Remnant

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Remnant Page 31

by Michael Clements


  James didn't forget the women at home. He could not bring himself to eat while they were waiting, starving, but he also could not expose them in any way. “Can we look through it?” he asked. He was only biding time until he thought of a clever way to get something back to the women inconspicuously.

  “Sure,” said Zoey.

  “Why?” said Seth. James shot him a deathly glare, silencing him.

  After a time pretending to rummage, he thought of a decent ploy. “We shouldn't snack, Seth. We should take something that needs to be cooked.”

  “And why would we do that?”

  “To savor what we have. Cooked foods usually come in greater quantities too.”

  “Can't argue with that,” said the man. “Mostly we just got rice.”

  “Any you can spare?” asked James.

  “Don't worry about what we can spare,” said the man. “You saved our Zoey. Take it all if you want to.”

  Not a lot of nutrition in rice, James thought, but at least it'll fill our stomachs. We could enjoy a good campfire anyway. James and Seth gathered four of the six boxes of rice and two cans of soup, one for Candace and Mercy each. “We appreciate it,” said James with a bright smile.

  “You guys have company back home?”

  James prayed Seth would not do anything to give them away. “Just my brother looking after my son,” he lied. It always pained him to lie. He had spent a lifetime training himself to be truthful at all times. “He's sick, so we're scavenging for both of them.”

  “Well, you know you guys are welcome to stay with us. There's always safety in greater numbers.”

  James forced a smile. “That would be great. I'll be sure to ask. You guys will be here tomorrow, right?”

  “Of course. If you don't decide to take us up on it, be sure to give your family my regards,” said the man. James said he would, and the two departed.

  They were almost home, enduring the fear of being mugged the whole trip back. Their packages of rice were loud, despite their best efforts to remain silent and unseen. James noticed they were lighter on their feet, despite being frail from hunger only an hour before. It made him think about the human spirit giving more life to the body even when it's deprived of what it needs. A reminder that there's hope, he reassured himself when thinking about their situation.

  “What the hell was that for?” asked Seth.

  James knew what he meant. “I didn't want you to give Candace and Mercy away.”

  “So, what? You think I'm too stupid to know how to keep a secret?”

  “I was just worried, that's all.”

  “Are you kidding? I know what's at stake here. If you don't trust me to keep them secret, why did you bring me along in the first place? It's hard enough...” Whatever Seth said, James had no desire to hear it. He did, however, notice Seth's bruises becoming more swollen and colored.

  “I'll take care of that when we get home,” said James.

  Seth had been in the middle of speaking, but stopped. “Take care of what?”

  “Your injuries there.” James did not look at him, as he found his mind drifting away yet again. Seth ceased running his mouth, and James thought he heard him utter an apology.

  They checked their surroundings before returning inside. The area was clear. James tapped on the wood. Candace asked who was there. “It's just us,” he softly answered. They began to move the barriers from both sides, then stepped in. Before James could help Seth replace them, Candace embraced him tightly. His heart melted.

  “What'd you get?” she said with her face half-muffled by James' back.

  “Food,” said Seth, as if annoyed. He set down the two cans he carried. “We got some soup for you, ladies.”

  Mercy emerged from her makeshift bed on the floor and approached Seth. “What will you guys eat?” she asked him.

  “We already ate a little,” he replied.

  James forgot where he was or where he had come from. Candace had not embraced him that way for months. Best of all, she did not let go for a long time. Eventually James turned so he could embrace her as well, face-to-face. It seemed she forgot about her hunger. James didn't ask her why the sudden affection. 'Why' was irrelevant, and forever would be. He was equally as happy to see she was still alive.

  “If you won't say anything, James, I will,” said Seth. “So, girls, we found some friendly people. We're not sure about them, but we'll see.”

  “How did you find them?” asked Mercy.

  “It doesn't matter,” said Seth after a long pause. “We'll just... We'll visit these people tomorrow and get a better feel for it. They seem to be safe, though.”

  Candace and Mercy seemed to be on board with the idea of it. At least, they expressed no opposition.

  That night, they made their meal on the roof of the building, making sure to build their fire at the exact center of the roof so it could not be seen from the streets. There was not much to say. Candace had herself wrapped around James' arm the entire time, grinning to herself. James dared to ask why she was so happy, but other than saying, “I'm just happy to be with you,” she did not answer him at all. James saw that Seth and Mercy were getting along better than usual, too; well enough to exchange jokes with one another, and actually smile while doing so. What did they talk about while we were gone? he repeatedly asked himself.

  Later, after the fire was snuffed and they could peacefully return to the room with a little more hope, Candace was the first to lay down and invited James to cuddle up next to her. She wrapped an arm around him, and he did likewise. “I love you,” he whispered so softly even she could have missed it. Their faces were touching, sometimes kissing. James couldn't drop his smile.

  She said it back: “I love you, too.”

  Though Seth and Mercy slept on the opposite end of the floor, Mercy had allowed him to sleep within a short arm's reach of her.

  On his side, James and Candace were fairly alone, and the darkness, which was too thick to look through, aided in that. Candace slipped her fingers between James' legs, stroking him slowly. James slid his fingers between her legs as well, except his fingers were inside her pants. They continued to passionately kiss as they gently pleasured each other, only as much as their hunger allowed them.

  Over and over, they said it to each other: “I love you.”

  They finished simultaneously. Both were wet, and the smell would remain until they found an adequate means to wash their clothing, but it did not matter. Candace rolled onto her other side and James held her, his head resting above hers. Lying more closely than they had in ages, they drifted into sleep.

  –––––––

  Boisterous pounding was followed by loud snapping and breaking. Then, footsteps... By the time James rose to his feet, he saw that the four of them were no longer the only ones in the room. The faint morning light showed them enough of the figures before them. Candace gasped. James recognized the people, especially the female among them.

  “Zoey... What do you want?” he said.

  Seth shielded Mercy where they stood. Three of the intruders approached them.

  “Your friend hurt my friend,” she answered sarcastically. “You have a couple girls here? This is a treat.”

  “What do you mean 'hurt your friend?'” asked Seth.

  Zoey didn't even look at him when replying, “My friend Robert, here. You weren't supposed to beat him up. Nobody is. That's not how we play the game. You must be an exceptional individual, being able to beat up a guy like Robert. He has a favor he'd like to repay.”

  “Please, there's no need for violence,” said James, starting to shake.

  “First, we'll take the girls,” said Zoey. “Now, please move aside, James. You too, Seth.”

  James held his ground as if cemented to it. “Why? What do you want them for? What did we do to deserve this?” His panic spoke for him. In his right mind, he would never question a force he could not resist.

  “This is how we make a living. Sorry, boys.” The men ac
companying Zoey cocked their guns as they approached. James kept Candace behind him. He saw Seth trembling violently. “Fine,” said Zoey. “The hard way, it is!”

  Zoey's men threw James aside. He did not resist. Seth, though, stood his ground, and they resorted to using the butts of their rifles. James didn't allow himself to look, as he heard the blunts pummel Seth to the floor. The girls remained silent, though appeared equally as terrified as James. “Please, don't!” he begged. Two men seized Mercy while the two that pushed James aside took Candace. “Please, you don't have to do this! Stop!”

  “James... Give it up,” said Zoey.

  Seth writhed on the floor, groaning as he attempted to stand, but Robert, the man he had beaten to 'save' Zoey, approached him, slamming him back down. He threw several extra punches, until Seth was covered in bruises and blood. “Fuck ... you!” coughed Seth. “Mercy... Run!” His scream was met with Zoey's laughter.

  “Alright, kill them,” the girl ordered.

  “NO!” screamed Mercy as the men aimed their weapons. “Look, just let them live. They won't come after you, I promise. Okay, guys? Please,” she said to James and Seth, “don't make this any worse.”

  James reluctantly nodded, while Seth grudgingly agreed, adding curses.

  “Alright,” she said. “Let them live, and we'll leave.”

  “Okay, then,” sighed Zoey. “I guess Seth can't do anything now, and James is a pussy.” She snapped her fingers. Candace struggled at first but seemed to accept her fate. She cried James' name as the men dragged her and Mercy from the room.

  They were gone...

  “AHHH!” Seth screamed as he stumbled to his feet. He growled at James. “You'll fucking rescue her? You? No you won't. No you fucking won't.”

  James ran to Seth. “Are you okay? Anything broken?”

  Seth shoved him aside. “I'm fine.” He began to scour the room. “Find your gun. We can't just leave them.”

  “Seth, I...” James couldn't finish. He wasn't sure what he even meant to say.

  “Let's go!”

  “How can we get them back, Seth? I'm not a killer. We should find help. Nobody has to die.”

  Seth pushed James in the chest. “That's how it is! Okay? Your God hasn't done jack shit! If you care about Candace, you'll fight to save her life.”

  James trembled. “What if it's God's will?”

  “Fuck God's will! Why do you bother believing in him when he allows shit like this? Who cares if he even exists or not. I don't care what his will is. I'm not going to leave Mercy to be raped and killed. Now, I'm fucking leaving before it's too late.”

  As Seth gathered his weapons and started to run out the door, James felt weakness overcome him as he said, “Wait! I'm coming with you.”

  When the two made it out of the building, they heard the sound of Candace's cries, and followed. As they drew closer, they saw the girls being dragged by their arms, and at some moments, their hair, as they continued to struggle. James felt his heart sink. He examined his pistol... “They're going to split them up if we get any closer,” he said.

  Seth looked at him. “This might mean goodbye, then.”

  “Take care, Seth.”

  Without any further stalling, Seth aimed his pistol carefully, then fired a shot.

  You could have hit them! James screamed in his mind.

  Fortunately, Seth's bullet struck one of Zoey's men in the back of the head. An impressive shot from that distance, and one that James wished to be able to duplicate. The two ran toward the girls, and sure enough, the men split them up, but not before first firing back.

  James found cover. At the intersection ahead, when he saw Candace being dragged right, and Mercy left, he ran for Candace, never looking back, but hoping the best for Seth.

  James fired his pistol, fortunately not striking Candace, but not her captors either. One of them fired a round back, grazing James' shoulder. He cried more loudly than he knew he could. The agony was unimaginable. Dropping to the ground, crawling behind a car, he saw blood pour from his wound. Candace cried as the men continued to beat and drag her. Hearing her voice suppressed the pain in his shoulder, as he found the courage to rise and run toward his love with all his strength and will.

  Coming around a bend, seeing them in the street, surrounded by buildings and vehicles, James aimed his weapon carefully. When one of the men turned, seeing him rise again, he nearly shot, but James fired first, unloading his weapon on the man.

  Candace was half free.

  As the man to her right dropped, she struggled more violently than ever to break free of the one who remained. She kicked him in the groin, which released his grip, but the man reflexively fired a round into her chest. James saw that it had struck her heart.

  At full force, James ran at the man, tackling him, and began to beat him. He aimed for the neck, a vulnerable spot. But the man still had his weapon, and shot three more rounds into James. It wasn't enough to stop his fury, as James slammed the man's head against the concrete with all his rage, over and over, until he was motionless.

  It was over. But not solely for the thugs.

  James crawled to his wife. “Hang in there, love. Keep your eyes open.”

  “James.... I'm so.... sorry.” She swallowed, inhaling deeply. “Caleb... He-”

  “I know, love. I know. I've always known.” Candace might have had a look of surprise, but she only kept trembling; her eyes displayed the terror of dying. “And I forgive you. I wanted you to be ready to tell me...”

  Candace smiled as she slowly reached up for him, but her strength vanished. Her arm fell, her head dropped, and James heard her breathing fade from slow to still...

  He could still feel the metal in his body. But it didn't matter. His fate would soon be that of his wife's. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head, peacefully allowing himself to leave this world.

  THEIA

  A new mission was about to begin. Marcus was vague on the details. Before being sent to her demise, meal call came first. First, she marked the day, and could hardly believe her eyes. '12/25/12,' it now told her. She hadn't paid attention to the upcoming holiday whatsoever. No point knowing about it anyway, she thought as she stood, proceeding to walk herself to the dining area.

  Before her sat a plate of fish. It smelled more raw than cooked, but even with salt, pepper and seasonings as options, Theia felt no more inclined to eat it. For the first time in her life, it felt wrong to eat it. This fish... she thought. This was once alive. Her mind drifted so far out, she forgot where she was again. Plants are living things too. So are animals, like fish. Something always has to die so that something else can keep living. The fish on her plate seemed no different than the human corpses that drenched the city and produced the stench that nearly made the air like a toxic fume. Everything that's born will die someday.

  Theia pushed her plate forward and looked away, repulsed. On both sides and across the table were kids her age enjoying every bite of their meal. Every one of them looked healthy. They were energetic and happy. Between them there was no shortage of interesting stories and reports of amazing feats they had achieved. “I got chased by a truck. The soldiers were shooting at me, and I had to hide behind this dumpster and I almost got shot. But they never found me because I was too fast. I disappeared like a flash.” You were probably already hiding. I bet you peed your pants when they drove by. She heard another kid brag, “I was walking down the street and this soldier was coming at me. It was totally like in those western movies. We both drew our guns as fast as we could. He was faster, but I had better aim. I shot right sta-raight in the stomach. He never got back up after that.” I bet this didn't even happen at all, not even a little bit.

  The exaggerated stories, whether fictional or partly-fictional, were entertaining in their own way. They distracted Theia from her thoughts – from her misery. At the very least, she had company, which was something to be thankful for. Above all, the subject of their stories made no sense to her. She still
couldn't understand where her peers had developed a universal hatred of American soldiers. Theia had heard stories of nasty things committed by them, but they seemed to be nothing more than rumors. Nothing concrete. Part of her could relate to the feelings, though. She had no problem with police officers until the night she was taken from her mother's arms. Perhaps there was something to how her peers felt about the soldiers taking back the city, but until it became clear, she elected not to think about it.

  Theia permitted herself to pull back the plate and eat the other contents, such as the corn and rice. There were peas on the plate, and though normally she hated the vegetable, she chose to eat them. Better to take what she could get. Looking at the fish, she felt herself wanting to become a vegetarian.

  In her peripheral left, she saw the boy next to her move over as another kid took his place. It was Spencer. Theia could tell, merely by the way he smelled. He had no plate with him. She thought, he better not try to steal my food.

  “Hi, Theia,” the boy said. “I'll eat that fish if you want.”

  Theia finished chewing what was in her mouth before passively pushing the plate toward Spencer, some food she was eating still remaining.

  “You can eat what you want first...”

  Theia made no reply. She couldn't even look at him. So, he wants to be friends now?

  Spencer took the plate and ate the now-cold fish. “It's bass,” he informed her. “Oh wait... I think it's trout, actually. No, it's bass.” His loud chewing and talking with food in his mouth only subtracted further from her desire to speak to him. Once he finished the leftovers, then licked his fingers, he turned to face Theia. “I'm sorry,” he said kindly. Theia felt obligated to look at him, but still refrained. “I was a jerk. Chase was too. I let him be a jerk to you. And then I was... I'm sorry.”

  “Thank you,” Theia responded, almost inaudibly. Even she didn't believe her words were genuine.

  “I just always wanted to be like Chase. He was, you know, older and bigger and smarter. He was my friend for a long time and-”

 

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