Tracey Ward - Writing on the Wall

She shows us a large maintenance room where the electrical side of things is run and I finally get a reprieve from the crush of people. The generators are here, the solar batteries being charged by the panels on the roof and another set of batteries being charged by a small wind turbine set up outside in the yards. It all looks intricate and confusing to me but this is how they live. This is how they have hot running water, lights moderate heat and a functioning kitchen.

Outside is the small agricultural area we saw before. I also notice that they’ve taken the time to bring in high fences that run the three water sides of the property. No waiting for summer and swimming for freedom. How did they know? It’s almost like they’re as accustomed to keeping people in as they are to keeping zombies out. There are gardens and a greenhouse out here to be tended with small fruits and a lot of vegetables. There are also sections designated for various crops and they have livestock to be looked after; cows to be milked, eggs to be gathered.

Inside there are meals to be prepped, fruits and veggies to be canned and preserved, breads to be baked. The maintenance room needs bodies, the guards need people on rotation, there’s sewing to be done. And that’s all great. I’m actually in love with and on board for all of that. But what makes me want to scream in this woman’s fake Barbie face is that I don’t want to live here. I’m a butcher, not a baker or a candlestick maker, which, by the way, was on the tour as well. This entire community thing is not for me. I get it now, what Vin said about me earlier; I’m a wild thing. I belong in the wild, in the woods, in the streets. In danger.

When they showed me the giant room full of beds, I almost vomited. I can’t take this. It’s too crowded, too closed in. It’s too clean . Don’t get me wrong, I like being clean. I loved that hot shower and I will happily drink their milk until I get sick and die, but my problem with a lot of this is that it’s like they’re playing at normal. They’re trying to pretend that they can hide behind these concrete walls and the world outside isn’t dead and rotting at their doorstep. Their backyard is flooded with sewage and their solution is to draw the blinds.

People like me and Vin and Ryan, we live out there in the ugly and we look it in the eye every single day. We’re out there trying to reclaim what was lost while these people are hiding away, pulling us in and trying to make us part of the fantasy that all can be bright and beautiful again if we just close our eyes to everything that’s real.

I can see it on Vin’s face too. As we walk through the tour Breanne gets happier by the second. I watch as he distances himself from her. She’s lost to this place and he knows it. And who knows? If I was doing what she was on the outside then I might be quick to sign up too. I’m not judging her for wanting this. I’m not judging anyone who would. What I am judging is the way they go about it.

“I want to watch this place burn.” I say to myself.

Vin chuckles softly beside me. “You and me both, sister.”

“Is this like what you guys have at The Hive? Is everyone sitting pretty these days but me?”

“No, not even close.” He glances around the common room we’re standing in, his eyes landing on the 50in TV and brightly colored bean bag chairs. “This is almost grotesque.”

“It’s messed up, right?” I ask, glad he sees it the way I do. “It feels obscene somehow.”

“Kinda disrespectful.”

“Exactly. They’re delusional.”

“This one especially.” he mutters, gesturing to Caroline.

As though feeling his eyes on her, she turns to face us.

“Everything all right?” she asks sweetly, the hard set of her mouth not matching her tone.

Vin grins at her. It’s the same one he gave me in the van; all sex and charm. “It’s amazing.”

“We were just talking about how nice it is to be warm and dry.” I agree, smiling at her.

“Wonderful.” She doesn’t believe a word of it. “Well, that’s the end of the tour. Let’s move on to dinner, shall we? It’ll be a great chance for you to meet new people.”

We start to file out of the room, Breanne following the three pretties like a happy puppy, Nats following warily and Vin and I bringing up the rear.

“’New people’?” I whisper to him. “They’re going to separate us again.”

“You cold and wet a lot, Kitten?”

I frown at him, startled by the question. “What are you talking about?”

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t know. Yeah. Everyone is.”

“No,” he replies, his tone low. “Not everyone is. Nats isn’t. Breanne isn’t. I’m not.”

“You’re in The Hive, that’s completely different. That’s practically a Colony.”

He glares at me. “We’re not the Colonies.”

“You know what I mean. The size of your gang compared to the others is huge. You don’t have to hide like a lot of us do. In fact, you pretty much advertise your location. We all know where you are but none of us are dumb enough to come at you. I can’t light fires half the time because someone is bound to see the smoke and in case you haven’t noticed, this is the Pacific Northwest. It tends to rain a bit. So yeah, I’m cold and wet a lot.”

He shakes his head, looking annoyed. “You should join The Hive. You’re a beautiful girl. You’re high currency.” He looks me up and down, taking in every curve of my body. “You’re a hundred dollar bill, Kitten. An item would have to be pretty rare for The Hive to be willing to burn a Benjamin like you.”

I scowl at him. “Is that supposed to be flattering?”

“It’s supposed to be honest. And it is. I’m not stroking your ego, I’m being real. You’d hardly have to work. You’d be a trophy piece more than anything else. You’d be warm and dry, better fed.”

“Why is everyone trying to save me lately? Ryan, the Colonists, you. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Who’s Ryan?”

“No one.” I grumble.

Vin grins wickedly. He nudges my shoulder as we walk. “You got yourself a guy, Kitten?”

“No.”

He watches me and waits.

“Maybe.” I admit grudgingly. “I don’t know. Kind of.”

He shakes his head sadly. “Giving it away for free.”

“You’re warped.”

“Is he an independent too?”

“No, he’s got a crew.”

“And they don’t know about you, do they?”

I shake my head fiercely.

“What crew does he run with?”

“I don’t actually know their name. I just know where they are.”

“Really? Where are they?”

I give him a long, blank stare. What am I? New? Ryan didn’t sell me out, I won’t sell him out. I owe him that much.

Vin chuckles. I nearly stumble forward when he suddenly slings his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close beside him.

“Good girl.” he murmurs, giving me a squeeze.

They keep us fat and happy for another two weeks. Every meal is delicious, hot and filling, every night is spent in a soft bed with a warm blanket, and we’re allowed a hot shower once per week. It is Heaven and it is Hell.

I’m not doing well with all these people. I’m barely sleeping and Vin is sometimes all the company I can handle at meals. They tried to make it easier for me initially by putting me in outdoor jobs. First it was the greenhouse and the gardens where I learned to pull weeds and water plants. Not much is growing right now but they say we have to make sure we have seeds to plant for next year and prep the soil for the spring. There is still broccoli, kale and even a few hearty pumpkins that have outlasted the drop in temperature that are growing and need tending. Other than that, though, gardening is as boring as I’ve always imagined it. I “accidentally” break two clay pots in the greenhouse and I’m promptly kicked out.