The Enoch Pill

by Matthew William

  The first of the crates floated into view and slowly made their way towards the city.

  The large circular door in the city wall rolled open. The powerful machinery rumbled beneath Diego’s feet. Seeing the crates flow into the city made him feel calm. There was probably about five thousand of them out there and one by one they were floating in. He probably didn’t even need to come in today.

  “That’s not good,” said Henry, perking up. His voice sounded anxious.

  “What’s not good?” asked Diego. He scanned the sky.

  “No,” yelled Henry. He pounded his fist on the metal wall. “That is definitely not good at all.”

  “What’s not good?” Diego asked, looking in the direction Henry was looking. He squinted and saw right by the forest a crate had turned sideways in one of the canals. It was jamming up hundreds of other crates.

  “We’ve got to get them loose,” said Henry looking at Diego. “I’m sorry.”

  “It can’t be my turn can it?” asked Diego. He felt a gear crank in his gut.

  “It’s you,” said Henry. “Milo went last time. The time before that was Lawrence.”

  Diego felt sick as he remembered what had happened to Lawrence. The crows had grabbed him as he was unblocking a crate and they flew him high up into the air and dropped him. He landed on his neck and died instantly. It was the first time they had ever attacked someone. Something had gone wrong with them. Now they were thirsty for blood.

  “These clothes aren’t made for running,” Diego said. He lifted his leather shoes to show Henry.

  “You’re skinnier and faster than all the rest of us, no matter what clothes you’re wearing,” said Henry. “You’ve got to do it Diego. You want somebody out there with you?”

  “No, they’ll just slow me down.”

  “I hate to do this to you kid, but you know you’re the fastest one here.”

  “If I had known what I know now – I would have lost that stupid race on purpose,” Diego mumbled. He left the heavy, awkward EMP rifle leaning against the wall. It was too cumbersome to run with. He took off his leather jacket and tossed it to Henry.

  All the men on the wall looked at him with guilty eyes. They knew this could be the last time they saw him alive. Milo tried to hug him, but Diego pushed him away.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. He tried to look cool. Inside he was a wreck. He remembered Lawrence’s limp body as they carried him back through the canal door.

  He climbed down the ladder and walked towards the opening with jitters crawling through his whole body. His guts were in knots. This was his last day. His last day. All he had to do was survive this. Just this one last thing, and then he would be out of there. Out and free. He shook his legs and arms and tried to envision where the jammed crates were. All the guys began to grumble up on the wall.

  “Anything I should know?” Diego asked.

  “The birds are coming,” shouted Henry. “If you hurry you’ll make it.”

  Diego bolted through the large opening. The air outside the walls felt fresher on his face.

  The massive murder swarmed high up in the air above the forest. His stomach went sour when he saw them, but he kept on running. They were headed for the jammed crates.

  The terrain was uphill so it made the going hard, and his lungs began to burn. Diego kept up the pace. He was getting closer to the forest now, following a small dirt path. The crows were circling in the air above him. He sprinted around the corner. He would unblock the...

  A mutant was standing there.

  It stopped Diego dead in his tracks. He reached for a rifle that wasn’t there. His throat went dry. She looked like hell. Her face was dirtied and bloodied. She must’ve been attacked by the crows on the way here. Too bad they hadn’t finished the job.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I’m nobody,” she said.

  Diego didn’t know what to say. “Then what are you doing here? You can’t be here.”

  “I’m coming to the city,” she said. She had an unearthly calm about her. “I want to see the Banshee concert.”

  “You just can’t come into the city. You’ll get shot.”

  She shrugged. Above them the crows were cawing as they descended.

  “You can do what you want,” Diego said. “I’m just trying to save your life. You need to hide or get out of here or something.”

  “I’m going to the city,” she said and tried to walk past him.

  He grabbed her arm. “Are you stupid?”

  She ripped her arm away.

  “If you insist on getting shot,” said Diego, “Why don’t you help me unjam these crates first.”

  The mutant just looked at him, then at the boxes, then at the crows that were descending upon them.

  “You could sneak me in,” she said. “In one of the crates,” Without waiting for a response she ran to the woods and grabbed a large tree branch.

  Diego didn’t stop to think. He ran and took another thick stick. They ran to the crate that blocked all the rest. It had been turned sideways and was jammed against the stone canal wall. The girl rammed her stick against the wood and began to pry it loose.

  The large black crows were landing all around them. Some grabbed hold of Diego’s hair and shoulders and began to pull him backwards away from the canal. They did the same to the mutant. Other crows landed on the boxes, pecking at the wood and clawing at the lids, trying to pull them open. Diego twisted violently and tore himself lose and fell to the ground. The crows lunged and pecked at his chest and face. They were beaten away by the girl her tree branch. She grabbed Diego by the shirt collar.

  “Get up,” she commanded.

  Diego picked up his stick, ran back to the jammed crate and tried again to pry it loose. The wooden sides of the box began to splinter and water started to flow inside. Within a few seconds the crate had sunk to the bottom of the canal, freeing the rest of the crates to flow towards the city.

  On top of them hundreds of crows were piercing into the lids with their talons and pulling back while flapping their wings, trying to stop the crates from escaping to the city. One of the lids popped open. The crows all cackled in unison and swarmed at the beans, tearing them to shreds. Diego stared at this.

  “Are you sure you want to get inside one?” he yelled above the pandemonium.

  She watched blankly as the beans were torn apart. “What other choice do I have?” She began to run back upstream knocking away the crows that came at her. She appeared to be looking for a specific crate.

  “Why don’t you just take one of these?” he asked as he ran after her. He looked back, the woods were blocking the city. The other canal workers wouldn’t be able to see him now.

  “I’m looking for one from my farm,” she said. “I can only open one of them with my key.”

  “My key opens them all,” Diego shouted.

  The mutant stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I can’t read your mind,” he yelled. He swung his stick and knocked away the crows that were trying to bust open the nearest crate. He pulled the key card from his pocket, held it over the lock and lifted the lid. It was filled with beans, but there seemed to be enough room for a person.

  Without a word the girl ran and hopped in. The crate bobbed in the water, but remained floating. She shimmied her shoulders and hips until sank down into the beans.

  “Wait, how will I know which crate you’re in?” he asked. He didn’t want to say it to her, but if anyone else opened the crate and found her inside, they’d kill her on sight.

  “Here,” she said, taking a knife from her ankle and handing it to him. “Stab this in top.”

  He took the knife. “Good luck.” After closing the lid, he locked the crate and made
sure he jabbed the knife down where her feet were. She seemed nice, he didn’t want to accidentally stab her in the face.

  He turned to run back towards the city when a dozen crows crashed into him from behind, knocking him down onto the stony path. They clawed and scratched at his back and neck and scalp. He writhed in pain on the ground.

  ∞

  As soon as the lid was closed Kizzy found it hard to breath. The beans gave off a strong chemical smell and the space was tight, leaving little room for oxygen. Her nose was nearly touching the lid. Inches away on the other side of the wood bloodthirsty crows were pecking at the lid desperately trying to get to the beans and to her.

  She closed her eyes and pretended the sound was rain on the roof of her house. She faintly heard the cackling of the thousands of crows outside. But they now seemed far away. It was only Kizzy with her thoughts, slowly floating on the canal water.

  In that moment of peace her mind went to her friend, Laura who was dead. Kizzy kept trying to wrap her mind around that but she couldn’t do it. Her only friend in the world was dead and gone forever, and she was to blame. Laura must’ve gone through so much pain.

  Kizzy thought back to when her mother told her she had died. She almost looked happy telling Kizzy that she had to kill herself now. As if it was a relief for her. It must have been a load off her mind. She was avoiding fifty years with someone who was only going to die anyway. It must have been thrilling to be free of it.

  Fifty years. What kind of life would that have been anyway? With the end constantly looming in the distance. Maybe she would have tried harder to be good, since there was limited time. When she had forever it was almost an excuse. There would always be time to become someone better. Always.

  But now? Now there may have been only a few minutes left. For the first time Kizzy began to realize just what she was doing. She was floating towards certain death. She felt the panic creeping into her heart. She would be killed for sure. Why had she trusted that mutant she had met? How did she know he wouldn’t tell the authorities? How did she know, assuming he was truthful, that he would be the one to open the crate? If it was anyone else, forget it, she’d be a goner, no questions asked. It will be painful too. Why had she done this? She hadn’t been thinking straight. She had killed Laura and disappointed the only person in her life who mattered. It had clouded her judgment. She could have gone to her room and peacefully ended it all. That would’ve been the right thing to do.

  Kizzy began to cry. Everything she had ever cared about was destroyed. She tried to choke back the tears, but they came bursting through anyway. They burned her cheeks. She was doing this for Laura. That’s what she had to remind herself. She would find Banshee, then find a way to Enoch, and he could bring Laura back.

  Kizzy thought back to the moment in the barn, when she had destroyed the album as Laura stood there and watched. To Laura it probably felt like Kizzy was destroying their friendship.

  I didn’t mean it, Kizzy tried to say to the memory of her friend. I’m going to find Enoch, even if it’s the last thing I do. But Laura couldn’t hear her, she was frozen in that moment with tears in her eyes.

  Kizzy began to feel lightheaded. Breathing had become very difficult. Each breath she took stung her lungs. The oxygen was depleting. The crows were still cawing, but they seemed further away now. How close was she to the city? There was no way of knowing. If she knocked on the lid someone would come and open it, but that would mean certain death.

  Could she pry the lid open? A crack would be enough to let the air to seep through. She put her knees and hands up against the wood and pushed but it only caused her to sink further down into the beans. She tried again and sank even more. She gasped. There was almost nothing to the air now, only the noxious gas from the beans. She gasped again and a pain shot through her head.

  What would it be Kizzy? Death by suffocation or murdered by the mutants?

  She pounded on the lid and tried to scream. Only a whimper came from her mouth. She banged on the wood with her fists, trying not to breath. She kicked and clawed. Her arms became sore and ran out of power. Suddenly they fell and she couldn’t move them anymore. That was the last of her oxygen. She inhaled but it felt empty. It would be death by suffocation.

  Kizzy felt the crate bob, it was still in the water. The cawing of the crows came closer. Then came the scratching of dozens of claws and pecks. She became afraid. They must have heard her pounding and now they would tear her apart. The lid was pried open partially and a beam of light shined in. Kizzy leaned over and put her mouth to the small opening. She gasped in all she could. So, she would survive a little longer. She pounded again on the inside of the lid and the crows were spooked and flew away.

  She tried to stay awake as long as she could. Who would open the lid first, a mutant or a crow? Hopefully whatever it was would wake her up before killing her. She drifted off. Her sleep was deep, toxic and dreamless.

  She awoke in a panic. The lid was now gone. A wooden ceiling stood a couple of yards above her. She tried to lean up but realized her hands were tied. She could see that she was in a small brick warehouse. The afternoon sun shined through small dirty windows. Who had brought her here? More importantly why was she tied up? There were rusty tools on a table, wrenches and saws and a torch. Kizzy realized in terror that whoever had her here intended on harming her.

  9

  Kizzy pulled with her teeth at the rope that had been crudely tied around her wrists and was able to wriggle her hands free. Her captor was clearly not very smart. Carefully, she pulled her legs up and over the side of the crate. It was crucial that she kept silent. Just then the wooden box busted and she and the beans spilled out all over the floor.

  “Are you awake?” came a voice from the other room.

  Kizzy tried to run for the door but her jeans were caught in a splinter in the crate. The mutant she had met earlier came walking in from the other room, holding her sharp deer antler knife in his hand. His face was cut and scratched. Kizzy screamed and tried to pull her jeans loose but they were completely pierced through by the splinter. She pulled at them and they ripped.

  The boy walked towards her with the knife held out. Kizzy screamed as he stabbed down, cutting her jeans loose. She fell to the floor. She needed to get the knife out of his hands. She pounced and grabbed onto his wrist. He held tightly to the knife, but she bit into his hand until his grip loosened. She pulled the knife from his grasp and held it to his neck. Her heart was racing.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked. His face was red and his eyes were terrified.

  “Why was I tied up?”

  “I didn’t know if I could trust you,” he said. “I’m not sure how the plague works, I just know you’re not supposed to be here.”

  Kizzy was taken aback by this. How could he have known of her condition? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah right,” he said. “All of you out there are carriers. That’s what the wall is for.”

  “No,” said Kizzy. “It’s to keep the plague inside.” She lowered the knife from his throat and backed away.

  He stood there, pale and shaking. His face was strange somehow. His short hair and broad shoulders were odd looking.

  “Are you sure you don’t have it?” he asked.

  “Positive,” Kizzy said. She didn’t dare tell him.

  He felt his throat to make sure it wasn’t cut. Shaking his head he sat down onto the workbench, wincing as he rubbed his bitten wrist.

  “Sorry about that,” Kizzy said, putting the knife back into the holder in her boot. “I thought you were going to stab me.”

  “Why would I even do that?”

  “I don’t know. You had me tied up. And this place is super creepy.”

  “Creepy? If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

  Kizzy
went for the door.

  “Just hold on a second,” he said. “You’ll be killed if you go out there.”

  “Well what should I do then?” “Why are you even here?”

  “I’ve told you already,” she said. “I’m going to the Banshee concert.”

  “Yeah, I remembered that. It’s just that it makes no sense. If anyone sees you here you’ll get arrested, or killed, or arrested then killed. I’m just not sure one concert is worth that risk. And I’m assuming that you don’t know where the concert is. And I’d venture a guess that you don’t have tickets to get inside either. Am I right?”

  Kizzy nodded.

  “And so how are you expecting to pull this off?”

  Kizzy shrugged her shoulders. It sounded all so stupid when she heard it out loud. “I was just going to try.”

  He smiled and shook his head. His teeth were very white, and his eyes were very warm. “You really are something else. Are all mutants like you?”

  “You’re the mutant,” Kizzy said.

  “No, I’m pretty sure you’re the mutant.”

  “No, we walled you all in after the plague.”

  “It was the other way around,” he said. “Is that what they teach you in school?”

  “Yes?” Kizzy said. It was all so confusing. They must have taught all the mutants in the city that they were the normal ones. How sad.

  “Well it doesn’t matter,” he said. “What’s the old word they used for the people outside the wall. Women. Are all women like you?”

  “Not really,” she said. She went and sat down inside the bean crate. She looked around the small little room. There were spider webs in the rafters and the dust on the window sills. It was pretty gross. “Do you live here?”

  “No. Well, the past few days I have,” he said. He still looked nervous, but he was calmer now. “I live in the city center with some other guys. I come here to be alone and work on that bike over there.” He pointed to the rusty piece of machinery with two wheels.