A Thousand Nights with You - 30. The winter council

Day 465

First snow came early this year, unless we have counted our days wrongly. Few people bothered to track the dates anymore, only the seasons mattered. For us, it mattered because our winter store would be a few weeks short of crops. But as far as the rest of the settlement is concerned, it only meant tighter winter rationing. It wasn’t too big a problem since no one had hunted or fished much over the last few months. We could easily supplement our food supplies if we get our asses frozen once in a while.

Peter helped us built a tiny greenhouse so that we can grow some hydroponic crops throughout winter. Every new house comes with it, just in case the settlement is overrun and everyone got trapped in their stilted houses. Despite the mismatched glasses and odd design, it’s pretty sturdy and insulated, warmer than our shanty home in fact. And by now our kitchen is like a witch’s lair, there are jars on every shelf. Some to ferment fruits, to extract oils for cooking and washing, to cultivating yeast for baking and we even made our own version of soda pop. We learnt it from Felicia, and she learnt it from the man selling sodas at the market. It’s basically fermenting sugar, adding yeast into it so it gives off that fizzy taste. And to Mark’s very pleasant surprise, it turns into beer when you ferment it long enough.

Mark surprised me one day when he carved a gravestone for my parents. He said he had his Dad’s dog tags to remember him by, but I had nothing. So we erected the stone next to our garden and lay flowers to it. My brother came to visit when I told him about it. It didn’t matter even if it was an empty grave. Both of us needed that closure.

It was a very sweet gesture from Mark. Neither of us thought about putting up a grave because we never really wanted to believe our parents were gone. Tristan spent a whole afternoon, quietly sobbing by the grave. Even Felicia brought Adam to introduce him to Grandpa and Grandma. Despite the cold, we sat around by the patio, looking at the grave, feeling like we were thirty and married with kids when everyone except Mark was just teenagers pretending to be adults. It was nice to see my brother dropping by so frequently while the snow wasn’t too deep. In another month or so, it would be too hard to shovel anything beyond our yard. It would be a lonely winter until Spring arrives again. It didn’t take too long for Tristan to carve one for Francesca, I still remembered Felicia’s Mom. I told him to put the headstone here since they’re kind of married so that makes her family. Besides, that would give them more reasons to come visit us. Felicia did one for Jody, since he didn’t have anyone to remember him. Then Peter found out, and then Grey. Soon, the land outside our garden becomes a mini-cemetery. Mark and I didn’t really mind. We felt safer with the dead watching over us actually.

Most couples called each other nicknames like honey, sweetheart, baby, angel etc, but Mark called me his little piggy. For some reason, I’m eating a lot again (by today’s standards, of course). On average, I have two baked potatoes, fifteen nuts, a slice of dried fruit, a bowl of vegetable stew and a slab of goat cheese per day - enough to feed three starving children. It didn’t help when I’m in charge of the kitchen and winter rationing. My appetite hadn’t been so big ever since we were just recovering from Chimera when our hormones were trying to catch up with our newly restored bodily functions.

Mark started to get irritable lately. He said we’re going to empty the larder well before Christmas at the rate I’m bingeing.

“Why not you take over the kitchen then?” I said, knowing full well that he is hopeless at cooking. That evening, I was punished with a carrot stew with the whole carrot barely cooked, unsliced and with bits of soil still clinging on to the skin.

“Why waste so much time for food preparation since it’s going down our throats in seconds?” That’s his explanation for cooking the worst stew ever in human history. So the kitchen ended up being my domain again. I suspect he did it on purpose as part of his grand scheme to turn me into a Stepford housewife. If I’m not careful, he would throw me on with an apron and a dress.

Whenever he caught me raiding the larder, I would blame it on the cold, or that I’m a growing boy. It made him feel guilty for starving a kid. Truth is I didn’t know why I am bingeing. I felt hungry, but I didn’t really feel it in my stomach. Perhaps it’s because I’m bored and there aren’t many things to do indoors. It’s so cold outside that we didn’t even feel like going out to the patio anymore. We tried to kill time by tending to the greenhouse and chopping firewood even though our storeroom was full. But everything was done by mid-morning. Mark took it upon himself to do some winter fishing and hunting wild games to keep up with my appetite.

“You don’t have to freeze your ass. I’ll stick to the ration.” I told him. And this time, I meant it. At most, I could take on some work to feed myself. He frowned like I insulted his pride and said that’s his job.

“Besides, most of the winter missions didn’t require us since the infected were going into hibernation anyway. “ He added.

“Nah, I’ll rather snack on your sausage.” I leered. At least he seemed satisfied with that answer.

I was quite determined to curb my bingeing because I wanted to melt away the last of my baby fats. We already looked ridiculous holding hands with Mark being almost a foot taller than me. I can’t wait to look older so that people would stop asking if I was his kid brother when we hold hands.

So, I found other ways to kill time. Mostly trying to read the books Grace gave me - trying because Mark couldn’t leave me alone for a single second. He would rest his chin on my shoulders, make silly faces or rub his stubbles against my cheek to distract me. No wonder they said marriage is such hard work. He needs more attention than a puppy. And if I ignore him, he would pull down my pants, and I would run away, and he would chase me, and I would cry rape, and he would cackle like a maniac and both of us would be running around the house like lunatics. Now I know why so many women got pregnant last winter. It wasn’t adrenaline-arousal effect like Grace said – people finding each other more attractive because of their shared danger and fears. It was simply boredom. There’s nothing else to do in winter but to play silly erotic games.

So that’s what happened when Sister Latoya barged in - a shovel in hand, poised to strike, thinking that I was really crying for help but only to find Mark’s legendary schlong, red and angry, pointing straight into her face. I didn’t know who was more traumatised - she looking like she got blinded by Satan, or him looking shell-shocked by the amount of expletives spewing out from her mouth – all in the same sentence as Jesus Christ and the rest of his family tree.

Despite catching me doing something very adult, I was apparently still on her ‘to-fatten-up-by-Christmas’ list of kids. She brought me a huge jar of home-made peanut butter that Mark claimed had caused the substantial wet patch on our patio. I called him an idiot and said it was just the snow on the roof. I wasn’t drooling.

Really. I swear.

Mark happily accepted it, which was unusual since he didn’t really have much of a sweet tooth. It wasn’t until later when he gave me a dirty look that I realized he wasn’t thinking about eating the peanut butter at all. I mouthed something dangerous to him if he even think about getting it anywhere near my rear.

I suggested walking Sister Latoya back since I figured I won’t get any reading done today. I didn’t know if it’s the cold, the boredom or if he is just getting stir-crazy from being cooped indoors. He was unusually frisky lately. My spike in appetite, his sudden horniness – it could be boredom, but it could be our hormones acting all crazy again. We hadn’t experienced that since we were just recovering and so I thought it’s high time for us to go for a medical check-up again. Besides, we realized Grace hadn’t examined us for a few weeks.

The medical facility was like a madhouse when we arrived. A lot of pregnant women were due and nurses were screaming and running everywhere. We heard people yelling for a syringe, for morphine, for a spare cot, for hot water. The waiting room was so packed that some patients had to wait outside in the snow. It felt more like a gynaecologist clinic than a hospital. I shot Mark a glare when he gave me a silly grin and rubbed my tummy suggestively. We waited for three hours but Grace only came out for a few seconds, just to tell us to come back two days later. The clinic would be closed since there would be a winter council. She would have time to check on us after that. In fact, both of us should attend because she put up the case to end both of our quarantine so that we can move into the new residential cluster. Mark and I shrugged. It’s not fun going out in the cold, but it’s not like we have anything better to do.

“Everything okay for you?” She asked.

Mark said that we were fine. “A little healthier than expected, perhaps.”

Right, maybe I’m being paranoid. Eating well and getting frisky is just part of being young. Isn’t it?

Day 467

This morning, Mark woke up really grouchy. He stared at me for a long time, not a glare, and not his usual amused look either. I didn’t want to walk into the council hall later funnily because my brother would spot it immediately and tease me till next winter. So I quickly got dressed before Mark gets any ideas. For some reason, he was getting pretty rough in bed. I didn’t know what had gotten into him.

Despite having had our breakfast, my stomach was growling by the time we reached the Council halls. It was a pretty large turnout despite the mini-hail storm pelting the long lines of people wrapped in fur. Mark felt visibly uncomfortable by the crowd. I don’t know why. By now their scent shouldn’t affect us anymore since we’re on the medication. I asked him if he was okay, but he simply shrugged. At that time, I thought maybe the place was stuffy since the heater was actually working.

My brother and our friends were there when we arrived. We didn’t come for the last two council meetings because we were still under Cat 1 quarantine order – meaning no public appearances. We are Cat 2 now, so we can go anywhere as long as we were escorted.

The Council hall was built in the heart of the residential cluster - a large complex at the centre of multiple rings of stilted houses. It was both a residential zone and a fort. The little balconies on the stilted houses were strategically placed to take down the infected with long spears equipped inside the houses. By now, people were pretty used to us or perhaps they can’t tell us apart from the others unless they paid attention to our eyes. Those who never interacted with us before wouldn’t come near, but they wouldn’t freak out either. It was perfectly fine by us since we didn’t have to squeeze through the crowd to get a good seat. They parted ways for us like the Red Sea did for Moses.

Tristan said the Council convenes publicly at the turn of every season. Since the council members weren’t voted in, important policies and decisions had to be made publicly so that there won’t be any mutiny or dissent. The six council seats were arranged in a semi-circle facing the gallery. It’s like a mini-parliament in progress. Mark shifted in his seat uneasily. He seemed distracted and on edge, sweats pouring down his face for no reason. The room wasn’t that hot.

My brother called the seats ‘the guillotine’ because heads will roll by the end of each proceeding. In the early days when Major Payne made all the important decisions by himself, he had to suffer endless queues of disgruntled refugees outside his office, complaining about sanitation, about food, about housing dispute and one resident even complained about not being able to sleep with all the infected moaning below. Now with the council of six established, each had a fair share of shit being thrown at them. No kidding. Someone literally threw a bag of shit at Katrina when she announced the final layout of the rezoned settlement and the houses that needed to be bulldozed. She was the architect who came from Atlantis, and she was put in charge of settlement development and planning. It was the shittiest job ever. And you could see it on her face when she entered the stage – she looked like she was bracing herself for execution.

Following her were two familiar faces; Grey and Grace. Grey was the youngest in the council, and no doubt the most popular judging by the crowd’s reaction. They credited him for being the first settlement to break the mysteriously coordinated siege by the infected horde earlier this year. He was already famous when they made him a celebrity, with that propaganda video about our fight at the Cathedral. After the new barricade wall was erected, he established a simple military doctrine that proved to be extremely effective against the infected. I was surprised when Tristan told me he named it the ‘Reynolds Doctrine.’

“Why did he name it after you?” I asked my brother.

“He didn’t. He named it after you.” He said.

It was based on three simple principles; 1) to make use of natural obstacles or create them, 2) always keep the infected within line of sight and 3) effective deployment of snipers. A lot of soldiers were trained in trench warfare and their mentality is to seek maximum cover and concealment. The problem is the infected don’t use bullets and they would take the shortest route to get you, even if it was inaccessible. So if they can’t see you, they will smell you instead. That’s why the infected brought down so many barricades and doors simply because it was the last thing they were hitting on. Everyone just followed the herd until the defences crumbled under their sheer weight. It was a simple doctrine, but it proved to be the turning point for those settlements long under siege. They wasted many bullets concentrating their fire around their gates and the sheer weight of the horde could bring down the sturdiest walls. So instead of hiding behind doors and barricades, they planted soldiers openly along the top of the walls, on windows, or the side of the cliffs so as to spread them out and thin their numbers once they were within reach. We sent them supplies, but showed them that primitive weapons like spears worked better than guns during siege. The noises riled the horde and only would attract more of them. Bullets were reserved for the snipers to take out the dark ones. So we managed to save the surrounding settlements without sparing much bullets or costing us any lives. As a result, Sandpoint had a close knit of allies and trading partners around us.

Grey seemed to have a pretty easy time for a council head. Infected activity was low because it’s winter. Crime was low since everyone got fed and the settlement was well-stocked from our scavenging runs. Other than several unexplained outbreaks occurring in our allied settlements, there was nothing else of interest in his agenda. No one knew how they started but only a small conclave of survivors got overrun by it.

When it came to Grace’s turn, she looked as if she hadn’t slept for days. She first started with a glowing report about the vast improvements in mortality rates and massive drops in sanitation and nutrition related diseases. But her face looked like she was reporting about a plane crash. Her tone changed even harsher when she warned that our settlement wasn’t ready for the population explosion this month. There were too many sudden births and we can’t handle it. A portly gentleman to her right corrected her by saying it’s not sudden since she had projected it based on the pregnancy rate at the autumn council. Everyone in the gallery laughed.

“That’s Morrison. Head of Labour, major asshole.” Tristan whispered to me.

It didn’t take me long to realize why he was being so bitchy. Grace was trying to build a case to divert more manpower into healthcare. She implored for more doctors, especially paediatricians. The clinic is now so flooded with pregnant women and babies that they didn’t even have time to treat coughs and flus. And she desperately needs a proper day care centre if Morrison expected to put these women to work right after their births. Major Payne was dozing off until he heard his name being mentioned.

“You want Paediatricians? Who’s going to train them? Payne?” Morrison throws up his hands. “If you can spare a doctor to teach, then I’m sure you can manage with the patient load.”

Payne was responsible for job skills retraining programmes. His education portfolio apparently extends beyond school children. Since most of our residents were white collared workers, they had no useful skills for this age. They had to be taught how to use a saw and a hammer. Morrison rattled on, saying that resources would be better off assigned to food production and settlement construction. Let’s worry about the productive work force before we worry about the dependents. Grace and Grey were visibly peeved at that time, and we knew why. It sounded too much like what Walters would have said. But Grace grit her teeth, kept her anger in check and reasoned that doctors could be trained on the job, starting from basic nursing duties. Morrison then threw the ball at Katrina, saying that he had to keep to her food production and construction timeline. If she agreed to shift those timeline backwards, he would reassign people to the hospital and orphanage. Everyone turned to look at her, and I could see Katrina’s face turning white. Shifting the timeline meant less food and less solar panel installed during the winter, which also meant less heating for the cold nights. She would be suicidal to say yes to that.

Mark stifled a big yawn. Tristan looked like he was about to whip out a popcorn.

“Politics.” He sniggered like he was introducing an embarrassing relative to me.

The crowd was divided at this point. Some women voiced their support for Grace while many others were more concerned about food and heating. It took some time to restore order in the council gallery. I was fascinated by all the cat-fighting over competing priorities. Now I know why so many people came despite the weather and boring agenda. With no TV and theatres, everyone came here for their dose of dramas. In the end, everyone was surprised when Payne made a very sensible proposal.

“We obviously need the manpower to keep us fed and warm.” He rubbed his temples as if all this commotion was wearing him out. “So why not we recruit more people into our settlement – say by thirty or so? Not a lot of mouths to feed, but enough to keep healthcare and childcare operational.”

And since it’s winter, it’s easier to go on scavenging and recruitment runs. No wonder they said Payne was smarter than he lets on. Imagine all these flaks would have been directed at him if he hadn’t relinquished his authority to the Council. Katrina looked so relief like she missed the shit by an inch.

The sixth council member was in charge of judicial affairs - disputes, appeals and the maintenance of public services. It was a wiry man named Wyatts. He would be the one to authorize our move to the residential cluster. Grace put up the proposal to end our quarantine, Grey had to endorse and support it. And if it goes through, that would mean running water, heated rooms, electricity and neighbours for us. Not to mention our very own rooftop greenhouse. Mark didn’t look too excited. Probably it’s because it meant that we would have to keep our volume down and we couldn’t fart whenever we wanted.

Each house was built for eight persons to live in. A family would need at least six members to claim one for their own or merge with other households. So we won’t be lonely during winter after all. Since Sister Latoya stays with the orphans, we would be staying in the same house as Grace, Peter, Grey, Felicia, my brother and little Adam. Grace is hardly at home since she spends most nights at the medical facility. And since they have electricity, I could scavenge some Playstation so that I could play video games with my brother. I was rather excited by the whole idea of it.

It was supposed to be a five minute agenda, and we didn’t expect anyone to object. But the crowd soon started to mutter when they heard the ‘rehabilitated infected’ would be living among them. Most of the settlement folks had never seen or talked to us. As far as they were concerned, we were simply spies from the other side. Useful, but not to be trusted.

Grace tried to ease the crowd by saying that adequate measures were put in place to ensure the resident’s safety. We would be housed in the outer most ring and the adjacent connecting bridges to other households would be withdrawn by default. Mark looked pretty pissed by the crowd’s reaction – he thought the residents would be a little more grateful for our contributions. Tristan stood up from the crowd and yelled that the settlement wouldn’t have solar panels and sewage pipes if we hadn’t made it possible to scavenge those raw materials. Someone else stood up and yelled back saying who would be responsible if an outbreak occurred in the resident cluster. Peter called them ingrates. Felicia called them idiots - we are right amongst them and they didn’t even know it. Soon, the council meeting turned from a fish market to a pub brawl.

Guards were trying to restore order when people started pushing each other around. Mark was strangely ambivalent and detached, but suddenly he stood up, ran up the aisle and grabbed a man off his chair and punched him hard in the face. I was shocked by his sudden act of violence. And shortly after, the man started foaming at the mouth and his eyes turned red.

It couldn’t be. The man was turning.

I didn’t see what exactly happened but I’m sure Mark didn’t bite or scratched him. He was lucid, I was sure of that. If he had slipped into the hive mind I would have known. Before he could take the man down, two guards restrained Mark and the newly infected man started to bite another person. It was too late by the time they realized what was happening.

Screams. People trampled over each other. The bridges and ladders retracted automatically like it would for an outbreak protocol. I saw people pushed each other over the stilted platforms, fracturing themselves over the fall. Tristan tried to drag me to safety, but I told him to get himself out of there first. Mark was still in shock and I had stop this outbreak.

It had been so long since I done this. I tried to get into the hive mind but I was too heavily medicated to control the spread. By the time I pacified an infected, another turned. And when the guards finally subdued them, I almost passed out from exhaustion.

“Get them to the medical facility!” Grace ordered the guards. We were being dragged away like criminals.

That was the last thing I remembered until I woke up in the same locked room as we first came in.

Day 468

They had strapped Mark in a strait jacket for the whole night, even though he was cogent. He cried in my lap until he fell asleep. Why did he attack the man? Had he lost it? There were so many questions in my head but I was too scared to ask. What’s going to happen to us?

They didn’t free him until Grace came in this morning to take blood samples. Grey came in shortly, telling us eight got infected. And they had to be put down. He said it with an accusing tone as he glared at Mark.

“It’s my fault.” Grace buried her face into her hands.

“You were burnt out. None of us wanted this.” Grey put a hand on her shoulders.

“I didn’t slip, I swear.” Mark croaked.

“Everyone saw you attacked the man.” Grey said.

“I… There was something wrong with him. He was shaking… he had this feverish scent and I…” Mark paced around the room and banged against the wall. “I just reacted on instinct.”

Grace stared at Mark for a long time. Silence was hanging heavily in the air.

Neither of us carried the HRN virus, and Grace told us the Chimera was almost dormant by now. Even if the man was bitten by Mark, he shouldn’t have lost his mind so suddenly. Chimera tries to take over our minds, but the HRN virus had to fry our brains first. If we had caused the outbreak, shouldn’t they turn into shadow walkers like us? They don’t look any different from the usual infected except that their skin wasn’t as grey or mottled. None of us had an answer. Nobody had seen an outbreak for a long time.

“So what now?” I finally broke the silence and asked.

“We can’t let you go home.” Grey said.

“Are you going to hang me?” Mark said softly.

“There is a mob outside your home, with pitchforks and torches.” Grey explained. “We need to send you out of the settlement.”

“You are throwing him out?” I asked.

“For now,” Grace said, “until I can figure out what happened. It’s not safe for both of you-”

“Both of us? Why Dan? He didn’t do shit!” Mark yelled.

Grey pushed him back when he stepped too close to Grace. “Calm down, Mark. We have an ally settlement below the snow line. They would welcome you. Your skills would be useful for -”

“Useful. So that’s what we really are.” He muttered.

“Be reasonable! We had a mob on our hands and all they saw was you hitting the man and he turned.” Grey shouted.

Ten months of safety and comfort and we were back to square one. How are we going to stay lucid without the treatment? What are we going to do if they never wanted us back here again? What if the new settlement didn’t want us as well? Are we going to live like animals again? Why can’t Grace just lock us up here? No one would know. She didn’t trust us anymore?

She was welling up by the time I stopped. For a long time, she couldn’t answer any of my questions. Finally before she leaves she said she would work out something, but we have to leave before dawn. The ally settlement wasn’t that bad, she said softly. Would I get to say goodbye to my brother? She shook her head before the door was closed.

Day 469

The first light cast down from the window. Mark and I sat on the floor, leaning against each other. I watched the blue light illuminating the floating dusts in the air.

“They could’ve at least let you take that jar of peanut butter. “ Mark broke the silence.

I laughed softly.

I rubbed my eyes against his sleeves. He caressed my head gently and said, “I wanted to give you a good life. But all you get was-”

“Shhh…” I put a finger on his lips. “All I get was you.”

I wrapped my fingers around his, the crude wooden rings touching each other, and I said, “That’s enough for me.”

I heard footsteps approaching. It was time to leave this place we had come to call it home. Suddenly, I felt all the hairs on my hand standing. A sharp fear stabbing me in the gut for no reason. Was this how Mark felt when he attacked the man? I don’t know why, but I can’t shake off the feeling that it would be the last time I get to see my brother ever again.