A Good Leader

Your faces are the first thing I see. I blink sleep from my eyes and there you are, and for a moment my heart leaps. I yawn widely, and as the oxygen rushes to my brain it brings with it the realisation. It’s just a photograph, and the three of you are still lost. You’re out there, somewhere, wandering. I hope so, anyway, the alternative is unthinkable.
I pull myself out of bed and stretch, getting dressed quickly so I don’t have time to notice how crumpled and musty my clothes are. I take my place with everyone else for the latrines, splash rain water on my face and take a seat at the long tables in the Square to eat my breakfast.
I listen to the hubbub of conversation as I do. It’s like bees, I think, a background buzz that tells me how the community is feeling today. Some days it is a relaxed hum, other days it’s the zing of a tightened violin string; it depends on how many incidents we’ve had. It’s easy for us to fall into a false sense of security when none of the Others have been seen for a while.
When I’ve eaten I get straight to work, we need to expand. We have had two dozen new refugees in the last week, and space is getting tight. It’s not just disease that is a concern, its tempers.
We were spoilt, before the Others came; used to having our own houses and lots of space inside them. Now, families have one room, if they’re lucky, until we can clear more streets of their infestations and make them secure.
I’m still not sure how I became their leader. I wasn’t born into a position of power, I wasn’t elected, it was just when the Others came and the world turned to blood and panic, I kept my head. I kept a ragtag bunch of neighbours safe, and gradually we built a community. I had to do something. I needed a distraction from a heart filled with terror at what had happened to you; my family.
If I’d made a different decision that morning, if I had decided to come with you for the hike, then I wouldn’t have had this torment. Live or die at the hands of the Others, we’d have been together. Instead I’ve been in limbo, not knowing, not able to take an exit like some have chosen to. I had to stay and fight, so I was here if you came back.
The metal fences at the end of our safe zone are clear of Others as I arrive this morning, the work team are in place and ready to go. I give them a smile that I hope communicates pride and reassurance, we need to be confident. When we take a new street it’s dangerous. We have to take a small team out of the safe zone and secure more houses, bit by bit. We’ve done it a few times, and by using temporary fences to create an air lock we can minimise the risk. The Others are masterful at staying still and quiet though, and sometimes we’re surprised. We’ve lost people, they died under my command. I console myself that they knew the risk, that they died for the greater good, but the words ring hollow.
We talk over plans, I give a few words of encouragement and turn to walk back to ‘HQ’. I dislike the term, I struggled against the need for a leader hoping that some kind of democratic commune could work but it didn’t. Human nature can be ugly at times like these, and more and more often I needed to be the final word. When I get in, there are two people waiting to see me; Danny, who is helping any new arrivals this week, and Carol, stores. Neither of them looks like they are here to deliver good news.
Danny speaks first. It’s uncharacteristic, he’s usually polite to the point of deferential but he talks over Carol today.
‘I think it’s your family.’
I stare at him for a good five seconds.
‘They say they are. They say they lived here. A man, two kids, a boy and a girl,’ Danny continues.
I nod calmly but there is so much inner turmoil. Could it be? I swallow down a hard ball of emotion, and clear my throat before I speak.
‘Standard intake procedures, Danny.’
He stares at me like he’s not sure I’m human.
‘You don’t want to see them?’ he asks.
I want to scream at him ‘Of course I do, you fool! But what if it isn’t them? Or worse, what if they’re contaminated?’
Instead I say ‘I’ll be over as soon as I can, but whoever they are, they need to go through intake.’
I see a moment of rebellion from Danny, then he accepts the truth of what I’m saying. I could destroy this whole community if I bring them in without checking for contamination. One bite from an Other and they could be carrying young that would eat them from the inside out, then swarm through the camp and destroy us all.
I turn to Carol who is looking at me with a new respect. Not trusting my voice I incline my head in question to her as Danny leaves to see these newcomers through intake.
I focus intently on Carol, it helps to quiet the babbling of my mind.
‘Mick Roberts has been stealing again,’ Carol tells me.
I sigh. If I needed a distraction, this was it. Mick Roberts was on his second strike; one more and he would be ejected from the community. A mans life now rested in my hands.
It wasn’t the first time I’d had to make the choice to let someone go. I’d struggled with the decision, but when you have a person who continually steals, or starts fights, then you have to protect the community. For minor crimes, we have a three strike system, anything major and it’s instant ejection. It sounds like a fair system, but for a people brought up with justice, police investigations and DNA evidence it’s hard to ever be really sure if you’ve made the right choice.
‘You’re sure?’ I ask Carol, but I know the answer. She wouldn’t be here asking me if she wasn’t.
‘Caught him red handed, in the stores,’ she explains.
I nod, ‘Alright. I have to go and speak with the Doc, check what they need for supplies. Can you call a town meeting for lunch time?’
Carol promises she will and leaves, I close my eyes. There hasn’t been an easy day since the Others came, but today is shaping up to be especially trying.
A couple of hours later and I’ve been to the Doc and got an inventory of supplies he needs and where we might find them. Another dangerous mission for someone, but we need medicine. We have diabetics, heart conditions, and cancer patients we can’t do more than make comfortable.
I make my way to the Square where most of the community has assembled. Mick Roberts stands with his family, they all look pale and wide eyed. I approach them and speak in a loud voice, so that it reaches everyone eating their lunch.
‘Mick, you’ve been caught stealing from the stores, is there anything you can say in your defence?’
Mick glares at me angrily ‘If you were more generous, I wouldn’t have to steal.’
I take a deep breath and nod, so he’s not denying it.
‘If you send him out, we go too!’ his wife suddenly shrieks, stepping in front of him like a human shield.
The Square has gone quiet, I look out over the people there and see them all watching me expectantly. Right now, they want me to be a good leader. They want me to do the right thing, the thing that they don’t want to do themselves.
As my eyes travel, I find my focus narrowing to three figures. A man. Two children, a boy and a girl. I don’t want to look too closely, just in case, but then my heart leaps with joy and forces me to admit that it is you. You all look dazed, and it’s no surprise. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through in the last few months as you made your way home, and now you find safety. You find me, your wife, your Mum, who did nothing more than clean the house and put food on the table, making life or death decisions.
I want to fall to my knees and thank gods that I’ve long since stopped believing in that you’re here. I want to run to you and wrap you in my arms, cover you in kisses, weep happy tears.
I can’t do any of those things though. I tear my gaze from you and return my focus to the Roberts family.
‘If you choose to do that, then I won’t stop you,’ I say, as calmly and kindly as I can ‘but you know the dangers. The rest of you are welcome to stay, but this is Mick’s third strike. He has to go.’
The square begins to buzz, and I know the timbre; grateful that it wasn’t them who had to make the choice. They approve.
‘You’ve killed us all then!’ shouts Mick’s wife.
I compose my features and nod to the men who are on security detail today ‘Escort them out.’
The Roberts clan do not go easily. They shout, they scream, they wail. We hear their noisy progress to the gate, hear them damning us even as they take provision packs to give them a start. It’s when the baby starts to cry that I wobble, my knees feeling suddenly soft beneath me.
Then a hand comes to rest on my shoulder and I turn to look for the first time in months into my husband’s eyes. I see compassion there, love and understanding. He still knows me better than anyone, and knows how hard this has been.
‘They tell me you’re a good leader,’ he says, and he sounds proud.
I look down at my children, more beautiful than any memory and I see something else. I see an accusation that I have just sent a family out into the terror that they have only just returned from. I close my eyes, swallow my guilt, and wrap them in my arms. I don’t think I’ll ever let go of them again.