When Gods Fail (7 page)

*

The next day I awoke to see her standing
over me. My eyes darted to her hands. They were empty. They grasped
her thighs, then each other. Something was bothering her.
Something. Of course, I thought, you've acted like a complete
animal. I got up and placed my hand on her shoulder. I wanted her
forgiveness. She didn't react to my touch, to my look, to my: "How
are you feeling today?" I almost wanted to reenact the previous
night, just to get some passion out of her. She stared at the bed
we had slept in, as if it were some ghost speaking to her. What was
it saying?

I pulled out some rations, divided them into
two, and handed her half. She took it and ate quietly. I looked
over at the bed again, and realized that it was covered with
blood.

Oh.

I could smell the sweet metallic blood. It
filled my nostrils and filtered down to my stomach. From there it
wormed its way to my heart, and I felt sick.

This was not the way it should've happened.
I should've earned her trust. But how? Was it supposed to be before
or after she found out I killed her family? Don't be a fool. This
was the only way. I remembered reading about ancient tribes, how
volatile their societies were, wrecked with violence. When they
vanquished their foes, they would murder all the men, and take the
women as chattel. A way to expand the tribe, to expand enjoyment,
and expand their genetic material. It had always seemed like the
wrong way to live; yet here in a similar situation it seemed like
the smartest route for me. There was no other way.

After I'd finished my meal, I looked at her
slowly chewing her food. It would take her a while, but she had to
accept reality. She had to stay here, and as far as I was concerned
this was my place. I'd won it. It was my choice whether she stayed.
I didn't say this as I surveyed the hut. There was plenty of floor
space, but no place to eat a meal on, or to study. A sheet of metal
lay on the floor. I grabbed it, scraping the packed dirt floor, and
I leaned it against the wall. I piled the ammo cans into three
separate but equal stacks and placed the sheet metal on them.

"This is our table," I said. "We will now
eat here." She was still staring at the bed, the blood. It didn't
seem right, as if she was in a shell. I walked to her and lifted
her chin. I wanted some recognition. She looked up at me, not with
fear, not with hate, but without a sliver of recognition.

My heart sank. I'd been a monster to her.
What was I thinking? Time, she needed time.

I walked back to the new table and pulled
out my map. I marked where we were, the cave, and approximately
where Bill and Paul lived. I remembered that I wouldn't want all
these places to be found by anyone with the map. So I picked a few
other random places and marked them with letters. Every third
letter was a legitimate site. I drank some water. It was horrid,
like urine.

"Where did they get this water from?" I
asked her. She looked at me then back at the bed. This was too
much. There was a world to rebuild, and she didn't seem to
understand that. I strode over to her with a great force in my
step. She jumped back, a startled deer, I grabbed the blanket, that
was almost stiff from the dried blood, and threw it outside. We
would deal with it later. For now I needed to get water. "Where did
they get water from?" I raised my voice.

She looked at me, fear in her eyes. "I don't
know. Some of it is from our piss."

I convulsed at the thought; then remembered
that it wasn't so bad: just water, some minerals, and ammonia. I'd
get real water today. Clean, clear, water, that she'd be amazed by.
She'd come around slowly. I was in the right here, I repeated in my
head. I walked out of the shack, gun in hand, backpack full of
containers, and a heavy weight in my stomach.

The walk to the cave was uneventful. The sky
seemed the same bleak nothingness that it had always been. A few
rays peeked out, but what I had considered wondrous was now
banal.

When I came back she was sitting in the same
chair.

She was taking this act too far.

"Are you ever going to get up and do
something?" I half-yelled.

She looked up at me. No words; looked right
through me in fact. Half of me wanted to plead with her, wanted to
ask for something from her mind, but the other half was willing to
drag her through this world, whatever the mood, without a care for
anything besides her sex. I pondered this, took her shape in, took
her mood in. I'd expected that she would have been more conceding,
that the way this world had affected everyone in it, including me,
was something she would have to get used to; adjust her little
moral world for, not the other way around. I would have to be
gentle during that adjustment period.

The water. She would appreciate that. I
walked over to her and poured some of the water into a cup. "Drink
that up, it tastes great," she looked at the cup, then me. As if I
was some monster. It hurt. Didn't she know what I'd been through?
"Try it," I said firmly.

She took the cup and drank it all, one gulp,
held out the cup for more. I poured more. She drank that up. I
poured more. She sipped, stopped and looked at me. "Any sign of pa
and Big Lee?"

Was that what was on her mind? Of course, I
should've been more understanding. She was my only companion in the
entire world. Universe. It was tough to think of it in that manner.
And to think that she was going to hate me made it worse. I wanted
to confess to her—as I stood there, staring at the abyss of
nothingness between us, with the thought that the previous night
had been complete evil, even though it'd felt good—that I wished I
could've taken it back. Not been a beast, a horrible man, an animal
that preys on young flesh. There was a kindness left in me. I was
still trying to find a way to her heart, and I contemplated falling
on my knees, confessing everything, telling her what had happened,
how I had been attacked, been ruthlessly targeted, for no reason.
But I didn't, she couldn't possibly understand. Besides, being firm
had worked so far. I had been honest the night before with that
wife. That's what got me in trouble. Use what she fears, I told
myself, use what she is frightened of and sooner or later she will
come to see that you are her only hope.

Oh hope.

"Jenny." I lifted her chin so her eyes had
to look at me, she stared downwards.

"The water was good," she whispered.

"Big Lee and Johnny." The truth was right
there, a scary proposition. One that was almost impossible, but
still called me to speak it. "I will start a search for them, but
you have to tell me everything you know. It will make it easier to
track them. All right?" The lie felt better.

She nodded her head. Her face impassive as
ever. I wasn't certain if it had inspired her.

"First, have you ventured out of here? This
shack?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"Listen, you want to find your family,
right?"

"Yes."

"Then you have to be more cooperative."

The look she gave me struck at my heart like
a knife.

Be strong.

"I know you must not like me right now, but
believe me," I said as I put on the most earnest face I could
manage. "I am trying to help."

Her eyes felt my face like a blind man's
hands. "Okay."

"Have you been outside this shack?"

"Only to look around, once."

"They didn't let you out?"

"They did, once it was safe. But that was
only a week ago," she said.

"How did they know it was safe?"

"Rats."

"Rats?"

"Yes, in a cage. At first we had to wear
suits." She pointed at some sinister looking plastic protective
suits on the wall, masks next to them. "The rats died from
something outside. Then they didn't." She shivered.

"Then they decided they could go out. They
let me take a look, but it scared me too much."

I nodded and reached for her hand, but she
shirked back from me. There was nothing between us. One step at a
time, I reminded myself.

"And did they find anyone when they started
to check things out?"

She shook her head.

"Do the names Bill and Paul sound
familiar?"

"Oh... They mentioned them. But they didn't
say much. Only that they were our neighbors. Not friends."

That was my in. "Anyone else?"

"No."

She still hadn't looked at my eyes. I would
have to get over that. "What about places for water, or food? They
mention anything that they found?"

She shook her head.

I raised my hand to my lips to make it look
like I was thinking. "I think I will try to find this Paul and
Bill. Then we'll see. You want to come out with me?"

"No. It scares me."

"And what about this." I waved my hand at
the inside of the shack. "This all you want to see everyday?"

"It's home."

A simple girl. And I'd taken her away from
it. Meaning was ripped from my actions.

I remembered Paul and Bill. I would have to
confront them. Sooner or later they would either come for me or
we'd run into each other at the water hole. Then it would be
trouble. Big Lee and Johnny had been right.

I thought about food, if we ever ran out I
could set traps for insects and rats. "What about the rats, did you
catch any recently?"

"No."

"Any reason?"

"Pa said they're dead too. That soon it
would be our turn."

Those words struck me harder than they
should've. I grabbed a rifle and two handguns and rustled through
the ammunition boxes for more bullets. Paul and Bill. I opened the
door and looked outside. Nothing. The sky was still covered in a
gray texture. Some rays pierced through. They didn't seem so
miraculous. I turned to her. "You know how to shoot?"

She nodded; her eyes were once again fixated
on where we had slept the previous night.

"You have a gun?" I asked.

She shook her head; she still refused to
look me in the eye.

"You want one?"

"No."

"Why not?" As I spoke I wondered if it was a
good idea to give her a weapon in her state. I could very well find
myself on the wrong side of the barrel.

"Why does it matter?"

Her dejection was contagious. In the back of
my mind I knew that she hadn't been like that when I first met her.
"Hey, I'll be back. I'm going to look for your family. Got it?"

She nodded. But that wasn't enough.

"Got it?" I said loudly.

That startled her and she looked up and once
again examined my face with her eyes. "Yes."

I don't know what I'd expected. For her to
look at me like what happened last night was an amazing event? That
we now had a connection? Yes I wanted that. If she didn't, she was
somehow a fool who couldn't see reality for what it was. I shut the
door behind me and locked it. It was for her own good.

I approached the cave slowly, hiding behind
rocks until I came to the mouth. I listened for some sign of life.
Nothing. I moved back to the satellite peak behind the cave and
looked in the direction of Paul and Bill's homestead. A line was
traced in the distant flat land. The sleds. Unless I watched this
path everyday there was no way I could get them. I entertained
leaving them alone. No, they were running low on food and would
soon be after me. This was no time to be weak. But I felt weak.

The land before me was desolate, a cemetery
more than anything else. No wonder Jenny had looked at it once and
stayed in the shack. She was more human than I.

Please. Don't. The words rang in my head. I
felt the shock of melancholy ripple through my body. Yet I had,
over and over again. Who was to blame? Surely it couldn't be my
fault? But the look Jenny gave me. What was that? I felt Coral's
ghost looking at me.

Silence. My thoughts got louder. What a
land. What fruits could it possibly bear? I let my hands catch my
face, as my head fell forward. I cried. Sobbed uncontrollably. It
was a pathetic show, but without anyone around it didn't matter. I
needed the release. Poor Jenny.

Big Lee and Johnny.

The other family.

All dead.

I'd massacred an entire family! Taken the
mother prisoner. She must have thought I was horrendous. A madman.
Taken advantage of a young woman. These thoughts circled around my
head like vultures, each taking their turn to dive. I tried to
shake them off. There was nothing anymore, I reminded myself, there
was no higher power, no group of peers to judge me. I was alone and
free. Besides, the blame could not be laid at my doorstep. I'd been
attacked each time. What else could I have done?

A weak wind picked up, blew dry air against
my skin. It was chilly, odorless. I wanted to see some weather.
Something other than the bleak everyday-nothing that I'd seen so
far. Then the wind whipped around, and I smelled flesh, body odor.
Not Jenny's sweet smell, but a dirty, grimy, manly smell. I looked
in the direction of the wind and stole a quick glance behind
me.

I cocked my head; the child of an echo
touched my ears. Someone was nearby. I pointed my rifle in the
direction of the noise. Silence again. My heart beat against my
lungs, almost worried me that it would make too much noise. My
stomach churned. It was as if my body was rebelling against another
encounter with people. At the same time my mind focused on the land
around me with a laser-like intensity. I felt invincible, as if
anything could come at me, and I wouldn't have flinched.

I saw one head appear, then a second one,
then the sleds behind them. They were halfway up the hill to the
cave. From their walk, movements, I knew it was Paul and Bill. I
wrestled with what to do. Carol and rebuilding a new world. But
there was also the wife and how I survived so far. My mind clicked.
The threat they posed now seemed greater than any existential
question I could ask myself. It was more important to have them
killed, and save myself, than to worry about how much anguish it
would cause me to kill them. They tried to kill me first. I
couldn't expect to find peace with them alive.