October 15, 2004
My knee-high combat boots tighten as I finish tying the laces. My legs dangle off the cot, and I take a deep breath. After I got Evie ready early this morning, Martha offered to take her for a walk. Her offer granted me twenty extra minutes of relaxation, something that has been far and few between the past few weeks.
"You finally ready?" Nick jokes from his spot on the floor. He's sprawled out, with his hands crossed behind his head. He takes up most of the floor space in the tent. "You've been wearing those boots for almost ten years now, and it still takes you forever to lace them up."
I nudge him with my foot. "They have a zipper so technically I don't actually have to lace them up. I just like to make sure they're nice and snug, so I readjust the top laces. Loose boots could lead to a rolled ankle, you know?"
"Safety first." He laughs, stands, and plants a kiss on my cheek. "My mom is probably about done with her walk. That was nice of her to offer. I think she's worried about Pete."
With winter fast approaching, Bill asked for people with any hunting experience. Pete volunteered and so did George, one of the new guys. Alvin didn't have any hunting experience, but he tagged along with them to watch their backs, as did Tavia. Arthur had hunting experience and wanted to go, but decided to hang back here to spend time with us. Hopefully they will be successful with their venture. We have enough dry goods and vegetables from the greenhouse to last us through the winter, but it would be nice to have some fresh meat before the winter gets too harsh.
"Pete, Alvin, George, and Tavia can hold their own, but I understand that she's worried. She hasn't been away from Pete in a long while. Lord knows how freaked out Luke was when we left earlier this month," I say.
We emerge from our tent, the pen feeling empty. Vince, Russell, Wyatt, Bonnie, Shel, and Becca moved out last week. They still come back to visit pretty often, but they are quite busy now that most of them are officially guards. Their absence quite obviously caused a rift in everyone's moods and demeanors. This change in demeanor is most obvious with Luke, Nick, and Carlos, who are being quite vocal with their desires to permanently leave the pen. With each day that passes, I grow more and more certain that we will remain in the pen forever.
In a rare act of kindness, Bill has been giving some of us a bit more time off because of everything we've accomplished lately. With my leadership, the catch-all room was cleared out and became the storage room. It is now organized, with everything easy to find. The solar panels are up and working now, too. It took three days of nearly constant work spread out between me, Luke, Nick, Pete, and Jerry, but we were able to figure it out after a slew of errors. They aren't much, but they are enough to keep some of our essentials up and running.
Currently, a chicken coop is being built on the roof with supplies from our run to the mall. A few days ago, one of the workers managed to gash his forearm and pull his arm out of the socket. I walked the guy to the medical station, so Carlos showed me how to give stitches and put an arm back in its socket. If the need ever arises, I should know how to do both procedures, though I hope I never have to test that skill.
"Hi!" I greet Martha and Evie as they come in through the open gate of the pen. "How was your walk?"
"Good," Martha says. "It seems like we have more guards now than we could ever need."
"Tell me about it," Nick grumbles with an eye roll as he takes Evie into his arms.
"What are you two up to on your day off?"
"We're going to start off by giving Evie a bath. After that, I'm not really sure."
Martha smiles. "Sounds good. If you need me, I think I'll be working on that puzzle with Sarah."
She walks off and takes a seat at the table we brought back. Sarah, who was sitting down and working on a puzzle, looks up delightedly at the fact that someone has joined her.
Nick and I make our way to the bathrooms, stopping on the way to talk to Dorothea. She's weak and wobbly, and she's been using a walker the past week or so. She's chalked it up to be her older age catching up with her, but I'm not so certain. Out of concern, I tried to talk to her about talking to Carlos, but she isn't budging.
Vince is standing guard outside the bathrooms when we arrive. He greets us with a smile, but when he flits through the pages on his clipboard, his face drops. "Sorry, but Nick you've already had your shower for this week. I can't let you in."
Nick looks between us, his brow furrowed. "I'm not here to shower. We're just giving Evie a bath."
"Listen, I'm really sorry, but I can't let you in there again this week."
Nick opens his mouth to speak irritably, but I step forward and stop him. "Are you sure you can't just make an exception-"
"No, Bea," Vince cuts me off, his tone stern. "My first day on the job, I accidentally let someone in for their second shower in a week, and look what happened to me." He points to a fading bruise surrounding his eye. I had noticed it when it happened, but I hadn't thought anything of it. At the time, I didn't want to be nosey. Now, I just feel awful for not asking him.
"Vince, I'm sorry I didn't know-"
"Bill might be in love with you, but he's not in love with the rest of us," Vince says, his face placid.
For a moment, it feels as if my heart stops.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean," Nicks snaps from beside me. He's fuming with anger until Evie's coos and babbles bring him back. A perturbed expression remains on his face, still.
I pull myself back down to reality. I need to resolve this now, otherwise it's going to cause major issues. "Vince, he doesn't love me. I'm sure you've just misunderstood something-"
"No, Bea. I've seen it. At our meetings, he always brings you up, and I've barely been there a week. I asked one of the other guards who's been here longer, and he said that Bill has been talking about you basically every day since you've been here. You ever wonder why you get special treatment? Why he lets everything slide for you, and only you?"
Of course I've wondered. I have thought about it quite a lot, actually. I just chalked it up to the fact that maybe Bill had taken a liking to me in a non-romantic (or God forbid, sexual) way. Maybe I reminded him of an old friend, or a niece, or hell, maybe even a daughter that no one knew about. I thought maybe he just went easy on me because I had a kid, and that Evie was really the one that got the special treatment-that I just got it by default. How could I have been so naive, so stupid?
"I knew I got bad vibes from that dude. Everytime I caught him staring at you, I knew I wasn't imagining it," Nick says.
It's hard for me to believe there is a world where Nick thought he saw someone staring at me and he didn't mention it. I take Evie from him and offer to give her a bath by myself. "We can figure this out afterward, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding-"
"Whatever," Nick says. He turns sharply on his heels and goes back down the stairs. He always wants to turn away from his personal turmoil instead of talking it out. I can't say I blame him right now. If I had it my way, I'd turn around and go fall into a metaphorical hole. But I have a major responsibility, so I can't afford to have it my way.
"Whatever, you have to tell yourself," Vince mutters to me as I cross through the threshold of the bathrooms. He goes back to learning against the wall.
I spend the better half of the next hour bathing Evie. She's unusually fussy today, and I'm numb the whole time. A million things hang heavy on my shoulders, weighing me down, smothering me.
The front of my shirt is drenched by the time I finish. On the way out, I note that Vince is no longer the guard stationed at the door. I make my way back to the pen with Evie, who is back to her usual happy self.
Nick bombards me the second I get to the pen. At first, I wish he would not approach me because I honestly don't know what to say to make the situation better in any way. But when he opens his mouth, I'm pleasantly surprised.
"So…" He stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. Is there a hint of nervousness in his demeanor?
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stormed off like that. You haven't done anything wrong," he says.
I smile, and for a brief moment I'm happy. I thank him for apologizing, but then the various emotions that the events of this morning brought on make their appearance. Just like that I'm back to square one, but I can't dwell on it. That's how life is now. There is no time to dwell, only time to make a plan.
"Have you told Luke yet?" I ask. Evie plays with a lock of my hair.
"No. I thought he'd freak out, so I figured it was best to wait."
"Good," I say. "We won't tell him. Not yet."
I need more time to think about how to deal with the situation before I let Luke in on it. Though, I still haven't told Luke or Nick about how Bill is keeping us in the pen because we don't follow directions without questioning. I hope that I can discover a way to address both of these situations before everything goes downhill in a fiery blaze.
"So what is your plan?" Nick asks.
"I'll just avoid Bill indefinitely until we can figure something else out."
He sighs, like he doesn't believe it's a good plan-and it's not. But we don't really have many options and I am out of ideas. The idea of leaving this place altogether seems too far-fetched.
"Bea?" Calls a voice from outside the pen. I answer to find it to be Jerry, who has an assignment for me. I feed Evie first, before leaving her with Nick and following Jerry to my surprise job for today.
To my surprise, Jerry leads me outside of the compound altogether. Since we've been here, I've only been able to experience the open air a few times, most of which occurred on the roof. I would say it's nice to get some fresh air, but fresh isn't exactly how I'd describe it. There's a burn pile of bodies on the other side of the parking lot. The bodies are blackened and charred. The pile is still smoking ever so slightly, and the wind is conveniently blowing the smell of burnt flesh directly into my nostrils.
"What are we doing out here?" I turn my back to the burn pile, hoping it will curb the smell in the slightest.
"There's a couple of places along the perimeter that need some patching up. I have these boards cut and ready to be put up with some nails," Jerry says, his wire-frame glasses perched on the end of his long nose.
I get started without any other prompting. I take some of the plywood planks from the sawhorse where Jerry cut them. I don't have anywhere else to put them, so I place some extra nails in the pockets of my jeans and hoodie. I start placing the boards up anywhere that looks like a possible breach point. I hammer them into place, mindful not to make too much noise to attract any lurkers. Thankfully, the parking lot had been cleared this morning, and it doesn't seem like any more wandered here in the time being. I'm nearly finished with this entire side of the compound when I notice one more spot that could use an extra board. It's around the corner of some extra fencing that was recently put up. Bill has this new grand idea to expand the compound and utilize the neighboring stores as well whenever we get some more supplies. Bill. Just thinking of his name makes me shudder right now.
I round the corner of the fencing and begin patching up the open spot. Jerry started on one of the other exterior walls, so I estimate that we're probably about half way done by now. Before I can get the first nail hammered into the wall, something grabs my ankle. The sudden pressure startles me, and I drop the board, hammer, and nail. Both the board and the hammer fall onto my foot. Excruciating pain shoots through my nerves as I yelp. I fall backward to see a lurker with no legs grasping onto my ankle with an iron grip. One of its front teeth breaks off in an attempt to gnaw at the sole of my foot. My skin thankfully stays intact due to the rubber and leather of my boots. I can't kick it off of me, so I swing forward and put an end to its attempts. It ceases movement, and I use my knife to peel the corpse's fingers from my ankle. I stand and examine my feet. My boots don't have a scratch on them, my feet, on the other hand, will probably be bruised to hell by nightfall.
I gain my balance despite the pain just as Jerry and Bill are rounding the corner of the fencing. They're both demanding to know what happened. Jerry is out of breath.
"Must've drug itself through the parking lot overnight and no one noticed this morning when they took care of the others. I'd assume this one became a lurker within the last week or so," I say. Despite the missing limbs, the corpse itself looks fresh, like it recently turned into the undead. It's sad to think that someone could've died so horribly so close to safety.
"What the hell is she doing out here?" Bill turns to Jerry and raises his voice. "I told you no dangerous jobs for her!"
Fear spreads across Jerry's face, and he scrambles to compose an answer. "Well she went on the run earlier this month, so I just thought-"
"Stop babbling like an idiot." Bill interrupts.
"It's really okay-" I start.
In a swift motion, Bill rips Jerry's glasses off of his face. Jerry stutters in confusion before Bill punches him square in the face. My eyes grow wide in shock. Jerry falls to the ground clutching his face. A little trickle of blood drips down his lip.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!" I run up to Bill and shove him.
He doesn't even glance in my direction, and my shove does little to disrupt his current position. He forcefully yanks Jerry to his feet. He shoves his glasses back on his face. "Fuck up again, and I'll bust your face in and ruin your glasses."
October 19, 2004
A copy of Grimms' Fairy Tales lies open on my lap as I lean forward to pull Evie back onto the carpet. At seven months old, she crawls faster than most babies do at a year old. It's growing increasingly difficult to keep her contained in one area. She wants to crawl anywhere and everywhere. When Nick and the others get back later I'll put down blankets on the floor and let her crawl wherever her little heart desires. But for now, I want her to remain on the large carpet as opposed to the filthy concrete.
"Why are you reading that to her if she won't remember it?" Sarah asks as she approaches the carpet and plops down. Sarah has spent a lot of time with me since I haven't been scheduled for a job since the incident with Jerry. I suppose he's been too scared, and I haven't bothered him to ask. But I have been thankful for Sarah's company, and I believe she's thankful for mine as well. Sarah is really good with Evie.
"It helps keep her entertained, and it will help her when she learns to start talking," I say.
"Awesome," she says with a smile, leaning forward to stop Evie from escaping the carpet yet again.
Luke enters the pen and plops down in a seat beside the carpet, fatigue evident in his face. "I'm off for the rest of the day, thankfully. I could barely keep my eyes open. It's hard getting good sleep in here between the dropping temperatures and the uncomfortable wooden planks that Bill refers to as 'beds.'"
Both of our faces drop at the mention of Bill, while Sarah remains enthralled by Evie's thwarted attempts to escape the carpet. After the incident between Bill and Jerry a few days ago, I told the adult members of our group about it. I also mentioned Vince's outburst to Luke. Luke and I had agreed: there had to be some kind of misunderstanding. There had to be. But I think the both of us know that it's just wishful thinking.
Since then, no one has seen Bill. He hasn't been around the dining hall, the work sites, or anywhere else for that matter. Murmurs around the compound have even said that they haven't seen him go to his room at night, which means he's been sleeping in his office. To me, I think it's a good thing. The better I can avoid him, the less likely we are to have to leave this safe place and venture back out into the uncertainty of what lies beyond here.
Next Bonnie walks in. She's become pretty high up around here pretty quickly. "Hiya, Bea! I was wondering if I could have your help with a job? It won't take but just a minute."
"Sure," I say, fixing the little cap on Evie's head. She hates the thing and tries to pull it off any chance she gets, but it's getting cold and she needs it.
"I'll watch Evie," Luke says.
"And I can read to her!" Sarah says, grabbing the book from me.
"Thanks, guys, I'll see you later."
"Bye, Luke." Bonnie smiles shyly, a faint blush upon her cheeks.
After doing the duty that took literally just a minute, Bonnie and I sit talking for a few minutes before she will be whisked away to do something else. We mostly talk about the compound and everything that has been going on lately. I'm happy when she doesn't mention Bill at all.
The conversation winds down as I finish telling a story about Luke. Bonnie finishes laughing about what I've said when she speaks, "Luke sure is quite the looker… ain't he?"
I make a noise similar to that of someone who is vomiting. It's an automatic response, and I'm not sure if the response was theatrical or if I'm actually close to vomiting.
"What's that all about?" She says with a laugh.
"You just called my brother hot. I don't like to think of my brother as hot. And believe me, I had to hear it constantly in high school." Did she ask me to help her just to talk about my brother?
"Would you rather me call him ugly instead?"
"No, I would chew you out if you did that. You can think that he's… hot." I can barely manage to get the word 'hot' out. "But I just can't stomach hearing about it."
She sighs dreamily. "Well I definitely can't help thinking it. You two have a great sibling relationship, though. That's something to be proud of, especially these days."
I smile and we part ways. I decide to grab some clean clothes from my tent and make my way up to the showers while Luke is still offering to watch Evie for me. Inside the bathroom, Dorothea is sitting on the bench part of the walker she has been using to get around recently. She's peering into the mirror, dragging a hairbrush through her white curls.
I want to greet her excitedly, but when she pulls the hairbrush away from her scalp, she stares down at it with a sullen look.
"Dorothea?" I ask cautiously.
She notices my presence and makes an effort to perk up, but the attempt doesn't go very far. "Oh… these days I'm not very well. I had to be practically drug up the stairs."
Approaching her from behind, I see the hairbrush sitting on her lap. Thin white hairs twirl between the bristles of the brush. I notice that I can see her scalp through her hair much more than I could a few days ago.
"How long has your hair been thinning?" I ask, hoping that it's not an inappropriate question to ask. But Dorothea and I have become close, so I think we're past that.
"A few weeks ago I first noticed it. It started very gradually, so I thought maybe it was just me getting old. But it hasn't stopped, and it's only getting worse. I've been trying to hide it from Lora-so she doesn't worry, you know? But I think I'm past being able to hide it."
"You could see Carlos?" I offer.
"Maybe, but I don't think there's much you can do for an old lady like me."
"Hi!" Lora hurriedly bursts through the door with a bright smile on her face. "You all done?"
"Yes, dear." Dorothea discreetly shoves the hair brush into my hand before Lora sees it, although all the evidence that Lora needs is visible on Dorothea's head. I pocket it anyway; I'll return it to her later.
"Seeya, darling," Dorothea waves goodbye, weakness evident in her voice despite her attempts to fool me. Lora helps her drag her walker and herself out the door.
Now alone, I step into the shower stall and strip from my clothes. I carefully step into my rubber flip flops so that my bare feet don't touch the floor. Lastly, I hang my bag on the hook on the door. Thankfully the hook is away from the stream of water so that my bag doesn't get drenched, even though the shower stall is such a tightly enclosed space. I shower and adhere to the ten minute time limit, despite the fact that it's not a requirement for me.
After I dry off as well as you can in a tiny space, I redress in clean clothes and head out to the main area to deal with my hair. After just a moment, I hear the water stream end in a shower stall that I heard become occupied shortly after I started my shower. The reflection of the mirror shows Dean- one of the guys I found in the woods a couple weeks back-emerging from one of the shower stalls. A beige towel hangs extremely low on his hips, not leaving much to the imagination. I stay focused on my hair, not expecting him to strike up a conversation. To my surprise, he places himself directly to my side.
"Shower shoes." He points. "Fantastic idea. I wish I would have thought to bring a pair. They got me through my Bachelor at Vanderbilt."
His starting of a conversation surprises me. It's not that I don't like talking to him, but we haven't talked much since he came here. He seems kind of quiet and mysterious, actually. He always smiles and waves at me in the pen, but rarely converses. I guess maybe he's come out of his shell.
"You went to Vanderbilt?" I ask, curiosity laced in my voice.
"Yeah, I was actually a grad student in my senior year when this all started."
"Oh, so you're about my brother's age?"
He laughs. "Well, that depends. How old is your brother?"
"He'll be twenty-six next month."
"I took a few undeserved gap years in between my Bachelor and PhD. I'm twenty-nine."
He waits for a moment, as if he's expecting some kind of response. It takes a second, but I notice what he wants. "Oh, I'm twenty-three. I went to a little school for my Bachelor so I could live at home and commute. I was getting ready to start grad school at Clemson, but I didn't get the chance to start."
"What were you pursuing?" He asks.
"I wanted to be a psychiatrist," I answer, and as much as I love conversing with my fellow neighbor, I really wish he would either dry off and put some clothes on, or back up a few steps. I decide I'm finished with my hair, and I make my way to a nearby bench to start putting on my socks and boots.
"Seriously? Me too!" He says excitedly while following me over to the bench, still half naked.
"That's really awesome." I slip my left boot on and start adjusting the laces.
"Yeah, I think we have a lot in common," he says, and I quirk my eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
"Well there's the psychiatry thing, and we both have similar styles. I mean, you've got the combat boots, the dark colors, the flannels. We're both got more of a grunge style as compared to the others."
"Yeah, I suppose." He does usually wear beanies, dark denim jackets, and the like. I wouldn't necessarily say my style is strictly 'grunge,' especially these days as fashion statements are becoming increasingly more difficult. But I would definitely lean toward alternative fashion, especially before the apocalyptic days.
Nick comes through the door with a bucket of cleaning supplies and rubber gloves. From the second I see him, I can tell he's going to be upset. As suspected, he notices Dean and I and makes a face leaning toward sour.
At the sight of Nick, Dean heads off. "I like to change in the back changing room as opposed to the shower stall. They're so cramped, you know? Well, it was nice talking to you. See you later, Bea."
Dean makes his way to the changing room so swiftly that I'm surprised when his towel doesn't hit the floor as he walks.
"Hey, babe," I greet Nick. "You on bathroom cleaning duty again?"
"Yeah," he deadpans. "What's his deal?"
"He was just talking to me I guess. The towel thing was kind of weird, though."
"Kind of weird? Dude basically had his dick out. After I let Bill staring at you go, I don't trust this dude. I can't trust this dude." His voice trembles at the end as if he's so passionate about it that he could cry. It shocks me, because Nick barely cries. Or should I say he never lets anyone see him cry.
I stand and rub his arm. "Hey, you know I would never cheat on you, right?" We never got to have a talk like this pre-apocalypse since we were never officially together then.
He sighs. "Yes, I trust you. I just don't trust others. Not anymore."
I pull him down for a kiss just as Dean is slipping out the door. Nick says, "I better get started. It'll take a bit."
I leave him be with a frown. He's been so busy the past few days.
When I exit the bathroom, the first thing I see is Wyatt frantically trying to stash a blunt he was just smoking. I laugh. "Wyatt, you know I don't care about that. I'm not going to tell anybody."
"Oh, yeah, thanks. Since you don't have to sign in I didn't realize anyone else was in there, and I figure Nick will be in there a while." His body relaxes.
"It's no problem." I begin to walk away, but I stop and ask, "Where did you even get that?"
"Before I came here I found this house that must've been a grower or maybe a dealer. He had some blunts pre-rolled inside, and a potted plant outside that managed to survive all this time. I grabbed it so that I would never run out again as long as I could keep the plant alive. When Tavia found us and brought us here, Vince convinced me to leave it behind so that we wouldn't cause any issues here and get thrown out. Biggest mistake of my life. Anyway, I saved the pre-rolls and I've been scarcely using them since. I'm trying to make them last as long as possible. Hey, do you want some?"
I smile. "No thanks. I can't because of the baby."
"Oh, yeah," he says, realization dawning on his face.
I start to walk down the stairs, and I get about halfway down before Wyatt speaks out again, "Oh by the way, Bill was looking for you."
I freeze. The color drains from my face. My stomach drops. My heart leaps. "Wh-What?"
"Yeah, he just wanted you to come by his office or something. I don't really know what he wants."
Wyatt goes back to his blunt, completely unfazed. My descent on the stairs is shaky. I don't want to see Bill. I could go tell Nick or Luke, but I've already realized that Bill can be dangerous if you set him off. If he wants to see me in his office, and I show up with another person, who knows what could happen to the both of us. It might not be safe for me to go to Bill's office without letting anyone from the pen know where I am. I can't go to the pen and tell anyone where I'm going because then they'll prevent me from going, and that could be another potentially dangerous issue altogether. I make my decision that I must go alone and I must go now. I've been gone long enough that the people in the pen are probably starting to wonder where I am. If I'm gone too much longer, people will start looking for me, but hopefully it doesn't come to that.
As I walk, I pass by George and Alvin deep in a humorous conversation. I'm glad they became fast friends, and any other time I would stop and talk to them, but I feel so sick to my stomach right now. For my own sake, I keep walking with my head down. I pass Sofia too, who waves at me with a smile. It's the first time I've seen her since she moved in with her uncle, but my body can do nothing to greet her except for a small, pitiful wave.
I reach the stairs that lead to Bill's office. I begin to climb them, feeling like an inmate about to face my execution. Bill opens the door when I'm a third of the way up the stairs and I flinch.
"Hello, Bea. I've been waiting for you."
I slip past him and take a cautious seat in one of the chairs in his office.
"Relax. Don't act so scared."
I don't relax.
"You're safe. I would never hurt you."
I don't believe him.
He sighs a gruff and angry sigh. He moves toward a large wood cabinet, and I wonder what it holds. He opens it and my question is answered. The shelves inside contain dozens of bottles of alcohol. He takes one of the bottles in his hand, the glass clinking against the bottle next to it.
He turns, a bottle of whiskey from a brand I have never heard of before in his hand. "You want some?"
"I can't because of Evie. Besides, I'm not into drinking anyway."
"You sure? This bottle had a price tag of four-hundred dollars. I have plenty of other stuff too, if you're not into whiskey. Gin, tequila, wine, vodka, it's yours if you want it. I have mixes too. There was a high-end liquor store in the mall. I mean seriously, this is the good stuff."
"I'm fine."
"You're a good mother, Bea. Most moms would've given in by now," he says, pouring himself a glass. "But you're not a drinker anyway, huh? Never even a sip? Sounds like maybe you had an alcoholic dad, or uncle. Maybe a boyfriend?" He mumbles the last part.
It's always some kind of game or test with him. I sit in my chair unflinching, arms and legs crossed. "Just not into it."
"Not scared anymore, huh? Well, that's good. I don't want to drink alone. Hot chocolate?" He pulls a packet of hot chocolate mix, a coffee mug, and a bag of mini-marshmallows.
"Sure," I say, leaning forward in the chair. I should be stubborn and say no, but I haven't tasted something this delicious in quite a while. He starts to head toward the microwave in the opposite corner of his office but I abruptly stop him. No way will I let him make me a drink.
He puts his hands up in defeat. "Hate me for trying to be a gentleman, I guess."
I use the water pitcher next to the microwave to pour water into the coffee mug that reads Las Vegas and features all of the tourist attractions of the city that I'll likely never see. I dump the hot chocolate packet into the mug and I'm not careful about it, nor do I feel bad when some of the powder misses the cup. When it's finished in the microwave, I dump twice as many marshmallows as necessary.
I return, and a sheathed sword lies on Bill's desk. It looks like a more modernized version of the ones I saw in the museums I used to go to for elementary school field trips. Is this what I'm here for? To be executed? I snort at the idea.
He sits on the edge of his desk directly in front of me. I grip the mug so harshly that my palms burn. He reaches behind his body to pull the sword in front of him. "I got this for you."
"You did?" I ask incredulously.
"Yes. A couple days ago I went out on my own for quite a while. I found this in a house and immediately thought of you. It was just being displayed in the house I found it in, but it's fully functional."
"Thanks?" I say, but it's more of a question. First the gun and the knife, now this. I'm not sure what his end goal is here. "So you brought me here to give me hot chocolate and a sword?"
I take the sword from his and slide my finger along the intricate teal colored markings along the sheath. It truly is beautiful, and I imagine that the katana inside it is exceptionally sharp.
"Actually I wanted to talk to you." There it is. "You're a strong woman, and an incredible mother. I've told you these things before, but I want you to know that I really mean it. Your fatal flaw is that you're too kind. Too kind to realize that you're surrounded by weak men."
I stop sipping my hot chocolate. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're surrounded by weak men! They're dragging you down and you refuse to see it!" His voice is raised.
I lean forward in my seat to the point that I'm almost falling out of it. I get in his face and grit my teeth. Maybe it's stupid, or maybe it's dangerous, but I have to push back at him. "What's that supposed to mean!?"
"It means that your brother, your boyfriend, Carlos, Alvin, all of them! They're fucking losers! How long will you go on pretending that you don't see it?! How many hints do I have to give you?!" He's yelling now. If someone is right below us, they probably heard everything he just said, including the mocking tone that he used to say boyfriend.
"Whatever. You're wrong. Am I free to leave?" I slump in my chair like a teenager who doesn't care what the principal has to say.
"No, I have something else more important to talk to you about." His voice level returns to normal and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I apologize for raising my voice. I just don't know how to get that through to you. Onto the part of utmost importance. I'm sure you're aware that I believe the next generation is incredibly important. Unfortunately, there's not many of them around, nor are there a lot of people that are… good choices to continue their lineage. Now you, on the other hand, you're smart, you're strong, you're beautiful…" He pauses to reach out and stroke my face, but I smack his hand away. He continues, unfazed. "You're a bit too trusting, but we can work on it. I'm a strong leader, a strong man…. Just think about it."
I stop mid-drink, the mug hovering in front of my mouth. My breath hitches. "What are you saying right now?"
He sighs. "Well, I think you know, but I'll make it more clear for you. I'd like you to carry my child. The two of us here have the best genes, so it's only sensible for us to procreate."
The mug slips from my hands and tumbles to the floor. The mug becomes three separate ceramic pieces surrounded by mini-marshmallows. On the way down, the liquid soaks my jeans and scalds my skin, but the rage I feel masks the pain.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you seriously trying to practice eugenics!?"
He ponders for a moment, his face conveying that he doesn't know why I'm acting the way I am. I always had my doubts about this man, but now it's clear that he is udderly out of his mind. He's dangerously dancing close to the line of tyranny. "Well, I wouldn't go as far as to say that. I don't really get why you're so appalled at the idea. I mean we wouldn't do it now, of course. I'd give you time until Evie is a bit older. And I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do. Let's just say things around here would get a lot better for you and those losers you call family. I'm not an unreasonable man."
"No." My jaw tenses so hard I nearly feel my brain rattle. "No, you sick fuck!
The two of us realize at the same time that my hand is tightly gripping the katana. "What are you going to do, Bea?" He asks pensively.
"Stay the fuck away from me, and stay the fuck away from my family." I scoot the chair back abruptly and stand up straight. I put distance between us, but he still towers over me physically and metaphorically.
I rush out the door and down the stairs. Before I make it out the door he says, "Take your time, Bea. I'll see you when you're ready. Don't be a stranger."
I hurry until I'm out of view of his office, and then I slow to a snail's pace. I pass by a mirror and peer into the reflection as I pass. My skin has never been considered pale, but my current reflection says otherwise. All color has been sucked out of my face. I walk back to the pen in a stupor. My feet scuff the floor, and from behind I might even be mistaken for a lurker.
"Hey, Bea," Russell says with a smile and a wave from his guard perch. I shuffle past him without a word or even acknowledgement. I don't have it in me.
I reach the pen which is both ten times colder in physical temperature and in aura as the rest of the compound. Anxiety fills me for a different reason. I have to tell everyone about what just happened.
"Hey, Bea! We've been waiting for you. Luke says you'll need to feed Evie first, but afterward I thought maybe you would want to play a game or something…?" Sarah rushes to my side as soon as I walk in, before anyone else even notices my presence. She begins with excited speech, but she quickly realizes something is wrong. "Uh, I think something is wrong with Bea."
Luke and Nick both rush to my side, while several others slowly gather around us out of curiosity.
Luke says, "You've been gone for so long! Where were you?"
"What's wrong?" Nick asks.
"We have to leave. Now." I manage to get out.
"What the fuck? And why do you have a… sword?" Nick says.
I look around to see that nearly everyone who lives in the pen has gathered around by now. I wipe my clammy palms against my jeans and prepare myself to speak. Mostly, I prepare myself for a horrible reaction from multiple people.
"Bill…. asked me to have a baby with him."
Most of the group erupts in an exclamation of, "What!?" but Nick and Luke's are the loudest. I flinch.
"I knew it! The guy's a fucking creep! I'm gonna kill that sick fuck!" Nick starts barreling toward the exit of the pen. Luke and I pull him back.
"Nick, man, hear her out! We need to figure out what we're dealing with right now," Luke says.
Nick begrudgingly stops to listen to me. The others peer at me expectantly.
"As some of you are aware, Vince said something to me and Nick about Bill being in love with me and that's why he's softer on me as compared to others. I tried to just shake it off and avoid him, but today I was called to his office. He started spewing some weird nonsense about how I'm so strong and I'm surrounded by weak men. He started talking about how important the next generation is and how there's not many people around who should be procreating. He wants the two of us to combine our 'strong genes' and have a baby. He said things would get a lot better for us if I do it. I knew about all his weird shit before but… this I was not expecting."
I take a deep breath after telling the entire story. Martha pulls up a chair for me to sit down in which I gladly accept.
"Bea," Luke says, a hint of anger in his voice. "What do you mean you knew about his 'weird shit?'"
I gulp. "So… He has been keeping us in here so long because we are too difficult in comparison to the others who have come through here. The others have been complacent, while we are defiant and ask too many questions. We question his ways. When we first got here that intake stuff was fake. They were just doing it to see if we asked questions or just went along with it. Also, Bill doesn't schedule the jobs. Tavia and Jerry do."
"You should have told me!" Luke says.
"You knew and you didn't tell us!? Were you trying to protect him or something?" Rebecca argues. Alvin comes up behind her to try and calm her down.
"How do you know all this information?" Carlos asks.
"I noticed a lot of weird things on my own. Dorothea told me about the intake thing, and Bill ended up telling me as well-"
"Why are we just now hearing about this!?" Luke questions.
I think about the anger and hurt that is present on the faces of the group. I completely understand; they have every right to be hurt. "I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping it to myself. I thought I was keeping us safe. If I overlooked it, we could stay here where at least it was safe. I obviously fucked up and I'm really sorry."
"Oh, you're sorry. How can we trust you? Oh, is that a gift from your boyfriend?" Rebecca snaps, pointing at the sword. The second it leaves her mouth Alvin scolds, "Rebecca!" and she slaps a hand over her mouth. Realization dawns on her that she really just said that.
"Everybody pack your shit. We're out of here first thing tomorrow," Nick says, but before anyone can make a move, we hear footsteps.
Everyone turns to see Bill sauntering into the pen with nearly every single guard in the compound following him. "One of my guards radioed that there was some commotion in here. There isn't a problem, is there?"
"Damn straight there's a problem! We're packing our shit and leaving!" Nick yells in Bill's face.
"That won't be happening, Nicholas. Now, I recommend that you turn around and cool down before you do something you regret," Bill says in an impeccably calm voice.
"We won't let you control us any longer," Carlos says. "We are leaving tomorrow morning."
"Like I said, that won't be happening. I'm not an unreasonable man, but one more bit of that nonsense and you might not be so lucky," he says, still calm.
"Fuck you! We're leaving and that's final! You think you can be some fucking tyrannt and put your grimy hands all over my girlfriend!? You want her to have your kids!? Hell no!" Nick shouts, barrelling into Bill.
They hit the concrete, hard. Bill's head slams against the concrete and Nick starts pounding his fists against his cheeks. Bill tries to fight back, but he can't even get up with Nick wailing at him. Bill yells out something intelligible, a signal perhaps, and three of the biggest guards pull Nick off of him, just barely.
"Let go of me!" He thrashes against their strong grips.
Bill gets to his feet, trying not to stagger. He wipes a drip of blood off of his cheek. "You three, tie him up. The rest of you… Get ready to get the others. It's not going to be pretty."
One of the guards on Nick pulls a rope from inside his coat pocket. The three of them use it to bind his wrists together, though it takes them a while because of how hard he's thrashing about. They planned for this to happen.
"Stop this now!" shouts Carlos.
"Shut up," Bill growls. He steps forward and peers down at Nick who is kneeling with a fiery look on his face. Nick takes one look at him and spits in his face. Bill takes a moment to wipe it off. With no prompting, he strikes Nick in the face with his closed fist.
"No!" I screech, rushing forward into Bill. He staggers backward a step or two, but he regains himself without a glance in my direction.
"Vince, deal with this one," he orders.
"I- I don't-" Vince stammers, glancing at me with guilt.
"Now goddammit!"
I start wailing my fists against Bill's chest, but Vince pulls me back into him. I fight against him, but he's able to subdue my fists with a rope that he pulls from within his coat as well.
Luke, Pete, and several others rush forward as well. Other guards rush to subdue them before they can even reach Bill. They go down to the ground harshly. The guards on them aren't being as gentle as Vince is with me. I don't want to hurt him, but I jab my elbow into his ribcage. He doubles over, guttural breaths spewing from his mouth. I race toward Bill again, but all I can do is ram into him with my small stature, which doesn't do much. All it takes is Bill to give Vince a deadly look, and Vince has me pinned to the floor, his breathing still ragged.
"Stop!" I yell again, my stomach and face pressed against the cold, dirty concrete. The pressure Vince is applying to keep me down is tremendous. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt.
"Don't worry, Bea. I can take whatever this asshole has in him," Nick says, unfazed by the pain of the first punch.
Many of the others are yelling out too. Luke, Pete, Alvin, Carlos, George, and Martha are all pinned to the floor, struggling and shouting. The others that aren't pinned to the floor are mostly cowering in fear. Sarah cries out desperately for her father, while Rebecca attempts to comfort her. Next to them, Arthur holds Evie in his one arm. Her wails fill the air, fat tears roll down her cheeks. I should be there for her, but there's no chance I'm getting up again now.
"Just stop this, please! We can talk through this! No one needs to get hurt!" George pleads to Tyrone, the guard who is holding him down.
"Just stop making this worse, man. Please!" Tyrone shouts back.
Just as Tyrone finishes, Bill starts attacking Nick again. Hit after hit, my screams and pleads grow louder, as does Evie's wails. Nick tries to not act fazed, but there's only so much that one can do while getting their face bruised and bloody.
"Please, Vince! You can stop this! I know you don't think this is right!" I can feel and see the apprehension that Vince has had this entire encounter.
"Bea, please. I can't do anything. You'll only make it worse," he says, and with that, I give up with pleading.
Bill keeps going, until he decides we've learned whatever lesson he decided we needed. He steps back, Nick slumps over, and the rest of the guards remove the pressure from our bodies. With a silent signal, Bill and the guards leave us, hands still bound and all.
Author's Note: I took way too long to update, and I'm sorry! I will be trying to have a better uploading schedule!