The World Without Flags

Then, in my mind, clear as glass, I hear Eric say, “People don’t always die.” I remember how he said at the Lodge that Good Prince Billy knew people who made it through the Worm. The Worm is different now, but not totally different. Maybe he can make it. I breathe a little easier. Some manner of hope comes to me, like a single star on a cloudy, dark night.

But Eric can’t survive without me. If anyone finds him like this, he’s dead. They’ll kill him just like I helped kill Rhonda and Sam. I have to get him somewhere safe.

I have to leave the Homestead.

When the sunlight starts streaming down through the pine trees, glittering and bright in the morning, I pick myself up off the earth and gather myself. I have to get back to our house before someone comes to look for us. I have to think of a reason why Eric isn’t here.

I shut the doors to the Land Rover as best as I can and feel a burst of guilt for leaving Eric alone, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I start jogging back toward our house. As my feet touch down on the forest floor, I think.

Thinking has always been a refuge for me. I like to disappear into the constant stream of thought that’s going on in my mind. When I’m working in the fields all day, I just vanish into this stream and let my mind do what it wants and go where it wants. But not now. Now I have to focus and try to keep it on track. It reminds me of the lessons that Eric was always giving me on everything from the history of the United States up to the Vaca B to the birth and death of stars. We would take turns reading from the books that he collected, and then Eric would ask me questions. Not just one or two, but like a dozen. Hard questions too. I had to sit and think them through, why this and why that. It was exhausting and sometimes I was sick of it and got mad at him. What was the use of thinking about all this dead science? What was the use of talking about Napoleon and Martin Luther King and World War Two in this world? What did it matter what Toni Morrison wrote and why? But as I run back to the house and feel my mind enter that space of focus, I understand that Eric was preparing me for this.

As I heat up from the jog, I start planning. The plan is only half-finished when I get home to find Norman and Franky already there, waiting at the front door. They are looking at me with frowning faces. They are puzzled and there is something there that I haven’t seen before. As I come to a stop in front of them, I realize what it is.

They don’t trust me.

I smile at them.

It starts now.

30

“Where’ve you been?” asks Franky, looking over my shoulder to the woods.

I shrug. “I needed a run,” I say. Always wrap a lie inside the truth. I did need a run, just not for the reason they think.

“Where’s Eric?” Norman asks. “We’ve been knocking on the door for a long time.” I notice they’re hands linger near their guns. They’re not stupid. They might guess that something has happened to Eric, something I want to hide. They might think Eric’s in there with the Worm, even cracked. I was right to move him.

“He’s gone,” I say.

The both of them look at me with surprise.

I push past them and open the door. I leave it open behind me as I would have on any other day. It’s dark in the house. Norman and Franky don’t follow me in. They remain in the doorway. “He left last night,” I tell them. “Said he needed to think. He was pretty angry when I told them what we did with Rhonda and Sam.”

The two look at each other uncomfortably. Franky even looks away in shame. Success.

I twist the knife a little. “He told me he couldn’t be here right now if we were going to start murdering people.”

“Shit,” Franky mutters.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Norman says. “He picked a hell of a time to leave.”

Franky hisses angrily. “I thought he would have this goddamn reaction. I came here last night to tell him myself, see if I could make him understand. We were risking lives keeping those two alive. It’s not as if we had a choice.”

“That’s what I told him,” I lie. “He just said that if there’s a chance a person can survive, we can’t let them die. No matter how small the chance.”

“Was he that angry?” Norman asks me.

I nod.

Franky grunts with annoyance and Norman looks down at his feet. I notice they’ve relaxed their grips on the guns, and I relax a little myself. Franky walks away and then back to the door again. Then, as if making a decision, he ducks through the door and walks into the house. “Well, what’re we going to do?” He’s asking Norman.

“Lord,” Norman sighs, following Franky. Their heavy boots clomp in on the dirt floor. I can feel their attention slide away from me, and I know I’m out of hot water for now. Eric is a little safer. “I should’ve seen this coming.” He sits down at our table tiredly. “Who knows, maybe he’s right. Maybe we got ahead of ourselves.”