“This is my wife Kate, daughters Poe and Harper, and my son Gabriel.” His family each waved awkwardly, and though Kate’s smile seemed kind, it didn’t extinguish the uneasy feeling in Drew’s heart. “Now that you’ve met my family, it’s time for us to meet yours. Please form into family groups.”
Everyone in Drew’s group looked at each other. Vera whispered in his ear. “Why does he want to divide us?”
He wished he could extinguish the concern in his wife’s eyes, but he knew Vera: nothing but the truth would do. So, like so many times before, he elected to avoid the question. “Just do what he says for right now.”
Vera nodded and stood arm and arm with Drew. She was rigid, and Drew tried to hold her tighter for reassurance, but he was unsure if it was for her sake or his own. As Blake and her son stood on the other side, Connor’s voice rang through the crowd. “Oh no dear, you and your son stand alone.”
“They’re our family,” Drew said. “They’re with us.”
Connor grinned. “Drew Matthews, do you really think I’ve forgotten everything about you? I definitely haven’t been gone long enough for you to have a child as old as this beautiful girl here. You two never did have children… such as shame.” Drew’s face flushed, knowing that Connor drew pleasure from something that caused both he and Vera a deep, unending pain. He walked toward Blake. Standing barely a foot in front of her, he brushed her cheek. “You’re John Turner’s daughter, dear, not his. I remember many of you quite clearly.” He turned to Drew. “I can appreciate the sentimentality and all, but for our purposes today, we will be divided by blood and blood only.”
“No.” Drew stepped between him and Blake.
Connor inhaled to speak, but Blake pushed between them. She looked Drew in the eyes. “It’s okay, really. We’ll stand over there.” She took Jackson’s hand and separated into her own unit, standing between the Matthews and the Melone brothers. Drew tried to ignore the visible shaking in Blake’s limbs.
“See now, that wasn’t so hard. Your dear friend’s daughter is apparently much more cooperative than you ever were. A much better listener too.” Connor sauntered into the middle of the clusters of people, who had inadvertently formed a circle. He folded his hands behind his back casually, far too casually for the announcement he was about to make. “Now, I’m sure you all realize we only have limited resources here. As much as we would love to adopt you all, we simply can’t. It’s just not feasible…basic mathematics and such.” He paused, letting his words sink in.
Drew and Vera looked at each other.
“So sorry.”
Drew watched as Connor silently stared at each face in the crowd once again, taking the time to watch the realization seep into all their minds that not everyone was going to get to stay, and those who didn’t were going to be sent back out into a diseased world, probably facing certain death. Anger bubbled inside him when he realized that Connor was enjoying it: the fear, the panic. Each trembling hand made him stand just a little bit taller.
It made Drew sick.
“It’s true,” Kate said. “Taking you all…condemns everyone. We just can’t support a group this large. Our food supplies would dwindle down to nothing before we could grow more.” Her eyes were wet. “Truly, we’re so sorry. But our children have to come first…we’re sorry.” Though she said we, it was obvious to Drew that her husband did not share her pain in his heart over what had to be done.
“How will we ever decide though?” Connor’s head whipped around, as if he honestly expected someone to answer his disgusting question. “Anyone?”
Kate spoke again, her expression hardening as she watched her husband. “Connor, stop this.” She turned to the crowd again, pleading for the understanding that she had to know would never come. “We’re only doing what we must to survive. No more, no less.”
Drew shuddered. If even his wife could see he was enjoying what he was putting them through, there’s no telling what they were in for once they got inside the house: if they were even chosen. His heart raced, and there was a strange tingling in his fingertips.
“All right, all right. I already know the way,” Connor said.
Drew glanced over at Poe. She was watching her father, a smile of pride stretched across her face. It appeared she had inherited his sadistic side as well as his propensity for survival. He turned his gaze to Connor’s other children. Harper’s expression was vacant, impossible to read whether she didn’t understand the horror that she was witnessing or just didn’t care. Gabriel, however, seemed to be looking past all of them and into the woods at their backs, unable to look anyone in the eye. The pride in Poe’s eyes was completely absent in those of his son. Drew remembered them when they were young, the little ones who used to love picking out stickers from the prize bin at his office. Those innocent faces had long since gone.
“Everyone here contributes to the household: my son’s the mechanic, my wife and daughter hunt, and Poe and I grow our food, among other things.” His eyes fell on Drew’s. “How will you all contribute? I want each group to tell me why they should be let in. Of course we won’t separate families, but be sure to tell us why yours would be an asset. All come in, or all don’t.” He paused, smiling. “This is where you get points for being useful human beings.”
He started at the opposite end of the group from where Drew was, which happened to be Tonya and George. Though George stood in front of his wife, he seemed to be cowering under the weight of Connor’s stare. His eyes stayed level with the ground as he spoke. “I’m a pharmacist. I brought lots of medicine with us. Everything I could find.” Tonya handed him the bag that he had shown Drew earlier. He threw it open and thrust it toward Connor. It crossed Drew’s mind that he may just snatch the bag and kick them out immediately, but that didn’t seem to be Connor’s style. He wanted to drag out the decision, make people squirm for as long as he could. “Right here. Lots of it.” Connor stepped toward him and started digging through the bag, picking up one bottle at a time, examining the names as if he knew what each of them meant.
Perhaps he did.
“Interesting…go on.”
George stuttered and gestured toward his wife, who remained behind him. “She’s an architect. She can build anything. Could help you fortify your place against intruders. And I know my medicine. I can help take care of everybody. I know what you can mix with what.” Tonya attempted to nod pleasantly, but her chin trembled.
Connor looked him over from head to toe, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Very good.”
He started to walk away, when George burst out, “Do we get to stay?”
His head whipped back toward George. “We will see.”
The next groups that Connor approached stuttered their way through their sales pitches. Drew hated to think of it that way, but that was exactly what it was: they were selling themselves to the man with the power, trying to prove that their lives were worth saving more than those of their peers. Connor was attempting to do God’s job, and trying to do God’s work always ended badly for the person trying to do it. Unfortunately, it usually ended badly for other people too.
The firefighter seemed to sell himself very well, citing his years in the field, and mentioning some of his hardest won battles. Drew couldn’t see any reason why Connor wouldn’t pick him to stay, thinking that a firefighter would be perhaps one of the most useful people to have around in a post-apocalyptic situation. They couldn’t exactly call 911 if something happened, and Drew guessed Connor, despite his skills, would be no match for a flame-covered building. To handle a situation like that required years of experience, something that Connor couldn’t pick up by reading a book.
Though the firefighter did well, the salesman seemed to become a quivering mess of the person he was before they arrived. His voice shook; even his wife looked horrified as she listened, knowing that her husband may be signing their death warrant with his stuttering mouth and quaking stance. Drew almost stepped in to try and save him. Except when he opened
his mouth, he looked at Vera and Blake, and found himself closing it again.
When Connor got to the Melone brothers, they unzipped their duffel bags full of weapons: knives of every size and shape, guns found in every decade from the 1920s and beyond. Some looked as though they belonged in a mob movie, others on alien space ships. He took one out and examined it, twirling it around in his hands. “You know how to use these?” Both brothers nodded. “Harper, come here.” The girl who had fired at them from the safety of the trees sauntered toward her father, confidence dripping off of her like too much perfume. He handed her the gun. “What do you think?”
She conducted her own examination, ending with her pointing it directly at the older Melone brother’s head. Drew watched as Darius tried to appear unshaken, though Drew knew it had to be impossible for him to be as calm as he appeared. She squinted with one eye as she gazed down the barrel, as if she was about to fire. Darius’s eyes grew wide, but she handed it back to her father. “Looks good, Dad.”
“Do you have ammo with these?” Connor asked.
The brothers nodded.
“Excellent.”
Next came Blake and Jackson. Drew’s mouth went dry as Connor knelt down to face Jackson at eye-level. “What’s your name?”
The little boy smiled, having no idea what was at stake, and how drastically their lives could change in the next few minutes. Drew was glad he didn’t understand. Even before the pandemic, Blake had done an excellent job of keeping Jackson innocent in a society that seemed all-too-eager to take childhood away and replace it with ugly acts and uglier people. Every time he saw Jackson playing with his trucks and building castles in his sandbox, hope filled his heart that maybe, just maybe, he would make it until he was at least a double-digit age before he became tainted by the world. As he looked at Connor’s face, he saw that dream float away with the breeze. “Jackson. I’m four.” He held out four fingers.
Connor smiled back. “Impressive! You’re practically a man now.”
Drew watched as Blake gently pushed Jackson behind her and away from Connor. Connor noticed and quickly rose to stare in Blake’s eyes, a sneer across his face. “And what can you contribute?”
“I—”
“She’s an EMT! She can help me.” Drew quickly interrupted her. He could feel Vera staring at him, but refused to meet her eyes. Blake’s degree in cosmetology would have eliminated her from getting to go inside the compound in an instant. For a moment, Connor continued to stare at her, studying her. Drew held his breath. He looked around at the other groups. Only a couple people knew that he was lying, and he prayed that they would keep their mouths shut.
They did. Drew couldn’t help but wonder if it was because their hearts were truly that big, or if the rest of them still didn’t understand that they were fighting for their place inside the house. Perhaps it hadn’t hit them yet that if Blake made it in, someone else didn’t. Or maybe it meant that even in a survival situation, people could hold on to their humanity enough to do whatever they could to make sure a child lived, even if it meant possibly giving up on themselves.
The seconds stretched long, but finally Connor came over to Drew and Vera, the last candidates. He came so close that Drew could feel his breath on his face. “I know what you are. Great to see you again, especially under these circumstances.” Connor briefly broke eye contact. “Word is you still call yourself a doctor. Even after…” He turned to Vera. “And what are you?”
“Psychiatrist,” she whispered.
A maniacal laugh burst from Connor’s mouth. “Of course you are! He screws people up physically while you play around in their heads.” He looked back at Drew, his lips pursed as he hissed through clenched teeth. The calm façade had slipped away and the maniac had stepped into its place. “I should eliminate you right now. You’re a miserable excuse for a man.”
Panic swept through Drew in a wave. If Connor’s grudge against him got his family killed he would never forgive himself. He had to stay strong, and act quickly. His eyes hardened; he was sure Connor could see fear, and Drew was not about to give him the satisfaction. He pushed it down deep inside himself, so all Connor could see was a man who knew his abilities, and who knew that the compound needed him as much as he needed the compound. “Tell me, do you know what to do if someone has a seizure out here?” Connor stood silently. “I do. What if one of your daughters gets a high fever? Don’t tell me you just plan on setting a cold washcloth on her forehead and hoping it goes away.” He stepped forward, forcing Connor to back up. “I may be a joke to you, but I’m going to be the one to save someone’s life up here, not you. All your guns and fences and carrots won’t help you if you stop breathing.”
To Drew’s surprise, Connor started clapping. His face changed from a crazy person to a child who had just opened a birthday present. “Well done! Sold! I tell you, sir, I’m impressed. You had me convinced that your cowardice knew no bounds, but some fighting spirit has appeared before my eyes!” As sudden as Connor’s outburst was, he grew silent just as quickly. He crept toward him and whispered, “Sold.” As he backed up toward the center of the circle, he repeated himself so the rest of the group could here. “Sold! Please stand over there next to Poe.” Drew quickly took Vera’s hand and pulled her toward the spot that Connor directed them toward. As they approached, Poe glared at them. He blocked Vera’s view so that she couldn’t see. Drew had always wondered if Connor had shared what had happened between them to his children. Apparently he had his answer.
“All right all, I’ve come to a decision. Are you ready?”
Drew watched as Kate draped her arms around Harper and Gabriel, like she also had something to lose. As he watched her husband basking in the misery of others, soaking up the agony in their faces, he wondered if maybe she did.
“Melone brothers, take your weapons and go join the good doctor. Only a couple more spots. Hmmm…”
He looked around, dragging out his decision as long as possible, even though Drew had a suspicion that he had known from the second he saw them who he would pick and who he wouldn’t. “George and Tonya, go join them. So sorry for the rest of you. Be safe now.”
Blake’s face went white as she looked at Drew, both realizing at the same time that her name was not called. Drew looked away from her for a second to see Kate with her hands over her mouth. He hoped she would speak, but the shock of her husband’s decision seemed to have overtaken her. “No, please! My son! You can’t do this!”
Connor feigned a pained expression. His eyes were empty. “Sorry sweetheart, there’s no room. Now please get going.”
Drew ran toward him. “I need her! I need help! I can’t keep your family safe by myself.” Connor rolled his eyes and started back inside. Drew grabbed him and turned him around. “Please! She needs to stay! What about her child?”
“She didn’t make the cut. All or nothing. Sorry.”
The rest of those who didn’t get picked lingered at the edges of the entry, hoping that Connor would change his mind. The fireman seemed to be looking for the right words, the ones that would save his life after his sales pitch had failed him, while the salesman stood there sobbing so hard he seemed barely able to catch his breath, leaning into his wife to keep from collapsing toward the ground. As Connor drew a gun from the back of his jeans, Drew started toward him, Vera close behind. He blocked her from a potential bullet as he stood in front of Connor. “You are now all officially trespassing! Get out of here before I shoot you where you stand.” He watched as everyone who was not picked frantically hurried down the hill, dragging the packs filled with all they had from their homes close behind.
Keeping his wife behind him, Drew demanded, “Take Blake and Jackson instead of me. Let them take my place.”
Connor laughed, louder than the buzz of the frantic crowd before him. “Suddenly concerned about a child, Drew? How odd…”
Vera frantically grabbed Drew’s arm, gripping it with all her strength. “No! Please no!”
Blak
e was close behind her, trying desperately to keep her voice steady and calm, but failing. Jackson cried at her feet. “No let him stay please. Just take my son. Just him. Let him stay with Vera and Drew.”
Jackson wrapped his arms around his mother’s leg. “No mommy! I want to stay with you! Please don’t leave me here! I want to stay with you!”
Kate finally came back into herself and approached her husband. “Connor, really, let the child and his mother stay. You can’t send him out there. Please, he won’t make it. She’s a waif of a girl; neither will require much food at all. It will be fine if they stay.” There was a desperation in her voice, the kind that Drew hoped would convince a husband who loved his wife to do the right thing. But from the smirk on Connor’s face, he knew he was too far gone.
“Did our children matter to them? Any of them?” He gestured to the entire group, both the condemned and the saved. “All of them knew what happened. People talk. Yet they all stood by and did nothing. No one helped us make things right. No one. Those who stand by and do nothing are just as guilty as the ones who hurt them, the ones who beat them down over and over again until there was nothing left. Now I’m supposed to care about their children?”
Kate stood silently. It appeared she knew she had lost, or maybe, just maybe, a part of her thought Connor was right after all. Regardless, she didn’t utter another word.
For some reason that Drew didn’t understand, Poe had left her place in line and was heading toward her father too, joining the swarm of people pleading their case. She kept looking over at Blake. “Dad please—”
Collecting himself, he cut her off, continuing his conversation with Drew. “Sorry, Doc, you did too good of a job convincing me that we need you. You stay.”
Drew felt sick, but he knew what he had to do. He would hate himself forever, but he knew. For Blake to stay, someone else had to go. He felt his own soul slipping away, but, unlike what Connor claimed everyone had done to his family, he would not stand by and do nothing. Connor had whittled people’s lives down to basic math: more people than spots at the house. And if he couldn’t volunteer himself to go, he had to make sure it was someone else. He used the only piece of information he had to make up the perfect lie, a lie that he knew would potentially make him a murderer. He knew you don’t always have to fire a gun to kill another human being: sometimes your words are enough. “George has a drug problem. That’s why he has all those. He had been keeping a stockpile long before the pandemic hit. You can’t afford to have someone like that here.” George was almost inside when Gabriel grabbed him and dragged him toward his father. He pushed him forward, standing between George and the safety of the house.
The Ocean in the Fire Page 7
