‘Where’s Cassie, daddy?’ Meg asked.
​
Levi stoked the fire with a long leg bone. Bones made up for the scarcity of dead wood and they were surprisingly good fuel. The fire lasted longer.
​
‘Dunno,’ he said, his eyes glowing red from the flames. ‘Maybe he got lost in the woods.’
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‘What woods, daddy?’
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‘There are some twigs some ways away. We’ll find him, don’t worry.’
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Meg, still some years shy of adolescence, had an adult’s posture. Her big head stood high and steady on small shoulders and her hands rested on her hips.
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‘He don’t play with us no more. He’s gone for good,’ she said.
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‘We’ll find him.’
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Just like her mother, this one, Levi thought. She even looks like her, sounds like her. She stands close enough to him that her voice becomes more than an irritant, almost physical like a fly. He swatted flies. Especially now that summer was upon them.
‘Do you know where—’
​
‘Meg, dear,’ Levi said. ‘Go outside awhile. Let daddy think.’
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Meg turned up her nose and followed it outside the house.
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Levi observed her leaving. There were twelve children in total, all living on the farmstead they had built for themselves. The children were of good constitution, tireless beings. On the other hand, Joanna, Meg’s mother, had starved quickly. And he would have followed her into that darkness if Ryker and his party hadn’t taken them in.
​
Then Ryker died and several others. Now it was him, Sigrid, Paul, and Red. Just one woman amongst them; this was often the source of their unrest and sadness.
​
The children played outside. They had invented a game between them which they called Frog and Fox. They crouched in a circle like frogs, with their legs apart. When the non-frog standing in the middle of the circle said ‘go’, the frogs leaped away as far as they could. The non-frog counts to ten and then says ‘stop’, and the frogs halt their leaping. The one closest to the non-frog becomes a fox and and has to tag every frog—who can now start leaping again—before the non-frog finishes counting down from ten.
​
Levi thought it an interesting diversion. Some of these children had never seen a frog or a fox. Hell, none of them had, he was sure.
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Where had the game come from? Not from him or Sigrid or Paul or Red, that’s for sure.
​
Paul came in now and sat on a stool, catching his breath.
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‘Where’ve you been?’ Levi asked.
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‘Thought I saw a roe.’
Paul was sweating, pulling his cotton trousers to let some air between the fabric and his thighs. His shirt was soaked, sticking to him like rubber.
The man was a filthy liar. Levi could tell he was lying now because whenever he lied, his tongue came out a-wagging like he was scattering the rot of his tall tale.
‘We had to clean the remains, Red and me again,’ Levi said. ‘It should’ve been your turn.’
Paul huffed and said nothing.
‘You have a watch, don’t you?’ Levi asked.
‘What watch?’
‘The goddamn sun that still deigns to rise. Next time, you’ll be here by four.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Paul said.
Levi could tell from his tone of voice that Paul was relieved that the questioning and the badgering were over. He knew that the smaller, younger man was scared stiff of him. He should be because he was the one in charge now.
‘They’re all gathered already,’ Levi said. ‘Perhaps we should start the thing. Get Sigrid over here.’
‘How’d you reckon I know where Sigrid is?’
‘Stop horsing around and call the others before it gets dark.’
Paul stood. For a moment, his body blocked all of the sunlight coming in through the open door. The sun was low on the horizon.
Paul left and Levi continued to stoke the fire. What with the fire going out in a minute, it would get cold very soon. They could not afford any more lingering and hesitation.
The children continued their game. Their laughter was like a shot of whiskey, except it didn’t burn. It went to Levi’s head, made him fly a little. Made him tear up sometimes.
Paul returned with Sigrid and Red.
‘You ready?’ Paul said.
‘It must be done,’ Levi said. ‘And quickly.’
He stood from where he’d been sitting and went to them. The trio parted so he could pass through the door first.
A gush of wind bit the tip of his nose. He felt his heart flutter before he clapped his hands twice.
‘Gather round, gather round,’ he told the children. ‘Time for one game of chase before bed.’
The children screamed a merry collective scream, a shrill cry that leapt to the darkening heavens.
Paul, Red, and Sigrid came from behind him and stood in a line.
‘On your marks,’ Levi said. ‘Get ready. Go!’
And the children ran. Levi kept his eyes on Meg who, unfortunately, did not run like an adult. Far from it. She was the slowest of the bunch. He sprinted after them and he felt the wind of the other three running next to him. He heard their grunting.
Levi tried to keep his eyes on Meg but he got dizzy fast. He took off the quickest, hoping to be the first to catch, but he ran out of steam first. Paul, nimbler and younger, outran him. The man’s long arms stretched out, they made contact with the slowest child. He picked her up and put his hand over her mouth.
Meg.
The other children kept running as they’d always been instructed.
Levi fell to the dry grass. ‘No,’ he mumbled. ‘We’ll have to try again in the morning. It’s getting dark.’
Meg did not kick or cry out. It was a game like Frog and Fox. She lost, that’s all.
‘Come on now,’ Paul said, putting Meg down but keeping a hand on her shoulder. ‘Rules is rules.’
Levi stood. ‘You were late. So we try again tomorrow.’
‘It’s still enough light,’ Sigrid said. ‘We can get it over with quickly.’
‘I said no.’
‘Levi,’ Red said. ‘We need to keep that fire going. We need to prepare the—I’m sorry but this is no time to be soft. Rules is rules.’
All against him, even Sigrid. Sigrid would have been on his side a few weeks ago.
‘He was late,’ Levi said. A few steps towards Paul and he would crack him in the jaw, and then the others would back off.
‘Come now, Levi,’ Red said in a wise old voice. ‘It was always a matter of time.’
‘What’s happening, daddy?’ Meg said. She looked tall and solid enough to shrug off Paul’s hand.
She was like her mother but Levi wished she was like her a little more, given to illness. As it turned out, she was more like him when it came to the body. Slow but tough. She’d survived many winters and many summers and many seasons that weren’t quite like either. And now she was asking him another question that would force from him another lie.
‘Paul shirked his duties today,’ Levi said. ‘He was supposed to do the cleaning. So what’s this about rules?’
Red approached him now and blocked his view of his daughter. Levi knew the purpose of Red’s closeness: he would attempt to stop him if he interfered. There was no need. Red’s eyes prevented any movement from him. Those eyes were bright and yellow in the falling sun and cradled a crescent of tears.
‘She’ll find happiness,’ Red said, ‘in a bountiful world beyond this one.’
There was beauty in those eyes, that voice, and that hope.
Meg started screaming when she was being dragged away, when she must have finally understood what had happened to Cassie.
‘Daddy, please,’ she screamed.
A scream so shrill and cruel as if crows had returned to the wingless sky. If he let this happen, from now on, for Levi, the sky would always have birds. And they would look at him morning, afternoon, and night like he was carrion waiting to be fed on.
‘Take him instead, daddy,’ Meg cried.
‘Stop,’ Levi said and he went to where Paul and Meg were grappling with each other. ‘Let her go.’
‘The nerve on this child,’ Sigrid said.
‘No,’ Levi said. ‘She’s right. Paul neglected his duties. Today, we choose him.’
Paul laughed nervously. ‘That’s not the rules.’
‘That’s the new rules,’ Levi said. ‘Today, you’ll keep the fire going for the rest of us.’
‘Kill him, daddy,’ Meg screamed.
And Levi did. With nothing more than his fists and a burst of hellish energy, Levi dispatched of Paul in a few thick minutes as Sigrid and Red watched, looks of horror on their faces.
But not on Meg’s. Meg scrutinised the bloodied Paul with her hands on her hips.
‘We’ll tell the children that he got lost in the woods,’ she said.
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