Machine Of Death (11 page)

“I ain’t hungry,” said Johnny. 

“Don’t matter,” said Dalton, pushing one of the MREs at Johnny. “You gotta eat something. I’m not gonna carry you around tomorrow if you’re too weak.” 

Johnny laughed. “Yeah, and where are we supposed to go?” 

“Gotta find water,” said Dalton. “Unless you saw a spring somewhere today.” 

Johnny leaned back on the log and shook his head. “No,” he said. “I didn’t.” Dalton held out the
MRE
again and Johnny took it this time. He opened it, looking for stars through the canopy the whole time. 

“What are you doing out here anyway?” asked Dalton. He took a swig from his canteen and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “You don’t seem the type. You seem like a smarter guy than this.” 

“Yeah,” said Johnny, “well, I’m not.” He picked at his food for a minute in silence. “I couldn’t get into school.” 

“What? High school?” 

Johnny looked over at Dalton for the first time. He thought he was maybe making fun of him, bullying him, but it didn’t look like it. “College,” he said. 

“Oh,” said Dalton. 

“Yeah, well,” said Johnny. “I didn’t want to flip burgers, so I thought I’d join up and maybe get into school that way. Or at least learn how to do something.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and rubbed his wrist into his eye socket. The mosquitos were biting now. Or whatever they were. “I didn’t think I’d actually end up here.” 

“Nobody does,” said Dalton. They were quiet for a few minutes. Johnny nibbled a little on the food, and Dalton rearranged the fire as best he could. “I can’t get Sanchez out of my head back there,” he finally said. “Still in his helmet like that. I mean, how the hell does that even happen?” He lifted one of the logs and tried to get a bit of bark burning. A puff of smoke hit him in the eyes and he sat back, blinking. “That’s not even the worst part,” he said. “Imagine going through your whole life with
that
on your ticket. I mean, Goddamn.” Dalton rubbed the last of the smoke out of his eyes, smearing a line of ash down his cheek in the process. He was still looking at the fire. “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said slowly, “what’s on your ticket, kid?” 

Johnny didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t answer. As soon as Dalton had mentioned Sanchez, his bowels had all gone weak and his stomach had flopped and risen, forcing all the air out of his lungs. By the time Dalton turned around again, Johnny was already vomiting his dinner back out into his hand. Dalton jumped up to his side and Johnny felt his big hands pressing against his head. 

“Oh hey, kid,” said Dalton. “I’m sorry about that. I should have never said that stuff about Sanchez. I keep forgetting this is your first time out here.” 

Johnny didn’t feel any better in the morning light. Heavy beads of sweat clung to his forehead, and his skin felt like it was stretched tight across the bones of his face. Dalton had given him the canteen in the night, but he had drunk it dry. He still hadn’t eaten anything. 

“You okay, kid?” asked Dalton, feeling Johnny’s arms and legs for fractures. “You sure you didn’t get hurt in the crash? Does anything hurt? You could have been in shock most of yesterday and never even known it.” 

Johnny shook his head. “No,” he croaked. “Just shook up, that’s all. I’ll be fine in the afternoon.” Even as he spoke, he knew it wasn’t true. He felt terrible, like he was floating on the surface of a fast-moving stream. He was only wearing his undershirt and his pants, but even so he felt like he was being slowly smothered to death. Like snakes were coiling themselves around his body and biting his bowels. “I think I drank all the water,” he said. “Sorry.” 

Dalton shook his head and picked up the empty canteen. “Don’t worry about it, kid. I’ll find some more.” Dalton stood over Johnny a second longer. He seemed to be thinking hard about something. Then he put the rifle on the ground next to Johnny. “Here, be careful with this,” he said. “But I’ll probably be gone all morning. If something happens and you need me, let off a round.” He stood up again. “And for God’s sake, kid, don’t shoot me when I come back.” 

By afternoon, Johnny was a little better. He heard Dalton crunching through the undergrowth and he reached out to push the rifle away. He hadn’t even been touching it before, but it was better to be safe than sorry. A minute later, Dalton knelt down next to him, holding the canteen to his lips. The water tasted gritty, but it was cool and wet enough. 

“Did you find a spring?” asked Johnny. 

Dalton shook his head, squatting on his heels nearby. He picked up his rifle and slung it over his shoulder again. “I ended up collecting the water from leaves.” He motioned to the canopy as he took a drink himself. “Dew and stuff, I guess.” 

“Sounds like that would take a while.” 

Dalton laughed. “It does.” He wiped his forehead. “I just hope I didn’t sweat away more than I got.” He flashed his big toothed smile again. He had a rough face, swarthy and twisted, but he looked boyish and almost handsome when he grinned that way. “You eat anything?” 

“Still not hungry.” 

Dalton nodded, rocking back on his heels. “Look, Johnny,” he said. “We have to have a serious talk.” Johnny looked over at him, waiting. “How do you die?” 

Johnny shook his head. “What does it matter to you?” 

“You know mine,” said Dalton. “Homicide, murder, whatever you want to call it. I got a gun, and we each got a knife. I just want to know how this ends, you and me alone here. What chance do we got?” 

Johnny’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?” 

“Look, kid, we don’t know where we are. Maybe we’re close by home, and maybe they’re looking for us right now, and maybe a chopper’ll fly overhead in the next five minutes. Maybe.” Dalton scratched the side of his face, stretching his mouth. “But maybe nobody else knows what happened to us. Maybe we’re stuck somewhere they can’t get to us. Maybe they got other problems.” 

Johnny just looked at Dalton. He still felt a little feverish. He understood everything Dalton was saying, but it sounded like it was coming from far away. 

“We might be here a while,” said Dalton. “That’s all I’m saying. We got to prepare for that. And if we’re going to prepare, then we have to know what we’re up against. What do we have to watch out for, you know?” Dalton tapped himself on the chest. “Me, that’s murder. Other people. That’s what I got to watch out for.” 

Johnny shook his head and made like he was going to get up. Dalton stopped him. 

“I’m not talking about you, kid. You’re sick, and I can take you in a fair fight anyway.” He patted the stock of the rifle. “And I got the gun right now, so I’m not scared of you. We got no reason to kill each other. But if you’re gonna go down homicide too, then maybe we’ll get rid of the knives and the gun. Throw them in the ocean or something.” Dalton raised his eyebrows and looked down at Johnny. “It’s just the two of us here, and if we can keep from killing each other then we’ll be okay. As long as we’re alone and as long as we both stick together, nothing can happen to us.” Suddenly his voice softened and dropped. “We got water and food now, but that’s not gonna last. Not the food anyway. If nobody comes for us, we’re gonna start getting desperate and I’d just as soon not have any weapons around when it happens.” Dalton looked down at his hands. “You see what I’m getting at here? We got to know these things so we can do what we have to do before we get to the point when we start thinking crazy things about each other.” Dalton paused for a minute. “So, how do you die?” 

Johnny breathed in deep. “You didn’t find any food?” Dalton shook his head. “What about those snakes? Or birds?” 

“Gotta catch them,” said Dalton. “And even then…” He shrugged. “Not much meat on a snake. I didn’t even see any fish out there. Maybe there’ll be some that come by later, but who knows.” 

“And you don’t think they’re coming for us?” 

Dalton pressed his lips together. “I hope they are,” he said. “But there’re a lot of islands out here, and we’re not exactly in friendly territory.” His voice trailed off. 

Johnny just nodded and sighed. “All right then.” He raised his eyes to Dalton’s. He could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead and his upper lip. “I’m supposed to starve to death.” 

Dalton didn’t look surprised. He just looked angry. “Goddamn it!” he shouted. He stood up and walked a few paces around the camp, and then he seemed to calm down a little. He went over to the pack and tossed Johnny an
MRE
. “Eat something anyway.” 

Johnny shook his head. “What’s the point? Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re done for, here. They’re not gonna come and we’re not gonna find any food. I don’t know. Maybe you make it out okay, but I’m gonna die here for sure.” 

Dalton sat down, tipping his head back. He looked at Johnny through his knees, his hands dangling clasped above his feet. “Eat it,” he said. “If you’re right, at least you’ll live another day. But you might be wrong. Either way, you might as well eat while you can.” 

Johnny opened the
MRE
and took a bite. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Now that he had food in his hands, it was hard to convince himself to eat slowly. In between bites, he glanced at Dalton.

“You’re not having one?” 

Dalton shook his head. “I ate earlier.” 

On the morning of the third day, Johnny felt almost better. When he awoke, he was still sore and hungry, but the fever was gone. The back of his neck was cold and slick. His arms and legs ached with tension. The muddy places where his buttocks rested against the earth were wet. Looking down at his body, he saw a spider with long spindly legs climbing up his trousers. Johnny brushed it away and sat up. 

“Thirsty?” asked a voice. Johnny jumped. Dalton, of course. He was holding out the canteen. Johnny took it. 

“You back already?” 

“It’s almost noon,” said Dalton. He was sitting on his haunches again, watching Johnny like a mother hawk over her chicks. He must have been waiting there awhile. “You want anything to eat?” 

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut and stretched his arms and legs. “Better not,” he said. “There’s only two left, right?” 

“Three.” 

Johnny did the math in his head again. They’d both eaten two so far, so there should be only two left. “You didn’t eat yesterday?” asked Johnny. Dalton smiled and shook his head. “You have one then,” said Johnny. “I can have one tomorrow.” 

“What’s the point of that?” asked Dalton. “I’m not planning on starving to death, no matter how little I eat. But you need some food if you’re gonna get better.” 

“We’ll split one.” 

In a few minutes, they were eating. After a while, Johnny sat up higher and looked around the little camp that Dalton had built over the past two days. There was a place cleared for the fire with a bit of wood drying nearby. Dalton’s blanket was hung across a couple of wires stretched between the trees—a tent or a water collector, maybe. And that was it. That was the whole camp. 

“Where’s the rifle?” asked Johnny. 

Dalton licked his fingers, trying to suck the last bit of grease off them. “Ditched it,” he said. “Threw it into the ocean like I said.” He leveled a finger at Johnny. “I want to ditch the knives too, both of ours.” 

Johnny shook his head. “We’re gonna need them. You should have kept the gun too. What if there’s an animal we could have shot? Or what if somebody shows up?” 

“We’re running out of food already,” said Dalton. “It’s like I told you before, things are going to get desperate and who knows what we’ll do then. We just gotta keep from killing each other and maybe we’ll be okay. Just get rid of the weapons, and we’ll be fine.” 

“You’ll be fine,” said Johnny darkly. “I’m still gonna starve to death.” 

“We don’t know that. We don’t know what’s gonna happen.” 

“Forget it,” said Johnny. “I’m keeping my knife. You said yourself that you could take me in a fair fight. I’m sick and I’m not as strong as you. If we get rid of the knives, then I got nothing. This is all I got.” 

Dalton suddenly stood up, gripping his scalp in his hands. “Don’t you get it?” he said. He was kicking the dirt like a mad bull. “I can’t kill you! I can’t do anything to you at all! I’m bigger and I’m stronger and I’m healthier, but none of that means anything. Even if I still had the gun, it wouldn’t make a difference! If I come at you, I’m the only one who’s got a chance of getting killed. I’d have to be an idiot to risk it!” 

“You thought about it?” 

“What?” 

“You thought about coming at me?” asked Johnny. 

“Dammit, kid. I thought about
everything
.” Dalton looked down at Johnny. His face was harsh. “I thought about every possible way to get us both out of here alive, or one of us, or neither of us. I’m trying to figure this thing out. I’m trying to think up a plan where neither one of us gets hurt. So yeah, I thought about jumping you while you were lying there passed out. But what good would it do? What would be the point? I’d just be risking my neck for nothing. We gotta do this together. It’s the only way, and I know I can get us through it. But we gotta get rid of those knives to do it.” 

“Forget it!” Johnny’s voice was loud. He had taken his knife out and was holding it now, squeezing the handle tightly. “If we ditch the knives, then there’s even less hope we’ll ever eat again. And dammit, Dalton, even if you can’t kill me, there’re other things you can do.” 

Seeing the knife out, Dalton drew his, too. “There’s no point dragging this out then, is there? Why not just do it now if you’re so sure how it all ends?” 

“That’s what I thought,” said Johnny. “You keep pretending that you don’t think I’m gonna kill you. You keep pretending you’re not afraid of me. But now what? You trust me so much that you want to fight me when I’m sick?” Johnny lurched forward, half rising. The blood rushed to his head and he almost fell over, but he regained his balance. “You want to come at me?” He waved his knife at Dalton. “You want to come at me, then come!” 

Dalton looked from his knife to Johnny’s. He clenched his fists and let out a howl. Then he turned and stalked into the jungle, slashing at vines and branches as he went. He didn’t come back at all that day.