Chapter Six

In the morning, I wake up to find my shoulders and my back mottled with dark, ugly bruises. Some are the size of the palm of my hand, and others are much larger, but they all spread across my skin like splotches of marker. My entire body aches, and I don’t feel like moving, but I know I have to get out of bed if I want to find out what Aaron is going to do with the soldiers.

I take a quick second to relax, before pushing myself up and off the cot. My muscles scream in protest, and I grit my teeth against the burning pain the slightest movement causes. I can’t remember ever feeling this sore before, and it’s only going to get worse throughout the day. And today I won’t have any aspirin to dull the pain, not that the aspirin did a whole lot last night, but it was still better than nothing.

Once I get to the door, I lean on the frame to catch my breath and rest my already sore muscles. Felicia sees my struggle, and she gives me a shoulder to lean against. “Are you gonna be okay, Madison?” she asks, looking up at me with concern. “I think you should lie back down and take it easy today.”

“I can’t,” I say, clenching my teeth as my muscles begin to burn. “I have to find Aaron. I have to know what he’s going to do about the soldiers, especially Wilkinson. I want to be there for whatever punishment he receives.”

“But—”

“Felicia, either help me down to Aaron’s office, or just let me go and I’ll do it by myself.”

“Madison, Aaron’s already decided on a fitting punishment. I don’t know what it is yet—nobody does—but Aaron is going to gather everyone in the school’s entrance right after breakfast. Attendance is mandatory.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling a sense of dread in my gut. “Do you have any ideas what this punishment might be?”

She shakes her head while helping me down the flight of stairs leading from the English department to the cafeteria. “Nope. By now everyone knows about the bartering and about your beating, and some of the survivors are calling for Aaron to banish Wilkinson with nothing but the clothes on his back. They want him gone, Madison. And I don’t blame them.”

“Do you think that’s what Aaron will do?”

“No. I think that’ll just create more hate.”

“You’re probably right. If he sends Wilkinson out to his death, he risks losing the support of the other soldiers. Even though their comrade is guilty of hurting me and should be punished, he’s worried they won’t stand for it. He’ll have to try and keep as many people as satisfied as possible, but the soldiers will always be more important. Without them, this place would fall in a week tops.”

Felicia helps me into the cafeteria, and I notice a lot of eyes on me as I slide into my seat at our normal table. Felicia dashes off to get me a tray of food, waving off my offer to do it myself. Daisy takes a seat across from me, and I can tell she’s torn between yelling at me for going to Aaron and asking me if I’m okay. She settles for the latter.

“Madison, how are you feeling?”

I shrug and try not to wince at the pain. “I’ll be alright in a few days. I just have to take it easy for awhile.”

“Why did you go to Aaron?” she asks softly, as if she’s trying to keep from screaming or throwing a tantrum. “Why didn’t you let me talk to her first?”

I sigh. “Daisy, I’m really sorry, but Aaron had to know what was going on. He’s our leader, and you have no right to be so angry at me for talking to him. It had to be done. What Rose and the other girls like her are doing is wrong, and it isn’t fair to the rest of the survivors.” Looking around, I notice that Rose isn’t in line to get food, and I frown. “Where is Rose?”

“Upstairs hiding in our room. She’s refusing to come out until this whole thing is settled. She thinks some of the other survivors are going to make her pay for taking more than her share of the food. She’s gonna miss breakfast because she’s too scared of what everyone thinks.”

“She’s probably upstairs snacking on her extra supplies, like that granola bar she had in her pocket last night.” Daisy grimaces, and I smile. “I bet you wish you had a granola bar right now. Hey, I have a question. Did Rose share any of this extra food with you? I mean, I would think twins would look out for one another, especially at the end of the world.”

Daisy silently picks at the food on her tray, and that’s all the confirmation I need.

“She didn’t share that food with you did she? Well, I guess you’ll just have to use your body like Rose did. All you’d have to do for a granola bar is get down on your knees and–”

“Sausage!” Felicia says, sliding a tray over to me as she sits down. “I haven’t had sausage in forever. It’s that frozen pre-cooked stuff, but it looks great. And it’s mixed in with the scrambled eggs. We even get toast today, too. The soldier behind the bar said a few of the older women here used a bag of that flour from the storeroom to make homemade bread from scratch.”

The food looks great, and I’m glad for Felicia’s timely interruption. It saves me from making an ass out of myself to one of my only friends. So while Felicia rambles on about how amazing bread is after going so long without it, I dig into the food, hoping a full stomach might help take my mind off of the pain in my shoulders and my back. Even though the eggs have little flavor and the sausage is a bit on the burnt side, the toast definitely makes up for it, even without butter.

I’m the first to finish eating, and I take my tray up to the counter and hand it off to be washed. The woman who takes my tray away to be washed gives me a look of pity, and I try not to feel uncomfortable about it. “I hope that monster gets what’s coming to him,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. One of the ladies nearby nods her head in agreement, and I duck away from the counter before they can all start agreeing with one another.

When I turn around, a dark-haired boy looks up at me. “Specialist Monroe is gathering everybody in the main entrance, and he asked me to come find you,” Levi says. I notice that Lucy is standing just behind him, close enough that he can reach out and protect her if necessary. “He said you might need help gettin’ there.”

“Nah, I’ll be alright. Thanks for telling me, Levi.”

He and Lucy wander off, and I notice a steady stream of people exiting the cafeteria. I come up behind Felicia and Daisy, and together the three of us make our way to the main entrance. The floor is covered in brown tiles, empty vending machines sit against the far wall, and a row of benches line the walls, giving people a place to sit while Aaron makes whatever announcement he has planned.

The main entrance to the school is made entirely of bullet-proof glass doors. There are three high doors side by side, with long metal bars anchored to the fronts. A shirtless Wilkinson is bent over in front of the door, and as the three of us move closer, I notice that he’s hunched over because he’s handcuffed to the metal bar. Aaron is standing beside him with an unmistakable object in his hands: a whip.

I don’t know where he got it, but I can guess what he’s planning to do with it. The thought of Aaron savagely whipping Wilkinson has my stomach clenching painfully and I feel like I’m going to be sick, mostly because I’m worried about the effect this will have on Aaron. I can tell by looking at some of the other people gathered around the entrance room that this idea of Aaron’s is not a popular one. Some of the other survivors look very unhappy, but I notice there are quite a few who look pleased with the form of punishment Aaron has chosen.

And I’m one of the pleased. Even though I’m worried this drastic action will possibly cost Aaron his title as leader of the school, the thought of Wilkinson getting what he deserves has me filled with a hint of glee that should scare me.

But it doesn’t.

Wilkinson deserves to be punished, and there aren’t any cops or working prisons to do it, so we have to be creative and improvise. We can’t just lock him in a room for a little timeout. We have to come up with a fitting punishment that will not only make him pay, but will hopefully teach everyone here that there are rules in place for a reason, and that nobody is above those rules. Aaron needs to show the soldiers that he’s the one calling the shots, and though this isn’t the perfect way to accomplish those things, this is probably the best course of action for Aaron to take.

Felicia, Daisy, and I shove our way through the gathering of people until we’re right beside Aaron. He briefly looks over at me, and I swear I’ve never seen him look worse. There are dark purple circles under his baggy eyes, he clearly hasn’t shaved in some time, and it looks like he hasn’t changed his clothes or even washed. But it’s his eyes that worry me the most—they look so dull and sad. Clearly this decision is not sitting well with him, and I wonder if he’s contemplating giving up his position as leader of this poor excuse of a safe haven.

“Aaron—”

He holds up a hand to silence whatever apology I can think of. “This isn’t your fault, Maddy,” he says softly. “I should have kept a tighter rein on my soldiers. If I had, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I’m so sorry.” His apology is meant only for my ears, and that somehow makes it all the more heartfelt than if he’d declared it in front of all the other survivors.

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper. My hand gently touches his back, and I hope he knows that I’ll be behind him no matter what happens after this.

His head nods slightly, and he turns and addresses the people in the main entrance. “I’m sure some of you happen to be wondering why you’re here. Well, for those of you who don’t know, last night, I was informed about a bartering system going on between some of the soldiers and some of the female survivors. Extra food was being exchanged for sexual favors. One of the soldiers guilty of abusing his power and authority is standing behind me now.

“Wilkinson tracked down the person who informed me of this disgusting practice, and he cornered her in the storeroom while she was cataloging our remaining supplies. Madison Grant, the woman who has helped train you and keep you fed by going on a supply run is the woman he assaulted. As a result of her savage beating, her back, shoulders, and legs are covered in bruises, and it hurts her to even move. I interrupted the attack before it could escalate, so there is no doubt in my mind as to what happened.”

“What’s to be done about Wilkinson?” a voice asks from near the back of the room. I can’t see who the asker is, but it looks like it came from one of the soldiers. They’re all grouped together near back of the room, and they’re watching Aaron with steely expressions on their hardened faces. “You’re just going to beat him in return?”

A few of the survivors begin to mutter to one another, and I wonder just how many people are against Aaron’s plan.

“A few people called for me to simply throw Wilkinson to the zombies, but I can’t do that. I won’t have anymore death on my conscience than I already do. But I can’t simply let him return to duty without taking some form of punishment.”

“What you’re doing is taking an eye for an eye!”

Aaron’s eyes narrow at the speaker. “Wilkinson injured one of your fellow survivors! If he isn’t punished, what’s to keep him from doing it again? Do you want your daughter to be the next ones to suffer from his wrath and fury?”

The man who objected shuts up and pulls his daughter closer to his side.

“That’s what I thought,” Aaron says coldly, looking at the rest of the room again. “This is where things get difficult. What kind of punishment is fitting for the crime he committed? I can’t throw him out and leave him to die. I can’t charge him with aggravated assault and imprison him. I can’t put him on probation. So, this is what I’ve settled on,” he says, bringing the whip out from behind his back.

There’s a collective gasp from the room as people take in the long, black leather torture device in Aaron’s hands.

“This isn’t ideal, and I’m by no means happy to be doing this, but something has to be done. Now, I want all of you to hear me when I say this: the bartering system is over! There will be no more trading sex for food. If I hear of anyone else participating in this, you will be punished!”

Aaron turns around and shifts his grip on the whip. He raises his hand and flicks his wrist, and the thin end of the whip drags across Wilkinson’s back, slicing open the smooth, bare skin. Blood immediately wells up and begins to flow down his back in a thin stream. For a minute, Aaron just stands there, still holding the whip, almost as if he can’t believe what he’s just done. While Aaron comes to terms with his role as punisher, the survivors all look on with some form of horror.

Aaron raises his hand, and Wilkinson is lashed a second time, and a third time, and a fourth time, and a fifth time. By the fifth lash, some of the survivors are sneaking out of the main entrance, while others remain fixed on Wilkinson’s back as the blood smears across it, turning his back into nothing more than a shredded piece of flesh that slowly oozes red. Wilkinson trembles, and his legs buckle out from under him. He slumps to the ground, and he doesn’t move again.

“I think he’s unconscious,” Felicia says quietly. Her honey-colored eyes are wide and fearful, and I wonder if she’ll be scared of Aaron after today.

“Dr. Harlan, I want you to get him cleaned up as best as you can.” Aaron’s eyes have a far-off, unfocused appearance to them, and I wish I could take a peek inside his mind. I wish I could tell how he’s feeling at this moment, because he looks like he’s ready to snap. “Everyone else…leave!” His tone leaves no room for argument, and the remaining survivors all scatter from the room as fast as they can.

Dr. Harlan rushes forward to undo the cuffs, and he and two soldiers half carry and half drag Wilkinson from the room. I wave Daisy and Felicia toward the nearest exit, leaving me alone with a confused looking Aaron. For a minute after everyone has gone, he and I just stare at each other, neither of us moving or speaking. Then his hand begins to tremble, and he looks down and sees the blood dripping from the end of the whip.

With a disgusted cry, he throws the rip away as if it were a venomous snake, and his entire body gives one giant shudder. “Maddy, I–”

“It’s alright, Aaron,” I say, rushing forward to wrap my arms around him. “It’s alright. You did what you had to do,” I tell him quickly, hoping to dissuade whatever guilt he’s feeling at the moment. “Wilkinson needed to be punished. If you hadn’t done it, who knows what the other soldiers might have done. Who knows what Wilkinson might have done; I feel much safer knowing that he’s been punished.”

“I just whipped a man, Maddy.” He sits down on one of the benches lining the walls, and I take a seat beside him. “God help me, I just whipped him until his skin split open and his back was covered in blood. He lost consciousness from the pain—the pain that I caused! What have I done?”

“You did what needed to be done. Don’t ever forget that. You got justice for me in a cruel, lawless world. You made sure that nothing like what happened to me will happen to anyone else here. Aaron, you’re our leader, and being the leader means you have to make the tough choices, sometimes without anyone to help you. For what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone else could have put aside whatever misgivings they had to do what needed to be done. You weren’t comfortable with this, but you did it anyways, because you thought it needed to be done.”

He looks at me, and I can see the pain in his eyes. “What if it wasn’t the right thing to do? I feel like some kind of sadist!”

“Did you enjoy hurting him?”

“Of course not!”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. You didn’t want to cause him harm, but you knew he had to be punished. Don’t let this get to you, Aaron. You’re strong, and you need to show these people that you’re not going to cave under the stress or the pressure.”

He puts his hands on his knees and ducks his head. His shoulders heave with either a sob or a dry heave. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

There’s a trashcan at the end of the bench, and I drag it in front of Aaron. The second my hand is out of the way, Aaron’s shoulders give another violent heave as he pukes. I look away, trying to give him some sort of privacy, but I still notice that not a lot seems to come up. “When was the last time you ate, Aaron?”

“I skipped dinner last night to go over the supply lists, and then I didn’t eat breakfast, either. I was hoping that if I skipped out on the eggs, I might not get sick after dealing with Wilkinson.”

“Come on,” I say, dragging him to his feet. “If you’re done puking, we need to get some food in you. Maybe there’s some leftover eggs and sausage. There was even homemade bread this morning that you missed out on.”

“I’ll eat later. The ladies are making more bread for lunch, but right now, I’m needed in the gymnasium. We’re not taking a break from training just because of this.” He looks at me and frowns. “Do you wanna sit in on the training? Or do you have something else you need to do?”

“I don’t know if I can help, but I’ll definitely keep you company. It’s not like I’ll be much use elsewhere.”

*****

Todd looks at me with obvious disinterest. He clearly doesn’t want to be here, but I get the feeling that Janelle is making him, and I wonder about the extent of their relationship. “So, how much do you know about self-defense?” I ask, hoping to make small talk, but knowing that he’ll probably ignore my attempts once again.

He decides to actually answer me this time. “I know a bit. I’m amazing at everything I do,” he says, flashing me an arrogant smile.

From my spot in the first row of the red bleachers, I roll my eyes at him, making sure that he can see it. Surprisingly, he chuckles, and I love the sound of it. It sounds almost carefree, yet still dark—almost like Todd doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance to laugh again. And given our current circumstances, he might not.

“Alright people, listen up,” Aaron says, barring me and Todd from continuing our short conversation. “I want you all to partner up and practice that lunge I showed you guys the other day. You remember the one I’m talking about right?” There are a few quiet mumbles from around the room, and Aaron looks almost sad at how uncomfortable these people obviously are around him. “Alright then. Get to practicing.”

Aaron walks around the gym, supervising the pairs as they practice a lunge meant to stab a zombie in the side of the head before it gets within biting distance. Todd is left alone without a partner, and I get up off the bleachers with a groan. Todd opens his mouth to object, but I wave my hand, silencing his protests. “Sitting around is going to help me feel any better. Maybe if I get up and move a bit I won’t be so sore.”

“I wasn’t here when he taught this lunge. You wanna show me how it’s done?” he asks. His momentary worry at my expense is long gone, and he’s ready to be a distant jerk again. “If you can’t show me the move, you may as well sit back down rather than wasting my time.”