The World Without Crows

by Ben Lyle Bedard

  "All right," he said, wiping his face. "All right."

  As they left the room, Eric turned back. Doyle slumped back down on the floor and curled into the corner, without another word.

  As they climbed back up into the church, Eric had never felt so certain that Birdie was gone forever. He was going to have to live with it. This is how life is, he thought. Brad is gone. Sarah is gone. John Martin is gone. Birdie is gone.

  There's nothing you can do about it.

  You have to grow up. Be a man.

  _

  The people in Cairo called themselves the Mustangs.

  They hadn't been in a big group of people since the beginning of the outbreak. Good Prince Billy said they were fifty four of them. They lived in the church and the houses surrounding it. At night they gathered around the church and inside it. A series of floodlights lit the area. In the light, people stood, talking and laughing. There were old men and women, there were babies, innocent of the world that was so recently destroyed. There were sullen teenagers and happy couples. Serious people, whispering. Smiling people, telling tall tales. Quiet people, listening. People ignoring them, people watching them. So many people.

  At first Eric filled with terror. His heart hammered in his chest painfully. He felt like he wanted to run for the shadows, to the comfort of the wooded night. From Lucia and Sergio's wide eyes, he could tell they felt the same. But the grief of Birdie's absence kept him from the full force of his fear. A part of him no longer cared if he lived or died. It was not such a serious thing. Like most of the people he had ever known, some day he too would die. There was no amount of fear that could conquer that fact.

  After Good Prince Billy left them outside the church to talk with a group of people inside, Eric planned on going to the car, to sit inside the silence and breathe easier. But he was surprised by Jim, the man who had confronted him with his rifle earlier. Eric took a step back, expecting anger.

  "Peace hombre," Jim laughed. "I brought this for you and your friends." He handed them a platter of juicy venison. Eric took it thankfully.

  "Thank you," he said. Even the smell of the meat was making him melt inside. He thought he might cry.

  "No problemo," said Jim. "If the Good Prince thinks you're okay, you're okay in my book."

  Forgetting their fear, the three sat outside the church of Good Prince Billy and ate roasted venison until their faces glistened with fat.

  _

  What Eric remembered about that night with the Mustangs:

  --There was an old man whittling on a park bench.

  --A man and woman spent the evening necking behind a tree.

  --At the side of the road, there were two posted guards. Each had on a protective vest. Each had an assault rifle. Each had somber eyes.

  --A small band playing fiddle, guitar, banjo, and flute sang the song “Froggie Went a-Courting,” and “The Mule.” Everyone cheered this part of the song most:

  Oh you'll think you were struck by seven kinds of

  lightning

  If you neglect to follow this golden rule:

  You'd be too much broken up to join the angels

  If you bother ‘round the hind parts of a mule.

  --Two young children, no older than ten, played a game of hide and seek. One ended up crying because something "wasn't fair."

  --Two teenage boys sat on the back of a truck watching the party.

  --A circle of men stood around the fire, talking in turns, throwing wood on the fire.

  --A woman introduced herself to Lucia as Amy. She said they were all welcome. She said Lucia had beautiful hair and Lucia said thank you.

  --A woman came around with bowls of corn, rice, and beans mixed together. When she gave them out, she smiled at them.

  --An argument broke out over the Minutemen, but Eric couldn't hear what was said.

  --Late in the night, four people began a game of horseshoes. A woman named Gretchen won.

  --A truck drove up and a man came out, looking serious. Good Prince Billy went to speak to him. They talked alone in the shadows.

  --There were a group of little girls there, playing with beautiful dolls. Eric trembled just to hear them. "Of course I love you," said one little girl to another. "This is how it is going to be. I'm going to kiss you and then you'll stay here, in my house. Okay?" The other agreed and then the two dolls kissed, a touching of plastic lips under a storm of blonde curls.

  _

  Around midnight, Good Prince Billy led them to their rooms. To make them more comfortable, they would share a smaller room with only a few other people, including Jim.

  "I know you've just come here," she said to them as they stood awkwardly before her, "but I have a feeling about you kids. I won't tell you what to do, we ain't about that around here, but I will say you're all welcome to stay here as long as you like. We need all the help we can get." Billy smiled and her narrow, bright eyes twinkled.

  "Thank you," said Lucia. Sergio and Eric shook hands with the Good Prince.

  When she left them, the group stood in a tight circle, looking at each other. They had been so long only in each other's company, they never noticed how close they had become. They looked at each other shyly, uncertain how to express the realization of each other. Finally Sergio patted him on the shoulder and Lucia squeezed his hand, and they left him for a bunk in the corner.

  Alone in the bottom of his bunk, Eric sank into the incredibly soft bed. After weeks of sleeping on the ground, the bed seemed to be made of clouds and feathers. Rarely had he felt so comfortable or so secure. He trusted these people, much more than he had ever trusted the Slow Society. There was something genuine about them. They had no grand ideas. They only wanted to live.

  Maybe this was where they should stay. He had thought this once back at the Slow Society, but this time it felt more right. What was the island but a dream of security and companionship? Two things he could have here. He would not be in charge. There would be no responsibility. He had failed Birdie miserably, had failed all of them. So many of the people he had met were dead. He was not the person to protect them. Let that responsibility fall on people like Good Prince Billy. She was stronger than he was. The more he thought of it, the more he thought it was the right decision.

  I'm sorry, Birdie, he thought to himself in the slight darkness inside the church. I wish I had been stronger for you, but I wasn't. I'm sorry. Eric closed his eyes and sleep clutched him like a jealous lover.

  _

  Eric woke abruptly when Jim climbed into the bunk above him. He let out an instinctive cry, small and scared, before he could restrain himself.

  "Sorry," Jim said. "I'm being as quiet as I can, amigo."

  Feeling his heartbeat slow, Eric watched Jim's legs swing into the bed above him. Jim's head came next, narrow, pock-marked and red. He looked like a man weathered by the sun and hard labor. Men like him had always scared Eric, made him feel soft, young, and vulnerable. Jim studied him for a few moments, as if trying to guess his weight.

  "So you guys going to be Mustangs or what?" he asked. His head disappeared, but he didn't stop talking. His voice was the loudest whisper Eric had ever heard. "I tell you what," he continued. "You can feel safe with us. The Mustangs are some tough hombres, that's the truth of it. We don't allow no one to come in and tell us what to do. Not only that, but we got the Good Prince and she keeps us straight. You can take that to the bank and cash it."

  There aren’t banks anymore, Eric thought, but said nothing. "Who is she?"

  "Prince Billy?" Jim's head reappeared. "She's our own personal hero. She might look old and all that, but she's as tough as nails. She proved that at Rip Van Winkle."

  "Rip Van Winkle?" Eric encouraged when Jim stopped.

  "That's where we faced down with the Minutemen," he explained. "That'll teach them dirty sons of bitches to come in here with their damn pamphlets and tell us what we ought to do. No one rules over us. We ain't interested in starting up a new country. President Jacobs, my
ass. Didn't no one vote for that son of a bitch."

  Eric was busy thinking about this when Jim continued.

  "You guys are coming from the west, ain't you? Probably haven't heard of them yet, have you? The Minutemen are from Boston," he said. His voice had lost even the pretense of a whisper. "They got a President, calls himself Jacobs. Says they're all that's left of the US government and that everyone ought to join with the Minutemen." He scoffed angrily, like a snorting horse. "Load of bullshit. Buuuullllshiiit," he pronounced slowly. "Ain't nothing left of the US of A. Even if there was, I wouldn't want no part of it. If you ask me, it was them government sons of bitches who were to blame for the Vaca B in the first place. We didn't have no business in Brazil, now did we? We ought to look after us and our own. No," he said soundly. "Them days are over, amigo. From now on, it's us. We don't need no one else."

  "What's Rip Van Winkle?" Eric prodded again.

  "Oh yeah," said Jim. "Lost track of what I was saying." He pulled his head back, and rolled over, so that Eric pictured him talking to the high ceiling. "Rip Van Winkle is a bridge," he continued. "That's where Billy met them Minutemen and made them give back the boy. You see, what them Minutemen do is they go into a town and they just start recruiting. That's what those bastards call kidnapping. Then they bring the ‘recruits’ back to Boston where Jacobs is building the new capital. An army too, I guess, but no one knows for sure. No one who goes to Boston ever comes back. They're pushing east and south. Billy reckons that Jacobs wants to take New York City, and he'll need a hell of an army for that. That city ain't nothing but a burning mess, filled with gangs who're ripping each other to pieces for food. The Minutemen are recruiting as far as Pennsylvania, they say."

  Eric blinked, trying to digest all this information.

  "Well," Jim continued, "the Minutemen fucked with the wrong person. One day this girl comes in crying. She says the Minutemen just up and took this boy away. They were from Warren, not far from here. Billy says to us, if we let them take this boy, they'll be taking us next, so we grab some guns and Billy has us set up on each side of the Rip Van Winkle. When they tried to cross, we ambushed them. It was a quick, dirty little gun fight, but the Minutemen surrendered. Then Billy takes back the boy and tells them sons of bitches how it is. After that we started calling her Good Prince Billy."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know," Jim said. "I think it's a song."

  "Who is she?"

  “Used to be just Mary who worked at the grocery store. Had some trouble with her second husband, that was what most everyone knew of her. After the Vaca B, that all changed. She helped us get things together, take care of ourselves, organize. It was tough as hell, but without her, we would've vanished like a lot of towns round here done. She was just what we needed, I guess. And before the worm came all she did was work at the grocery store. Strange, ain't it?"

  "Yeah," Eric agreed. "Strange."

  Jim's head appeared again. "You know I wouldn't be telling you shit, amigo, but Billy likes you. She says you people are welcome to stay here, and you ought to know what you want to know."

  "Is that why you're sleeping here?"

  Jim rested back in his bed. "Anymore questions?"

  "Not now, no," Eric said.

  "Good, I'm bushed." The bed creaked above him, and then went quiet. It took a few minutes for Eric to realize that the conversation was completely over and Jim was probably asleep.

  Sleep did not come as easily for Eric.

  When he did sleep, he had uneasy dreams. Birdie was emerged in still water, her hands clasped on her chest as if she were in a coffin. Her eyes were closed peacefully, and her hair floated about her head in soft tangles. He wanted to reach her, but he didn't dare touch her dead body. But he couldn't leave her either.

  He just hovered in the water, indecisive, drowning.

  _

  During breakfast, a beautiful meal of bacon, pancakes, and fresh eggs, Lucia slid next to him. Her body was so close to him, he helplessly imagined the silky warmth of her skin.

  "Good morning," she said to him with a smile.

  Eric smiled shyly at her. Now, without the stress of being out there, alone, he saw her again as she was: beautiful, with shining brown eyes and luminous, smooth skin. Her lips were moist and shined. His heart stumbled in his chest like a drunk.

  "Morning," he managed with difficulty.

  "They have a farm," she told him. "Not far from here. They've converted an old brick house into a barn." She smiled widely at him. "I'm going to help with the cows today."

  "Good, that's good," he said. He knew what she wanted.

  "Sergio is already there," she continued. She looked down at her plate. "I have a good feeling about these people. Don't you, Eric?"

  Eric didn't answer. She was asking him to abandon Birdie. To stay here with these people, maybe for the rest of their lives. Maybe she was right. Alone, they were such a disaster. He was thinking of it. It hurt.

  All he could do was shrug.

  _

  It wasn't until after lunch, slices of bread covered with chopped venison, onions, and carrots, that Good Prince Billy came to see him. During the day, she looked even more formidable. Her hair, in tight silver curls, formed a tidy circle around her head, like a crown. Her eyes, narrow and shallow, shined with the same, intelligent energy as it had the night before. Today she walked with the aid of a cane, the handle of which was a deer leg, the cloven hoof bent toward her. When she saw Eric sitting under a tree outside the church, his empty plate in front of him, she came to him. Halfway to him, however, a man intervened.

  "Billy," the man said. "Jenny and Dale are at it again. Jenny says she ain't letting no one work on her place until it's been dealt with."

  "What is it this time?"

  "Jenny says Dale's goats been in her garden. She says he does it on purpose."

  "Goddamit," Billy said. "Them two are worse than badgers. All right, that's it. I'm moving Jenny and her cows to the east side. Get Mack and Bob to help get that place set up, the one we was looking at last week for horses."

  "What about horses?"

  "We'll use Jenny's place."

  "She ain't going to like it."

  "Let me tell her," Billy said.

  "What if she don't want to move?"

  "She'll move," Billy said. When he seemed doubtful, Billy smiled. "You are a young one, ain't you? Them two say it was a mutual break up, but I don't believe it. I'll just let Jenny know that moving away from Dale will prove to him she don't give a damn for him no more. It'll irritate the hell out of Dale. She knows that. Them two ain't done with each other yet."

  "All right, Billy," the man said with a smile, obviously impressed.

  "Damn world is gone, and them two are still bickering like teenagers. Don't nothing really change, remember that." The man nodded at her, still smiling, and left them alone.

  Good Prince Billy, leaning on her cane, sat next to him. She groaned as she sat, and then clasped her hands on her lap and turned to him. "Well," she said. "Where should I start?”

  _

  "I guess you know by now that I'd like you to stay with us," Good Prince Billy began. "I been talking with Sergio and Lucia this morning. Nice folk, them two. I think the both of them are glad to be here. I can see they want to stay here, I can see it in their eyes. I think you can too. But they got an awful respect for you. They won't stay if you leave. I've seen this kind of thing before. There are bonds that, once made, can't be broke. Not love, not hate, not anything will stand between two people who've been brought together by catastrophe and terror. It's a bond even stronger than blood. I know you haven't asked for this. I can see how uncomfortable you sit with yourself. You don't think you're set to be no leader, and I know you never asked for the responsibility, but there it is, Eric, whether or not you like it.

  "I don't know but the best leaders are the ones who never wanted it. Responsibility ought to hurt. It ought to keep you up at night. But like it or not, they follow yo
u. They'll go if you go, but they don't want to.

  "I know you feel like you need to search for this little girl. I respect that. I do. But I want you to understand something. Out there, there is danger. There's the Minutemen coming in from the east, making people awful jumpy around strangers. There's other gangs too. Who knows how many between here and this island of yours? To say nothing of starvation and deprivation. Or Zombies or the cold winter you got waiting for you if you get there. Maybe that's something you can risk for yourself, but how about them two? You going to drag them into it, too?

  "I can promise this to you. If you stay and help us build something here, I'll help you look for Birdie best I know how.”

  Good Prince Billy patted his leg and then raised herself up with another groan. She looked down at him. Before she left, she said:

  "You don't have to say nothing now, honey. You just think on it. I ain't telling you what to do, but I will say that, for my part, I think you ought to stay. I think we're your best shot."

  _

  After Eric ate his meal of pork stew with carrots and turnip, he retreated from Sergio's excited talk of horses and cows. He walked to his bunk and sat alone on his bed. He watched his hands twining and detaching. The Good Prince was right, he knew it, but Birdie would not leave his mind. At the last, he took out her backpack. Eric took out her drawings.