by Meg Elison
“Clinical pathologist. More of a lab guy than a sawbones. But yes, a doctor.”
“Wow. He must have been smart.”
“He was. He is. If he’s still alive, he is.”
“How did you guys lose each other?”
“I got sick. When I got better, he was gone. He probably thought I would die. I thought I was dying. I don’t blame him for taking off. I hope he made it to somewhere better.”
“Don’t you think of finding him? Don’t you miss him?”
“Of course I miss him!” She said it a little too sharply. She softened. “I miss him a lot. I miss a lot of people. I had to leave the city, and there’s almost no way to find anyone. I don’t know how I would even begin to try. What we have now is living, and a way to keep on living. That’s it.”
“We have more than that. We have the future. Like my son.”
He’s talking to himself. Repeating his catechism. Not my job to confirm him. Still.
She couldn’t look at him. “I really hope you do. For both of you. I really want this birth to go smoothly and the baby to be ok. But you have to be prepared for the possibility that it won’t.”
“Have you delivered a baby since . . .”
“Not since the hospital, no. But I heard from a woman who did. It wasn’t a good day.”
Honus did not ask for details.
Dusty got up and went to a counter on the other side and brought back a couple of Cokes.
“So how did you know you wanted to marry Jodi?”
Honus grinned. “She was just so cute. She was always hanging around, going to my games. I knew she liked me.”
Dusty tried not to sound disappointed. “So, do you guys have much in common?”
“Dusty, I know what you’re getting at. My dad asked me the same question. Jodi is very childlike. She’s simple. But she’s really kind and sweet. And she’ll make a great mother.”
Dusty nodded and drank her Coke.
“Did you ever want to marry Jack?”
She shook her head. “We weren’t big fans of the institution. I found it oppressive. He found it archaic. Plus, so many of our friends couldn’t get married until the laws changed that for a long time it just felt like a farce.”
“Oh. Oh. But don’t you want to have kids?”
Dusty shrugged. “I caught kids for a living. I got the miracle of life on a daily basis. That was enough.”
“But it’s not the same as having kids of your own,” he protested.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Do you ever want to have kids?”
She looked at him levelly. He did not intend to be cruel. No one who presses this question does; it’s just something they desperately need to nail down about you. To know, and put you down as normal or abnormal.
He waited.
“Let’s wait and see how Jodi’s birth goes. Let’s see if anyone survives childbirth ever again. Ok?”
Honus looked at his lap. After a while, he spoke again.
“Is your name really Dusty?”
That surprised her.
“You told the ward that your name was Dusty because you were pretending to be a man. But Dusty can be a girl’s name. I just . . . I don’t think it’s your real name. Am I right?”
“No. Yes, I mean, you’re right. Dusty’s not my name.”
“So what is your name?”
She felt it again, that same tug of meaning, of power attached to her real name. She could give him another fake, but that would only complicate things with Jodi. She looked at him and felt drawn in, felt the ghost of their bodies pressed together on the ride into town.
“Dusty is fine for now.”
He smiled. “I bet I can guess it.”
“I bet you can’t. Help me cut open this gate.”
They dusted the crumbs off their hands, and she showed him the bookstore that had locked down.
They searched for bolt cutters but didn’t find them. He was sorry; she was disappointed. They lay down in their huge beanbags to sleep.
They pulled their bags close, but not close enough to touch.
“Dusty?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you miss most?”
She thought for a minute. “People or stuff?”
“People are the obvious answer. What stuff do you miss?”
“The Internet. I was a junkie. The sound of traffic. The feeling of safety. What do you miss?”
“Ice cream. I want to find an ice cream maker. Also my mom’s dryer, with warm soft clothes to put on. Jodi does her best, but . . .”
“Yeah, it’s not the same. You know what I’ve been thinking about?”
“What?”
“In a few years, we’ll use up all the gas. And the coffee. And the pineapple and chocolate and coconut and all the other shit we brought in from other countries. I’ll probably never eat a banana again.”
“Jeez, no bananas.” He sounded mournful.
“Yeah. I’m gonna miss that.”
“Baby-food bananas are pretty good. You guys will have to raid it. Might as well give the kid a taste of the lost world before it’s gone forever.”
Honus didn’t say any more. Dusty reached out, but her fingers found nothing. They slept.
Out in the lost world were hundreds of soldiers who had been sent abroad before the end of it all and could not be brought home. In the wilds of Afghanistan and the ancient cities of Iraq, they were making their way. At bases in Europe, they were holding their ground against the locals only by firepower. When that ran out, they would be taken. Peace corps kids in Africa realized they could not swim home, would never see home again. Tourists all over Asia, the Caribbean, stranded in airports, forgotten in consulates, lived long enough to face the terror of permanence in strange lands. Cruise ships drifted full of plague dead, a few unlucky souls left alive on some.
Choices made in the final months and weeks of the lost world determined where so many would be marooned. Unfamiliar surroundings contributed to the body count, and the number of people on Earth got smaller and smaller.
In the morning, they tackled the snowmobile again. They got it righted and brought the gas in so they could drive it out the door. It was a newer model than Honus’s, with all the bells and whistles that the store wanted to show off. Dusty thought she’d have to get used to it, but that it would probably be pretty fun after that.
They had found everything they wanted and more before noon. They sat and ate jerky and salty snacks and dried fruit, sitting on their beanbags.
“So, can I ask you something kind of personal?”
“Sure,” Honus said. His face was like an open book.
“Why aren’t you and Jodi sharing a bedroom?”
“Oh, that.” He reddened. “I was wanting to ask you about that anyway. Jodi thinks that us being . . . together might hurt the baby.”
“Oh, is that all? I can tell her that it won’t. It’s totally ok.”
“Ok, that might help. But still . . .”
“Still what?”
“Jodi’s . . . she’s not very . . . she’s never really . . . enjoyed . . .” Honus’s face was nearly purple.
“She’s not into sex? It’s ok, Honus. I’ve been a nurse for a long time, mostly in women’s health. There might be an issue that makes it painful for her. Or maybe she’s just shy about it because of her upbringing.”
“The church teaches us that it’s a beautiful, sacred part of marriage and it brings us closer even as it brings us children. I don’t think it’s that.”
“Ok,” Dusty said doubtfully. “Does she complain that it’s painful?”
“No, not since the first couple of times. I was really gentle, but . . .” He trailed off.
“Right. And since then?”
“She says she just doesn’t feel anything. She’s not very . . . enthusiastic.”
Dusty could see that his embarrassment about this was going to be the main barrier to understanding.
“Have you two tri
ed changing positions, or trying . . . alternate sex acts?”
“Like what?”
She took a deep breath. “Have you tried stimulating your wife orally? Or with your fingers? Women’s orgasms are very different from men’s. Do you know how she masturbates?”
“Oh, she’s never done that.”
“Don’t be too sure.”
“No, I asked her. I wanted to know how I could . . . you know, make her happy. She said she had no idea, because she had never had one before.”
“So maybe you should offer to help her.” Dusty felt a small smile starting at the corners of her lips. His face read that this was all very naughty, very far past the line of propriety.
“I . . . I already kind of suggested that. She was pretty grossed out. I don’t know if it’s just the pregnancy, but . . . yeah. She’s just not interested.”
“Well, she might just not have much of a sex drive. That happens sometimes, and it’s normal. But I think it’s more likely that she just hasn’t discovered what turns her on. You might have to seduce her.”
“What? How do I seduce her? She’s already my wife.”
“Lots of foreplay, lots of touching. Deep kissing. Nipple play. If she’s not comfortable with you touching her clitoris, maybe you could find a small battery-powered vibrator. Now there’s an endangered species. But it might be enough to get her started. There’s a store upstairs that has them.”
He got up suddenly, thrashing his way out of the huge beanbag.
“You ok?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He walked out of the store and stood on the concourse awhile. When he turned to walk away, she saw the outline of his erection by the dim light of day.
Clinically, she diagnosed it as long celibacy coupled with talking more explicitly about sex than he probably ever had before. In the part of her that was not clinical, she clenched up and throbbed for just a second, everything hot and aching inside her.
Winter in the Mall
Can barely stand them. Either one of them. Honus = almost interesting. Right on the edge. Sometimes I can get a whole conversation with him, like tonight. Mostly = goofy about his wife and such an optimist I could vomit. Jodi = so dumb I can hardly stand it. If she wasn’t pregnant, I’d have dropped her ass off back in Huntsville by now.
But my dreams = fucking them both. Hasn’t been that long. But fuck. FUCK.
Going to get my own vibrator before we leave.
They drove back on separate snowmobiles, and Dusty was relieved. She got used to it pretty quickly and found that it was capable of terrifying speeds. They stopped at a house near theirs, and Honus dropped off one of his bags there.
“To surprise Jodi later. If I bring it in the house, I’ll totally give it to her now.”
Dusty smiled.
They arrived back home, and Jodi had hot soup waiting for them. She was anxious and worried, but they told her the trip had been fine.
Winter, every day is exactly the same
Tension = ridiculous. Pretty sure Honus feels it, too, but Jodi doesn’t have a clue. Every time she’s out of earshot, we’re talking about sex. How to touch her, how to talk to her, how to turn her on. He says he’s not jacking off because it’s wrong, but I doubt it. Think I’m doing a good job of hiding it, but I’m down. As down as I’ve ever been. Shit. Trauma, loss, assault, afraid for my life, and yet. Compulsion to fuck is so strong in our species. In all circumstances, always. Remember what it was like when I was with my first girlfriend in college. Was head over heels wanting to fuck her all the time. We barely went to class until we both flunked that anatomy test. Ironic. This feels like that. Stir-crazy inevitable come-and-fuck-me crazies. Probably crazy for nothing.
Not Jack, not Jack, no one is. Hope you’re out there, hope you made it. Somewhere. Never find you, never find me, find me. This is not that.
In the time before time ran out, everyone at UCSF who wasn’t sick had been taken by medevac helicopter to the airport and then flown to a CDC-FEMA camp established at a base in the Ozark Mountains. Dr. John Eberhard (Jack to everyone but his mother) was among them. He showed no sign of fever. He had to be sedated. He would not leave his lab voluntarily. He awoke as the plane landed bumpily in Missouri. They replaced his equipment. They did not replace her. For days he worked at convincing himself that she was dead. She must be dead. There were four women in the camp. Fifty-five men. No children. He was the only medical professional who had been evacuated from the West Coast. Everyone he met was from the South, a few from New York.
They worked together with the samples that the CDC provided them. Quarantine was absolute. In a month, they isolated it. They knew its DNA and thought they knew its origin. They developed a vaccine, and a FEMA crew flew it into St. Louis to find infected persons on whom to test it. The crew did not return.
Jack intentionally infected himself without telling a soul. He did not develop symptoms. He confessed his breach to Dr. Austin Calhoun, a man from Atlanta who had seen three daughters into death. Calhoun nodded without judgment. He later did the same. Both men were immune.
It was nearly summer before they found an infected young girl in St. Louis. She was pregnant. She would not speak. They took every possible precaution and administered the vaccine. When she died, they took the baby by C-section. A small girl, born gray. DOA. They debated whether the two of them had already been too far gone before the test began. They debated whether the vaccine had killed them. Mother and child were autopsied, and no conclusions could be agreed upon.
The day after he sliced the infant’s brain to be pressed between glass, Jack calmly administered a fatal overdose of morphine to himself.
His last thought was that to die in such peace in a world like this was the most privileged and selfish act he had ever committed.
CHAPTER 9
The Book of Honus Obermeyer
Containing the Story of the First Hive
As Scribed by the Unnamed Midwife
Day 53
We’ve been with Amanda in her hive, as she calls is, for two days. They caught us that night on the roof and brought us here. They forced us to drink strong drink, and then there was dancing with strange drum music. I was so frightened. I broke the word of wisdom. I was stripped nude and force-fed more alcohol. I was given a pipe to smoke, and I smoked it. I think it was marijuana. It smelled like the kids I knew were trouble in high school. The feeling of it seemed to go on for days and days. I lost track of time. I forgot who I was. I woke up sick and with my mouth dry and my head pounding. I thought I would die, but I did not.
Amanda is a tall, beautiful girl. She has long blond hair and bright-green eyes. She wears clothing that barely exists, like bikini underwear and see-through dresses. I can always see her breasts. I try to look away. She doesn’t speak to us. She speaks to all the men as though they were one person. There are about twenty men here. They are all on drugs. Most of them have tattoos. I don’t know what this place is, but there are no windows and there are four or five stages in the room. Maybe it’s some kind of theater. They barely eat food, preferring to drink and smoke. Langdon is in a haze constantly. I tried to leave and drag him out with me, but a group of the men stopped me. They were making this terrible noise. I’m terrified.
Day 54
I was called in to speak with Amanda in private. She made me kneel in front of her as she lay naked on a couch. I tried not to look, but it was such a trial. She asked me where we were from. I couldn’t think of any reason not to tell her the truth, so I did. She seemed very happy that we were LDS. She said we would be her “prettiest boys.” I showed her my ring and told her I was married right away.
She said that all the other girls had died and she was all that was left. I told her not my girl. She got up and told me to sit on her couch. She traded me places and knelt in front of me, her breasts against my inner thighs. I fought temptation, I struggled like Jacob struggled with the angel. She tried to unzip my pants, but I stopped her. I told her no.
She said she was the queen of the hive and she needed more drones to bring her honey. Nothing about that made sense to me, but I didn’t want her. I wanted to go home.
She seemed to go blank then. She had been all sweet talk and seduction until the moment I said no, then she went totally blank like she had no feelings at all. She told me to get out and send in the other one. I asked her if she meant Elder Langdon. She laughed a little and showed me a tiny blue pill with a dolphin stamped on it. I shook my head, and she put it in her own mouth. I walked out of the room, and the guards were already pushing Langdon through the door.
I waited in the main stage room with the other men. They were all drinking alcohol or taking drugs. It seemed like that was what they did all day. Some of them were dancing on the stages using the poles. They all seemed to be naked or on their way there. Some of them were having sex with one another. I’ve never imagined anything like that in my life, even on those occasions when I was tempted to view pornography and gave in. I didn’t know where to look. I thought I might be able to get away while they were all distracted, but then Amanda burst out of her room into their midst. She held Langdon’s hand. He was naked.
She said something like, “Drones! Today a new bee joins your number!” They all hooted and clapped, and some of them buzzed. I tried to get Langdon to look me in the eye, but he was obviously high as a kite.
I asked him if he had taken the dolphin from her.
“I am the dolphin,” he told me.
Amanda led him to the largest central stage and told him today was his day. She laid him down and straddled him, and I tried to run away then, but I couldn’t believe this freaking abomination was really happening. Every man in the room rushed the stage, and I could see them reaching for her with their dicks out, trying to jam them anywhere near her. They became an inhuman pile of the most disgusting sex I can imagine.
I started to back away when one of them grabbed me. It all happened so fast that I barely understood what was happening. He wrestled me to the floor, trying to kiss the back of my neck. I could feel his erection against me, and I just panicked. He was so rough and out of control, and I tried to pull away, but he just kept on. I tried to turn around and push him off me. I ended up elbowing him straight in the eye. I kicked him hard once he was off me. My heart was hammering and I couldn’t even see straight.
