Authors: Mark Campbell
“It’s a stupid plan, isn’t it?” Jerri asked, looking down at the floor.
Andrew glared at her.
“What is a stupid plan? Your flight to Camp 7?” Witt asked.
Jerri nodded.
“You know,” Witt reflected, “When I was about nineteen, I went
hiking in the mountains with nothing but a cell phone and the clothes I
had on. Mind you, I was a city boy all my life and knew nothing about
hiking. I found this really nice trail that twisted all throughout the forest. I
walked that trail for
miles
… Then the trail abruptly ended. Know what I
did?”
“Hell no! I cut my own path through the forest. Saplings slapped
my face, my legs got cut up, my shirt became tattered, and, naturally, I
didn’t have any goddamn cell phone reception. When I finally staggered
out of the forest onto a small road hours later, I was covered in ticks and
had spider bites all over my face. I was so dehydrated that I passed out
next to the road. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed wondering
what in the fuck happened.”
Jerri and Andrew laughed.
“My point is that just because something
seems
like a bad idea
doesn’t mean that it isn’t worth pursuing,” Witt said as he waved a finger
in the air. “That hike was one of my most memorable sober moments
from my teen years and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“No,” Witt said. “My plan is to build up the nerve to put my two
angels out of their suffering one night and then use the last bullet on
myself. That’s my plan... When it will happen I have no idea. I’m going to
try to hold up here for another year. It will be our twentieth anniversary. I
think it’d be fitting to end it then, you think?”
“Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to be all bleak. Let me ask though… why
Camp 7? Why follow a fractured government? Why not make your own
path through the forest?”
“No, that’s stupid,” Witt said in a dismissive tone. “The people
hiding in the city know that they are doomed. This is a temporary fix at
best. Once the supplies run out, the looting will start all over again. You
need a permanent solution.”
“Like…?” Jerri pressed.
“Canada,” Witt said, nodding.
Andrew scoffed.
“Canada is gone. The world is gone,” Andrew said darkly.
“Funny,” Witt said. “I saw two UN cargo jets fly over the city last
week. They were moving nice and slow and
loud
. Whoever is left out there
is clearly interested in what happened here but they’re smart enough not
to land. Sometimes I even see some of our own jets… big bomber planes.
After that failed thermobaric bomb they dropped, I was worried that they
may try nuking again despite how horribly that went out east.”
Jerri leaned close, clearly fascinated.
“Why Canada?” she asked.
Witt looked over at her and nodded.
“A group of people came through about a month ago and spoke
in the streets to anybody who would listen about something called the
Union of Free Nations. Apparently it’s a large network of selfindependent communal city-states in Canada.”
“America gave up on me and my family the moment they sealed
us inside the city,” Witt said. “The authorities left and Tucson fell apart
well before the infection ever arrived at our doorstep. They quarantined
us. Military execution squads roamed the streets… Have you even seen
the mass graves? Have–”
Witt fell silent and sighed.
“Well like I said… It’s just another option to consider,” Witt said.
“One bad idea is just as good as another I suppose,” Witt said as
he stared at the concealed baby with fascination. “Young lady,” he asked,
“may I hold him? It’s been so long since I’ve seen a baby…”
Witt cackled with delight and held the child. The baby felt strange
in his arms, cold and stiff. His smile slowly faded as he lifted the blanket
off of Jacob’s face. His expression fell flat as he stared at the child’s
sunken cheeks and closed eyes. The infant had been dead for quite awhile.
“Thank you so much for your hospitality,” she said as she
covered the baby with the shawl once again. “I’m beat though… Where
can I sleep?”
“J-just take the girl’s bedroom,” he said with hesitation.
Andrew looked down, ashamed.
“Night,” Jerri said, “And thanks.”
Witt watched her retreat and tried to calm his shaking hands.
Once she was safely inside the bedroom out of earshot, he turned his pale
face towards Andrew.
“H-how long?” Witt stammered.
Andrew shook his head.
“He was premature and doomed from the start… he died
sometime during the night,” Andrew said with a long sigh. He slumped
down on the sofa and stared off into the distance.
“She doesn’t…?” Witt started.
“You saw her trying to feed it,” Andrew said quietly. “I don’t
think she’s been able to come to terms with it so she’s…” He trailed off
and shook his head. “She’s dealing with it the only way she knows how.”
Witt raised an eyebrow and dug his fingernails into his knees.
“She’s not
dealing
with anything, Andrew,” Witt said.
Andrew blinked and looked over at Witt.
“And neither are you,” Andrew said as he pointed towards the
padlocked door. He stood up and stretched. “I’m not a psychologist and I
don’t know what is wrong with her… but it will pass.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Witt asked.
“It will pass,” Andrew said. “I’m going to tell her goodnight.”
Andrew started to walk down the hallway.
“I see the way you look at her,” Witt said. “I know you don’t
want to admit it but you can’t fix someone and just put them back
together again once they break past a certain point.” Witt paused.
“There’s no fixing me.”
Witt shook his head, muttering to himself. He was thankful that
those two would be out of his hair in the morning; Andrew and Jerri were
lucky that he needed their help with the issue at the base.
J
erri felt uncomfortable in the room. The décor was a mixture of
innocence and teenage angst. The posters on the wall were a mixture of
old pop singers and acid rockers, the lamps had Hello Kitty shades, and
the dresser vanity was stacked with makeup that looked like it came out of
a KISS merchandise catalog. The curtains were green and the comforter
was some awful floral arrangement.
On the plus side, lying on an actual mattress was exquisite, even if
the comforter was awful and half of the bed was covered with throw
pillows. She had forgotten how wonderful it was not to sleep on an army
cot.
She had taken out one of the dresser drawers and sat it on the
floor next to the bed for Jacob. She emptied the dresser and stuffed it
with pillows from the bed; God only knew that the bed had more than
enough pillows to sacrifice.
“Come in,” she said, quickly sitting up. She almost expected the
very hospitable Witt to be standing there holding a cup of herbal tea and
some fresh linens.
“Just seeing if you’ve settled in okay for the night… next to the
creepy padlocked room. I’m going to take the other sofa out there with
Witt,” Andrew said. He looked around the room and shuddered. “Man…
I’m so glad I never had a daughter.”
“I was once seventeen, you dork,” she said.
He rolled his eyes.
“Yeah a
long
time ago,” he said.
Jerri punched him in the arm, hard.
Jerri gave him a cattish grin.
“I’m sure I can find other ways to make you suffer.”
“I know you don’t want to go to the Capital,” Andrew said softly,
looking down. “But it would me a lot to me if you did… I can’t do this
without you, Jerri.”
Jerri looked away and hesitated in her response.
“Do you think any of what he said is true though?” she asked.
“I doubt it,” he answered lowly. “People have always spread
rumors about safe havens ever since the start of the outbreak. Jerri… I
need
you. You’ve been my motivation through all of this. I don’t want to
lose you over some myth.”
It was true. He didn’t want to lose her; he had been watching her
for a long time back in the camp, secretly lusting for her. There were
many girls he could have chosen to be his significant other, but she was
the only one who really captivated him. Originally, he was planning to
capture her as one of the civilians for the project. She had no living
family, no real connections inside the camp, and only one friend.
His plans changed the day he saw her buy the knife from that tent
dweller. Her fire lured him in and his fascination was almost
instantaneous.
He was, in essence, simply a moth.
Jerri sighed.
“You’re probably right,” she replied. “I’m just afraid…”
“Of what?” he asked as he looked over at her.
“Of going back to another camp… I hated that place, Andrew.”
“It will be the best thing for us though,” he assured her. He
reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Besides, I’ll keep us
safe… I promise.”
Andrew missed the control and the power he had. In Canada,
even if there really was a safe haven, which he seriously doubted, he’d be a
regular civilian again and he simply couldn’t have that.
“I know… and I’d be all for going to Canada,” Andrew lied, “but
we… have a baby to think about now… We can’t take risks like that. The
sooner we get to Camp 7, the better.”
“Andrew… that part frightens me too,” she muttered, tapping
her fingers on her arms. “I’m not ready to be a mother… what if I mess
up?”