by V. Moody
Nods all round again. I guess it was better than them arguing with me about the rights of monsters to live a peaceful life, eating who they please.
“We’re still weak and our gear is… unreliable. Getting good with weapons doesn’t happen overnight. It takes months, years even. What we need is better teamwork. The way we got all those rabbits in the end wasn’t with our super ninja skills, it was teamwork, right?”
The nods were more enthusiastic. They were onboard with my message of mutual cooperation and positivity. You’re probably thinking, how wonderful. Finally they’re coming together . With the power of friendship these guys have a chance of making it. But then, sometimes what you think is happening, isn’t what’s actually happening.
“We have to trust each other. Rely on each other. We can’t get depressed and all self-doubty because we’re afraid others might not like us. There are no others here. It’s just us, and none of us is perfect. Far from it. Which is why I think we should all just admit our fears, our weaknesses. If everybody already knows what you’re worried they might find out, what have you got to lose? Nothing, right?”
They looked less sure with their nods this time. Their heads bobbed ambiguously, like maybe they were agreeing, maybe they got caught by a breeze.
“I’ll start. I tend to push people away. You might have noticed. I like to reject them before they reject me, because that’s what usually happens, and it doesn’t feel good. So I do it first and I’m much happier that way. Or at least less unhappy. Of course, if someone really wants to be friends with me, they’ll resist when I push them away. No one ever has. So that’s me.”
I looked expectantly at them, letting my gaze pass from one to the next. Nothing. No one spoke or looked like they were going to. I kept going.
“Even you lot, I fully expect you to eventually to go off on your own once you feel a bit more confident. Which is fine, I’ll just go back to being on my own. I’m used to it.”
Still nothing. I wondered how far I’d have to go to get these guys to open up.
Then Claire said, “I have a boyfriend back home.” Everyone stared at her, but she was focused on the fire. “He’s not very nice to me. In fact, he’s a bastard. Tells me I’m ugly, that no one else would have me, makes fun of me in front of his friends.” Her voice started to break up a little. “Sometimes I get upset with him, scream at him, tell him to fuck off. But I always take him back.”
“Why?” I asked her.
She looked at me across the fire. “Because he’s right. And I’d rather be with someone than no one.”
Nobody said anything for a while.
I scratched my chin, the stubble reminding me I hadn’t shaved, or brushed my teeth, or combed my hair in an age. “Claire, I don’t know what will happen to us, but I think I can guarantee that none of us will abandon you because of the way you look.” There were murmurs of agreement from around the fire. “Your personality, maybe, but not your loo—”
I ducked as a stick came hurtling at me.
“Fuck you,” said Claire, but there was laughter in her voice.
“Oh, ah, erm,” began Flossie. “People think of me as happy because ahm always smiling and that. But the truth is people get me to do things for them, and never do anything for me in return.” She laughed. “It’s kind of depressing really. Even my own family. I guess I’m a bit of a doormat.” She laughed again. It was a hollow, joyless laugh. “The nicer I am, the more I do for them, the worse it gets.” She smiled a sad-eyed smile. “I don’t know what else I can do to make them like me.”
Claire put her arm around her and whispered something in Flossie’s ear which brought a slightly more genuine smile to her lips. I turned to Dudley. He immediately looked up at the sky. I was about to move on when he spoke.
“I’ve always been something of a disappointment to my parents. They sent me to the finest schools, bought me everything I could possibly want or need. And yet, I’ve never been able to live up to their expectations. I just don’t have it in me. I try, I really do, but my mind wanders, I lose track and before I know it, I’ve failed again. I hope I don’t let you down too.”
Word of encouragement flew around the fire.
“I’m black,” said Maurice. As revelations go, this one didn’t come as a big shocker. “But I don’t like hip-hop and I consider R&B music to be the work of paedophiles.”
Flossie raised her hand. Nobody had mentioned a Q and A segment, but Maurice gave her a nod.
“Ah like R. Kelly,” she said. “He’s good.”
“There’s no point,” said Maurice. “You’re too old for him.”
“What about the ‘Remix of Ignition’?” said Claire. “I like that tune.”
Flossie agreed.
“Hot and fresh out the kitchen,” threw in Dudley in his incredibly plummy voice.
Maurice looked over at me, somewhat baffled. I shrugged.
“My point,” continued Maurice, “is that other black people have never accepted me. They think I’m trying to be something I’m not. Whereas actually they’re the ones trying to force me to pretend. And of course, white people aren’t keen to have someone on their turf either, so I’m something of an outsider. I mean my parents have tried to reach out to me, but they don’t know how to relate to me. Last Christmas my mother got me... “ He started to choke up. “She got me a Maroon 5 CD.” Pain flashed behind his eyes. “She meant well. She meant well.”
“What kind of music do you like?” I asked him, genuinely curious.
“Oh, Rage Against The Machine, Nine Inch Nails, any quality rock really.”
What the fuck?
“Maurice, before you got transported here, when you were back on Earth, what year was it?”
He pushed his glasses back up his face. “2016. Why?”
“Nothing. Just surprised you listen to those bands.”
“Timeless music is timeless,” he said.
Each to his own, I guess. In any case, I had a better idea of who I was dealing with now. Of course, what I said about myself was utter horseshit. I didn’t reject people because I thought they’d reject me. I could care less. Oh, you’re thinking, poor guy’s in denial. Can’t admit the truth. Maybe, but if I am in denial, then I have no idea I’m kidding myself (that’s why it’s called denial) so either way, it isn’t something I waste time getting worked up about. The only reason I’d said it was to get the ball rolling. Now I knew their insecurities and weaknesses, it would be much easier to manipulate and control them.
Not that I intended to use the knowledge in a malicious way, but if I didn’t get them into some kind of decent fighting force we’d all be dead by the weekend, assuming the concept of weekends existed here. And if it didn’t, I’m sure Maurice would attempt to invent it.
26. Equipment Upgrade
As the others sat around the fire, smiling at each other, talking freely, you could see the bonds forming between them. Loyalty, concern, affection. All beautiful symbols of friendship, and all next to useless.
You might think a party who are willing to die for each other would provide a powerful advantage in a fight. But the aim isn’t to die, it’s to stay alive.
What I needed from them was obedience, focus and an unwavering desire to win. Fat chance of getting those qualities out of this lot.
“Get all our equipment out, I’ll be back in a minute.” If it sounds like I was talking down to them, acting like I was in charge, that’s not how it was. They did as I asked not because I was the leader, but because they had started to trust me. They hadn’t just bonded with each other, they had bonded with me as well. We were in this together. Or at least that’s how they saw it.
I saw it in more practical terms. I had to tell them what to do because otherwise they might start thinking for themselves, and then we’d really be in trouble. I know that probably sounds quite arrogant. With me at the helm, we’d be winners in no time! Stage cleared. Flawless victory. No, I didn’t think that. Our survival chance weren’t good
no matter who gave the orders. I was just the lesser of five evils.
Plus, the truth was I feared the future. The other groups had found a way to progress and we were way behind. Not that turning on my companions would benefit our cause, but I was edgy as fuck and snapping at people was my coping mechanism. Not a good mechanism, just the only one I had.
I went into the shed where Grayson was sitting at the desk, writing in a ledger of some kind. He used a stick of what looked like charcoal to write with. I couldn’t make head or tail of what he was writing, it was in the strange script that looked like squiggles.
He looked up questioningly.
“Is it alright if I take some of this stuff?” I pointed at the box with the last of the clothes in it.
He nodded. “Tomorrow will be the last day here for us. And for you. We’ll be shutting everything up and going back to the city. You’ll be on your own.”
I had forgotten we’d only been promised three days of care. Or, I hadn’t forgotten, but I had put it out of my mind. Now it was front and centre and I only felt worse.
“Do you come here every four years?” I asked him.
“Not me. At least I hope not. Some other poor bastard who’s fallen out of favour with the powers that be.”
So this was considered a shit detail, assigned to whoever had pissed his superiors off the most. Grayson did look the type.
“Who is it you work for, exactly?”
“The National Alliance.” He pointed at the map on the wall. “You remember the four cities I mentioned before? They’re each responsible for their own province, but for larger matters there’s a council, the National Alliance, which has representatives from each city. I act under their purview.”
There were probably many more questions I could have asked about this world, how it was run, who was in charge… but Grayson did not give off a chatty vibe. I felt like I was being a huge imposition just breathing the same air as him.
“By the way, do you know what happened to the other groups?”
Grayson gave a noncommittal shrug. It could have meant he didn’t know, or that he wasn’t going to tell me. Or possibly that his shoulders ached and he wanted to go to bed. It was evening and the soldiers tended to disappear once it got dark. I had no idea where to. There was a lot I didn’t know.
My gaze wandered over to the curtain I had only recently become aware of. I’d have liked to had a look in the alcove behind, see what other hidden treasures might be back there, but I doubted Grayson would allow it. He was already back to his writing as though I wasn’t even there.
I grabbed everything from the clothes box and returned to the courtyard. The others had spread our gear out in front of the fire. A paltry collection.
I handed a woollen tank top, too small for even the girls, to Dudley. “Can you pick that apart? We can use the wool as thread for the needle.” We did have some thread but I already had plans for it. Plus it wouldn’t be good for heavy duty stuff which the wool might. Maybe.
“Can someone thread this needle?” I held up the sewing kit we had bought earlier. Claire took it from me. “By the way, can either of you sew?”
Both girls gave me that look modern girls like to throw around when you say something that could be perceived as sexist. The one that says, “What do I look like? Your mother?” Which is hugely unreasonable, since my mother is also a modern girl and totally useless when it comes to household stuff.
“I’m just asking, a simple yes or no would do.”
Claire shook her head but Flossie said, “Little bit.”
“Okay, great.” I handed the rest of the clothes to Maurice. “Can you cut these into strips? We can sew them to the sacks to make them easier to carry. The rest we can wrap around some sticks to make torches. We’ll probably need light in a dark place at some point.”
I went over to the woodpile and selected a few suitable sticks for the torches, and also retrieved the collection of junk I’d got from the smithy that I’d stashed there. I didn’t think they would get stolen, I hid them so no one would mistake them for trash and throw them away. Now that we had needle and thread I could attempt making a sap by sewing the bits of metal inside a piece of leather.
If this were a movie, we’d be putting all this stuff together in a montage with cool music over it. The heroes prepare for action. In real life it probably looked more like we were sorting out the recycling for the bin men.
27. Shrek 2
I had a plan. Wait until it gets late and Grayson and his boys go off to wherever they went to at night, then ransack the shed for every secret hidden behind the curtain and in the desk drawers. Excellent plan, I think we can all agree.
Unfortunately, the moment I put my head down to give my eyes a rest, I was out like a light. Whether my body was getting used to being in this place or I was just knackered, the next thing I knew, it was morning.
We were woken by Grayson banging a spoon on a dish (I knew the bastard had spoons hidden somewhere!).
“Good morning,” he boomed cheerfully. “Looks like it’s going to be another beautiful day. Sunshine and fresh air aplenty.”
We groggily got up, faces squishy and eyes glued shut. The fire was out and it looked like the last two days of constant fear and anxiety had wiped us all out.
“Now, I do want to remind those of you left, I and my men will be leaving today. You’ll need somewhere else to sleep, and you’ll have to take care of your other needs yourself from now on. However, we won’t set off until after dark, so if you do have anything you need to ask, you’ve got until then.”
I got the impression he would have liked to have left earlier, but he was delaying the departure to give us every opportunity to do… something. Ask a question, hand in a token, claim a prize—I didn’t know what it was we were supposed to do, I just knew we were supposed to do something which most likely the other groups had already done.
“Do you have anything you want to ask me now?” He looked at each of us in turn.
Nobody said anything. We were all still half asleep, but I’m not sure that was the problem. I could sense this was more or less our last chance, but my brain refused to offer up any ideas.
“Okay then. Good luck.” The way he said it made it sound like he knew we’d be needing it. He turned around and went back inside.
I felt pretty scuzzy. I hadn’t had a proper wash in days and my clothes needed cleaning. There was a hand pump in the corner of the courtyard that provided our water, but we didn’t have soap or towels, plus we were too shy to undress in front of each other. You also needed someone to work the pump for you so you could use both hands.
All stuff we should be able to work out between us, but hadn’t.
Not knowing when we’d be able to find a decent water supply again, I stripped down to my rank-smelling boxers and asked Maurice to pump the water for me. He agreed, of course, making it seem completely stupid I hadn’t just asked on day one.
The water was freezing cold. I got down on all fours and stuck my head under the spigot to wash my hair and as much of my body as I could. I wasn’t about to stick my hand down my shorts and give things a good scrub with all the people around (although God knows I needed to) but getting everything wet helped with the smell at least.
I operated the pump for Maurice, although he didn’t have anything on under his onesie, so he had to go nude. The girls had tactfully disappeared into the shed, making it less embarrassing, but we still took great care not to make eye contact, or any other kind of contact.
Yes, we were those guys. The ones who can’t handle communal showers and can’t piss at a urinal if someone’s standing next to us. I realise it’s retarded, but we’d each had a couple of decades of feeling shit about ourselves, we weren’t going to undo all of it overnight.
Dudley was the tallest and had the most difficulty getting low enough to wash properly, but he did the best he could by splashing water over himself. We used the blankets as makeshift towels and patted ourselves dry.
Once dressed, and only slightly damp, we went into the shed where the girls were eating the fruit provided us for breakfast. While we ate, the girls went off to wash themselves, a tacit understanding between us that we wouldn’t enter the courtyard until they were done.
Grayson was at his desk doing more paperwork, so I couldn’t have a look behind the curtain unless I rushed past him and yanked it open. Which I totally could have done—it wasn’t like he’d kill me for it—but I couldn’t make myself do it. I just stood there, sweaty with indecision.
After we’d washed and eaten, we put all our gear in the sacks which now had straps on them so you could carry them like backpacks. One had the blankets in it, the other had metal dishes and the homemade torches. It had taken us ages to get everything ready, the sewing being particularly difficult and painful. Flossie had done most of it, but I had stitched together a very poorly constructed sap and my fingers still stung from the effort. You really had to force the needle through the leather.
