The World Without Flags

“What kind of man are you?” Matt asks. He stands up and my hand flies to my knife, but it’s not there! I search for it frantically, feeling my heart race. If Matt’s got a gun, this could be over before I have a chance to do anything!

“What do you want me to do?” Eric asks. He hasn’t even stood up himself. He’s sitting there, vulnerable, calm.

Matt swallows and looks around the room. I put my hand around my mug. Next plan. If he moves toward Eric, I can hit him with a mug of hot cider. I have to hit him as hard as I can in the nose. It might break his nose and scald his eyes long enough to make a difference. I scan the table. No knives, no forks, not even a damn spoon.

“You don’t know,” Matt says finally. “You don’t know what they do. You think we’re safe here? You think the war can’t touch us?”

“No, I don’t think that, Matt.” Eric’s voice is low and even.

“You know what these people are like?”

“Who?” asks Eric.

“These, these,” Matt splutters, “these soldiers! I know, I’ve seen them. After the Worm, they came in tanks and they just shot everyone.” Matt’s eyes are wild and he seems to be having a hard time talking but he can’t stop either. “They just shot everyone. I was thinking that it would pass, all of it would pass, so we just stayed in our house. I told them they’d be okay. But the soldiers came, they came into our house. They took everyone and we went into the streets and I said to be calm, just be calm, and they’d be all right. But that’s not what, that’s not who, that’s not what they’re like!” Matt throws his mug to the ground where it shatters into a hundred pieces. Norman and Crystal stand up and back away. Matt continues, his eyes wild and violent, fixed on Eric. “They shoot everyone!” he hissed. “Don’t you understand? They shot everyone! My son. My wife. My daughter. They shot them all like they were, they were nothing!” He trembles all over.

“I know,” Eric says. “I’ve seen it too, Matt.”

Matt shakes his head like he can’t believe it. “No, you don’t know.” He raises his hand and points at Eric. “If you knew, you would be getting ready. You’d be getting our guns. You wouldn’t be knee deep in shit all day!”

“Matt,” Eric says. “I know.”

“You don’t know,” he responds. But some of his crazy energy has dissipated. He’s shaking all over. He looks about ready to collapse. “They’ll kill us all.”

Eric stands up and walks around the table. “I know,” he tells Matt. He’s looking at him straight in the eyes. “I do know.”

Matt’s lips trembles like a child’s. His face collapses. “Then why don’t you do something?”

Eric reaches out and puts his hand on Matt’s shoulder. At first Matt takes a step back, but then he seems to lose the will to pull away and just stands there. “They killed everyone but me. I didn’t do anything and they killed everyone. Except me.” Matt dissolves like all the bones have left his body. His eyes are dark and empty, pits drilled into his skull. He looks like he’s going to collapse into a puddle and drain away into the earth. Eric takes him by the shoulders and gently leads him to Crystal.

“Take him home, will you?” he asks her. “He needs some sleep.”

“Sure, Eric, sure,” she says. She takes Matt from him who’s in some horrible daze and leads him out of the Lodge.

Pest sweeps up the pieces of the mug while we all silently finish our cider.

It’s Eric who speaks finally. “Please, let’s keep this to ourselves. Matt’s been through enough. Let him forget this.”

Looking around at us all, I have the feeling it’s only going to get worse from here on out.

12

As I’m leaving to follow Eric up the hill to our house, I feel a tug on my arm. I stop and turn around. It’s Pest. He’s got a smile on his face that makes me feel. Well, it makes me feel uncomfortable.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks. His voice is high like a kid’s, but there’s something adult in it. It gives me the creeps. I tell Eric I’ll meet him at home, and then turn back to Pest with my arms crossed. When Eric is out of sight, Pest takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. Pest has this dark, curly hair that I don’t think has ever been combed. I think he cuts it himself because it’s uneven and messy. It looks like something’s died an unpleasant death on his head. He has a small little nose and dark eyebrows that make his eyes even more menacing. I notice again the glimmering blue of his eyes.

“What?” I ask, crossing my arms.

He doesn’t answer, but just holds out his hands. It’s my knife. I snatch it out of his hands instantly, a flash of anger shooting through me. I should’ve known it was this little jerk!

“Don’t get pissed,” he tells me. “I did it for your own good.”

“Is that right?” I narrow my eyes at him.

“You’re too protective of Eric,” he says. “You would’ve pulled that on Matt and then things would’ve gone very badly.”

I open my mouth to deny it, but the little shit is right so I just shut up.

“Eric is more capable than you give him credit for,” Pest says to me. “He can handle himself. You should trust him.”