walked closer to Terry’s house. As they drew nearer,
one of them stopped. Baz’s heart raced in his chest. Was this it? Would Terry’s
stupidity finally tear his family apart?
The guard bent down to his boots and
tied his shoelaces. He straightened up, and the unit moved on, beyond Terry’s
house and down the street. Baz watched as they stopped at the door of a
different house further down. They paused for a few seconds, and then one of
them stepped back. He lifted a boot and kicked the door open.
Baz stood on the empty street and
listened to the shouts of surprise as the Capita guards carried out their raid.
He knew that he shouldn’t concern himself with things like this. As Baz, he was
nobody, but as Tammuz, his responsibility was greater. The Capita would expand,
and Tammuz would drive them through it.
He turned up his collar and walked
along the darkened street, thoughts of Kiele turning in his mind.
Chapter Nine
Eric
It was funny how everyone’s faces melded
together when they were part of a crowd. The rest of the new arrivals all stood
in the middle of the yard, bunched tight as if stepping out alone would isolate
them and draw the attention of the guards. The shoes they had given him made
Eric’s feet hurt, and when he walked through the yard and he felt the stones
dig into his soles.
The longer-term inmates around them
carried out their jobs without paying attention, wary of stopping in case it
brought a baton down on their heads. Kim was next to Eric, and Allie stood
beside her. Across from them, five guards fixed them with hateful stares. One
of them wore thin-looking pale gloves, and Eric wondered if he was the guard
who preferred his accessories to be made of human skin.
Two men walked toward them from
across camp. Behind them were red bricked buildings that Eric knew were off
limits to the DCs. He didn’t know what went on in them, but he knew that it was
where Dr. Scarsgill worked. On the outskirts of the yard, there was a white
running track that someone had painted onto the stone. Eric wondered if the
camp had once been a training camp for athletes.
The guards gave way as the two figures
approached. One of them, wearing a long waterproof coat, was Dr. Scarsgill. He
had a tired look on his face. The other was an old man. His head only reached
to Dr. Scarsgill shoulders. He had long grey hair that looked like a woman’s,
and in his right hand he held a walking stick which he leaned on to support his
weight.
“You all know now what we expect of
you,” said Dr. Scarsgill, stopping in front of the DCs. “The presence of guards
is testament to the fact that you can’t be trusted. Day by day if you carry out
your duties, you build a little of that trust. That means the men next to me
won’t have cause to harm you.”
“Yeah, right,” Eric heard a man
whisper behind him.
Scarsgill put his hands in his
pockets.
“When you work in camp as long as I
have, people cease being people and they become a number. That means I don’t
care for you. I won’t mistreat you. After all, you can’t mistreat a number. But
if the sums don’t add up, I must start to subtract until they fit.”
He pointed to his right, across camp,
where the infected shambled beyond the fences.
“Look at some of the old numbers that
didn’t fit my formula.”
Eric picked up on a tremor in the
doctor’s voice. It was faint, but he was sure it had been there. He looked at
the infected, and he knew that the doctor was lying. Whatever else might happen
to them, Eric knew he and the rest of the DCs would never turn into one of the
creatures.
The old man next to him smiled. “What
the doctor is saying, in his usual obscure way, is that if you don’t behave
then like anywhere else, you will be punished. But nobody wants that.”
Scarsgill nodded. “Thank you, Goral.
I won’t pretend that I will always be up front with you all. It
one of them stopped. Baz’s heart raced in his chest. Was this it? Would Terry’s
stupidity finally tear his family apart?
The guard bent down to his boots and
tied his shoelaces. He straightened up, and the unit moved on, beyond Terry’s
house and down the street. Baz watched as they stopped at the door of a
different house further down. They paused for a few seconds, and then one of
them stepped back. He lifted a boot and kicked the door open.
Baz stood on the empty street and
listened to the shouts of surprise as the Capita guards carried out their raid.
He knew that he shouldn’t concern himself with things like this. As Baz, he was
nobody, but as Tammuz, his responsibility was greater. The Capita would expand,
and Tammuz would drive them through it.
He turned up his collar and walked
along the darkened street, thoughts of Kiele turning in his mind.
Chapter Nine
Eric
It was funny how everyone’s faces melded
together when they were part of a crowd. The rest of the new arrivals all stood
in the middle of the yard, bunched tight as if stepping out alone would isolate
them and draw the attention of the guards. The shoes they had given him made
Eric’s feet hurt, and when he walked through the yard and he felt the stones
dig into his soles.
The longer-term inmates around them
carried out their jobs without paying attention, wary of stopping in case it
brought a baton down on their heads. Kim was next to Eric, and Allie stood
beside her. Across from them, five guards fixed them with hateful stares. One
of them wore thin-looking pale gloves, and Eric wondered if he was the guard
who preferred his accessories to be made of human skin.
Two men walked toward them from
across camp. Behind them were red bricked buildings that Eric knew were off
limits to the DCs. He didn’t know what went on in them, but he knew that it was
where Dr. Scarsgill worked. On the outskirts of the yard, there was a white
running track that someone had painted onto the stone. Eric wondered if the
camp had once been a training camp for athletes.
The guards gave way as the two figures
approached. One of them, wearing a long waterproof coat, was Dr. Scarsgill. He
had a tired look on his face. The other was an old man. His head only reached
to Dr. Scarsgill shoulders. He had long grey hair that looked like a woman’s,
and in his right hand he held a walking stick which he leaned on to support his
weight.
“You all know now what we expect of
you,” said Dr. Scarsgill, stopping in front of the DCs. “The presence of guards
is testament to the fact that you can’t be trusted. Day by day if you carry out
your duties, you build a little of that trust. That means the men next to me
won’t have cause to harm you.”
“Yeah, right,” Eric heard a man
whisper behind him.
Scarsgill put his hands in his
pockets.
“When you work in camp as long as I
have, people cease being people and they become a number. That means I don’t
care for you. I won’t mistreat you. After all, you can’t mistreat a number. But
if the sums don’t add up, I must start to subtract until they fit.”
He pointed to his right, across camp,
where the infected shambled beyond the fences.
“Look at some of the old numbers that
didn’t fit my formula.”
Eric picked up on a tremor in the
doctor’s voice. It was faint, but he was sure it had been there. He looked at
the infected, and he knew that the doctor was lying. Whatever else might happen
to them, Eric knew he and the rest of the DCs would never turn into one of the
creatures.
The old man next to him smiled. “What
the doctor is saying, in his usual obscure way, is that if you don’t behave
then like anywhere else, you will be punished. But nobody wants that.”
Scarsgill nodded. “Thank you, Goral.
I won’t pretend that I will always be up front with you all. It
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