Sami–exhausted, miserable, separated from Candy and burdened with the stories of the other survivors–had broken down. Consumed with guilt and shame, he’d mistaken Adam’s calculated interest for genuine human concern. He’d told Adam of what he perceived to be his failing, seeing the potential for just what had occurred and not acting on it. Not putting a stop to it. His cowardice, as Sami saw it, was the thing that had doomed the world to its current fate.
That’s when Adam had stopped calling him Dr. Rafiq. Even though he corrected anyone else who tried to address Sami by his first name.
Now John Smith had come along and Candy watched as he drew Adam in through flattery and manipulation. She knew it could be a good thing; or it could be bad. Either Adam’s relationship with Smith would set Sami free…or Sami would become the low dog on the totem pole, the whipping boy for both of those psychopathic assholes.
Candy would watch and see which way it was playing out. She’d rescue Sami if she had to, she didn’t mind. She considered herself more fortunate than most of the other survivors because she felt almost entirely the same now as she had before this whole shitty mess.
To Candy, the world was a terrible place, now
and
before. She’d seen her own brother into his grave because of a disease that had been largely ignored by mainstream society because of the perception of who, specifically, got the disease…and she’d seen even worse than that.
Walking corpses and sinkers hadn’t made the world an endurance challenge.
The real people–the living–had done that.
~ ~ ~
Sami sat next to John Smith on the small upper bridge deck. John was staring intently at Adam and Carl on the lower deck. They were at the very back rail, away from anyone else and Carl looked frustrated. Twice, he gestured to the main body of
Flyboy
. He wanted something, that much was obvious, but Sami wasn’t able to determine what it was that Carl wanted.
Sami glanced uncomfortably at John Smith. All conversation had ceased as soon as Adam had walked away. It was as if Sami did not exist in John’s world. It made Sami very uneasy. Very nervous.
“That Carl is a very big man, isn’t he? He looks like a pirate! Very fitting for the boats, wouldn’t you agree, John?”
John Smith didn’t even bat an eye, only continued to stare at Adam and Carl.
“The funny thing is, he is a psychologist. You would never guess it, would you?” Sami laughed nervously.
John blinked once, closing and opening his eyes slowly. Then he looked at Sami. Sami felt a shiver of unease at John Smith’s unblinking gaze. John’s eyes reminded him of something…
“A psychologist?” John asked.
Sami nodded and smiled. “Yes, as I was saying…you never would have guessed, would you? He looks very intimidating at first blush but as soon as you talk to him, you see that–”
“Talk to him?” John asked, cutting Sami off. “Who has to talk to him?”
“No one
has
to talk to him, I just meant…
when
you talk to him, in general terms…he is very kind. Very thoughtful and insightful. I am sure that he is…was…good at his profession.”
John stared at Sami for so long that Sami became more and more uncomfortable. It was very rude, Sami thought, for someone to stare so forthrightly and without comment. What was wrong with this man? Candy was right. This John Smith was no shaken survivor with post-traumatic stress disorder as the rest of them seemed to be. In fact, this John Smith actually seemed very acclimated to this new world.
John Smith stood in one fluid motion and turned onto the bridge–the only way to get off the upper bridge deck. He didn’t say goodbye.
Sami took a deep breath, aware only now that he must have been holding it. He looked out to where Adam and Carl had been, but now they were gone, too. Sami took another deep breath. He would go and find Candy. That always made him feel better. She was his touchstone in all things.
He stood to leave but as he did, Adam came onto the deck with Carl.
Carl nodded and came forward, grasping both of Sami’s hands in his. “Dr. Rafiq. How are you? You look well.” His smile was small but very warm. Sami had the impression that under normal circumstances, Carl was most likely a very jovial person.
“Dr. Faifield,” Sami said. “I am well. I hope you are, also.”
“Just Carl, please, Dr. Rafiq,” Carl said, the smile widening. “And I’m good. Doing real well.”
“Sami,” Adam said, irritation evident in his voice. “Carl wanted to talk to John…wasn’t he just up here?”
“He left right before you came up,” Sami said, and in a flash it came to him that that was
why
John had left…to avoid Carl. But why?
~ ~ ~
“I think you should move into this room with me. Why do we care who knows of our relationship? There is no one here to disapprove.”
Candy sat in the small chair near the bed, putting her shoes on in preparation for the trek back to her own shared room behind the engines…formerly the crew quarters. It was late afternoon, but people went to bed early, now, setting with the sun to conserve resources.
She looked up.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sami,” she said.
When they had met, their bond was immediate and strong. But Sami’s family was conservative, and he was less than a year away from his arranged marriage. There was no way for him to pursue a relationship with Candy.
Candy’s family…the ones she still associated with, the
less
rabid ones…would never accept an Indian into the family. Candy knew that as well as she knew her name.
But their feelings were undeniable, so, they became each other’s secret. The relationship was only five months old when everything happened. It had been five months of hyper-sexualized excitement, tinged by Sami’s dissolving obsession with the Lazarus project. For Candy, the drug trials had become a moot point–her brother had lost his years long fight only weeks after she and Sami met in Philadelphia.
Neither of them contemplated a future for themselves, for being together, and sometimes Candy wondered if that was one of the things that stopped them from being more diligent about contacting the Lazarus doctors. Everything had seemed in a state of suspended animation. Days passed without acknowledgement. They couldn’t see a future for themselves, so they simply didn’t look in that direction.
She wondered how much that has contributed to Sami’s guilt.
“Why is it not a good idea?” Sami asked, swinging out of the bed. Some instinct of self-preservation seemed to demand that he not be naked for the conversation to come. He slipped into his underwear.
Candy shrugged. “It just…it will make us vulnerable. Do you see that?”
“No. It will make us stronger.”
You maybe
, Candy thought.
Not me
. She lowered her head into her hands.
“Candy,” Sami said, “I am not as fragile as you think I am.”
“I don’t think you’re fragile, Sami, I just think it makes us both more…if everyone knew we were together, then they could…use it against us somehow. I don’t know. I don’t know why I feel that way. I just do.”
“It will not make us vulnerable, it will make us stronger. We love each other, don’t we? That can only be a good thing. People will be happy for us.”
Candy was astonished at his naiveté. But maybe she was just too jaded, too harsh?
She shrugged again.
Sami drew her shoes from her feet, placing them side-by-side next to the chair. He took her hands and pulled her gently to standing and relieved her of the rest of her clothing. Then he guided her to the bed.
“We will stay together from now on.” He curled himself around her, drawing the light sheet over their shoulders. “We will have this one happiness. There is no reason for us to be separated. Not anymore.”
Candy shivered at his words. She knew that to ask for the good is to invite the bad.
There are always two shoes, after all.
~ ~ ~
“Why did he want to talk to me? Is he the one in charge?” John put an extra dose of innocence into his voice. He and Adam were on the bridge deck, overlooking the activities below them on the main deck. The sun was sinking into the scrubby pines at the shoreline.
Adam’s face soured. “
That
guy? Jesus Christ, no. No way. I guess if you had to say anyone was in charge of
Big Daddy
, then it would be Steve, but even Steve is more or less a manager. Under me.” He clapped John on the shoulder. He was able to do that because John had positioned himself on the deck, cross-legged, next to Adam’s chair. “He doesn’t need to talk to you. He can go fuck himself.” Adam ruminated. His hand rested on John’s shoulder.
John felt the weight of Adam’s hand, the disgusting, meaty heat coming from it, and he contemplated turning his head enough to bite it. He could practically feel the bone in Adam’s pinky finger breaking under his teeth, the hot blood slicking his chin. Just like the undead did. Man, that was fan-fucking-tastic to watch when they attacked someone. Better than Discovery Channel even.
But he controlled himself. He would bide his time. He had a good trick up his sleeve. Better even than the last time. A very interesting trick. He just had to work out the logistics.
“Carl isn’t anyone,” Adam said. “You know what? Fuck that guy for coming over here demanding this and demanding that.”
“Do you think…” John put a twinge of embarrassed consternation into his voice this time. An ‘aw shucks, could it be?’ tone. “Do you think they might be jealous of me?”
“Jealous of you? Why?”
John shifted, drawing himself millimeters closer to Adam’s chair.
“Because you’ve kind of…taken me in? Maybe they’re jealous that I get to hang out with you? They’ve all been here longer than me.”
A swell of hot pride suffused Adam’s face with blood. He really liked this guy.
He gets me
, Adam thought.
“Before…before all this.” Now John’s voice broke with emotion. “I was just a blue collar guy, you know? Just doing my thing every day, punching the clock. The other guys, they all hated management…really resented them, you know? They thought that they were all sit-on-their-ass-pussies while we did all the
hard
work.” John shook his head. “But I get it, now. This…” He gestured to the crowd below them. “This is the hard part…the decision making. The responsibility.” He turned to look at Adam, his chin tilted up in a posture of worship. “Their fates are in your hands. And they’re all too dumb to know it.”
Adam’s stomach tightened. His throat ached with tears.
Yes
, he thought to himself.
That’s just right. Their fates are in my hands
. He had no inkling that John Smith’s last two sentences were really John talking to himself.
“You know something?” Adam said, squeezing John’s shoulder. “I think they’re getting a little too big for their britches over there on
Big Daddy
and ThreeBees.”
“Maybe you should bring them all aboard
Flyboy
. Where you can keep a closer eye on them. They’d think twice about crossing you, then.”
Conflicting ideas ran through Adam’s mind. It would be good to scoop everyone up and bring them to
Flyboy
where he could keep a tighter rein, but at the same time–
His mind shied away from a difficult idea and settled on a more comfortable one: the resources. It was better to have the resources spread across the three ships. The idea made no rational sense, but it was an easier reason than the first one that had actually occurred to him…if Steve were on
Flyboy
, then somehow, he’d take over as its leader. People just flocked to the guy. It was unfair, but it was the way things had always been. Fortune favored the assholes.
He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe. I’ll have to give it some thought.” Adam didn’t see the look of annoyance that flashed through John’s eyes.
Sami appeared at the doorway to the bridge. He’d left Candy sleeping in his…their…room.
“Adam,” Sami said, glancing nervously at John Smith. It bothered him, the penitent’s position John had taken, sitting practically at Adam’s feet, his head lowered. “I wanted to speak to you. If you have a moment.”
Without turning, Adam raised a hand and flicked his fingers in a ‘come’ gesture. Sami looked around for another deck chair, but they have been moved. Intentionally? It’s a small deck, but still big enough for a handful of people to sit comfortably.
“Have a seat!” Adam said and gestured to the floor before him. “Sorry about the lack of chairs. I had John take them all below…so that everyone had a chance to use them down on the lower decks. I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to keep all the good stuff for myself, right?”
“No, of course not,” Sami said. “I am content to stand. It is no problem.”
Adam nodded in an exaggerated way.
“What did you want to talk about, Sami?” Adam asked. He found himself feeling annoyed with his friend, he wasn’t sure why. It was certainly irritating to have to stare up at him while he stood there like a…like a…like he was the boss or something.
“I thought we could perhaps speak in private,” Sami said, careful to keep a deferential tone. Adam heard it as dismissive.
His hand strayed to John’s shoulder. “John can stay.”
John’s head came up, the bandage over his split forehead shining whitely in the gloom. He smiled at Adam and the smile conveyed gratitude; maybe love, too. Sami felt a sharp twist of jealousy, irritation, and fear. His relationship with Adam had become complicated. Adam knew a lot about Sami, more than Sami would want anyone else to know. What if they ended up hating him for what he’d done. Hadn’t done.
Then he remembered his most important relationship, and that buoyed him.
“I am going to have Candy stay in my room with me. She is…we are…we’re a couple. We’re together.” Sami braced himself, raising his head and standing straighter.
Adam read it as arrogance. Blatant disregard for his opinion. His decisions.