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Babylon
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Kurt stood slowly as Ennis unlocked his cell. Santana wasn't certain, but she thought she saw his knees shaking. She was sure that Ennis would only kill Kurt faster if she protested, and so even though she could feel a scream bubbling up from her chest, she didn't make a sound.
"Oh my God," Dani whispered beside her, barely audible.
Every bit of Santana's skin was freezing cold. For a second, she thought Ennis might abruptly bludgeon Kurt to death then and there, without bothering to take him out of the room. But, just as he'd done with Caleb, Ennis grabbed Kurt by the arm and dragged him from the cell.
"No!" Santana couldn't stop herself from shouting, beating a fist against the bars.
"Wait!" Kurt cried, his shoes skidding on the concrete. His free arm flailed, grabbing at nothing. "Wait, wait— WAIT!"
Ennis halted, his grip on Kurt's bicep tightening enough to bruise. "What's it going to be, kid? You've got three seconds."
Kurt swallowed, his jaw twitching.
Ennis flipped the bat in his hand, raising it to bring it down on Kurt's skull. "Tick tock."
Kurt's hands went up, palms bared. "Okay!" he said quickly. "Okay." He let out a shuddering breath, and even from where she stood Santana could see all the hairs on Kurt's arms standing on end.
"Was that a yes?" asked Ennis, keeping the bat dangerously high.
"Yes. I'll join."
Santana's heart skipped, and she hated that Kurt's back was to her and she couldn't see his face. Ennis looked at the girls over Kurt's shoulder.
"What about your friends?" he asked, the bat lowering.
"They're not my friends."
Santana's heart dove into her belly, cold blooming inside her chest as her blood pumped hot and burning into her hands and feet.
At that, Ennis looked genuinely surprised. "They're not?"
Kurt shook his head. "Of course not," he said, a little too smoothly. "I ran into them the day before you picked us up. We were both going the same way and we figured we'd stick together. Safety in numbers, right?"
Santana and Dani exchanged a terrified look. WHAT IS HE DOING?! The sudden thought that Kurt might actually abandon them in the interest of his own survival slammed into Santana like a truck, and her legs almost buckled beneath her.
Ennis didn't look like he fully believed Kurt's story. He may have been a brute, but Ennis was not an idiot. "I doubt that," he said.
Kurt huffed, then twisted in Ennis' grip to address the girls. "What's my name?"
Santana blinked, betrayal and hurt now mixing with confusion. "What?"
Kurt's eyes were grim, voice cold and unemotional. "You heard me," he said. "What's my name?"
"K-Kurt," answered Dani.
Kurt turned back to Ennis. "See? My name is Kyle."
Santana's breath caught in her chest like she was underwater. What the hell was Kurt playing at? What was he thinking?
Unlike Santana, Ennis seemed to finally buy Kurt's act. He let go of Kurt's arm, the baseball bat practically forgotten at his side. "Come with me," he said, heading for the corridor. Kurt fell into step behind him without so much as a glance to Dani or Santana.
Rage burst up from Santana's gut and she furiously slammed her hands against the bars. "HEY!" she shouted. "You can't just leave us here!"
Kurt stopped on his heel. He met Santana's gaze with a blank expression. "Yes, I can," was all he said before he followed Ennis down the hall and out of sight.
Kurt could barely hear his own footsteps over the roar of blood in his ears as he walked behind Ennis to the front entrance of the police station, his mind reeling. He didn't really know where anything he'd just said to Ennis had come from, except that all he could think about was not dying. He'd have to come back for the girls later, but at least this would buy them some time. They wouldn't have a chance of escape without getting an idea of the town's layout, and they couldn't do that from inside the cells. Kurt felt guilty for leaving Santana and Dani behind but it was better that Nick and Ennis believed they weren't together. After all, three people were more of a threat than one, and Kurt suspected that even though he was out of the cell, Nick wasn't about to let him roam around Nazareth completely unsupervised.
Ennis pushed through the station doors and into the blinding sunlight. The day was hot and dry, and within seconds Kurt was sweating. Fat clouds rolled across a brilliant blue sky and a light breeze ruffled Kurt's air. It was the first fresh air Kurt had gotten in three days, and he couldn't help but breathe deep.
"Come on," Ennis beckoned, leading Kurt away from the town square and down a street lined with former storefronts and the occasional cafe. As they walked, Kurt observed that most of the stores had been cleared of merchandise — he could see empty shelves and racks through the windows and in some cases even the furniture had been taken. It was clear there had been no looting. Doors and windows were left intact, the interiors methodically and calmly picked clean.
"Why are the stores empty?"
"Everything's a resource," said Ennis. "If it's useful, it's inventoried and rationed. If we can't use it, we usually burn it. Easier than collecting firewood."
While the stores were empty, the streets were not, and they were frequently passed by people who greeted Ennis by name. Kurt noticed that, just as when he and the girls had first been brought through the gates, the majority of Nazareth residents were men. Stranger still, many of them were carrying lidded buckets, like the kind builders would store plaster in.
"What's in the buckets?"
"Water," Ennis answered. "There's a small river about a mile east. We're working on an irrigation plan, but for now we have to carry it here. We collect rainwater too, but it's not enough for everyone."
Kurt hated to admit it, but he was impressed. Nazareth was the only place he'd seen since the blackout that didn't seem already dead or dying. Still, something nagged at him — why were there so few women?
Ennis led him around another corner to a huge white-steepled brick church in front of a park. The park's grass had almost entirely been ripped up and the ground turned back to soil. A dozen people (only three of whom were women) tilled the dirt with rakes and hoes. By the time Ennis and Kurt reached the church steps, a wave of lightheadedness swept over Kurt and tiny black pinpricks danced across his eyes. It was an abrupt reminder that he hadn't eaten in three days, and he silently hoped that Ennis would stop and let him sit down soon.
Inside the church, the pews had all been removed and replaced with tables and chairs, only a few of which were occupied with a handful of people finishing up their lunches. The stained glass windows cast little splashes of color across the carpeted floor. Besides the large crucifix hanging on the wall at the head of the church hall, there were no religious items or relics. There was no altar in the apse — only a long table laid out with trays of food. This wasn't a church, Kurt realized; it was a cafeteria.
But oh, God, food.
The smell of food slammed into Kurt's nose like a solid punch to the face, and his empty stomach immediately and painfully cinched in his gut. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten actual solid food — not just whatever scraps he could find. His mouth watering like a rottweiler, Ennis had to tap Kurt's shoulder to get his attention again.
Kurt shook himself out of his stupor, feeling like there was probably drool on his chin. Ennis led him to a table in the corner, away from the food. Nick was already seated there, again making notes on a legal pad. He had clearly just finished lunch, his used plate and utensils sitting to the side. As Ennis and Kurt approached, he put his pen down.
"Kid says he wants to join," said Ennis.
Nick nodded, smoothing his beard with a forefinger and thumb. "Good," he said to Kurt. "Have a seat."
Kurt sat, the dizziness swimming through his brain subsiding only slightly.
"Ennis, go get him a plate, would you?" Nick requested. "He looks like he's about ready to pass out."
Relief flooded Kurt's chest at the prospect of being finally fed. At this point he didn't care a bit what it was. As Ennis went to fill a plate, Nick flipped to a blank page on his notepad.
"Name?" he asked. "First and last."
Kurt blinked, and he had to stop himself from giving his real name out of sheer reflex. "Kyle Haskell," he replied.
Nick wrote it down. "Age?"
"Twenty." Kurt paused then, frowning. "Wait, do you know the date?"
"It's May twenty-sixth."
"Oh." Kurt suddenly felt like weeping childishly. "Then I'm twenty-one." His birthday had gone by nearly two weeks ago and he hadn't even noticed.
"Skills?" prompted Nick.
"What?"
"Any skills?"
Ennis returned then, setting a heaping plate of food and a large glass of water in front of him. His birthday suddenly all but forgotten, Kurt didn't bother asking for permission and hungrily dove in, shoveling food into his mouth with a spoon. There were mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and some kind of meat mixed with caramelized onions. A piece of dense, unleavened flatbread almost like a pita sat on top of the potatoes. It was simple and barely seasoned, but to Kurt he may as well have been dining at Buckingham Palace. It had been a month since he'd had a real meal so he couldn't be completely sure, but this may have been the best thing he'd ever tasted.
"Skills like what?" Kurt slurred through a mouthful of roasted carrots and parsnips. He tore off a chunk of the flatbread and used it to mop up the juices from the meat and onions.
"Anything," said Nick. "I need to know what you can do so I know where to place you."
"Um," Kurt said eloquently, gulping down his water greedily. He dug a string of meat from between his teeth with the tip of his tongue.
Nick decided to be a bit more specific. "Are you at all medically trained?"
Kurt shook his head, relishing the mashed potatoes.
"Can you hunt or shoot?"
"No."
"Do you know anything about farming?"
"No."
"Engineering?"
"No."
Nick leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against the table impatiently. "What can you do?"
"I can fix cars," Kurt said without really thinking. "My dad's a mechanic."
Ennis, leaning against the wall behind Nick, let out a barking laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure that'll be useful once the power comes back."
Nick scratched at his temple. "How about cooking? Can you cook?"
Kurt shrugged, then nodded. "Reasonably well, yeah." He had loved delving into the fancier recipes of Julia Child's books, but trying to make the perfect souffle was very different from the kind of cooking he was currently eating.
Nick made a note. "Let's think about it this way," he amended. "What did you do before the blackout?"
"I was a waiter," Kurt answered between chews. "And an intern at Vogue." He decided not to mention that he was also an acting student — it was probably not a good idea to let Nick and Ennis know that he was an excellent liar.
Nick frowned. "Vogue, the fashion magazine?"
"Yeah."
"Did you ever make the clothes yourself?"
"Not at the magazine, but I did a lot of my own clothes when I was growing up."
"We don't have anyone with tailoring experience, do we?" Nick said to Ennis.
Ennis shook his head. "Not off the top of my head, no."
Kurt was so focused on devouring the last of the potatoes that he barely noticed Nick's nod of approval.
"That's good, that'll come in handy," Nick said, writing on his notepad. "We aren't short on clothes yet, but clothes don't last forever and in a couple years we'll need that expertise. For now, though, we'll put you somewhere else."
"I want to learn to shoot," Kurt blurted out as soon as the idea popped into his head.
Nick's eyebrows went up, questioning.
Kurt scooped up the last of the meat and onions with the remainder of the flatbread. The chances of ever getting out of Nazareth were slim, but it would be easier if he knew his way around (and had access to) a gun. "I want to be useful," he lied. "If you teach me how to shoot, then I can help with guard duty and hunting."
"Don't be too over-eager," Nick advised. "Give yourself some time to settle in and build up your strength again. If you're still interested in a couple of days, then we can talk about shooting."
Kurt swallowed the last of his food, feeling like he was ready to burst. Nick was wisely cautious, not ready to give a deadly weapon to someone he'd threatened to kill only recently. Kurt would have to bide his time. He could only hope that Santana and Dani would hold out that long.
Santana furiously paced back and forth in her cell, practically vibrating with rage. How could Kurt just turn around and leave them behind? No warning, no discussion, just a quick lie and he'd flippantly tossed them aside like so much cheap trash. Santana decided that if — no, when — she got out of here, the first person she was going to kill would be Kurt. Nick and Ennis would be close seconds.
"Santana, would you please sit down?" Dani pleaded in exasperation. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall and her elbows resting on her knees.
"No," huffed Santana.
"Well, you're going to make yourself pass out," Dani retorted.
"How are you so calm about this?!"
"Because we don't know what he's doing!" Dani was more annoyed than anything else. "We don't know! Kurt is probably buying time so we can all get out of here. It's not like he had much of a choice. And even if that's not what he's doing, there's nothing we can do about it, so there's no point in working ourselves up."
Santana made a face and went back to pacing. Kurt had seemed pretty sincere to her. But, if Santana was being honest with herself, she wasn't all that sure of how well she knew Kurt to begin with. He wasn't with her like he had been with Rachel — the two of them had always seemed able to read each other's thoughts even if they occasionally hated one another. Santana had really only known Kurt for a few years, and for most of that time, Santana had either been just plain mean or had tortured him outright. It was entirely possible that Kurt had never even liked her in the first place.
She wondered how long it would be before Ennis returned with the bat to claim her or Dani. She didn't know what Dani would choose, but Santana didn't care that Kurt had left them. She wasn't going to say yes to these lunatics holding them hostage. There was no way.
Her mouth dry and dizziness washing over her, Santana finally sat on the cot.
"Told you you'd wear yourself out," Dani said, intently studying a crack in the ceiling.
Santana rested her head in her hands, waiting for the black spots in her vision to go away. "Do you really think he'll come back for us?"
Dani sighed, scratching her forehead. "Honestly, I don't know. You know Kurt better than I do."
Santana swallowed the lump in her throat, the cell feeling even smaller than it had to start with. She wasn't at all sure that was true.
God, she wished Rachel was here.
As it turned out, the sensation of being full was only pleasant for a short time, and Kurt quickly began to feel like he was going to vomit. Having been empty for so long, his stomach was now struggling to break down a heavy meal, and Kurt couldn't decide if he wanted to violently throw up or if he just wanted to go to sleep. The dizziness swept back in as his body worked to process the shock of food to his system, and he had to fight the urge to just put his head down on the table.
"Tomorrow I'll have you start in the gardens," said Nick as he stood up from the table. "For now, you should get some rest." Nick collected their dishes and deposited them in the bin at the end of the big table, then came back for his notepad. "Come on," he beckoned, tucking his pen behind his ear. "I'll show you where you'll be staying."
Kurt took a deep breath before standing up, his palms cold and clammy. His unhappy stomach twisted and shot a stabbing pain up into his chest. Trying not to retch, Kurt followed Nick and Ennis back out of the church and into the sunshine. Ennis made some excuse about having other things to see to and left, walking off toward the town square. Nick led Kurt down the church steps and through the park, the gardeners eyeing Kurt suspiciously as they passed by.
"Hold on," Kurt said, pausing to brace an arm against the corner of a building once they'd crossed the street on the other side of the park. "I just… need a sec."
"Take your time," Nick said, waiting patiently for Kurt's nausea to pass.
Kurt took a few deep breaths, wiping sweat from his forehead, and then a horrific thought occurred to him. "That… that food I just ate," he asked. "What kind of meat was that?"
Please don't say human, please don't say human, Kurt prayed, desperately hoping this was not the explanation for the lack of women in Nazareth. He also had no idea what Ennis had done with Caleb's body.
Nick frowned at him, understanding what Kurt was really asking. "You must have watched too many zombie movies," he said. "It was venison. Trust me, we are nowhere near desperate enough to consider something like that." He sounded offended that the thought would even cross Kurt's mind. "Your body just needs to get used to real food again, that's all."
Kurt was only somewhat reassured. "Okay." He straightened up again, letting out a slow exhale. "Okay, I think I'm good."
He followed Nick two more blocks from the church and was surprised to discover their destination was a long, squat single-floor school building. The sign out front declared it was NAZARETH PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL, and Kurt noted that it was the only place in town where there didn't seem to be any people. For a moment, Kurt wondered if Nick was planning on taking him to a secluded place and killing him anyway, but if that were the case there wouldn't have been any point in talking to or feeding Kurt at all, and Nick was not the type to waste his own time.
"What's with the school?" Kurt asked as Nick pulled open the main door and allowed Kurt inside.
"About half of our people stay in the school," Nick explained, his voice echoing slightly as the door shut behind him. "It was best to consolidate to the center of town so everyone wasn't so spread out. Easier to manage, easier to protect. Anyone who's not married stays here."
"What about the married people?"
"Some of them have set up in a hotel about a block away. Others have taken a handful of the offices here in the school. If they've got kids, they get an apartment near the square."
"What about you?"
"I'm not married and I don't have kids. I stay here."
Inside the school, the layout consisted of the main entry hall with offices at the back, and two big corridors branching off in either direction. Each corridor had classrooms only along the rear side, while the walls toward the front of the school were entirely windows looking back out to the main road, allowing for plenty of sunlight. Many of the classroom doors were left open, and as Nick led him down the west corridor, Kurt could see that all of the normal features of a classroom had been removed. The desks were gone, along with any textbooks that may have occupied the bookshelves. Now, any shelves in the rooms housed people's personal belongings — mostly clothes and toiletries with the occasional novel. The desks had all been replaced with twin-sized beds and cots, which had all presumably been dragged from homes outside the new Nazareth perimeter, as well as a small bureau or two. Under any other circumstance, Kurt would have balked at the idea of sharing a room with strangers, but right now he had bigger things to focus on.
Nick stopped at the sixth classroom down the hall. "You'll be in this one," he said.
Kurt stepped inside, finding five beds spread out through the room, a bookshelf and a small chest of drawers to one side. There were also various cupboards attached to the wall. Two of the beds sat unclaimed with no linens, and Kurt chose the one in the furthest corner.
"Sheets and blankets are in the cupboards," Nick said, leaning against the doorframe.
"Why is no one here right now?" Kurt had to ask.
"It's Monday," Nick replied as if it was obvious. "People are working."
"Oh." Kurt had all but forgotten the normal work calendar. For the past month there had been no use for it. He went to the cupboard and pulled out some fresh linens, unable to totally conceal how relieved he was to have clean sheets and an actual bed.
"Latrines are out back behind the school," Nick said. "Curfew is at dark, and once curfew hits the only reason anyone should be outside is if they're on guard duty or they're using the latrines. No exceptions."
Kurt frowned. "Why is there a curfew at all?"
"Safer that way," was the only explanation Nick offered. "Another thing — no stealing. That applies to personal items and public rations. We have an absolutely zero tolerance policy."
"Okay." Kurt was pretty sure he already knew what 'zero tolerance' looked like, and he had no desire to tempt that.
Nick scratched the back of his head. "I think that's it. Any questions?"
"I don't think so," Kurt said as he pulled the sheet over the corners of his mattress.
"Get some rest, then," Nick said, and promptly left Kurt alone.
Kurt quickly finished making his bed, fighting another bout of nausea as he had to bend over with his still-full belly. Once he was done, he laid down and stared at the ceiling as he tried to finish digesting. He hated to admit it, but Nick made a convincing case for Nazareth. Kurt could see why it would be a smart decision to stay — at least, for some.
But the strange unbalance of the town being mostly men, and the fact that Ennis had been more than willing to kill Kurt just a short while ago still weighed on him. He couldn't allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of security, and he knew he was still in danger here. He also didn't know how long the girls had before they were given the same ultimatum, and he could feel the clock ticking.
His brain swimming and his belly full, however, Kurt wasn't able to keep his eyes open for more than a few minutes, and soon he had fallen into a deep, deep sleep.
When Kurt finally woke, it was dark and the only sound was someone snoring. He rolled over, groggy and forgetting for a minute where he was before the memory of the previous day came rushing back. Rubbing his eyes, he sat on the edge of the bed and blinked in the bright glow of the full moon flooding through the classroom windows and across the floor. The other three beds were now occupied — Kurt recognized Mack and Javi, and in the third bed slept a blond boy about the same age as Kurt (maybe a bit younger). Javi was snoring loudly, his arm hanging off the side of his bed. Kurt thought it was probably not a coincidence that he was staying in the same room as Mack and Javi, who Kurt was fairly certain had been instructed to keep an eye on him.
Now, it occurred to Kurt, would likely be the best time for him to explore the town and attempt to find an escape route before anyone else woke up. The moon was still high in the sky and dawn was a long way off — and most importantly, Mack and Javi looked like heavy sleepers.
Kurt slipped his shoes on as quietly as he could, then tiptoed toward the door. Sliding silently into the hallway, he turned to head for the building's main entrance, then abruptly stopped in his tracks. The hairs on his arms stood erect and the pit of his stomach went cold.
Nick was standing at the end of the hall, outside the first classroom.
Kurt swallowed and stepped more fully into the corridor, knowing that Nick had already seen him and if he suddenly turned and went back to his room he would look suspicious. Nick leaned against the wall, staring out the windows across the streets outside. The moonlight refracted in through the glass and made the entire corridor glow a soft blue.
"What are you doing up?" Nick asked.
"I couldn't sleep," Kurt lied.
"Me neither."
Kurt didn't know what to say to that.
Nick tugged on his earlobe in thought. "Where were you heading again?"
"Montana," answered Kurt, feeling awkward. He didn't know how to get out of this conversation without making Nick think he was up to something.
"I assume you were trying to find your parents."
Kurt nodded. "Yeah. Well, my dad. My mom died when I was a kid." He wanted to keep up the lie, but it was always easiest to lie when sticking close to the truth. If he lied about everything, he wouldn't be able to keep it all straight and he knew he would eventually slip up.
"And now you're staying here," Nick said. It sounded more like a question than a statement.
"Like you said, it's the big picture," Kurt replied, bile rising in his throat. "The long-term." He leaned his back against the opposite wall. "Do you have family somewhere?"
Nick shrugged. "My mother lives down in Florida."
"Why don't you go there?"
"She's eighty-five and has dementia. If she's not dead already, she would be by the time I got to Virginia."
"And you're okay with that?"
"Everyone has to die sometime," Nick said hollowly.
"You don't want to know for sure?"
"Knowing whether my mother is alive is a short-term problem." Nick crossed his arms over his chest. "The work I'm doing here in Nazareth, building this community — that's long-term."
Kurt struggled to mask how much that thought disgusted him. "Yeah, I see what you mean."
"Are you at all worried about your dad?" Nick was watching him closely, scrutinizing, as though he was carefully testing Kurt's answer.
"Of course I am, but…" Kurt forced himself to shrug, looking up at the ceiling. "He's got a bad heart. He's probably dead. There's no point in going home if all I find is a grave marker."
It was the worst thing he'd ever said, Kurt decided. Guilt coiled up in his gut like a snake waiting to strike.
Miraculously, he'd kept his voice steady, and Nick seemed satisfied with the response.
"It's late," Nick said. "You should try to get some more sleep before tomorrow."
Kurt nodded, eager to get away. He returned to his room, where he lay awake for the rest of the night, wondering if he'd ever be able to forgive himself.