Beauty and Dread

by Nicki Huntsman Smith

  Steven smiled, then switched the ongoing speech to a mental back burner while he mulled his own.

  The next names to be called were the twins, even more well-liked in the town after the cannibal rescue, but not a serious threat. They were too young and lacked the maturity necessary for the job. In a few years, he might have to worry about them, though. They were good, smart boys. When Bobby finished with a bawdy joke, Steven knew their popularity couldn’t save them.

  He held his breath for the next name to be called, then released it. Isabel was intelligent and compelling, but also abrasive. Her overt feminist message fell on many receptive ears, but she had missed the mark. Gender mattered little these days when life and death were on the line daily. And while he agreed that their future society should not be gender-biased, it was more important right now to keep everyone’s bellies full.

  As it turned out, he and Calvin – the forerunners – would be speaking next to last and last. Suspicious to some, perhaps, but the fishbowl nor its contents had been rigged by him in any way.

  That was confirmed when Marilyn called his name next. He shot a covert glance at his rival, seeing only benevolence on the preacher’s face.

  He approached the table with what he hoped was a calm demeanor and a smile plastered on his face, even though it felt like a grimace. He was more nervous than he ever remembered being in his life. Tung had told him he was a natural speaker...good at getting people to do what he wanted. While that had been a revelation to him at the time, in hindsight he knew it was true.

  But in the public speaking arena, Steven was outgunned by the man whose speech would follow his. He had to be flawless.

  “Good evening, everyone. The smoke-free lighting for this evening’s meeting is brought to you by the Hunter Gatherers and their recent score of high-quality paraffin oil. Great job, guys.” Steven made eye contact with Pablo in the second row. On the right of the young man sat a recently married husband and wife from Nebraska, the replacements for Missy and Zane.

  “Thanks to Pablo and his people, and Lisa and her gardeners, we’re eating better than we have in months.” Steven sought the blond ponytail in the audience, acknowledging her with a nod. She sat next to her beau Ed, who had been working minor miracles with his construction team. Many residents now had fencing around their gardens that would dissuade all but the most persistent deer. A few had requested smaller versions of the huge community greenhouse, and he had been tireless in assisting them. Ed and his people had also installed a second well next to the hospital, saving the backs of the medical staff from hauling water for blocks.

  “I’d like to take a few minutes to thank everyone for all their hard work. Ed and his crew for helping everyone get their fencing put up and the million other projects they’ve been working on. Cate and her staff for keeping us healthy. Frank for working out the kinks with our waste and sanitation. Dani and her group for making sure we’re safe.” He found the girl sitting next to her boyfriend in the last row. Her face was a careful mask of indifference. She ignored his acknowledgement, but Sam’s smile was an acceptable proxy. “Marilyn and her excellent distribution system at the commissary. My sister and her work with those who are struggling with some emotional and psychological issues.” Julia sat on the opposite side of the room from Dani. Her pale, unsmiling face didn’t convey much support for his cause. Logan was beside her, having just finished his shift on the eastern barricade.

  “We couldn’t have come as far as we have without everyone working hard, working smart, and most importantly, cooperating. Think about where we were just a few months ago. We were fragmented. Some of us were starving, many were ill. But we came together as an organized society. We assessed our strengths then utilized them. Discovered our weaknesses, and shored them up. This ability to function as a whole, like a hundred cogs on a wheel...each one as important as the next, is why we’ve achieved what we have. I wonder how many societies out there have come close to accomplishing what we have. It’s quite remarkable. But does that mean we can rest on our laurels? Of course not. I have big plans. Plans to expand our current agricultural endeavors to include grain crops and orchards, and plans to build an electrical grid for our town. Think about that. Not only will we eat better...grains for bread and fruit for cobblers, but we’ll be able to enjoy them in our brightly-lit kitchens.” This was his trump card. He was the only person in town – perhaps even the state – who had the expertise to get the power back on.

  “You all know that I’m a stickler for detail. I call it being anal-retentive; others might call it being a jerk. But that sort of attention to detail is what’s required in this job. Without it, stuff falls through the cracks, and a little problem becomes a huge problem very quickly. As a mechanical engineer, I’m uniquely qualified to see these tiny fissures and recognize them for the crevasses they might become. It’s what I did for almost two decades before Chicxulub, and what I’ve continued to do these past months as unofficial mayor. That fact alone is a reason to elect me. But another is this: Liberty is my home. It has been my home since I was born in the hospital right down the road. Our family has roots here, although that may not seem like a big deal to some.” He chose wording that wouldn’t offend Liberty’s transplants who would be voting too. “I realize that we’re an amalgamation of local folks and nonlocal folks. Texans, Nebraskans, Arizonans, even a Californian. But this land is in my blood; always has been, always will be. I know what the weather is like here, I know the properties of the soil and water, I know the indigenous flora and fauna, which are safe and which are harmful. Kansas is in my blood. Engineering is in my blood too, whether it’s constructing windmills or putting the pieces of civilization back together.

  “Elect me and let me continue the progress we’ve been enjoying these past months. I promise I will not let you down.”

  Thunderous applause filled the room. Steven smiled. It was a damn good speech.

  When the clamor quieted, Marilyn drew the last folded paper from the bowl and called out the name; a superfluous gesture but a necessary one.

  The town’s religious leader patted Steven on the back as he passed. Steven sat down in his previous spot, resisting the urge to chew a fingernail.

  Calvin allowed a few moments for the audience to go silent.

  He wore the same immaculate white shirt as he did on Sunday mornings behind the church’s lectern. Thick, dark hair had been brushed back from the wide brow. Golden lantern light reflected off the angles of the etched, clean-shaven jawline.

  Steven hated the man more at that moment than ever before.

  “Friends, there’s not one thing about that speech I can refute. Steven has done a great job. He has a wealth of knowledge. He knows the area. I believe he has the interest of everyone in this room at heart. I won’t waste your time trying to one-up him. I’m no politician, after all. I’m just a preacher.”

  The southern accent seemed less pronounced. Perhaps intentionally so, to appeal to the Midwesterners.

  “Every single thing he said is true. That’s why he’s a valuable asset to our town. He might be the most important asset we have, in terms of keeping us alive and reasonably comfortable. And he will continue to be a valuable asset, no matter which way this election goes.”

  With one sentence, the man had blunted the entire thrust of Steven’s speech: Steven didn’t have to be mayor for the town to benefit from his intellect and expertise. His stomach lurched.

  “But when it comes to leading men and women on their journey through these times, we must shift focus. Let’s put aside the nuts and bolts of the material world and think about the bigger picture. What if the plague wasn’t a natural event? What if our Heavenly Father brought it about as a way of testing those who remain? It’s a wonderful thought, isn’t it? All our loved ones already up in heaven, enjoying the purest form of love and happiness there is, while watching the show that we’re putting on down here. With all my heart, this is what I believe to be true.” He paused, letting the words si
nk in.

  “I’ve heard about the Hays incident, and while I know a few people were saved from a bad situation, it was not justification to commit murder.”

  A significant number of Liberty’s residents nodded in agreement. Steven clenched his teeth against the acid that was building in his belly.

  “And I weep when I think about our loved ones and our Heavenly Father seeing that carnage from above and knowing it was a choice...a conscious decision to take human lives. I worry that no matter how much we might pray for forgiveness, it might not be enough.

  “As your spiritual counselor, I can only do so much. I can recommend, I can advise, I can comfort. But I can’t legislate. I can’t make the tough decisions that a leader, who is profoundly concerned for your immortal soul, should make. If I’d been here during that time, I would have done everything within my power to stop it. I know many of you feel the same way, since the majority vote not to intervene was ignored by those conducting the raid.”

  Steven gripped the bench below his knees, willing himself not to jump up and defend his actions.

  “But I can assure you, that as your mayor, my decisions will be influenced by what our Lord would have us do. Because this span of years we call a lifetime is but a tiny drop in the ocean of our immortal, spiritual sojourn. It isn’t something to survive; it’s a brief interval, during which we must prove our worth. We must show God that we are deserving of His blessings, deserving of His love. Vote for me and we’ll make this journey together. A pilgrimage of sorts, safeguarding each other while traveling this treacherous path toward the glory of our afterlife in heaven.”

  Sweat glistening on the handsome face reflected the lamplight, creating an almost otherworldly effect – a glowing messenger of God in their midst. Steven studied the enthralled expression of many in the crowd.

  When he listened to the explosion of applause that was louder than that for his own speech, he had the gut-wrenching realization that he would likely lose the election.

  ###

  “Everyone can come back in now,” Marilyn shouted over the din of chatter and movement. “We’ve tallied the votes. Please, everyone get seated and we’ll make the announcement.” She stood with four others at a long folding table near the judge’s bench – the voting station. Five surrogates had been chosen, one by each of the candidates, to help count and oversee the results. Marilyn had been Steven’s choice; Natalie had been Calvin’s. Pablo, the representative for the Kennedy brothers, held a piece of notebook paper in his hand.

  “The sooner you all settle down, the sooner we can get this finished and get home to our beds,” Pablo said, raising his voice to be heard. Finally the residents of Liberty – well over a hundred people now – found seats on the crowded benches and waited with an air of excited anticipation.

  “The results of the vote for Mayor of Liberty are as follows: Isabel Fioretti, seven votes.”

  Steven turned his head to see the woman’s frown from where she sat behind him. She was not pleased but also not surprised.

  “Billy Ray Davis, four votes.” Four was also the number of people in the fuel crew, including Billy Ray himself. Steven gave the man beside him a respectful nod.

  “Bobby and Jack Kennedy, seventeen votes.” A spattering of applause broke out, punctuated by a few shrill whistles; the twins were popular with the younger segment of Liberty’s population.

  Pablo paused before continuing, glancing up at the crowded room full of people who hadn’t experienced this much excitement in a long time.

  “Calvin Whitfield...forty-three votes.”

  He had barely gotten the last word out before it was greeted with a vigorous round of applause. A few whoops echoed off the walls of the building.

  Steven was doing the math in his head. If every single person in the courtroom voted, he knew the precise number of votes he needed to win. A wave of nausea washed over him.

  “Steven Berkstrom,” Pablo smiled again before reading the number, targeting Steven’s face among those of the other candidates. “Also forty-three votes. Folks, we have ourselves a tie. What’s it going to be, gentlemen? A run-off election or a co-mayorship?”

  ###

  “Look, Steven, I’m not going to, as you so eloquently phrased it, fuck with what you’ve accomplished in this town.” The preacher sat four feet away in an office down the corridor from the courtroom, where everyone was awaiting their decision. “I think you have formed an erroneous opinion of me, and I don’t know how I earned it, nor what I can do to fix it. But I believe that together we can do amazing things. Why take a chance on a run-off election which you very well may lose?”

  The southern accent was back, all stretched-taffy vowels and languishing consonants; Steven could almost feel the breeze from an antebellum fan and taste sweet tea on his lips. The man had dialed it down for the sake of the Midwesterners during his speech. A clever tactic, and another reason not to trust him.

  “Or I very well might win,” Steven replied, “then wouldn’t be forced into this diminished role. Do you actually believe the two of us can agree on a damn thing? Our views of the situation...hell, our views on everything...are as polarized as they could possibly be.”

  “But we both want what’s best for the people. ‘What’s best’ is of course the sticking point. But I believe that two people who are similarly motivated will be able to come together in the end. I’m concerned for their immortal souls, you’re concerned for their corporeal existence. These two things are not mutually exclusive...at least they don’t have to be. Let’s give it a shot. One year. Let’s see what monumental things we can accomplish together.”

  Steven almost believed the man meant what he was saying. Hell, maybe on some level, he did. The best liars bought some of their own bullshit.

  But Steven knew better. He imagined dozens of scenarios that ended in disagreement, frustration, and no progress. The question was whether to take a chance with a run-off election, then watch their town turn into some goddamned theocracy if he lost. The alternative was to work with the preacher.

  He locked eyes with the man who sat across from him. He saw keen intelligence there and a surprising lack of self-satisfaction in the tranquil smile. The man was either a sociopathic liar or a religious zealot.

  Whatever he was, Steven couldn’t risk letting him have all the power in Liberty.

  Chapter 27

  “What happens if you don’t agree on something? Who gets to make the final decision?”

  Natalie looked beautiful, as usual. She wore a thin nightgown and was keenly aware of how fetching she was as she posed on the bed she had been sharing with Calvin for several weeks now. There were frown lines between her eyebrows that had become more pronounced in the last year. Botox injections and other vanity indulgences were no longer an option. But she knew she was still the most attractive female in Liberty over the age of thirty.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. As I explained to Steven, we both want what’s best for the town and its citizens. And while I suspect compromises will have to be made, perhaps there will be less butting of heads than everyone thinks,” Calvin said, drinking in the sight of his new ‘wife,’ proclaimed as such moments before their first coupling. This made everything they did in bed acceptable in the eyes of the Lord.

  “That sounds watered down to me. Not at all what we discussed.”

  “It is His will. We’ll make it work. Now slide that nightie down so I can see those magnificent breasts.”

  Natalie smiled. When she saw desire in a man’s eyes, she knew she was in control.

  “It seems to me His will would have been to make you sole mayor. Then we...you...could do what you want.”

  “Who are we to question our Lord?” he replied as he began kissing her slender neck, then worked his way down.

  Just as every other man she had ever known, he was obsessed with her breasts and fixated on her vagina. With her beautiful face as the perfect bait, she was a walking man trap. She realized
at fourteen that these physical attributes gave her power, and she began using them to her advantage soon after she had gotten her first period.

  “You’re His representative here on earth. He should want you in a position to do the most good,” she said, navigating through the religious rhetoric.

  “That’s why I got forty-three votes, my dear. I’m in a vastly more improved position today than I was yesterday. All our hard work has paid off. Oh, these are delightful, but off they go!” he said, tugging her lace panties down her legs and off her feet.

  “Yes, darling. Certainly it’s an improvement. But I think we can do better, don’t you?”

  “All in good time.” A moan escaped his lips as he parted the silky thighs, then paused to soak in the erotic splendor before him. “You are superb...a testament to His handiwork. Something tells me you know this already,” he murmured into her ear as his fingers entered her. “Oh, you’re ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  She had taken a few minutes in the bathroom to prepare herself. Calvin was handsome, but she still carried a torch for Steven. It was a fact that vexed her daily, especially when she had to watch him carrying on with one of the least beautiful women in town. Before Chicxulub, she knew he was married, as was she, and rumor had it he was hopelessly in love with his wife. The few sexual overtures she attempted had ended in ego-bruising failure, confirming his fidelity. Then the plague happened, and Steven became more than just an obsession; he was a meal ticket. She had handled the situation badly though, and there would be no going back. She would have to make do with the man who was grunting and grinding away on top of her.