A Thousand Nights with You - 12. Suicide squad

Day 55

I woke up with a cry.

Something is pounding loudly outside the windows. Mark gasped and jolts from his sleep.

I don’t know if my eyes are opened or closed. It is total darkness.

Howling and pounding outside. The wet, icy bite of the wind spills into the room. I crawled back, feeling Mark’s hands on my arms. Slowly, my eyes adjust and I see outlines in the dark shadows. I can vaguely make out his silhouette.

“Calm down.” He says, even though he sounds as breathless as me. I try to say something, but I can’t. I am almost hyperventilating.

It’s just the wind and the hail rattling against the broken window. Not the infected tearing down our doors. But still, my heart can’t stop pounding.

I try to catch my breath. I am close to tears with relief. “Fuck.. I thought…”

“Hush, Dan. Hush...”

Mark holds me for a while until I feel the panic leaves my body. He stands up and moves away, feeling his way in the dark.

“Where are you going?” I asked, feeling scared to be alone in this darkness.

“Get our clothes away from the rain.” He said.

In a few hours, we would be diving back deep into the sea of infected. We need to catch whatever sleep we can. Hopefully, our clothes will be dry by then. The last thing I want to be is cold, hungry and tired when I’m facing the infected. As soon as the fear subsides, I could feel the biting chill of the rain outside.

Autumn is approaching. It must be late August now or even September. I count the days but lost track of dates. Months, years, time of the day, none of these matters anymore. What counts now are the remaining days of sunlight and warmth we have. The nights are already getting longer and colder these days.

Mark led me to a corner against the wall, as far away from the windows as possible. Even though I know it’s the wind howling in the dark, it still scares the shit out of me.

“How do you sleep like this?” I asked.

For the past week, I was in a comfortable bedroll with Tristan. His body is warm like a stove and the room is cosy. Mark slept here alone in this empty room with broken windows.

“I was knocked out. They made me carry beams and bricks the whole day.” He said.

“We need some warm clothes real soon.” I said.

“How? I can barely afford food and water.” He asked. With the weather turning chilly, clothes are emptying from the store rapidly. It costs twice as much as to keep warm than to eat within a few days. We have to choose between freezing and starving.

I felt guilty. Tristan is watching out for me, but no one is watching out for Mark.

“I’ll keep you warm for now.” I said.

He holds me as I bury myself in his chest. I didn’t realize I am trembling until he holds me tightly.

“We’ll keep each other warm.” He said.

And for the remaining hours in the darkness, we did just that. We can’t see each other. But we share our body heat, skin to skin. For a brief moment, I thought he kissed my forehead. Ever since the infection broke out, neither my heart nor my body felt this warm.

The rain stops shortly after the dawn. Only a slight drizzle remains. A ray of light breaks through the dark foreboding clouds. It’s as if the sky hasn’t quite finished pouring its woes on the world. Despite the cold, the morning air smells fresh. At least the water tanks will be filled and drinking water will be cheaper for the next few days.

When the warmth of first light falls on our faces, relief and dread came over me at the same time. The cold finally lets up, but our perilous journey later can very well be our last. I can feel his heart beat hasten as well. He is just as frightened as I am. When the first lark starts to sing, he breaks the silence.

“I was in seventh grade when my mother left me. It was on a day like this.”

I stirred in his arms. “It’s cold and rainy too?”

He nods. A soft sigh, almost inaudible, escapes his lips.

“She didn’t even bother to pay the bills. Graham was already in college and dad was deployed in Iraq. For days, there isn’t any water, lights or heat. The nights are cold. I asked my neighbours for help, and they told me to call my own family. But mom isn’t picking my calls. Graham is a few hundred miles away and dad even further.”

Mark was lonely when he first found me, but he never lets it on. He must have steeled himself after all these years.

“At first I enjoyed the freedom. No school, no rules, until food and water runs out as well. Mom still hasn’t come home. She ran off with someone else. I called my school teacher for help.”

He paused for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts. Then he said, “In the end, Dad got a transfer back home. But I will never forget those cold nights alone, and how it felt like to beg people. It’s just me and dad in the end. That’s why to me, nothing matters more than family.”

Until now, Mark never talks about losing his dad. It must be too painful for him to feel it right now. Telling me all this is probably as close as he will get to dealing with his grief. I quietly hold the space for him to let it out, letting my body comfort him instead of words. He felt my embrace and gently holds me closer. I can almost hear his quiet tears.

“Part of me didn’t want you to find Tristan. When you jumped in, ready to die with me, I felt like I have a family again.”

“You still do, Mark.” I said softly. “In Africa, they say it’s not blood that makes you family. It’s what you do for each other.”

I told him about the story where my family stayed in this village for two years. Dad was working on a community project to build up their sanitation system. They are poor but everyone watches out for everyone. They don’t lock their doors at night. After a year with them, they greet us as their brothers and sister.

Just like this, we speak quietly of the past. We didn’t want to linger on what we have lost, but what we still have. After a while, I realize he is smiling throughout.

“Is it something funny that I’ve said?” I asked.

“No. I’m just feeling happy.”

“About what?”

“About having a roof over my head and having a warm body to cuddle in this cold.” He said.

I smiled back at him.

I realized we don’t need a lot of things to be happy. We just need to see what we already have. And both of us are seeing them right now. Mark will have to get used to my adoring eyes. He can’t say things like that and expect me not to feel anything. He didn’t flinch from my gaze, but I’d imagine that awkward smile is a blush and not him freaking out. He stares at the ceiling for a moment, eyes wistful like he’s in deep thoughts. He starts talking again.

“Sometimes, we fall in love for the wrong reasons. I’ve learnt that when I was with Beth. She reminds me too much of my mom. Feelings fade after a while. You can grow tired of a pretty face or a hot body. In the end, it’s those who stick around that matter. Especially in a world like this.”

I wonder how much of that is meant for me. Is he telling me he doesn’t believe in love? Or is he trying to say he’d rather have me as his little brother? I wanted to ask him to explain.

Then we hear a commotion building up outside.

The morning patrol calls out everyone by knocking on their doors. Usually, this means it’s time start the day for work. But not today.

“Town hall day everyone! Assemble in the school hall in five.”

They speak as if everyone knows what’s going on. We come out from our room as soon as we put back on our damp clothes. Mark grabs Jody and asks him if he knows what’s going on. His room mate, a scrawny looking school teacher, fills us in about what’s going on.

Everyone is heading towards the school halls, soldiers and civilians, to listen to the Colonel make important announcements. It is also the day where everyone voices their needs; medicines, clothes, food for the supply run missions to take note of. There is no guarantee they will find it. Even if they do, few can actually afford them. It’s like making a wish list for Santa. It gives people something to hope for. More importantly, the town hall lets them blow off some steam.

Mark and I take our time to get there. Both of us want to savour this peaceful moment a little longer. We end up taking a detour towards the hall, taking in the quiet southern fields as we stroll along. Both of us are alone, walking shoulder to shoulder, enjoying the quiet moment together.

“We smell like wet dogs.” I sniff the damp shirt he is wearing.

“I smell like wet dog. You smell like a puppy.” Mark looks at me and smiles.

He has been wearing Tristan’s white shirt for the past week doing hard labour. Now it’s hardly white and soaked up in a week’s worth of grime and sweat. It would’ve been worst if he hadn’t washes it yesterday in the rain. Right now, his musk lingers all over and I find myself inhaling him in. He chuckles as I keep leaning forward and sniff him like a puppy.

After last night, I feel I understand him a little better. He doesn’t seem to think much about relationships. His mom left when he’s young and the girl he liked didn’t really care about him. It was just sex and vendetta on her cheating boyfriend.

As he walks silently beside me, taking everything in his stride, I realise his stoic resolve hides something more vulnerable than he cares to show. Like me, he isn’t scared to throw himself into the face of death. But nothing is scarier than to be left alone in this world. To him, someone who sticks around is more important than someone who’s crazy about him. Perhaps what he’s trying to say is that his affections for me may not be romantic, but to him, it’s something far more precious. I feel a lot better if I think about it this way. At least he cares.

As we walk, I felt his little finger twirled around my pinkie. I think he meant to hold my hand. Just when my heart skips a beat, he raises his hand and points to the distance.

“What is he doing?” He said.

From afar, I recognize that red headed soldier walking across the fields, heading towards the dumpster. He’s the one who took out Felicia and was arguing with Grey yesterday.

“Why does he look so shifty?” He asks. The red headed soldier seems to be looking around to see if anyone notices him.

“Maybe he heard the Colonel’s speech a thousand times and he doesn’t buy the bullshit?” I said.

Mark shrugged as we move on.

We enter the school hall and find ourselves in a noisy crowd. It’s the same place we came on the first day. They have cleaned the last traces of Felicia’s blood on the polished wooden floor. There are only about a hundred odd people or so, it’s easy to spot Jody brooding in a corner. We joined him, and soon Tristan did as well.

My brother and I talk a little and he gives me a run down about the town hall sessions. This is our first time going to one. The Colonel will make his announcements and the supply run team leaders will pick their members. Meanwhile all around us, angry men are venting their grievances to the person next to them.

People in this community rarely talks to each other, but everyone seems to have something to complain about.

‘What are we going to do about winter?’

‘How are we going to keep warm?’

‘What are we going to eat?’

I share their pain. We are not the only ones fearing the turn of the season. Few of us can afford warm clothes and there are far too few to go around.

When the Colonel finally goes up to the stage, they fired questions after questions at him. Bread and butter issues like clean water, heat, food, almost everything came up in the open. Even some of the soldiers join in the dissenting voices. Clearly, the Colonel is not a governor. People question his priority to shore up the wall’s defences instead of worrying about food and heat. He talks to the people like they are soldiers, saying things like we must never underestimate our enemies and people needs to deal with the brutal truths. To many of these men who never left the walls, the brutal truths for them is cold and hunger.

My brother said the problem is that everyone needs something but few are willing to risk their lives to get it. Most people sign up for runs in known and explored places. But these places have been long stripped clean of supplies. Right now, the growing resentment is palpable. Even the Colonel looks unnerved when he tries to calm the angry voices.

“Supplies don’t drop from the air.” His voice booms as he surveys the mob. Everyone quiets down to listen to him. The Colonel remains silent until he is satisfied that he has everybody’s attention. Then he said, “We have looted every house in this neighbourhood. We need volunteers to conduct more scouting runs.”

He asks for a show of hands, but few responded. Unchartered runs are often fatal, few teams come back intact.

“No one at all?” He said.

One bespectacled man with thinning hair steps forward and said, “You should limit the number of clothes the soldiers can own. They are buying everything. Even a blanket now costs a limb.”

There are quite a few concurring voices and nodding heads in the crowd.

“Yeah, have a ration system or something.” Another voice said.

“We civilians freeze while your soldiers stayed warm!”

The Colonel stabs his finger at the crowd. “If you want something, you put your neck out there like my soldiers. They earned it fair and square. If you want to stay safe with these walls, then don’t expect any charity.”

The crowd gets divided again. Some sees the Colonel’s point. And I hate to admit it, I’m one of them. Supplies don’t drop from the skies. If everyone gets what they need without risking their necks, who will go for these runs anymore? Some people think its basic human rights to have access to essentials like food, water and shelter from the elements. Even though I’m only fifteen, I’ve lived in Africa long enough to know that nature doesn’t respect human rights.

This time, when he asks for volunteers again, a few more reluctant hands rise. From their tired faces and emaciated bodies, I know these are desperate people. For them, it’s a choice between a slow death from the elements and a quick death from the infected.

The Colonel asks me to produce food for two hundred but there aren’t more than a hundred and twenty people in this whole place. That means he plans to stockpile food for the coming winter. If this growing dissent is any sign at all, things will turn violent when winter comes.

After a few heated arguments with the vocal individuals, the Colonel starts to address everyone again.

“There is a special run that we will run today. It is a retrieval run. Once we have it, we might solve the food problem for winter. This will let us prioritize future runs for clothes and blankets. The retrieval is in the Holborn district. Sergeant Greyson will lead this. I need experienced volunteers.”

The mere mention of Holborn sends the crowd murmuring.

‘That’s suicide!’

‘It’s right in the city centre. This is crazy.’

‘There must hundreds and thousands of them.’

“I will go.” Mark’s voice echoes the hall as the crowd go silent. Then Tristan said.

“So will I.”

Grey leans against the wall. He looks at the both of them and straightens up.

“Tristan is fine. But I need someone experienced, preferably a medic and a good scout. There will be a new boy travelling with us. I can’t keep so many rookies safe. Not on a mission like this.” He said.

“I’m familiar with that area and I know what Dan needs to take. Both of us escaped from there.” Mark said.

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Many of them never left the school walls. Eyes turn towards us, some curious, some in awe, other seem to be embolden that we made it here alive. As if to tip the crowd sentiment further, the Colonel adds his voice.

“Volunteers for this run will be awarded twice the points.”

Loud whispers filled the hall. A few more hands shot up in the air, some soldiers even. Jody is one of them. The other one surprises me. It is Grace, Martha’s assistant in the greenhouse. My fellow whore.

I look at Tristan but he didn’t seem surprised. Apparently, there must be more to the grouchy woman for Grey to pick her over burlier men like Jody.

“Do they even allow women to go on runs?” I asked. From the way they treat Felicia, I’d imagine they will lock up the remaining ones. Many women escaped during the runs because they are forced to prostitute themselves. One of them is pregnant, the couple who killed the soldier hiding in our apartment block. I wonder if they are still alive.

I thought Colonel will not agree. But he seems really desperate. He gives Grey a grudging nod after he spoke to her.

“She was one of the few experienced combat medics around here.” Tristan explained.

“She’s a soldier? I thought she was a nurse or something.” I said.

“You can say that. But she has seen some real shit. I saw her amputate a soldier while the infected were swarming the school. I’ll go with her for the run.”

“Why do they even need a medic? One bite and you are a goner in minutes.” Jody said.

“Not if they amputate you in time.” Tristan said. Jody and Mark’s faces turned cold that very second.

“It won’t be so bad, Dan. We survived it, remember?” Mark tries to reassure me, but he doesn’t look very sure himself.

“We lost so many people.” I said.

“I don’t want to scare you Dan, but supply runs are different.” Tristan said. “You need to get a vehicle in and out if you need to carry the whole bulk back. There’s no way we can make it back on foot with so many things.”

“How are we going to drive into the city centre with so many infected around?” Mark gasped. We remembered many of the roads are choked with abandoned cars. A moving vehicle will probably wake the entire horde of infected from their hibernation.

Tristan shakes his and says we will have to hear what Grey has in mind. If we are going to survive this, we’ll have to work as a team and no one can afford to screw up.

After that conversation, Jody didn’t seem so keen on the run anymore. I thought it’s for the best. I need him here to continue working on the racks, the algae tanks and condensers while we’re gone. If we make it back alive, I will need to get the cultivation up immediately.

Shortly after, Grey asked me, Tristan and Mark to join him and Grace in the Quartermaster’s office. From his tired eyes and all the drawings he made on the wall, it seems that Grey was up all night planning for this mission. For the first time, he lost that dazed lifeless look. He has a focus and a mission now. Either that, he has a death wish and the Colonel has given him exactly what he wanted.

Grey smiles at me when our eyes met. He looks at me so tenderly that I wonder if he’s looking at his wife instead.

“Good to see you again, Daniel.”

“Me too, Grey.”

“Colonel Walters spoke to me last night. I’m surprised you had winter all sorted out for us.” He said.

“I hope so, for all of our sakes.”

Grey takes a deep breath, eyes cast down. He must be thinking about his wife again. And I was right. He holds my cheek as if he forgets who I am. We exchanged an awkward smile as I realize Tristan and Mark are staring at us.

Grey looks like someone I can count on when shit hits the fan, and I hope he’s lucid enough when the time comes. He is a professional soldier who had seen his fair share of war and carnage. We might survive this with him around. At least that’s what I keep telling myself until I saw the plans he drew on the white board.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Suicide Squad.” Grey announced.

For the first time, I actually see Grace’s face cracks up into a smile. None of us finds this funny at all. Grey isn’t smiling, so he probably isn’t joking about the squad name.

For about half an hour, he briefed us on our roles and how the operation will run. Tristan will be the scout and the sniper. He will be issued with a pair of night vision goggles, binoculars and a long range weapon with a silencer. His role is to sneak up, tell us what’s ahead, and takes out any obstructing infected without waking up the rest.

Grey is the weapon specialist and the team leader. Throughout the mission, we will have to trust his judgment without any arguments. A tactical team is like a machine, things fall apart when the parts acts on their own. He has seen entire teams die because of that. Grenades, assault rifles, ammos will be carried by him. If he has to use them to defend ourselves, then we’re most likely dead already. He will be our last resort.

Grace is our medic. She seems so different from the grouchy middle aged whore I thought she was. Her lips are pursed and her eyes are set and intense. After what Tristan told me, I realize that scowl on her face is her mark of endurance. She isn’t motherly like Martha, but I know she will give us the tough love we need when the time comes. She will carry a light, silenced weapon, morphine, surgical saws, needles and sutures. I hope she’ll never have to use them.

Meanwhile, Mark and I will be the mules. We will carry the backpacks to retrieve the things we need. The rest will help when the time comes but if the situation turns ugly, we will focus only on packing up the things we need. Both of us will not have any guns, but we’ll have a melee weapon – a crowbar or a baseball to get us out of tight corners. I asked for my old pike. A small boy like me won’t d much damage with a swing.

On top of that, we will also carry for the entire team, one day’s worth of supplies - food, water and most importantly, army powders to hide our scent.

As Grey speaks, uneasiness settles in my chest. I’m clear about the roles, but the drawings on the whiteboard disturb me. I put up my hand to ask a question. Mark and Tristan sniggered. I didn’t know why until Grey spoke.

“Just ask away Daniel. You’re not in a classroom.”

I withdrew my hand, feeling slightly embarrassed when I spoke. “Erm, Grey. How do you plan to drive that army rover into Holborn? Most of the roads are choked with cars, if not swarmed with the infected. There’s no way we can sneak past them.”

He cocks his head and a gives me a crooked smile. It’s as if he’s waiting for me to ask that question.

“We don’t. We’re going to crash straight into them.”