The Farmer Hunter

by Drew M

“Take off your clothes,” growled the guard.

The two men and the woman stripped without protest. They folded and stacked their ragged outfits against a wall and lined up single file in the hallway, like well-behaved schoolchildren. The haggard trio stood shivering in the dark until the guard opened a door and led them into a small room where a fireplace warmed the air and danced shadows across the walls. In the middle of the room sat a wooden table with three meals of stew and stale bread laid out upon it. “Five minutes,” ordered the guard.

Thomas sat down before his ration and whispered a “Thank you” to no one in particular. He looked across the table at Walt, the engineer, and Deborah, the doctor, and couldn’t help feeling like an imposter. The Elders had declared him a farmer but the reality was that his knowledge of agriculture was limited - he had been a schoolteacher before the world changed.

Just a few weeks prior, there had been a fourth member of their dining party: an artist named Antoinette. But her status as an essential worker had been revoked as The Community’s food supply dwindled. She was left praying for scraps like the others.

Walt fumbled his bread and it fell to the floor. As he reached for it the click of a revolver’s hammer pierced the quiet. Walt turned slowly towards the guard, arms raised and chin quivering. Thomas spoke without looking up from his stew, “He’s not trying to take anything outta here, Jim, just picking up what he dropped.”

The guard lowered his gun while staring at Walt. “No funny stuff, alright? You know my orders if I catch you tryin’ to sneak food.”

The group finished their meals under the guard’s watchful eye. Then they exited the room, put their clothes back on, and rejoined the starving masses.

*****

Thomas made his way through the building at the heart of The Community’s compound - it had been a distribution warehouse long ago. He entered an enormous room that had once been filled with shrink-wrapped pallets of products that seemed like wild indulgences in hindsight. Now the room was home to the majority of The Community’s residents, scattered about on threadbare blankets and cardboard.

Thomas zigzagged through the crowd, ignoring the periodic pleas for help that rose above the chorus of groans. He eventually reached the corner apartment that he shared with his wife and daughter. A private room with a fireplace - another perk of being deemed an essential worker.

He entered the room and immediately spit a gooey mass of half-chewed bread into his hand. Then he went to his daughter as she lay on the floor. The fire illuminated her skeletal body, which looked more like a pile of emaciated limbs than a little girl. “Brooke, sweetie, wake up,” he said softly.

Her sunken eyes opened like stage curtains and her lips curled into a grin. “Do you get to stay with us today, Daddy?” she asked.

“Yes, princess.”

He took the mass of bread and put some of it into her mouth. She chewed it for a long time before swallowing hard. They repeated the process two more times until she had finished her meal.

“Thanks, Daddy. I’m gonna rest awhile and then we can play.”

“Of course, you do that,” he replied while stroking her cheek. He gently swept some loose strands of hair off her face and tucked them behind her ear. Then he kissed her forehead and whispered, “I love you the most.” She was back asleep before he stood up.

He looked towards his wife as she stood by the fire with her arms crossed. She stared back at him with red and puffy eyes. “Sarah, my love,” he said as he went to her. They embraced tightly, as if they could form a cocoon that would shield them from reality.

“Another snow day?” she asked as she stepped back and wiped away a sniffle.

“Yes, no work for me today.”

She gazed at the fire. “This winter has been too brutal. Will we have a spring harvest?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

Her nostrils flared as she turned back to look him in the eye. “Don’t patronize me.”

“No. I suspect we won’t. Should’ve planted weeks ago.”

She looked away again, towards Brooke. “It doesn’t matter. She won’t make it that long anyway.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something but stopped.

She looked back at him with an emotionless expression. “I’m going to kill myself.”

Thomas’s mouth fell open and a sense of nausea swept over him. He grabbed her shoulders and pleaded with her, “Sarah, don’t talk like that.”

“No, I’ve thought it through and it’s the only way. I want you to ... cut me up. Use my meat to save Brooke.”

“My god, Sarah. That’s ridiculous. Absolutely not.”

“Look at her, Thomas. It might already be too late. She is so weak ... she has days left.”

He looked down at Brooke as his eyes welled. He couldn’t argue with Sarah’s prognosis. He turned back to her and gave her a firm shake. “It’ll be me. I will take my life and the two of you will survive. That’s the only way.”

Sarah looked at him with a tender smile and took his hands in her own. “I remember when we first met. A man finding a woman all alone in this world. I assumed you’d rape and kill me. But you didn’t. You took me in. Protected me. Defended me. And most of all, you believed me: that the rumors of The Community weren’t make-believe. I would’ve never made it here without you.” She looked up toward the ceiling and blinked in a futile attempt to stifle her tears. “Now that I know you ... of course you did those things. You’re a good man, Thomas. And that’s why I knew you’d say it should be you and not me.” She flashed a smile that looked out of place on her flushed and tear-covered cheeks. “But it has to be me. Without your status, Brooke and I will lose the apartment. And then we are out in the great room with no place to keep or cook meat. We’d be fighting for a cold slab of concrete in the crowd. Don’t you see?”

“No, it’ll never work,” he responded while shaking his head. “Do you really think Brooke is going to eat her mother? Think of what that will do to her, Sarah.”

“I know,” she replied. “But there is no other way. And you can’t stop me.”

“There has to be another way,” he said, wracking his brain for an idea. His brow furrowed and he ran his hand over his face. “Maybe I could steal from the kitchen.”

“They’d make an example out of us, probably torture the entire family,” she replied. “Look, Thomas. It has to be...”

His eyes widened and his pulse rose. “I know! There’s a bow and arrow in the shed, down by the fields. I can hunt with it.” His tone hastened as he spoke his plan into life. “Yes, that’s it. I can hunt. I’ll go out into the woods and bring back meat.”

She cupped his cheek in her hand and looked at him while slowly shaking her head. “You’re no hunter.”

“Today I am. Give me one day, Sarah. I can do it. Just give me a chance.” She looked down at Brooke and then back up at him. “One day. That’s all. I don’t even know if she’ll make it to tomorrow.”

He pulled her close and kissed her. Then he gathered his winter gear and headed for the door. Before leaving he turned back. “I love you, Sarah. I can’t live in a world that doesn’t have you in it. Trust me, I can do this.”

*****

Thomas crunched his way through the snow, pulling his collar tight around his neck as the wind whipped against his face. He called out as he neared the guardhouse, “Morning, Doug.”

Doug jerked forward, startled from his nap. “What? Who is it?” He stood up from his chair. “Gate’s closed today.”

“It’s Thomas. I have to get out and take some soil samples.” There was of course no good reason to take a soil sample in a snow storm but Thomas correctly bet that Doug wouldn’t know that.

“Sorry Thomas. Strict orders. No one is to leave The Community today. Too dangerous out there with the weather being as it is.”

Thomas looked out at the frozen landscape beyond the gate before replying, “And if the spring crops fail, should I tell The Elders that Doug Cook at Gate 2 wouldn’t let me take the appropriate soil samples because of a little snow?”

Doug cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ll, I guess if it’s like, an official purpose...” Thomas was through the gate before Doug finished his sentence.

His next stop was the shed where The Community’s farm tools were stored. Once there, he packed a burlap sack with a rope, ax, and knife. Then he slung the bow and quiver over his shoulder. He’d been given the archery set with the hope that he might opportunistically bag a rabbit or deer that was raiding the crops. He never got a chance - in a world with so few humans, the animals seemed to have learned to stay away. It had still served a purpose though: he’d broken the monotony of more than a few long days with some impromptu target practice.

Thomas hustled from the shed into the forest. He’d once heard the hunting team bragging about a kill they’d made near an abandoned well a few miles down the path. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t have any better ideas of where to start.

As he passed through the barren trees, the snow stopped and the wind stilled. He looked up at the sky and figured he had about five hours of daylight left. Plenty of time. He felt a sense of optimism take hold as the well came into view. Everything was unfolding exactly as he’d planned. It’s going to work. He took a position behind a tree about thirty meters from the well, loaded an arrow into the bow, and laid in wait.

After an hour his optimism began to wane. He hadn’t seen or heard anything, and the weather was starting to turn. The wind picked up snow from the ground and twirled it through the air in mini cyclones. He closed his eyes and thought of Brooke and Sarah. He remembered them as they were months ago - laughing and warm on a summer night. I can’t fail.

His optimism turned to concern as each agonizing minute passed. There had still been no signs of life and the weather was worsening. Snow was falling steadily, reducing visibility, and he was growing cold as he sat sedentary. He decided to backtrack down the path and then circle the well in a wide perimeter.

He trudged through the snow for another hour with nothing to show for his effort. Fatigue was starting to set in - he may have been well-fed by The Community’s standards but he was still undernourished. He looked up at the sky and felt his anxiety rise. Only a couple more hours before it’s dark.

He suddenly had a disturbing thought: what if Sarah had only agreed to his plan in order to get him to leave the apartment? Her words replayed in his head, “You can’t stop me.” He wanted to sprint back. To yell her name and beg her to change her mind. His chest began to tighten and he could hear his heartbeat whooshing in his ears. He grabbed at his collar as he struggled to breathe. Just as he began to descend into a full-blown panic attack, he saw them: tracks in the snow.

Thomas rushed to the tracks and dropped to his knees. He had no idea how to identify them but he could tell that they belonged to something big. It has to be a bear. He had hoped for a squirrel, maybe a rabbit ... but a bear? That was almost too good to be true. He started to fantasize about the possibility. He could harvest as much meat as he could carry and lower the rest into the well for later. The freezing temperature would keep the meat and the well would prevent predators from stealing his kill. It was perfect.

He followed the tracks for another hour as they meandered aimlessly through the woods. He was trying to squash his growing concern that he was lost when he crested a hill and felt a sense of relief wash over him. The well was in a small clearing below. He squinted his eyes as he looked down at the modest stone structure. Is something moving behind it? Thomas dropped to his belly and waited. Eventually a dark paw extended out from behind the well and kicked snow. Yes - we are saved!

He made his way down the hill, scurrying from tree to tree. He set up behind a great oak just twenty meters from the well, positioned perfectly on the other side from the bear. He armed his bow with an arrow and waited patiently. It did not take long - within minutes the creature stirred and started to move. Thomas drew his bow and stood ready for the shot. Inch by inch, it moved into view until...

It’s a man.

Thomas’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He swung back to the cover of the tree and sat with his back to its trunk, banging his head against the rough bark. I’ve failed them.

There was no more time. Sarah would die. Brooke might too - it wouldn’t surprise him if she refused to participate in this particular brand of cannibalism. It was hopeless.

He closed his eyes and thought of the time Brooke had fallen and bumped her knee. He’d given her a “daddy kiss” and she’d agreed that it had made it all better. He’d felt like a hero that day. Like there was nothing he couldn’t do for his family.

His reminiscence was interrupted by the man unleashing a speech of monotone gibberish. Thomas peaked out from behind the tree and took in the scene more carefully. He didn’t recognize the man - he wasn’t a member of The Community. Probably one of the handful of people who sought to join their ranks each year. He was poorly dressed, with a thin coat and no gloves. Attached to his feet were a set of makeshift snowshoes that grossly distorted his tracks. He was looking down into the well, delivering his nonsensical lecture while shivering violently. The stranger punctuated his speech’s climax by stripping off his coat and sweater and throwing them into the well. This man has gone mad from hypothermia.

Thomas retreated behind the tree again, his mind filling with intrusive thoughts. He was suddenly engaged in an argument with himself.

He won’t live anyway.

No, that’s a line that can’t be crossed.

Thomas pulled at his hair while looking down at the ground.

Sarah will die.

You won’t be able to live with yourself.

He drew his knees into his chest and rocked back-and-forth.

Brooke won’t make it another week without food.

What has he done to deserve this?

I can’t let them down.

Thomas let out a long exhale and looked up at the sky, “Forgive me.” Then he picked up the bow, readied an arrow, and stepped out from behind the tree. For a moment Thomas and the stranger locked eyes. The man seemed to come out of his delirium, “Can you please help me?”

Thomas’s face was frozen in an expressionless trance. He drew his bow and released. The arrow found its target with a sickening thwack that would haunt Thomas’s dreams forever more.

A short time later he used the rope to lower the burlap sack into the well before covering the red snow around him with fresh powder. Then he put his hands over his bulging pockets and hurried back the way he’d come.

*****

“It’s so good, Daddy,” Brooke said, as grease dripped down her chin.

Thomas reached over to her face and scooped the grease back into her mouth with the side of his finger. “Just don’t waste any of it, sweetheart.”

Thomas looked at her and smiled. I can’t believe how quickly she’s recovered. It had only been two weeks and yet she already seemed to be her old self. The color had returned to her cheeks and she’d been bouncing around the apartment again. She’d even needed a “daddy kiss” following a recent tumble.

He had already returned to the well two times. Once he’d slipped away on a workday and once he’d reminded Doug of the importance of soil samples. By his calculation, they’d have enough meat to make it to late-winter. He didn’t know what he’d do then, but that was a problem for another day.

He looked over at Sarah as she sat with a content grin. For the last few days, she had worn that same smile like it was a tattoo. She looked over and met his gaze. “I still can’t believe you killed a bear,” she whispered as she ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “I never should have doubted you. You’re a good man.”