Mercy's Contagion

My true life began with my parents rotting upstairs in their bed while I raided every house on our cul de sac, starving. I don’t remember much before that. I was only nine and it’s been twenty-five years. I do recall searching up and down the block and several blocks over before I could finally bring myself to leave for good. Perhaps I’d lingered at home with my parents’ dead bodies because I was happy there once. But even before the Aiyana virus ravished the world and purged most living creatures I don’t think I was ever as happy as she always was, despite our dire circumstances.

Her name was Mercy but since she joined our cluster she’s never spared us her constant cheerfulness. She joined the group as we scoured the earth on foot, searching in vain for any remaining animals to eat. I’ve earned new respect for farmers because we don’t have any. None of us can get the earth to yield food but that doesn’t seem to bother Mercy. She calls our long hikes in the pouring rain refreshing. Even though the rain seems to wake the foul odor of dead bodies.

If we walk for miles in the blistering sun, she hums as if the heat does not remind her that with no plumbing water is too precious a commodity to bath regularly. In the fall she hops around, delighted by the crunch of leaves beneath her boots and marveling at the many colors of the trees. As if she’s not plagued by hunger and exhaustion like the rest of us. Even in the freezing snow, she’s insufferable. She twirls around in the snow flurries, snatching icicles from trees for swordplay with the children and challenging people to snowball fights. The rest of us fought over toilet paper to maintain some semblance of civilization.

To me, she’s a minor nuisance, tolerable if annoying, but as I witnessed the angry glow of so many eyes piercing her through the darkness I knew I’d have to make a decision soon due to her tactlessness. Right now, for instance, it should be a solemn occasion but she found it appropriate to dance around the wooden statue we made to burn in the doctor’s likeness. It was quiet except for the hissing of the fire as it threw sparks into the inky night sky. She was completely oblivious to the hateful glares that followed her. So I was forced to sit in rapt attention, my eyes peeled in case anyone lunged for her.

She was just as thin as the rest of us but whereas we looked every bit emaciated she somehow managed to retain a certain glow to her supple onyx skin. There was a spark in her eyes that matched the glint of her tiny, golden, heart-shaped locket as it bounced against her chest to the rhythm of her steps. People thought she must be hiding food to stay looking so well but no matter when we surprised her she’d merrily submit to a search. She was never found with more than her allotted rations and that made the others hate her even more.

Finally, she got some sense about herself and stopped dancing, sat down only to begin humming. A chorus of angry groans rose from the group. It was time to distract everyone. Our new favorite pastime is fantasizing about all the ways we’d like to torment the cursed doctor. The monster who plunged us into this new dark age. As the story went, the doctor had been trying to cure his only daughter’s terminal illness when he somehow created the virus. Now each year we burn an effigy of him and watch it collapse in blazing glory. It’s a crude new ritual we’ve adopted, but I’m not ashamed to enjoy it, with so little else to enjoy these days.

“You know what I like to think about sometimes,” I shouted, waiting for every eye to fall upon me. “I know we always talk about what we’d do to the doctor if we could but he’s probably dead. They say he died shortly after releasing the virus, caught it himself and good for him, but his daughter may live on. The virus saved her life. “

To my horror, Mercy was the first person to respond, completely unaware that I’d been trying to take attention off of her. “I wouldn’t mind laying hands-on Aiyana. That was her name, right? Why it’s called the Aiyana virus?” She inquired of the stone-faced crowd. No one answered.

“Of course it is,” she plowed on with a sheepish giggle, finally grasping the nature of the hot stares directed her way. “Anyway, yeah I wouldn’t mind fighting her, or anyone else really, never been in a fight.” Still, only silence answered her but she was relentless. “I wouldn’t mind a bit of practice right now if anyone wanted to take a swing at me.” With that she actually stood up, crouched into a fighting stance, and bawled up her fists.

That got a reaction and several people hopped up. Forcing me to rush to her side and shield her body with mine. With a stare, I told everyone to remain seated and they obliged. I turned to her, grabbing her shoulders, our eyes met but of course, she didn’t take the hint. Turning from me she faced the crowd, “In some cultures, it’s actually considered disrespectful not to eat a dead loved one.” A fresh round of groans exploded, a few people stood up in anger but she just, kept, talking.

“We had to eat her guys. Besides she was old and died peacefully. I mean, if something happened to me you’d all have my blessings to eat me without guilt,” Mercy finished with a smile.

“IS THAT SOME SORT OF SICK JOKE?!” Someone screamed out.

“OH SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO YOU ALL RIGHT,” said another, and those standing began to close in around Mercy and I.

“EVERYONE TO BED,” I ordered. “NOW,” I said more forcefully when people dawdled.

I didn’t sleep a wink as I guarded Mercy’s tent. I woke her just as the sun began climbing over the horizon and steered her towards a small convertible. It took a few tries to start. We hadn’t used any of the cars in a while, gas was scarce. Considering what happened last night you’d think Mercy would want to at least appear somewhat regretful, but she was giddy as ever hopping into the car. She actually stuck her head out of the window, squealing in joy. “THIS IS AMAZING!”

“You act like you’ve never been in a car before,” I said for small-talk when she brought her head back in. I didn’t want to begrudge her the last bit of conversation she might get for a while with her pending solitude. For her own safety, I decided she’d leave the pack but I’d yet to tell her.

“I haven’t,” she replied facing the open window, eyes closed.

“Really,” I said, genuinely shocked. I examined her deep brown face. She’d be pretty if I were looking at her in such away. I wasn’t. Whenever I got the urge to look upon a woman with desire I thought only of the scared kid I’d been when the virus hit. The new world was no place for children. So I made a personal vow to never even look upon a woman with that intention, but If I did. Yes, she was pretty and looked young, even while malnourished. Still not young enough to have never ridden in a car before the virus hit.

“Not even as a passenger? How old are you?”

“I’m thirty,” she replied with a tinge of embarrassment in her voice. “I was really sick as a kid even before the virus. Once it spread, my mom died a few years later, so I never learned to drive. Y’all are the first group I’ve met since then. This must be what it feels like to ride a rollercoaster!” Her smile had not waned

I was starting to feel guilty about my plans to banish her but it was still for the best. In consolation, I let the top down and sped up. She went wild, springing from her seat and opening her arms wide in sheer jubilation. Before long her goodwill infected me and I was happily telling her what a rollercoaster was really like with all the dips, twists, and turns. I’d forgotten those memories.

“STOP!” she suddenly screamed and I slammed on the breaks, heart banging against my ribcage. She actually leaped from the car before I stopped and was racing toward a cluster of trees near a small lake. When I caught up to her she was already seated in a tire swing and taking a great big bite from something, it’s juices spilled down her palm. Her eyes rolled back and she purred in enjoyment as she chewed.

“It’s a little fuzzy, maybe mold. I don’t care. It’s delicious,” she tossed me a plump peach.

“There’s no mold,” I told her in amazement as I examined the fruit and took a huge bite. “It’s perfect,” I said closing my eyes, the sweet nectar gushing down my throat. I finished it in seconds as I looked around. Every tree in the grove was covered in peaches. I could hear chirping in the trees and even saw a squirrel skitter across the branches.

“LOOK!” Mercy yelled slapping her hand against my shoulder, hopping up and down. Only this time I joined her dance. There were ducks in the lake. It was Eden.

We’re saved” I shouted while we bounced together, my pale arms interlinked with her brown ones. We jumped in a circle.

“MEAT! I’ve always wanted to eat fresh meat. I’ll finally get to,” Mercy said hugging me.

“The others will be so happy that they’ll forget about last night! MEAT! It’s been so long for us all.”

“Never for me. I can’t wait.”

“Wait, you’ve never had meat, was your family vegetarian,” I said offhandedly, biting into another peach.

“Well no…” she lifted her shirt slightly, showing me a small hole in her stomach. “I mostly used a feeding tube as a kid and by the time I could stand to eat the virus had come. Last night was the first time I ever felt so full.” Her eyes grew wide at her own admission. “Not that I enjoyed it. I didn’t want to eat another person,” her eyes begged me to understand.

“I know,” I assured her.

She gave me an awkward smile then stepped back, whipping off her shirt and accidentally tearing off her locket. Tossing her shirt up, she raced toward the lake. I laughed for the first time in forever, absently sitting on the tire swing. I heard a splash, to avoid the temptation of looking at her wet body I swung around. The sun hit her locket and caught my eye. I picked it up to keep safe for her and to distract myself I read the dainty inscription, “Aiyana, for no matter how deep beneath the darkness we may sink the light shall always find us, Love doctor dad.”

When I looked up she stood over me dripping wet, eyes cast down in shame. “You can hit me if you need to. I can take it,” Mercy, or truly Aiyana, said and for the first time, there was sadness in her voice.

I whipped out my pocket knife and her eyes grew wider for a moment. Until I bent down and began digging in the soil. When the hole was sufficiently deep I dropped the locket in and we smiled. Then with Aiyana’s brown hand intertwined with my pale one, we walked together into the lake. I’d forgotten how good it felt to splash and play but today I realized that you can still take pleasure in the small things, even during hell on earth.