by Sabina Green
“What is this? You… spied on him?”
“Yes.”
She kept turning the pages until she got to the last one, where she noticed the date.
“For five years?” she exclaimed. “Why?”
“So that we’d know whether he deserves to survive.”
Connie looked like she was about to faint.
“We weren’t about to create the new community out of the very people we’re trying to save the planet from. We wanted to be sure that all the survivors are good people. The kind ones, selfless, capable of love and friendship. Smart, hardworking.”
I let her process this information.
“What about Ruby?” she said in a creaky voice.
I scratched the stubble on my chin. “We were supposed to match every adult with a child, either their own offspring or a grandchild. The only condition was that they must be related by blood in a direct line.”
“Why exactly?”
“The Collective assumed that the child would be the best motivation for the adults to follow instructions. They’ll want to protect their young at all costs. And if they’re their own, not strangers, the protective instinct will be a thousand times stronger.”
“You talk about them like they’re animals.”
“Isn’t it the same thing? We’re all governed by the same impulses and instincts.”
Well actually, most of us were. Some people were capable of abusing their family members physically and psychologically to such extent, it boggled the mind. And these were the kind of people who had to be dealt with…
“Let’s say,” she admitted, “that Dad and Ruby survive. What about me?”
I saw the hope in her pleading expression and I felt almost anxious about having to take it away from her. I shook my head and she closed her eyes in pain.
“Why not?” she asked.
Was it cruel to go into detail and remind her that she has to die?
“We were supposed to choose an adult of a certain character and a child to go with them. Just those two, nobody else. No other family members.”
She wiped her tears which were now coming down in streams. “Why are you telling me this when it can’t be me?”
It was admirable that she hadn’t fully succumbed to despair yet. I expected her to yell, sob hysterically, struggle, tear her hair out, or even insist that I give her the vaccine right there and then. Those few tears were nothing.
“Because you’re dying anyway,” I said as gently as possible and my throat tightened. The fact that I wanted people to disappear from the surface of the Earth didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of the innocence of all those individuals. “It wouldn’t have been any help for you to get the vaccine.”
The disgusted expression was back. “How considerate!”
“I’m afraid it’s too late to be considerate now… If you choose to work with us, it’ll be much easier to give Frank and Ruby the vaccine, in fact, you could do it yourself. Convince them that in a month’s time, they should go to…”
“Enough!” she interrupted me and covered her ears with her hands. “I don’t want to hear any more!”
I didn’t stop her when she bolted for the door. I was sure she’d be back to get the rest of the details and make sure that her family survives.
Connie
I wanted to reject everything Mark had said out of hand, and not believe any of it. I was going through all the individual pieces of information, trying to find a weak link. It all sounded so unlikely, so absurd. That they could create a deadly plague and murder eight billion people? But before that, administer a vaccine to a few chosen ones without them knowing what’s going on, and then gather them together to start a new community? It sounded more like a movie than a reality which I should be concerned about.
But the longer I tried to convince myself that it’s all stupid, the more proof I had on the contrary. Very old memories were resurfacing. For instance, someone hanging around Dad’s house and rummaging through his bins at dusk. When Dad walked out to find out what the person wanted, the supposed homeless person looking for old food turned out to be a neat-looking guy in a white collared t-shirt, clean jeans and pristine sneakers. They stared at each other for a moment until Dad said that if the man was hungry, he could come in and have dinner with him. But the guy refused him with a shake of the head and left without saying a word. What was he looking for in Dad’s rubbish? I was watching him bewildered from the door. At the time we shrugged it off, human behaviour can be pretty ridiculous sometimes. Could it be that someone had been checking on Dad? Was it a part of that spying Mark was telling me about tonight?
Another memory popped up in my head, the three of us going shopping, it must have been a few years ago now. Although the aisle was definitely wide enough, an angry looking woman sprinted past us, elbowing Dad in the ribs. An apology wouldn’t hurt, he called after her and his words were left without a response. After that we kept bumping into her every few minutes in some other aisle, and every time there was a collision. Either she was taking up the whole area with her strangely empty trolley and we had to ask her to let us through, or she herself bothered us, leaning over our shoulders rudely to get to the shelves, muttering something about inconsiderate people. Dad never stopped being the gentleman he is, never lost his cool. Would you like me to hand you something? Excuse me, madam. My apologies. At the end of our shopping trip we saw her standing by the cashiers, watching us–Dad?–from over there, and eagerly writing something into a little notepad. In the end she walked away from her trolley without having bought anything. I remembered that day mainly because any kind of strange, suspicious behaviour made me feel worried about my daughter.
We’d speculated that maybe the woman’s life was going to pieces and she was taking her distress out on strangers. Now it seemed like that confrontation wasn’t so random.
I had a whole bunch of other memories, and every single one of them made me more paranoid.
Whether The Collective really had been planning a world-wide genocide or not, they’d been watching us for years! Dad might have been the one they were interested in, but since we’d lived in the same house for some time now, I suddenly felt exposed, at the mercy of snooping eyes.
After leaving the Association building I went straight home and spent the entirety of that short journey looking over my shoulder. It was after midnight when I got to our house, not a single light was on. I was glad Dad hadn’t waited for me, I wouldn’t want him to see me so absent-minded, scared and panicky.
I went straight to bed, but my mind was racing and I couldn’t sleep. I had no idea how long The Collective had been active, if its members would have had enough time to put together such an elaborate plan, and find enough people willing to die for it. I had no clue if this Collective even existed! What proof was there? The whole video could have just been made by Mark, and he could then claim whatever he wanted about it. On the other hand, I found it hard to believe that Mark would come up with all those details by himself, just to frighten some random woman. I remembered the posters covering the lounge walls, supporting his explanation. All of them were in favour of animals and the environment without humans.
The hours kept ticking by as I was tortured by my own thoughts. I was restless, twisting and turning, my bed sheet damp with nervous sweat. Just after three o’clock the hallway light flicked on and I heard Dad’s footsteps and the bathroom door closing. A few moments later my bedroom door opened and a yellow rectangle of light fell on the rug on the floor. Before Dad stuck his head in to check up on me, my eyes were firmly shut and I was breathing as calmly as I could.
I couldn’t begrudge him his worry, I knew that my recent behaviour must have seemed strange at the very least. So far he was watching me in silence. Would he say something if he figured out my current health situation? Or the upcoming end of the world?
Enough with the n
onsense, I told myself while he went back to his room. I can’t trust Mark until I find out more!
First I should calm down so as not to reach a wrong conclusion out of sheer absentmindedness, then find out all the details, and only then decide whether or not it’s time to panic.
In the end I managed to fall asleep. Just before the metaphorical blinds went down, I had a thought: Mark was saying something about four weeks… What if that’s really all the time I have left? Not half a year, which until now I considered desperately short, but only a fragment of it?
No wonder I felt sick right after waking up. The occasional stabbing sensation in my chest was joined by vertigo and an intense throbbing in my temples.
“Aren’t you getting up a bit late?” Dad frowned when he saw me walking out of my bedroom. “Will you make it to work on time?”
I looked at the clock in the kitchen. “Shit,” I cursed quietly so that Ruby, playing in the living room, wouldn’t hear. I had just enough time to throw my uniform on, brush my teeth and comb my hair. “I was up late last night, must have slept through the alarm.” If I’d even set one?
“I didn’t want to wake you, I thought maybe you took a day off again,” he said apologetically and it was clear that it’s what he wanted me to do. All three of us had enjoyed that day by the river.
I knew my timetable for the next month by heart, but I still looked at the filled in calendar by the fridge. “I’m free tomorrow. I’ll take Ruby to the park, I can do it on my own if you want to relax.”
“I don’t need to relax, I relax all the time. How about we do something?”
“Sounds good,” I shouted from the bathroom where I was trying to complete my morning routine without falling over. My stomach twisted into knots.
“Are you going anywhere after work today, or coming straight home?” He sounded more worried than reproachful. That was exactly why I needed to find out what was going on, so that I could figure out what to do.
“I have some errands to run this afternoon and I’m not sure how long it’ll take. I’d like to be home for dinner but I can’t promise anything.” I ran through to my bedroom bent slightly forward, hoping Dad didn’t see. I took off my pyjamas and put on the uniform, which certainly didn’t look freshly ironed.
“I’ll make bramboráky,” Dad tempted me with savoury potato pancakes, my favourite Czech meal. “Without eggs of course.”
To me, being vegan didn’t feel like a whim, but I often wondered how others saw it. I was grateful for Dad’s flexibility, it didn’t even occur to him to complain about any of it. He’d just adjusted all the ingredients so that all of us could eat according to our own standards and preferences.
“You’re the best,” I praised his efforts to bring the family together for dinner. Until recently, it was understood that we eat and do all the evening routines, including games with Ruby and watching the evening news, together. I felt a pang of regret that he now thought he had to tempt me to join. Was he lonely? Ruby spent most of the day in kindy and I at work. Was he able to fill all those hours? It seemed silly to worry about a grown man, but a small voice in my head kept reminding me of Dad’s battle with PTSD, and that maybe this was his way of asking for help without having to come out and say: I’m not doing too good, and can’t bear to be alone, help me!
I was almost about to bring it up, but in the end I didn’t. After all, he never probed me about my problems, though I was clearly totally out of it. It seemed that respect for other people’s privacy ran in the family.
I felt terrible, saying a hasty goodbye and rushing from the house. I could feel Dad’s eyes on me and heard an echo of my daughter’s voice.
“Don’t go, Mummy. Stay here!”
I got into the car and drove to the station without thinking. Despite my efforts to get ready as quick as possible, I started my shift fifteen minutes late.
When I walked in, Emma gesticulated wildly as if to say: Finally!
The sergeant was leaning on my desk. “Connie,” he nodded at me. “When you’ve ironed your shirt, come see me in my office.”
Nobody has ever gotten away with a wrinkled uniform, it was pointless to hope that the doubtful state of mine would go unnoticed. To prevent any employee from using the excuse of not having had enough time at home, or even not owning an iron, the station was adequately equipped. I bowed my head humbly and went to carry out the sergeant’s order. Emma joined me after a moment, shock in her eyes.
“What took you so long? If I have to cover for you, I need to know what’s happening!”
“I’m sorry Em. I overslept.”
I undid the buttons of my shirt, took it off and started ironing it without looking at my friend. I simply couldn’t.
“I called you a few times. Why didn’t you pick up?”
I felt my back pocket and found it empty. “Left my phone at home.”
“You’ve never been late in the last six years, and as far as I remember you’ve never forgotten to call the station when something was up. Not even when you were sick after chemo or when you went into premature labour. Come on Connie, spill it! What the hell is going on with you?”
I was quiet and took deep breaths to keep my emotions under control.
“You don’t want to tell me now, fine. You promised we’d get together at the weekend. I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening, we’ll go for a drink and I won’t let you leave without an explanation.”
“Alright,” I agreed. At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter whether I had six months left or only two. Sooner or later I would stop going to work and Emma, as my friend, had to prepare for that. And so would the sergeant.
“Alright,” replied Emma, surprised. She clearly didn’t expect that to be so easy.
Before going back to the front where a sizable group of clients had started to form, she hugged me tightly, and I walked over to the sergeant’s office, shaking like a leaf.
“The uniform is alright now,” he assessed my state and in the same breath continued, “but I can’t say the same about you. Your performance and discipline are slipping, and let me tell you, I wasn’t expecting this from you of all people. I’ve known you for quite a few years now, and this isn’t you… What’s going on, Connie?”
I took a deep breath and closed the door. If I have to share my secret, let it be only with the selected few. There’s no need for this to spread.
“I have cancer,” I said bluntly, but that didn’t stop the tears springing to my eyes. They’d become a part of my daily life, I was starting to get sick of it. I didn’t want to leave the sergeant in any doubt, so I added: “Advanced stage.”
It looked like Dad was really going to be the last one to know. It took so much courage and strength to tell my boss, how on earth am I supposed to find it in me to tell my family, which means the world to me?
The sergeant gave me the expected condolences. I told him with complete honesty that I had no idea how long I’d keep coming to work, and answered his tactful questions. He excused my late arrival today and my absentmindedness in the last few weeks, and let me go to my desk with a sad sigh.
I expected my shift to drag, but it sped past me in a blur, and was over before I knew it. I didn’t remember the conversations with colleagues or today’s clients, and didn’t stop to rectify my ignorance. I just grabbed my purse, mumbled: “See ya!” and took off on my afternoon quest.
Mark
“What if she turns us in?” Andrew tried to stay calm, but his hands were shaking and the vein on his temple was throbbing.
“She won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
I shrugged. “I just am.”
Andrew took a step closer, so that we were almost chest to chest. I’d seen him disturbed, even angry, because of the world events many times, the only exception to his usually reserved character. I’d never seen him angry at me.
“I may not know the Fialas as thoroughly as you do, I know you’d been observing them three years longer than me,” I explained, “but I know people. When it comes down to it, they will always put their family’s safety above everything and everyone else, believe me. Connie won’t turn us in, because she cares too much about knowing that her family will survive all this. She won’t stand in the way… I’d even say she’ll end up helping us. She’ll be back to talk, you’ll see.”
He threw his hands in frustration. “How can you know that?”
“Because she’s standing right behind you.”
She’d appeared a few seconds ago, listened attentively to our conversation and I didn’t stop him talking on purpose. I remembered my own past doubts, I wanted her to hear Andrew talking about our plans, to see it’s not just some game.
Andrew spun around and looked at her with sharp eyes. She was standing in the corridor, slightly hesitant, probably waiting to be invited in. I couldn’t help but notice how pale she was, with dark circles under her eyes, I think it was clear she’d had a sleepless night. That was good, she clearly believed me.
“I’ll be at my desk,” uttered Andrew and walked away swiftly.
The whole floor was empty except for the three of us, most people had finished almost an hour ago. When my colleague retreated more or less out of sight, it was just Connie and me. For a while we just looked at each other. Why wasn’t she saying anything? I half expected her to start yelling at me, but she was just standing there quietly.
“How about we have some coffee and sit down?” I pointed at the armchairs and sofa.
She nodded and walked in. I thought she was going to go sit down, but Connie surprised me by following me to the kitchenette.
“I’m sorry I’ve sprung all this on you so suddenly,” I started while making coffee. “But I guess there is no gentle way to tell someone something like that.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I really believe what you’ve told me.”
