Chapter 50
Remy
One thing that I really disliked about the otherwise adequate apartment was that the sole source of sunlight was the skylight. Not even the tiny bathroom had a window. But that was because it was actually a closet with a composting toilet and a water basin.
I imagined the skylight would be nice in the summer, without the snow constantly blocking it out, or if I wasn’t confined to a solitary room.
If I was being fair, the first week of my recovery, the lack of natural light was kind of nice. I was mostly sleeping, and the apartment was like a dark, warm cave. Even into the second week, I was still asleep more than I was awake.
Around that time, as I started being alert more often, Jordy began spending more time with me. In the evenings, he brought over supper. Usually fatty salmon and potatoes or a hearty vegetable stew for me and him, and a mix of vegetables with raw meat, eggs, and boiled oats for Ripley.
For his part, Jordy did what he could to make being virtually bedbound bearable for me. The most obvious ways were medicine for inflammation and fighting infection, as well as the grinleaf for pain, usually at night.
I didn’t like talking about myself, so he carried most of the conversation. He filled me in about his life and how he’d ended up as a chemist in a frozen little town in the mountain pass.
His childhood sounded about the same as anyone else’s before the virus. His dad left, so it was him and his mom. They lived in the city of Kamloops, where she worked as a professor at the university.
When the zombies started showing up, his mom only lasted another two weeks before they got her. Jordy ran around, tagging along with other survivors where he could. The military came in and eventually liberated the city, burning it to the ground along with all the zombies.
Everyone that wasn’t infected was hauled off to quarantine zones, which Jordy referred to as “the camps.” He was thrown in a room with dozens of other orphaned kids, and for a little while there, he described it as being dangerously close to going very Lord of the Flies.
Fortunately – or unfortunately, I couldn’t really tell by his tone how he felt – he was plucked out by the military after scoring particularly well on something called the ARK.
“What’s the ARK?” I asked.
“It stands for Adaptive Resilience & Knowledge,” he explained.
“It’s a whole battery of tests that are designed to basically see if you are smart enough and not too traumatized to survive.
Not to toot my own horn, but I scored well enough that I ended up getting hauled over to Cold Shore to finish my education. ”
“You were a part of Cold Shore?” I asked, surprised.
“Sorta, for a year or two.” He shrugged.
“I was stuck in their outpost in Glacier Valley where their education program was. It only had me and a handful of other teenagers. But they didn’t let us do anything at all, except study and work for them.
So as soon as I turned eighteen, I decided I wasn’t going to let anyone own me anymore.
I bugged out and went all the way to Xwechtáal.
It’s quiet and safe here, and nobody bothers me.
I’m allowed to live my life as I pleased so I stayed. ”
“But at Cold Shore, weren’t you helping to save the world?” I asked.
“Mostly I was studying, doing math equations, sweeping floors. If I got lucky, I was rinsing out beakers,” he replied with a crooked smile.
“Well, yeah, cause you were still a teenager,” I reasoned. “Once you had learned enough, you could’ve been a scientist and worked on finding a cure.”
His smile only deepened at that, as if I had said something particularly amusing. “I think maybe you’ve gotten the wrong idea of me.”
“How so?” I asked, suddenly feeling nervous.
“I helped you, because I like helping people when I can,” he clarified.
“But I am no optimist nor am I a fool. I know a lost cause when I see one, and I could tell you were right on the edge – ” He held his fingers half an inch a part to demonstrate.
“ – so trust me on this one. Even if Cold Shore does find a cure, which is already dubious enough, there is no saving the world. The world we knew is gone, and it ain’t ever coming back. ”
“Then why did you save me?” I pressed. “What’s the point if we’re all going to die?”
“Everyone was always going to die,” Jordy observed. “In the best of situations, human lives are tragically short.”
“You know what I meant. If we’re all doomed.”
“I didn’t say that we’re all doomed,” he corrected me. “Sure, civilization is doomed. But you and I, we’re alive, and we’re still capable of feeling pain and feeling happiness. So why not strive for happiness, since we’re here anyway?”
“You really believe it’s as simple as that?” I asked. “Choosing happiness over suffering?”
“No, of course it’s not that simple,” he said. “There are a million other factors pushing and pulling us between the two. But when it’s all said and done, I still think the pursuit of happiness is a worthwhile thing, even if you never quite attain it.”
“That sounds easy to say when you’re not the one sitting there with all the broken bones,” I remarked dryly, and he laughed in agreement.
It took nearly four weeks from when I first arrived at Xwechtáal before I was able to sit up fully without too much pain. This was a particularly exciting milestone for me because it allowed for a new activity beyond talking or reading.
Jordy pulled over the table and chair, sitting beside my bed, and we played with an old deck of cards. Gin rummy the most, but War sometimes, especially if I was feeling restless.
“When do I get to see the sun again?” I asked one night.
Jordy was leaning on the table, his glass of wine next to his empty plate, as he absently flipped through the cards in his hand.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“There isn’t any sunlight here. I haven’t seen the sun in a month,” I pointed out.
“What?” He glanced around the room in confusion, and when his gaze landed on the snow-covered skylight, his eyes widened in realization. “There isn’t any sunlight in here this time of year.”
“That is literally what I just said.”
“I guess I don’t spend enough time in here in the winter,” he admitted sheepishly. “I usually rent out the flat here and there, and only come in here to clean.”
“Well, I’m not really complaining. You’ve been nice enough to put me, my lion, and my mule up, and a lack of windows really isn’t the worst I’ve been through,” I said.
“I’m more just saying that I’m feeling a little stir crazy and wanna get out of this room.
But now that we’ve mentioned it, isn’t it unhealthy for me not having any sun? ”
“No, it’s not great,” he allowed. “But I’ve already been supplementing your diet with salmon, fatty cuts of venison in our stew, and lots of mushrooms. They all give you vitamin D, and the mushrooms are great for preventing scurvy. But that’s also why I put rosehips in your tea, too.”
“Wait, you’re saying there’s a chance I could get scurvy?” I asked.
“Yeah, it happens if you don’t get enough vitamin C, which you were probably already lacking on your days on the road before you collapsed at my doorstep,” he said.
“I wasn’t on your doorstep,” I disputed, as if that would somehow change his point. “I just didn’t realize that scurvy was a thing that effected anyone outside of pirates.”
“It’s actually a real concern for anyone living in the subarctic.” His expression had shifted to disbelief. “How have you survived this long on your own?”
“I – ” I started, planning to argue that I’d survived this long because of a mixture of my own stubbornness and a curse that left me burdened to live when everyone else died.
Then I realized that wasn’t true at all.
I mean, stubbornness and spite had at least a little bit to do with it.
But I also remembered Stella spending long hours in the forest foraging for us, and Serg reading cookbooks and survival books to find the best way to feed us.
Ripley and I would hunt, but Boden and Max were fishing and gardening.
And that was all before counting my time in the communities of Emberwood and the S. S. Barbarabelle.
“I survived this long because I wasn’t on my own,” I replied thickly. “I was… I was only truly alone for a few weeks, and you saw how well I did. And even then I wasn’t alone, because I had Ripley and Vince with me the entire time.”
“The good news is that you’re still not alone.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “How about this? You give it a few more days on bedrest, and we can try taking the stairs? You could see Vince, and if you’re feeling up to it, I could even give you a tour of my house next door.”
I swallowed back my sadness and forced a smile. “That sounds wonderful.”