if formulating a convincing lie. “James left. Are you here for... him?” Mercy nodded, assuming Candace meant the boy. “James is out with someone, but should be back soon.” Her voice was weak, and her eyes saggy. Mercy nearly asked her if she needed help finding her way back to bed. “Come in,” said Candace. Rather than open the door further, she only turned away from it. Mercy stepped in, observing Candace helping herself to a cup of tap water. “So, how did you.. Gulp... How did you find Jayden?”

  “Jayden?” asked Mercy. Candace gestured her head toward the boy sleeping on the couch. “Oh.. I didn't know his name was Jayden. Well, uh... The scouts were at a hotel last night. We were ambushed.”

  “Ambushed by what? Troops?”

  “No... It was... guerrillas. They had kids with them. Armed kids. They were killing everyone they saw. And Jayden, well, I don't know what happened to him. He wasn't caught in the crossfire. Someone beat him.”

  “Where were you during this?”

  “Hiding. In an oven.”

  Candace nodded, taking another slight sip of her water. “Jayden's lucky you found him. You going to be his mother now?”

  Blunt, thought Mercy. “I'm not sure... I didn't really think about it. When I saw him, I just acted on instinct.” Candace nodded, never making eye contact. “So...” Mercy began again, contemplating a way to break the awkward tension. “How did you and James get stuck in downtown? Seems this part of Portland belongs to … deranged individuals.”

  “That's what it's become, isn't it?” said Candace. “Thank God for Isaac, taking us in.”

  Mercy envisaged Candace drinking a bottle of hard liquor, rather than a small cup of water. That would suit her personality, she thought. She acts like she wants to drink. Putting her opinions aside, she asked Candace, “Do you trust Isaac?”

  “Nobody trusts him, not even his own men; well, except his puppy Daniel. We all know he's hiding something, we just pretend to be ignorant. Life's easier that way.”

  “Looks like you're hiding something too.”

  Mercy's words finally brought Candace's eyes toward her. The woman only smirked, then returned to staring at the wall. “You're smarter than you look. More bold than you look, too.” She turned and dumped her water in the sink, then her cup with it. She walked past Mercy, her eyes half-shut, wandering off as she laid herself back onto her bed.

  She doesn't try to deny it. What would-

  The door opened abruptly. James' welcoming face smiled at Mercy as he set his med kit on the counter. “Why, hello. It's 'Mercy,' right?” he said. “Sorry, I forgot your name.”

  “You remembered correctly,” she said with no emotion. Turning toward the couch in the living room, she asked, “How is he?” There was a drastic change in the flux of her voice.

  “He's fine, last I checked, which was about … oh, about an hour ago. He's not unconscious, he just prefers to sleep away the pain. He woke up this morning crying his head off. I got his name then, at least...”

  “Jayden?”

  “Yes.” James looked surprised, yet pleased. “Did Candace tell you? Have you gotten to know each other?”

  “She told me.” While bingeing on water, she thought.

  “I'm glad you got to meet. I've been trying to find more friends for Candace. As much as I'd love to be the only one in her life...” James looked toward the slumbering boy. “Jayden told me he spells his name with a 'y' because he knew another boy with his name. He was very specific about the spelling.”

  “It's a good, strong name,” Mercy replied. “Has there been trouble from … anyone?”

  James glanced at Candace, who was lying on their bed facing away from them. “She's not too happy about it,” he said quietly, but not so that Candace did not hear him. “Nothing from Isaac's men, though.”

  “What's Jayden's condition?” Mercy walked over to him.

  “I stitched him up. Candace helps keep an eye on him when I'm away. When he was screaming, I thought we'd get caught for sure.”

  Mercy huffed. “Not that it would make a difference. I promised to tell Isaac about him, remember. I guess I'm just biding time until we're … exiled.” James said nothing. He lowered his head as if to apologize. “As long as you can treat his injuries, I'm not worried. When can I take him home?”

  “Where is home?” When Mercy glared at him, James stopped himself. “Sorry. That was a terrible joke. His home is with you now.” Mercy ignored everything he said until he answered her question. “He should be fit to go home any time. It's probably best to wait until night; you know, so people don't see him and everything. I trust you'll tell Isaac tomorrow morning?”

  Mercy nod
ded. “Yes,” she answered grudgingly. “I keep my word.” She decided to leave. When she stepped up to the door, James politely accompanying her, she turned to him. “Thanks again for treating him, considering the risk.”

  “It's not a risk. I only do what I believe Christ has instructed me to do.”

  Mercy opened the door, only smiling at James as her final gesture. He said his goodbye. Jayden had been on her mind since before she stepped out of their apartment. She wondered what would transpire once Isaac learned about him.

  Mercy reached only a few steps from the apartment before someone stepped in front of her. She looked up, seeing a taller man who seemed somewhat familiar. “I knew it!” the man virtually screamed. “I saw you bring a kid here!”

  ISAAC

  “We're losing ground, sir.”

  Isaac was rather unimpressed with the short report. He could not even be sure of the name of the man reporting to him. Lance? he thought. Lawrence? Something with an 'L.' He had been enjoying some dry-roasted peanuts since before the meeting began. Looking at his messenger, he asked, “What precisely does that mean?”

  “The troops have almost all of east Portland. Most of East Side has been reclaimed by now, and they've taken a good chunk of West side too. They have the south end of downtown up to the KOIN Tower, and the north side down to the Fremont Bridge.”

  “I'm not completely sure what that means, but it sounds like we're just … screwed.” Isaac pondered that for a moment. He saw Daniel seated at the far end of the room. Seth sat beside him, his arms crossed, twice as attentive as Daniel. “So, they're expanding,” he thought aloud. “I thought the lines were drawn. We were in a stalemate.”

  Daniel pitched in. “They've had every city in the area for a while now.” He was eating an apple loudly, which annoyed Isaac. The guy already made chronic strange motions with his mouth when he wasn't chewing something. Daniel always looked like he was getting something out of his teeth.

  “It seems the Reformists still have Tualatin all through Sherwood, boss. The troops, however, seem to control Beaverton and Hillsboro for the most part.”

  “Lawrence,” Isaac addressed, “you said the troops have East Side?”

  “It's Lamar, sir. And, yes. Yes they do, sir.”

  Isaac rubbed his temples. “Enough with the formalities. Jesus people, just call me by my name. Anyway, does that mean the Reformists have been completely driven out of Portland? Because if so, we're royally fucked. According to what Daniel here just told me, we're surrounded. Sandwiched, if you will. That's not good news.” He looked at his second-in-command. “What about Washington?”

  “They got Vancouver, too,” said Daniel. “That's all I know.”

  Isaac sighed heavily. “Can't say I didn't see this coming. We're not a united force down here, anymore. The Reformists retreat, and only the rats get left behind. No offense, men. We're a scattered litter of thugs. I don't know even half of the bosses operating down here, and I live right next to them. What does that say about our organizational skills?” None of the present dozen-or-so men answered. The way Daniel bit his apple, it seemed he had heard nothing Isaac had just said. “Maybe we ought to expand.”

  Cameron had just entered. Isaac completely forgot about him and the reconnaissance he had sent him for. He seemed to have gotten into some trouble – his clothes were more worn and torn than he last remembered. It didn't worry Isaac, because Cameron knew how to handle himself. With long, greasy hair, along with completely black attire and eyes never more than half-open, no one would cross paths with him lightly. Cameron never talked, but he knew how to handle himself and complete tasks, hence the reason Isaac sent him first with all business taking place outside the compound. The boy was so quiet, Isaac knew he'd forget about him before the end of the meeting again.

  Everyone waited for the chains hanging from Cameron's pants to stop clanging. Then Seth asked, “How would we expand? We only have enough people to hold this building.”

  “We make allies, Seth,” sighed Isaac, rising from his desk to stand by the window. “Downtown has more than enough people to keep the troops at bay. Although... Part of me is tempted to make friends with them instead.”

  “Why?” asked Seth, sounding defensive.

  “We might have the numbers to keep our … concrete jungle,” Isaac began. “But let's face it: We can't hold off Uncle Sam forever. They have the resources. They have better living conditions. They're healthier. They've recommissioned the infrastructure in the areas they've reclaimed.”

  Seth stood tall. “That doesn't mean we should surrender. They started this war. The troops serve the people who oppressed us for years. The same people who took away our rights, the people who let the wealthy keep all the money and made slaves out of the rest of us.”

  Isaac chuckled. “Nobody was ever a slave to the rich, Seth. You're sounding just like the Reformists.”

  “People could only afford to buy their food from the places they worked, if they were lucky enough to work somewhere that sold food. The middle class disappeared; it was just the poor and the rich. And then Conservatives nearly took away all the rights and freedoms of the poor. Not to mention, they took away the minimum wage, then most companies only paid their employees four fucking dollars an hour! I had to be a drug dealer just to make ends meet.”

  “You're sounding more and more like the man who started this mess. Everything you just said was something he made up. Why don't you change your last name to Krauss while you're at it? You became a drug dealer because it paid well, Seth, not because you had to. Every legitimate job you were eligible for, as few as there were, you thought yourself too good to have. Don't pretend I don't know what I'm talking about. I was there. I gave you your living.”

  Seth was silent. He stepped back. Good boy, thought Isaac.

  “The troops aren't the bad guys,” continued Isaac as he faced the window again. Outside, he saw a woman carefully walking through the street with her child, frantically keeping watch of her surroundings. “As much as I don't agree with this war Martin Krauss started, I have no choice but to be on his side. If I were caught, it wouldn't be hard for officials to link me to innumerable crimes. I'd never see freedom again. You forgot to mention the one thing Krauss was right about, Seth: too many innocent people were sent to prison for too long. What do you think they'd do to someone who is actually guilty of heinous crimes?”

  Daniel had paused his chewing, awkwardly holding the half-devoured apple in his hand. “So, what are we going to do? Rally the other clans?” he said with bits of his food falling out his mouth.

  “It does seem to be our only option,” said Isaac. He stood behind his desk, leaning on his fingertips. “I wonder what will happen if the troops take the city. They've nearly won already. Have any of you heard news of ongoing rebellion?” The informants in the room responded in the negative. “Daniel... Scour the area. Negotiate an alliance with any stronger clans you find. Don't waste time with groups under five people, though.”

  Daniel finally took the last bite of the fruit. “About that...” he began. “There's something I need to talk to you about later, sir.” Isaac agreed.

  “We'll get that under way. In the meantime, how are we doing domestically?”

  Lamar, the first messenger, responded promptly. “There's a family waiting outside. They want shelter.”

  Isaac sighed. With heavy steps, he approached the door. “I'm not in the mood for this,” he said to himself. His men escorted him all the way to the front gate, two to his front and three to his back. I know how this will turn out already, he thought as he beheld a man and woman standing outside the gate, hunched and atrophic. When they saw him they fiercely gripped the bars of the gate.

  “Please let us in!” begged the man. The woman seemed too weak to utter a sound, not even a whimper.

  Isaac kept calm as always, speaking professionally. “This isn't a homeless shelter. We have our own … society here,” said Isaac. “Everyone lives in peace and we take ca
re of each other. How could you contribute to our … society?”

  The man stuttered. He kept grabbing his jacket as if to extract something, but never did. “We can stay at the gate. The gate, it's not much. We guard it, day and night.” He stopped there, much to Isaac's confusion.

  Junkies. Why hasn't the war weeded out these lowlifes? Isaac responded calmly. “I'm sorry sir. Ma'am... We only keep able bodies here. Whatever you're on, I don't want to deal with it, and neither do my people. So, please step away. Besides, my best men guard the gate, not just anyone who volunteers.” As far as he could tell, the couple either could not understand him or refused to listen. The man only continued to babble about staying at the gate. As to why the couple wanted to stay at the gate, Isaac thought, Metal to protect them, and gaps between to smuggle in the goods. He'd had enough of them. “If you don't step away, my men will shoot you both.” He spoke plainly and directly, like reciting facts. “Don't trouble us with that mess.”

  The woman cried, “Please! We- we always.... I have....” Isaac gestured. It seemed to finally sink in with the man, who took his companion by the arm and hurried them away from the gate, looking back every couple of seconds to make sure no one was preparing to fire.

  Isaac smiled. “Cameron,” he called. His summons came before him. “I'm done reviewing applicants.” Cameron, acknowledged his order, replacing the man currently on gate duty. Then he heard someone call to him urgently.

  “Sir!” One of Isaac's men ran to him frantically – one of the roof watchers. “We saw him,” he panted heavily before his boss.

  “Who?”

  Daniel stepped up to the gate. “Ethan?” he asked the messenger.

  “Yes,” the man answered. “We're bringing him around.”

  Isaac paused. His men waited patiently for him to speak. “Bring Mercy here.” Half of them left promptly.

  Daniel approached his boss reluctantly, keeping his eye on the gate. “Sir,” he whispered. “I don't think Ethan will be of any use.”