Matt Eaton - Blank

There was nothing he could say to ease her mind, but she lay her head on his shoulder and it told him nothing more needed to be said. They lay together in blissful silence. With the warm comfort of her body next to his, it wasn’t long before he fell headlong into a peaceful abyss.

The screams rang out just as they were just about to consummate. As the noise pulled him out of the dream he felt like a child being dragged from a lolly shop empty-handed. He couldn’t be sure it was Mel who’d been standing naked before him – not that it particularly mattered, because the illusion was gone forever now. The best damn dream he’d had in a long time.

Someone had better be dying out there, swear to God.

Mel shocked him when she sat bolt upright beside him. The implications pulsed through him like hot and cold shots of adrenalin: she really was here in his bed; they had fallen asleep without having sex (idiot); they wouldn’t have sex now because someone was going berserk outside; they might have sex later; he had to get dressed; might need his tranquiliser gun; he needed pants to hide his priapism; shit-shit-shit.

The light was still on. He glanced toward her and saw she was smiling. And she could read his thoughts.

He tried to hurriedly pull his pants on but tripped up on the first leg and fell back on the bed. “I better go and check that out,” he explained, leaving the room without looking back.

“Nice lunchbox,” she called after him. “You pack that banana yourself?”

From the screams he knew for certain they had a visitor. He remembered he’d left his rifle in the hallway cupboard, grabbed it and bolted down the back stairs, struggling to load the gun as he leapt down them two at a time. He ran around the side of the house to the front driveway, where the newly installed fence cut an ugly path through his garden.

The idea had been to maintain a well-lit perimeter and he realised now that had been a wise decision. Facing the fence, Sergeant Naughton and four of his men were staring at the snarling face of the would-be intruder, rifles ready to fire. It was a single Blank teenager, no more than 17 or 18 years old. He was wearing shorts and a T-shirt but clearly had no regard for clothing. The shirt was covered in dirt and blood. His pants were caked in piss and shit.

He was halfway up the wire mesh fence. It had been Naughton’s idea to fence the front entrance first. He reasoned their attackers weren’t going to be clever enough to scan the entire perimeter before making an assault. He had been proved right on this occasion. Their visitor clearly hadn’t worked out that the fence didn’t run all the way around or else he’d already be inside the perimeter. He was screaming like a wild animal caught in a trap, but he wasn’t backing away. Luckman’s thoughts immediately ran to his terrifying tangle with the shark. It occurred to him a fence alone was not going to be enough to keep these guys at bay.

Sergeant Naughton looked as if he might fire at any moment. Luckman realised the soldiers were armed with their regular rifles. He wondered if Naughton had made that call deliberately – all the soldiers had sleep dart rifles, but none of them had captured a live Blank in weeks.

“Stand down, Sergeant,” Luckman ordered.

Naughton paused just long enough to indicate his disdain.

“Sir.”

He slowly lowered his rifle, prompting the other soldiers to do the same. The Blank kid reacted as if this was an act of surrender. He threw himself over the fence in one motion, landing on his feet like a cat ready to pounce. Luckman fired his tranquiliser dart and hit him in the chest before the other soldiers had time to raise their guns again. The kid howled as the dart hit home but ripped it out of his arm too quickly for the drug to take full effect. It slowed him down but he remained on his feet.

“Wait. Stop,” Mel called from behind him.

“It’s all right,” she told the kids soothingly, “just calm down. No-one here is going to harm you.”

Her words were enough to stop the Blank in his tracks. His expression shifted from slavering aggression to childlike curiosity.

“Stay back Mel, he’s not so friendly,” Luckman warned.

But the intruder advanced no further. He was staring at Mel like she was the most miraculous thing he’d ever seen. Luckman wondered dimly whether she was somehow getting inside his head, but he also didn’t want the situation to deteriorate.

“Guys,” he spoke in a whisper, “fall back slowly and position yourselves between me and Mel.”

Naughton and the soldiers did as they were told. Like Luckman, they now saw Mel as their number one priority. But as they closed ranks the creature lost sight of her. He became agitated and stepped forward trying to catch a glimpse of her. Luckman took two steps sideways, raised his rifle and fired a dart into the kid’s rump. This time he appeared not to notice, which was precisely what Luckman had hoped would happen. He reloaded and fired a second dart into the young man’s arm and he collapsed slowly to the ground.

Mel ran around the soldiers and sat down beside the kid.

“Careful Mel,” Luckman warned. She ignored him. The young Blank was still conscious but utterly pacified by the sedative from the darts. She held his hand and gently rubbed his forehead like a mother nursing a sick child. He gazed at her adoringly, closed his eyes and passed out.

“That was remarkable,” Luckman told her.

“Amazing what you can achieve with a little kindness,” she answered. “Though I’ll admit I wasn’t at all sure how he’d respond. He looked like he wanted to eat you all for breakfast.”

“That’s ’cos he did,” Sergeant Naughton told her. “Look at his clothes. He’s probably been feasting on his other Blank pals out there. Got a taste for human flesh this one, I’d say.”

There was an ugliness in Naughton’s tone that neither of them much liked. He was devoid of empathy. Mel imagined Naughton figured the only good Blank was a dead one.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sergeant,” said Luckman. “Human beings are not instinctively cannibalistic. He probably just killed a chicken or a possum.”

“What do we do with him now?” Mel queried.

“We put him in the cage,” Luckman told her.

“Yep, we chain him up like a dog so he doesn’t bite,” Naughton continued.

“Sergeant Naughton, your job today is to get the rest of that fence erected as quickly as humanly possible. Gather everyone in the camp and tell them we need their help.”

Naughton looked like he was about to object but thought better of it. “Sir.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, what is it Naughton? Speak up.”

“It’s just that the fence wasn’t much of a problem for to this one. What happens when there’s a whole pack of them baying for our blood?”

“You’re right. The fence on its own isn’t enough. Which is why we’re going to electrify it.”

Their young captive was still unconscious by the time he was secured in the holding pen. The first light of dawn had begun to break across the eastern horizon. As Luckman and Mel made their way back to the house, Seamus greeted them bleary-eyed.

“Why’s everyone up so early?” he inquired.

“Sorry, did we wake you?” asked Luckman facetiously.

“I heard voices.”

“First sign of madness.” The Irishman could sleep through an air raid. “Must be coffee o’clock,” Luckman declared.

“Now you’re talkin’,” Seamus concurred.

No use trying to go back to bed now. And with Seamus awake, he wouldn’t have Mel to himself. Hope sprang eternal in a young man’s heart. Seamus clearly still rated himself a chance with her and would ignore the most unsubtle hints to piss off.