The World Without Flags

“NO!” I scream. His finger pauses on the trigger. I lower my voice a little, trying to get his attention. “Norman, I’ve known you all my life. You’re like a grandfather to me. Please listen to me.” I get down on my knees and clasp my hands together. “I’m begging you to listen.”

Norman chokes. “Don’t do this to me, Kestrel.” His mouth is quivering.

“He’s the only father I’ve ever known,” I say.

“Don’t say that,” he says.

“Please don’t kill my father.” I’m trembling, my hands held out to him.

“Stop saying that,” Norman says. “That is not Eric.”

I’m crying now. “I’m begging you, Norman.” I let out a sob. “Just give me a minute. Just one minute. Let me explain.”

Tears run down his face. “Don’t do this to me,” he says. His finger quivers on the trigger.

“Please, Norman,” I beg. “Give me a chance to explain. Please!” I can hardly speak through the sobs.

Norman’s arms fall to his side. He wipes his face with the crook of his elbow. I close my eyes with relief. Norman turns to me.

“One minute,” he says. “Then you’re going to leave me to do what has to be done.”

I nod, my chest still heaving with emotion.

“One minute,” he repeats.

Norman sits down on a nearby rock and waits, his head hung in defeated sorrow.

My one minute begins.

60

I stand up from my kneeling position. I’ve never begged anyone for anything. I’ve never done anything like that. I feel shame and relief, gratitude and anger, all at the same time. I feel like hugging Norman. I feel like killing him. I’ve never called Eric my father. Never in my whole life. I didn’t even think I thought that way. I didn’t just say it for Norman. It came out of me without thinking. It was raw and true. I feel lightened somehow by having said it. I feel stunned by it. I’ve never felt so many things at once. I feel sensitive and confused. But I can’t, I can’t deal with any of that right now. I have to focus.

I take a deep breath and let it out slow.

I have one minute to save my father’s life.

61

“First of all,” I say to Norman, “Eric told me himself that not everyone died of the Worm. So Eric could make it!” I pointed at him. “He could still be in there, alive, fighting. If you shoot him, you’ll be killing Eric, not just some walking disease. You have to give him a fighting chance. You have to trust in him.”

“How does Eric know that?” Norman asks. “I was alive when the Worm came the first time. I remember what it was like. I don’t remember anyone coming back.”

“Probably because everyone was like you,” I answer. “No one gave those people a chance.”

Norman makes a powerful puffing sound. He isn’t agreeing with that. I don’t want to push too hard at this point. Who knows how many people with the Worm he shot back then? I don’t want to make him feel like a murderer.

“Look,” I continue, “this is what Eric told me. He told me that Good Prince Billy saw it with her own eyes.”

“I’ve never met this Good Prince Billy,” Norman says. “Why would I trust her? Maybe she doesn’t even exist.”

“Eric never lies,” I tell him. “You know that.”

Norman glances over at Eric at the tree and then he looks down at the ground. He knows that is true at least.

“Norman,” I continue, seeing a little weakness in him, “if you agree that there’s even the smallest, remotest chance that Eric might survive, you can’t kill him. You have to give him that chance. You told me yourself that Eric was the toughest son of bitch you ever met. Remember that? You have to let him fight. If you even have the smallest doubt, then it’s murder. The price of being wrong is just too high.”

“What if I don’t kill him and he ends up infecting three other people?” Norman asks. “And what if those three people go on to infect a whole community? And that community goes on to destroy what’s left of humanity? That’s on me. That’s a hell of a risk!” He looks at me sadly. “I can see why you would take that risk. But how can I?”

I swallow. It’s the heart of the issue. “It’s a risk,” I say. “But look, Norman, Eric doesn’t bite, he doesn’t scratch, he hardly does anything. If we put him in a special room and take care of him very carefully, maybe it’s not as big of a risk as you think.”

Norman looks at Eric. I study him, but I don’t know what he’s thinking. I can’t make out if he’s agreeing with me or not. He’s just a block of stone looking at Eric. This instant scares me. I decide to take advantage of his indecision.

“Look, Norman,” I say, “it’s complicated, right? Why don’t we take Eric back to the Homestead? We can all decide what to do there. You don’t have to make a decision right now.”

Norman looks at me and something drops down over his eyes. My heart drops with it. I’ve made a terrible mistake.

“We already made that decision, Kestrel,” he says. “Franky gathered us all together and told us what he’d found in your cabin. He told us that Eric had the Worm, and we discussed it. We all agreed what the best thing was.”

I start to tremble. Franky. Of course he’d want to get rid of Eric as soon as he could.