“Okay… sure,” I said. I was confused why the discussion had to take place in the middle of the night, but I was still foggy from having just come awake. “I can head out with someone tomorrow to…”
“No, no,” Dwight interrupted. “Deserted as things are, there’s still plenty of danger out there to be found. Hell, we had to put some marauders down just before you two found us, even. I think you’re a lot safer right here.”
“Okay, we can come back to that later,” I said, not wanting to let it go. “We talked about me taking on some of the chores. Where can I help?”
I could hear Dwight smiling as he spoke. “No, look, that’s very gracious of you, but what we were thinking of is that there are things you can do… things you can provide… that the rest of us are incapable of.”
“Provide? I…”
“Comfort, Amanda. Companionship. It’s been a while since we’ve all seen a woman. There are certain… appetites. Drive a man crazy.”
I took a step back. “What the hell is this‽”
“Easy, easy,” Dwight said. He was putting on his best reasonable politician voice. “Look, we’re not unreasonable. Aren’t we providing you and Lizzy with food, safety, and shelter? We don’t like it rough or anything; we all want this to be friendly. We certainly don’t want to all tag team you in a single night…” he shuddered. “Unsanitary…”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. With the exception of James, who was always quiet, they had all seemed so normal up to this point. I did notice the occasional lingering stare on my body every so often, but that wasn’t any different from before when things weren’t completely crazy. As they said, there weren’t a lot of women around. I just put it down to men being men.
I started to back further away, and they all spread out and encircled me, keeping close and putting my back up against the camper.
The window on the door slid open, and I heard Lizzy’s tired, slurred voice up over my shoulder. “Mom? What’s going on out there? Why is everyone awake?”
“Just go back to sleep, okay Lizzy?” Hugo called out. “Your mom and us are just talking. Nothing to be worried about, babe.”
“Lizzy doesn’t have to know about any of this,” Dwight continued. “We’ll keep it from her and only do this at night. I mean, shit, is it really that bad? All you need to do is roll over, let one of us have a turn, and this’ll all be nice and easy.”
Despite how disgusted I was, I actually began to consider what he was saying. What he was describing didn’t actually sound like the worst thing that could happen. Our culture has it all built up like rape is the absolute worst thing that could happen to a woman, but it’s really not. It’s especially not if you’re a mother.
James, who was always so quiet and sullen, spoke up as if to emphasize my thoughts. “This is easy as long as you make it easy. I’m tired of all the talking…”
“Now, uh, James, we all agreed there was a better chance of this working out if we all just…”
“Shut the fuck up, Dwight. I’m tired of hearing you.”
Dwight clamped his mouth shut immediately and took a physical step back, head down. I had always assumed he was in charge, but that one exchange demonstrated how badly I was mistaken.
“Now,” James said, a cross between a purr and a growl, “your kid is up there in that camper. One of us is going in there with her. Dwight wasn’t shitting you; none of us is interested in a fuckin’ kid. When she gets older we’ll talk, but for now, no thanks. So, if you play along, she’ll be fine. Fuck this up; she won’t.”
James turned and looked at the rest of them. “Dwight, since you’re feeling so fucking chummy this evening, you can go babysit. And…” he leveled a finger at each man in turn, “…any… one… of… you cunts comes in her cunt…” he pointed at me as he said this, “I swear to the blessed baby Jesus himself I will personally thumb fuck your eye sockets. Not one more mouth to feed—I mean it. If one of you idiots gets her pregnant, I’ll fucking kill one of you off at random to make up the god damned difference.”
All of them were staring down at the ground by now. I was shaking in disbelief. I can’t tell you what I was thinking at that point. It was as though some part of my brain, the important part that makes me “me,” had switched off.
James walked over to me and put his face close enough to mine that I could smell his breath, which had the scent of Certs on it for whatever fucking reason. It can’t have been to make a good impression.
“I’m first,” he rumbled. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
He turned and walked to the empty motorhome, opened the door, and climbed in giving every indication that he expected to be followed. There was nothing I could do. I went. Completely numb, I went.
Things went as promised for the next few days and fell into a predictable routine. During the daytime, they all behaved as if nothing had changed. Dwight was still chatty (which now took on the added characteristic of feeling completely scummy; I wanted to wash myself whenever he so much as said “hello”), Richard and Hugo kept to themselves as they were the younger of the four and rather stupid, and James was quiet, sullen, and terrifying. Everyone carried themselves lightly around James, reminding me of Jack trying to sneak by the sleeping Giant. I eventually learned why from Dwight.
“You just want to go easy and don’t argue when you’re dealing with James,” he told me in a low voice one afternoon. “There used to be five of us.”
“Why the hell are you sticking with him, then?” I asked, barely able to keep the venom out of my voice. I don’t think I succeeded, actually. Dwight shrank back into himself at the question. Whoever he was from before, it seemed he had enough self-awareness to be ashamed of himself. Not that it stopped him from taking his turn on his nights.
Presently, he perked up and gestured over to Hugo, who was sitting next to Richard (they were both in folding camping chairs; Dwight and I were sitting at a fold-up picnic table that was set up inside the half-ring of the motorhomes, which were themselves parked nose to tail).
“Hey, Hugo. Your night to cook, ain’t it? I’m starving from being out all day with Rich. Fucker has enough energy for three of us, always running every damned place.”
“A brisk walk ain’t the same thing as running, you old bitch,” Rich offered without looking back over his shoulder. He took a drink of warm beer and belched while Dwight chuckled at him.
Hugo groaned softly and hung his head back. “Ah, man. I’m so fucking sick of canned food I almost don’t want to eat at this point. I definitely don’t want to build up a fire right now. Are there any bags of jerky left? Can’t we just have some of that?”
“You can’t have just jerky for dinner, you knob,” Rich said. “It’s, like, all unbalanced and shit.”
“I’d kill for a slice of fresh bread,” Hugo complained.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Dwight spoke up. “Why don’t we just crack out a couple of the MREs Amanda brought with her? That okay with you, Amanda?”
The look of friendly hope on his face when he asked me that was so out of place that he surprised a, “Are you fucking serious‽” out of me. His smile fell instantly, as though he had just learned that some jerk had eaten the last of his favorite ice cream.
“That’s a plan, right there,” Hugo said, levering himself up out of his chair. “I swear to Shiva, if I have to eat one more of those cans of vegetable beef, I’m going to shit out my pancreas.”
“Who the hell is Shiva?” Richard asked.
“It was that one god from Indiana Jones.” Hugo disappeared for a moment into the rear motorhome and came back out a moment later with three bags under his arms.
“These things are something like fifteen thousand calories,” he said. “We probably want to go easy on these, in case we don’t like them, huh?”