The World Without Flags

“Remember,” Eric says to them. “Most of the people who had the Worm were harmless. They just went into a catatonic state and eventually died. Only a few of them cracked and became dangerous. I want to make this clear to everyone. We are not going to kill anyone until they become a danger. Is that clear?”

There’s a lot of nodding to this and some audible agreements. No one wants to kill anyone anyway, so it’s an easy thing to agree to. I imagine the only person who is disappointed is Matt.

“Did they always die when they got the Worm?” This question comes from Artemis. She’s like me, a little too young to remember the Worm distinctly.

The question hangs in the air. Because if Crypt could get it, any of us could have it. Maybe we are all going to get sick. I feel a knot in my stomach thinking of the worms that could be inside me already, tunneling their way up to my brain, attaching themselves with their hooks into my skull. I shudder and try to push the thought away.

“People didn’t always die,” Eric says. There’s some intake of breath at that because everyone has been told forever that there was no cure for the Worm. Whoever had it, died. That’s what I’ve always been told. I look up at Eric like everyone else, waiting for a further explanation. “I know a woman named Good Prince Billy. She says she saw a couple people come through the Vaca B. She says it was rare, but it happened. She took care of them, and, somehow, they made it. A couple.”

Good Prince Billy. Eric’s pen pal. He still gives letters to Randy to hand to her. He’s got some letters from her too, I remember. As usual, Eric surprises me. He always knows more about a situation than he tells me. It’s a little irritating.

No one else is irritated though. Eric has given them some hope. Matt is the only one who doesn’t seem to appreciate it. As the crowd breaks up, Diane and Fiona lead him out of the room. His head is hung low and he looks defeated. He lets himself be guided like some kind of prisoner going to his own execution, and he knows he deserves it. It gives me the chills, and I realize just how badly damaged Matt is. All this time with us and he seemed normal to me, at least as normal as you could be. But I see now that all that was like some illusion and now Matt has emerged, a man who craves his own death and believes to his core that he deserves it. It’s too disturbing to look at him, so I turn away.

It’s not until everyone’s gone that I notice Artemis is still sitting on the benches with her face in her hands. Eric motions for me to get her. I’m irritated. She’s always crying, and I don’t feel like comforting her. I want to go home with Eric and talk with him and think about what to do. I don’t have time to be holding her hand. I know I’m not being a very good friend, but I sigh and move over to the benches and put my hand on her shoulder. I give her a little shake, not too gently either.

“Come on, Artemis, let’s go,” I tell her impatiently.

She looks up at me. Her eyes are deeply bloodshot. Her face is so pale, she’s almost blue and there are dark bags under her eyes.

“I don’t feel good,” she says, her lips quivering. I can feel the heat coming from her where I stand.

Tears, pink with blood, flow down her face.

19

Two days later, we have three quarantine houses. Ten people are sick with the Worm. After helping Franky with the water sterilizing furnace, Wesley came down with the fever. During dinner at the Lodge, Sam threw up. In the middle of a puddle of beans was a dark knot of pale worms. Anthony was next. He stumbled in the house with a fever so high, he didn’t even make it through the night. We burned him just at dawn. Glenda and Brian, both my age, were next. I used to have a crush on Brian when I was like fourteen. We kissed once behind the farmhouse, a quick, dry kiss, thrilling, embarrassing. It was hard to see him shaking in his fever, dark crimson tears on his face. Peter collapsed in the fields. Beth fainted while she was filling a tin bucket with water. Her fever is so high, it has burnt her away. She’s mostly a skeleton now, although we have a little hope for her because her eyes aren’t red at all. Both Patrick and Fiona are sick. They came in together, both trembling from fear and sickness. We all take turns to help, hoping that no one will die when it’s our turn to care for them.

We go in the quarantine houses with gloves on and long shirts. We go in pairs or threes. We go with guns loaded with precious ammunition. One person feeds them. The other person watches, hand on their gun.

No one has cracked. Yet.

20

I am there when Artemis dies. She didn’t last long. She gave up fast. The fever hit her so hard, she couldn’t stand up to it. Her face was slick with sweat. I tried to help her as best I could, but after a while, she just wanted water. And when I gave it to her, she twisted in her bed like it hurt. She coughed up dark, almost black, blood. Worms wriggled from her mouth. I wiped them away, trying to force down my revulsion.