Rebirth (2 page)

The flags (so-called because of the ominous flag they carried, declaring themselves an autonomous nation of survivors) had been a cruel interruption into an otherwise solid foundation built on the ashes of the past. We had survived a nuclear holocaust. We had built a life for ourselves, and then the flags showed up. Led by Gareth, a man possessed by the idea of weeding secret Reaper sympathizers from surviving groups like our own and executing them to further his twisted purpose, the flags posed a threat unlike anything we’d imagined. His group consisted of nearly sixty upon his arrival at our door, but after a third party attacked our house from the devastated woods, he was left with little more than twenty. We retook control of our home and our lives by ousting the flags, ordering them away, and relieving them of their weapons and morale, or so we thought.

But they had returned, executing Connor in front of us after they’d caught us unaware. A sympathizer, they called him - Connor, before they shot him in the head. A sympathizer to the Reaper’s ideals, as if anyone would claim such madness after the hell the Grimm Reaper had unleashed on us all.

Left alone to contemplate further what scheme Earl and Sonny were planning, my eyes fell again to Joel’s bedroom door. I pushed my hands against the frame and slowly lowered my head until my forehead gently rested against the door. My cheek made contact with the cool wood. Eyes closed, I listened for movement, a sound, something that would let me in. What horrors was he experiencing in there? “Let me in,” I whispered to the door.

A moment later, Caroline came up the stairs and took my hand. I resisted, hesitant to leave my vigil at the door. Her eyes were red and swollen. The sight of her made me break down. Caroline followed in turn. I pulled her close, and we hugged. And we cried.

*****

Caroline finally released herself from our embrace and rubbed her eyes hard. “What, what do you think he’s doing in there Sara?” she asked.

“I wish I knew. I wish he’d let me in.” My arms crossed defensively as I looked back at the door.

“Is Joel going to be alright, you think?”

“I don’t know, Caroline.” I couldn’t hide my own inability to read him anymore. God, we had grown so far apart in such a short time. It felt like a microsecond. From ‘I love you’ to a break up, separate rooms and a blow out that sent him off to who knows where, in search of who knows what! “I don’t have those answers.”

“Should we get back to the others?”

Reluctantly, I agreed. Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed my fingers through her long, somewhat greasy blonde hair, as though tidying her up for an interview. When I reached the ends I carefully patted them down on her shoulders. “Okay, let’s go see what they’re doing.” Holding hands, we walked down the hall and into the addition, where the rest of the house now gathered.

We walked into a fierce speech, told in unwavering absolutes. Phrases like ‘we must’, and ‘how could we’ and ‘how dare they’. It was an impressive rant, not unlike many of the one-sided conversations he’d mastered in the past. No one could put together an argument like Earl, and in this, he was making his stand.

“This is not how this is going to end!” He pushed on, while a captive audience of our peers stood in silence. “This isn’t an ending. This is a new beginning. Gareth and his flags cannot be allowed to just walk off into the sunset.”

“What are you proposing, Earl?” I blurted out, angry he’d gone and done exactly what I had feared. The room held a distinct sense of immediacy. It permeated the air and made it hard to breathe.

“I propose we fight, Sara!” He glared at me, the devil in his eyes.

“Why would you want to pull us all back into this now, after having lost so much!” I studied the group, panning the room while their eyes betrayed them. A perfect moment to rally the troops perhaps - to offer them a solution. On the other hand, an excellent opportunity for someone to take control, to give the group a reason, purpose. Did Earl know what he was doing? Did he see what he was becoming?

“Whoa, Earl,” Caroline broke in. She was shaken and it resonated in her voice. “What are we talking about here? Running after the flags? Hunting them down? Two wrongs don’t make a right.” She was pleading to the group now. “Right? I don’t want to fight anymore. How could any of you want to fight anymore?”

“What else is there to do?” Sonny phrased it as more of a statement than a question.

“Rebuild,” I said. “Rebuild, regroup. Jesus, anything but get into another fight!”

“What if they come back?” added Kevin. I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t much like Kevin. His allegiance would fall to anyone that took the initiative to lead. He was weak.

“Listen to me, Joel is still here, okay? He’s still our leader, by vote! It’s his call whether we send people to track down the flags, not yours.” I pointed at Earl.

“I’m allowed to have an opinion aren’t I, Sara? It may not be the same country anymore, but as far as we’re concerned, it’s still free.” He glared at me.

I readdressed the group. “All I’m saying is not to get caught up in Earl’s hype. We don’t need to throw away our lives. Connor wouldn’t want to be avenged.”

“Says you!” Earl may have respected Joel’s leadership, but he would not concede the point. “Connor was a good man and a good soldier. And he went to the grave for all of us! All he needed to do was say the word and we’d have all died that day in defiance. But he knew that, and he died for us!” He sat down on a stool by the west windows, exhausted. “And it’s eating me up inside…” His words were not falling on deaf ears. Freddy, Sonny and Kevin approached Earl and stood next to him.

Seth and Sidney did not move, positioned at the east wall, guns dangling from their uncertain grips. I approached Seth and knelt beside him. We exchanged looks. He was no more ready to go to war with the flags than I was. I recognized indecision in Sidney’s face. Admittedly, a small part of me cherished the idea of going to war with the flags. I was still reeling from the events that lead to Connor’s death.

I turned to watch as Kevin stood and stared out the west windows. The forest still resembled something from a children’s Halloween picture book. Stripped bare of their leaves, the trees stood as dark silhouettes against a grey-black background. It had been raining on and off since Joel had returned from the woods, after having left us at Connor’s graveside.

It was approaching 8:30 pm when I heard a door shut. Joel was moving. I rushed out of Skylab and across the hall. His bedroom door was open and the bathroom door now closed. I pressed my ear up against the door and listened. In my peripheral vision I could see the group gathered by the addition entrance.

There was a murmuring inside the bathroom, followed by a hard thump. Something broke. I jumped back. Looking for encouragement from the others, I slowly approached the bathroom door again. They were frozen in place, unable or perhaps unwilling to move.

I pressed my ear to the door and heard Joel inside rustling around. I knocked lightly and tried to speak but nothing made it past the lump in my throat. He was ignoring me. How long would this continue? How long could I let it continue? Seth was behind me, gently pulling me away from the door. I held up a restraining hand.

“I’ll be all right,” I smiled, although I felt like I was in a dream at that moment. My head swam with emotions and memories, making me dizzy. “I need to be alone right now.” Seth nodded and released his delicate grip. I walked into Joel’s bedroom and sat on the bed. A low rumble of thunder rolled through the clouds overhead.

I wanted to pray, but felt there was no longer anyone listening. My faith had been shaken by the return of the flags, and the devastation they left in their wake. I couldn’t bring myself to pray at Connor’s funeral. Should I have felt I’d let him down by foregoing a prayer? Will his soul not rest now? Crossing my heart I bowed my head in prayer. “Amen,” I muttered aloud after completing my appeal.

As I panned the room, I felt alienated and lonely. The foreign feeling I got from this place, where I first told Joel I loved him, where we shared so much of ourselves, hurt me deeply.

I stood and walked towards his desk, where three pages of stationary rested. The top page had been filled top to bottom with Joel’s handwriting. He’d never had a very attractive script. But this scrawl was especially hectic. This writing was done in haste, by a hand that wanted to write as much as possible as fast as possible and move on.

I sat down to read.

Chapter Two

Blank Page, Blank Mind, Blank Brain, Blank man.
Blink and Blank man disappears, blink and Blank man disappears.
Blink, and nobody cares. Blink blinky, blink blinky, blink Bitch!
If I could, I’d blink, if only I could blink. I’d be Blinky, blinking.
Blank man would disappear.

I frowned as I struggled to understand. Was he Blank man? No, he wished he were Blank man. Or was it Blinky he wished he was? Was Blank man the angel? He wanted Blank man to disappear. He wanted to erase something, a memory, an action… a person.

I read on.

“I know now that a single action can put in motion a series of repercussions. Should that action be positive, the repercussions are rewarding, but when that action is negative, so too are the events to follow. A single action can change you forever. Sometimes, if the deed is large enough, if the intent evil enough, the results can be disastrous.”

This verse was well thought out and easily understood, but I was still confused. What action was he referring to? Was this written to express his view on what the Reaper had unleashed on humanity, or was this something more personal?

“What did you do, Joel?” I whispered, my hands covering my mouth as tears flowed down my cheeks. I looked back at the poem. Was Blank man Connor? Could he really have thought Connor and I had been…? Of course he could. He was capable of believing anything. He had confronted Connor on the subject before hitting him. The memory of that moment would never leave me. “Please, no. Please tell me you didn’t, Joel.” But the more I thought it through, the more likely it was that he had somehow orchestrated the execution of his best friend, and if he did, how could I ever love him again?

I read and reread the poem. I broke it down line by line on the stationary while writing my insights down on another sheet of paper.

Blank Page, Blank Mind, Blank Brain, Blank man. What was he trying to say here? He saw a blank page, nothing yet written, he had a blank mind again repeated in blank brain, suggesting he himself either couldn’t remember something or didn’t want to remember. Finally he mentioned Blank man. This character could be one of three people I decided. The angel, Connor, or himself. I read on.

Blink and Blank man disappears, blink and Blank man disappears. With an action he was able to block out the Blank man, making him disappear. Should this have been taken literally? If so, perhaps the Blank man was Connor. But it also might better describe Joel separating himself from something.

Blink, and nobody cares. Blink blinky, blink blinky, blink Bitch! No one cares… He felt no one would care if Blank man went away, no one would notice, or that the Blank man is worthless. He became repetitive now. He was hell-bent on snuffing out the Blank man. He became frustrated. He couldn’t do it. His inner turmoil was surfacing.

If I could, I’d blink, if only I could blink. I’d be Blinky, blinking. He knew he needed to do this thing, to erase the Blank man, but felt powerless to do so. He would go to extremes to make Blank man disappear.

Blank man would disappear. He needed Blank man to disappear.

I summarized everything I’d been writing down. The conclusion was more revealing, and upsetting than I could have imagined.

Blank man was Joel. He was deeply disturbed. He felt worthless. He’d done something that he couldn’t forgive himself for. He needed to stop the Blank man. He needed to stop himself. The question was, could he? Could he change? No, nothing in this spoke of change. He wanted to disappear…

The writing started with Blank page, he wanted to start again.

I suddenly noticed how silent it was. Had water been running in the bathroom? I looked automatically at my watch. 10:30pm. I’d been toiling over the poem for nearly two hours. I placed my hands at my lower back and stretched, tilting my head back, rolling my neck.

“What is he doing in there?” I wondered aloud.

A muffled cry rang through the bathroom wall as Joel thrashed in the tub. Alarmed, I jumped up from the desk and ran into the hall. I pressed my ear against the bathroom door but all was again silent. “Joel,” I said tentatively. “Joel?” I knocked again. Nothing.

Sidney rounded the corner out of the addition. I waved him over.

“Something’s wrong, Sid. He’s not answering. Something’s wrong.”

“Joel?” he yelled. I looked at him with my best pained expression.

“Please Sid, kick it in.” I pleaded. Sidney nodded and kicked the bathroom door in.

Chapter Three

Nothing could have prepared us for the scene inside. I pushed past Sidney and stopped cold when I spotted the bright red water in the tub. I lived a thousand different scenarios in that moment. As the seconds passed the picture became more and more surreal.