The n-Body Problem

I walk with the boy around the block a couple times. We were present when Chris started atomizing. If he made a virus, if that’s even possible, then there’s no telling what it can do when it’s out on its own. Probably nothing. But I just had a stroke so not gonna take any chances.

The rain is lighter today. Some fog. Air feels cool on the skin. This makes the kid and I feel pretty good walking the sidewalks. He doesn’t know why we’re doing this. He just wants this to not ever stop. I look to my side. Light blond hair. Still clean from the hose. I find myself thinking he must be a pretty good kid, but really, I have no way of knowing. So far, he’s just other. We round the block for the fifth time and no symptoms. I touch his forehead. Cool. No cough. No seeping blood.

There’s a car in Paula and Petra’s driveway. The boy and I peer in as we pass. The front door crashes open. Two teenage boys leap from the porch. We startle them and they fall onto the lawn laughing and rolling. My hand goes over the boy’s face. We don’t move until the teens pick themselves up. One punches the other in the nuts, sending him back down.

The kid and I advance to the steps. Trick or treat.

The teenagers have killed Paula and Petra. I find Paula in the bathtub, underwater. They probably stood on her. A scum of body fluids ring the tub. An eyeball bobs in the rusty water. They used her as a trampoline for a good long while. Can’t find Petra at first. The kid follows me from room to room. No emotion or sounds from him. Petra has been hanged. A rope tied to the rail on the landing leads to her. They tied her then tossed her over. No big signs of struggle. They appear to have not fought too hard against these events. Petra has started to move. I’ll leave her there for now. Once on the ground they start travelling. Their skin pulling them towards walls and doors and stairs. Paula’s gonna start soon. I just shut the bathroom door. See what happens. The boy sits at the kitchen table. He’s right. This is all ours now. Food.

There’s apples and tomato juice in the fridge. Some roots. Ginger? I snap off some celery and pour the juice. We crunch it in silence. Salt and pepper. The sides of my tongue reach over and touch each other. My lips warm. Anorexia my ass. The kid eats, too.

I’m trying to figure it. They could have killed the ladies for no reason. It isn’t shocking. It’s something that happens all the time. Could be a race thing, too. That definitely happens all the time. Or—and this is a possibility that’s been buzzing like a wasp since we entered the house—this was a message. For me. He knows I’m in town. And he knows where in town.

Dixon and I came up through Garrison Securities together. We supplied security for covert mining operations in countries at war. Sometimes the mining companies would start the wars, carefully creating no-go zones, then mining them. And we provided safety for them in the most brutal terms. And this was before the dead got in the way. We had some horrible times, me and Dixon. We were the worst you could ever know. When it was over, we headed home and looked for work. I got into this, what I do now. Bounty hunting, really. Kill one guy to save a lot of people. Move on. I have killed forty-two Sellers. Never capture.

Dixon’s a Seller. And a sadist. I’ve come into the towns he’s done. Seen things I’ll never shake. His preferred method is to collect everyone in some central part of town, then have them all hold stripped cable. Like blind people on a field trip. Then he declares to God the rightness and glory of it all and he throws the switch. It takes a while to fully kill everyone, but Dixon’s smart, he doesn’t use an alternating current. No one who’s latched on can let go.

Then he starts to play. He drags bodies around the town, posing them, living with them for a week or two. Even fucking some of them. He deliberately works with words like obscenity and abomination in mind. That’s the fate of this town. I can feel it. That’s what she meant when she said she’d never find Chris if he died. If they died too far apart, they’d get hung out there in different neighbourhoods. This town is preparing to go as one.

X and I sit on the couch with a fresh plate of celery and a jug of ice water. Celery’s good for blood pressure, but really not that safe to affirm old body facts. I have a lump inside my mouth below the bottom lip. It’s a hard one. Fast-growing. Doesn’t taste like cancer. I’m sure there’s scissors in the house just in case. We can hear a continuous cricket of squeaks from the bathtub upstairs. Petra. Paula dances on the rope silently. I should check what the pick-up protocols are in this town. X and I are gonna watch some news. Haven’t done that in a very long time.

the news.