Mega Post-Apocalyptic Double Bill

by Mark Gillespie

Eda jerked a lazy thumb over her shoulder.

  “Back there?” she asked. “In the fighting?”

  Number 64 nodded. “Most of them are dead or dying,” he said. “It was a massacre back there. There were no winners.”

  “How’d you get away?” Eda said.

  “I ran,” the boy said. He looked irritated by the question and shifted restlessly on his feet. “I’m a coward, okay? I ran away before any of those women could butcher me like they did my dad.”

  Eda lowered the sword, very slowly. “Sounds like the smart move to me,” she said. “That’s what I would have done.”

  Number 64 stared at her. There was a long silence, like he was waiting for the punch line.

  “You mean it?”

  “Sure,” Eda said. “It’s kind of stupid dying when you don’t have to. Right?”

  Number 64 brushed a clump of sweaty hair off his forehead. In turn, he wiped the damp hand off his camouflage pants.

  “Yeah.”

  “Where are you going now?” Eda asked.

  The boy hesitated. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” he said, lowering his voice. “All of this, living in the Meadows and hiding away from the world – I’m done with it. I’m finished with Uncle Sam and with Baldilocks.”

  “You’re done with Uncle Sam?” Eda said. “Is that what you mean? He won’t be too pleased about that, will he?”

  “My father worshipped Uncle Sam,” Number 64 said. “I don’t. Where was Uncle Sam today when my old man needed him? Huh? Where was Baldilocks for that matter? To hell with it. I just want to get out of here and start afresh. Uncle Sam won’t miss me.”

  Eda pointed the sword north.

  “Are you going to the Two Bridges Road?” she asked.

  Number 64 nodded. “Yeah. Of course, where else?”

  Eda’s heart was racing. As long as she could trust the boy, this was the way out of Great Piece Meadows that she’d been looking for. This was it. She’d earned a break for God’s sake, and here it was.

  So why did she feel lousy?

  Her thoughts were never far from Becky. That tortured face, the one that would never see the Boston skyline, was a constant companion. Eda knew that she’d have to live with it for the rest of her life. Awake and in dreams. And not just the face, but the knowledge that she’d left Becky to die in that terrible situation. That was a shadow that would follow her through darkness. And it was something she could never fix.

  “The other woman,” Eda said, staring hard at Number 64, “the one I ran with.”

  “Bank Manager,” Number 64 said.

  “Her name was Becky,” Eda snapped. “Don’t call her Bank Manager.

  “Sorry.”

  “Did you see her back there?”

  Number 64 nodded. “I saw her.”

  An icy chill ran down Eda’s spine. “And?”

  “The warriors got there first,” he said. His matter of fact tone disgusted Eda. “Man, they did some terrible…”

  Eda held up a hand. But it was the fierceness of her eyes that told the boy to shut up.

  Fortunately he took the hint.

  “It’s not right,” Number 64 said, looking at his feet. “What goes on in here. I’ve always known it. A lot of people know it I think but after the war, everyone is so scared of what’s out there that they just take it. Not me, not anymore. I’m leaving.”

  “Why don’t the others leave?” Eda said. “If they know it’s wrong.”

  Number 64 shrugged lazily. “Baldilocks always says the same thing – this year might be the last year. It’s nearly over and yet it never is. In the meantime, people are safe.”

  Eda was only half-listening to the boy.

  “I’ll show you how to get to the road,” Number 64 said. “That’s what you want right? As long as you let me go I’ll take you wherever you want. What do you say?”

  Number 64 glanced at Frankie Boy, his eyes expanding with terror. “Well?”

  But Eda couldn’t answer.

  “We’d better get moving,” Number 64 said, looking towards the murky sky. “Daylight’s wasted, you know. We’ve still got a lot of ground to cover and it gets dark real quick in here.”

  “Wait a minute,” Eda said, shaking her head.

  “What for?” Number 64 said, sounding impatient. “Do you want to get out of here or not?”

  Eda couldn’t believe what she was thinking.

  “Where is he?” she said. “Where’s Baldilocks right now?”

  “He’s back at the crater,” Number 64 said. He was edging backwards, eager to get moving. “He’s waiting for the Children to bring you and the Bank Manager back so he can finish the ceremony. There’s no way he’ll leave until Uncle Sam gets what he wants.”

  “All those Children he sent to bring me back are dead,” Eda said. “Except you. Right?”

  “Yeah,” Number 64 said in a quiet voice. “So?”

  “Your dad’s dead,” Eda said. “And all Baldilocks cares about is the ceremony. What’s that about huh?”

  The boy looked like a ghost – like he was about to throw up.

  “How many people are with him at the crater?” Eda said. “How many of those fuckers are still alive?”

  “About twenty,” Number 64 said. “Or thirty maybe, I’ve lost track. We’re almost wiped out you know, wiped out in a single day. It’s unbelievable. We’re done.”

  “They’re not done until he is,” Eda said, speaking through clenched teeth.

  The boy took a step backwards, like she’d verbally shoved him.

  “You want to kill Baldilocks?”

  Eda heard the words spoken out loud. Kill Baldilocks. The same thing she’d been thinking moments earlier. When Number 64 said it, it sounded so real.

  “He’s been using you all this time,” Eda said. “Listen to me – I know someone just like him back in New York. She uses people for selfish reasons too. People like her and Baldilocks, they’re taking advantage of people’s fears, twisting them so tight that people lose sight of the truth. I couldn’t do much about it in New York, but maybe I can do something this time around. With your help.”

  Number 64 looked at Eda with child-like fascination, as if she was someone from another planet.

  “You know these hunting grounds,” Eda said, gesturing to their wild surroundings with the sword. “You know them like the back of your hand, right?”

  The boy looked warily at Frankie Boy. The dog was sitting nearby, blocking off the nearest exit.

  “Can you get me back there without being seen?” Eda said.

  “Back where?” Number 64 said.

  “To the crater. To Baldilocks.”

  “Oh c’mon,” Number 64 said. His pink cheeks were sizzling hot. “You don’t really want to go all the way back to Fairfield do you? Are you crazy? Think about what you’re saying lady. We’re almost out of here. We’re not that far from the Two Bridges Road. That’s where I’m going.”

  “Not until you’ve helped me do what I have to do.”

  Number 64 stared at the sword in Eda’s hand. “Help you kill him?”

  “Don’t overthink it,” Eda said. “Just listen. I’m your prisoner and you’re taking me back to the crater to finish the ceremony. If you play by that script, we’re good. But if you pull any tricks I’ll tell Frankie Boy to rip your throat out. And you know just by the way he’s looking at you that he wants to do it, don’t you? His appetite is legendary. All I need to do is give the word.”

  Number 64 clasped his hands together.

  “Don’t do this,” he said. “Going back there, it’s suicide. If we run now we’ll be out of here by…”

  “C’mon,” Eda said, shouting over his desperate pleas. She turned around and faced the direction she’d been running away from. “Let’s get moving.”

  “I can’t do this,” Number 64 said.

  But Eda couldn’t see him. He was a weak voice from behind, begging for reason.

  “You can,” Eda said, waiting for the boy to c
atch up and start leading the way back to camp. “And you will. Won’t he Frankie Boy?”

  13

  The boy stuck to his word.

  Perhaps he was scared about what Frankie Boy would do to him if he misbehaved. Or maybe, and Eda thought this the more likely scenario, he was a decent kid at heart. Despite being brainwashed from birth, Number 64 seemed to possess an inherent sense of right and wrong. And just maybe, he knew a twisted mess when he saw one.

  He led the way back through the swamp. They were traveling south now, moving at a steady pace. Two Bridges Road was fading into the distance behind them. But Eda let all thoughts of the road go, a new vision having replaced the one that had fueled her so far.

  She marched a few paces behind Number 64, staying close but not too close. Eda was drawing on the last of her energy reserves, but she had to keep a little something behind for the crater.

  “You know where you are?” she asked the boy.

  “Of course,” he said.

  They pushed through a vast expanse of overgrown land. Trees, grass, mud – no matter how far they went the swamp remained a colossal net of repetition. Number 64 escorted his two companions off the beaten track where there were fewer clearings. The wildness and hostility of nature was amplified here. Bigger. Fortunately however, there were no markings on the trees, which meant no traps.

  They made it back to the Children’s camp in good time. As soon as they arrived, Eda hurried over to the empty cabin where her backpack was stored. She found the bag and brought it back to the communal table where she proceeded to help herself to whatever food she could find, tossing it into the backpack for later. She picked up one of the large jugs and topped up her water bottle. As far as supplies went it wasn’t much but it was enough to get started. Enough to get far away from Great Piece Meadows.

  As Eda took care of practical concerns, Number 64 was kneeling beside the dead boy. Wiping a tear off his cheek, Number 64 reached out and closed the boy’s eyes gently.

  “Ready?” Eda said, walking over. She was aware of her insensitivity, but there was no time for grief, at least not now.

  Number 64 slowly rose to his feet. The weight of the world sat on his shoulders.

  He looked at Eda and nodded. His eyes then drifted over to one of the little wooden cabins. There was a pale, haunted expression on his face. Eda turned to see what he was looking at and she saw his number hanging off the door. There was another number there too. Number 14.

  “We’d better get going,” Eda said in a quiet voice.

  “Yeah,” Number 64 said. “And I don’t ever want to come back here.”

  He led her to the riverbank where only two canoes remained upturned on the grass. The others were gone, probably drifting downriver. It didn’t matter – they only needed one to carry them back to Fairfield.

  Number 64 pushed one of the boats into the water. He grabbed a paddle and jumped in, as did Eda and Frankie Boy. Eda sat on the wooden bench, trying to ignore the doubts settling into her mind. What the hell was she thinking? What if Number 64 tried to tip her into the water? Did he know she couldn’t swim? She glanced over at him. There was no contempt in his eyes. He didn’t look fearful or bitter that Eda was forcing him to do something against his will. If anything he looked empty. Like a machine, simply obeying orders. And if he was plotting something, he was keeping it well hidden.

  The canoe traveled down the Passaic River. East towards Fairfield.

  Eda hoped this was her last time on the water. The near-drowning incident was fresh in her mind and she could still taste the rotten Passaic on her lips.

  The voyage to the crater was somber. Only the squawking birds that flew over the boat made any noise. On occasion, Eda closed her eyes and drifted off a little, not quite sleeping but landing somewhere in between that and wakefulness. In this trance-like state she saw Becky’s mangled limb caught in the steel trap. She saw the blood. She heard Becky groaning as Eda pulled on the broken lever over and over again. And yet no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn’t release the trap.

  Eda opened her eyes and saw only the river. Felt the boat skimming gently across the surface. She’d left her there for God’s sake. Frightened and alone. How could she have done that? Why hadn’t Eda at least offered to…finish it? At the very least she could have spared Becky further pain and…

  No.

  She couldn’t. And thank God, Becky had never asked it of her either.

  When the boat reached Fairfield, Eda disembarked quickly. With sword in hand, she strode forward with a renewed sense of purpose. There were no doubts about turning back from the Two Bridges Road anymore. She was supposed to be here. Righting wrongs, hoping it would fill the hole inside.

  Number 64 struggled to keep up with Eda’s rapid pace. Together they hurried through the wall of trees that led towards the winding road.

  As they got closer to the road, Eda heard Number 64 lagging behind. She stopped and turned around to check on him. There it was – the conflict brewing in his blue eyes. Now that he was closer to the sacred site, it was like he realized what was going on. What was really going on. The inner voice of his former self had to be causing resistance. Here he was, helping this woman, this stranger, to kill his false god.

  “Are you okay?” Eda asked.

  Number 64 licked his lips and winced, like he’d tasted something bitter. He nodded slowly.

  “Are you really going to…?”

  “I’m going to do the right thing,” Eda said, moving closer to him. Frankie Boy stood in between, watching this quiet interaction with interest. “But I need you to help me. Okay? If this is going to work, if we’re going to stop all these people dying then we’re going to have to trust each other. Think you can do that?”

  Number 64 swallowed. “I think so.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” Eda said. She reached out and her fingers wrapped around his skinny, pale wrist like a set of handcuffs. “Do you really want to get out of here?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Getting out,” Eda said, “really getting out means taking care of Baldilocks once and for all. This is his doing – all of this is his doing.”

  He nodded.

  Eda took a step back. She flipped the katana around, offering the elegantly wrapped hilt to Number 64.

  “Take it,” she said. “I’m your prisoner. You’re going to walk me down there to him and you’re going to have the blade pointing at my neck. Alright?”

  Number 64’s pink face looked like it had been freshly slapped.

  “What?” he said. “I mean, yeah okay.”

  “Listen out for my signal,” Eda said. “You’ll know it when it comes and when you hear it, release me. I’ll take care of the rest, I promise.”

  She lowered her voice.

  “No tricks,” Eda said. “Frankie Boy’s coming down there with us. As far as the rest of the Children are concerned, the dog isn’t loyal to anyone. But we know different, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I trust you Number 64,” Eda said, “but if you betray that trust, if you try to hand me over to them for real, I’ll give the word and Frankie Boy will rip your face off. And when that’s done, I’ll dress you up in this suit and throw you down to Uncle Sam. You can be President of the United States today.”

  “No tricks,” Number 64 said, taking the sword. “But what if it doesn’t work? Baldilocks is a lot of things but he isn’t stupid you know.”

  “Then we’re both dead,” Eda said. “Alright?”

  “Oh Jesus.” Number 64 wiped the sweat off his forehead. Eda thought it was a miracle the kid had any fluid left to perspire. If he kept going like that, he’d shrivel up and turn into a pink raisin.

  “C’mon let’s go,” Eda said.

  They approached the winding road with the metal barriers. Peering towards the crater in the distance, Eda saw what was left of the Children. Thirty people at most, maybe less.

  Baldilocks, with the Uncle Sam mask pulled up over his head, was
deep in conversation with Number 10. They stood apart from the others, about twenty feet from the crater rim. Number 10, like the rest of the Children, was still dressed in a long gray robe. She held the dog skull mask in her hands, jostling it anxiously back and forth. Some of the others, like Baldilocks, had their mask sitting atop their heads. It looked very much like a half-time interval and that these people were waiting for the second part of the show to begin.

  They had no idea most of their people were dead. Baldilocks had been too confident in the ability of the Children he’d sent after the warriors. He’d been too confident in numerical superiority. As a result, he’d left the coast clear for the one person in Great Piece Meadows who wanted him dead to return.

  Number 64 was blowing hard.

  “It’s okay,” Eda said. “Breathe slowly, in and out.” She pointed to the sword in his hand and then gently pulled the tip of the blade towards her throat.

  “Stand up,” she whispered. “We’re doing this.”

  They straightened up slowly together, like to hurry was a sin. With Frankie Boy at their side, Eda and Number 64 began to walk towards the crater.

  “Make it convincing,” Eda whispered.

  Number 64 didn’t say a word.

  The Children saw them when they reached the top of the hill. From afar, Eda heard a cluster of excited voices. These individual fragments came together to form a loud murmur of approval that drifted high above Uncle Sam’s crater.

  “They’re going to love you for this,” Eda said.

  Most of the Children rushed forward to greet the boy and his prisoner. Eda walked downhill into a pack of eager, rejoicing faces. Praise was heaped upon Number 64. They would treat him like a hero, Eda knew that. She only hoped the acclaim wouldn’t go to his head.

  Number 64 kept the blade tight against Eda’s throat. Eda tilted her head back as far as she could, knowing that Lex kept her katana razor sharp at all times. It didn’t help that the boy’s hands were shaking.

  “I’ve got her,” Number 64 said, as the crowd gathered around him. “I’ve got the President of the United States.”

  Eda’s heart was pounding. She didn’t know if the newfound confidence in Number 64’s voice was sincere or not. Had he been playing her for a fool all this time, pretending to be a nervous kid?