Page 17 of All Your Days (Mayhem Manuscripts Season One: 1nf3ction #4)

He’s pointing off to the distance where the sun is setting over the desert. We’re later than I wanted to be, having lost a decent chunk of the afternoon to a broken tire on the trailer. It took longer than usual to fix without my usual team here to give me a hand.

“It’s incredible .” He lets go of my arm, walking towards the beautiful view.

I can’t fault him—the day has been a relentless monotony of dry, cracked orange-red ground and rocks. There’s barely even been any scrub to break up the journey.

But this… I’ve never seen the land like this; we’re never here this late in the day.

Off in the distance, low-lying hills spring up from the otherwise endlessly flat earth. With the sun nearly ready to set, the oranges and red and browns of the dirt only become more bold, with great streaks of white—almost like smears of paint—highlighting the area's beauty.

“C’mon, we’ve got a couple hours ahead of us still.” I hate to pull him away, but I want to get off the road before it’s dark. “There’s a second road through there, for when the rains come. We’ll head that way back home.”

Reluctantly, Eli follows me the short distance back to the camels and we keep walking. While today has been better than the absolute silence of yesterday, it hasn’t been the conversation of our second day out on the road.

Sure, Eli’s been happy to ask me to stop so he can keep collecting the little bits that catch his eye along the road. A feather, a flower, and once was a white rock, shot through with a rainbow of colours that was once mined round these parts.

He also pointed out every single critter he saw. Every—single—one . It would be annoying from anyone else, but every time he called out, I found myself smiling along with him.

And a few times, he inhaled sharply, turning to me with his mouth open and then… nothing. He just shook his head and kept walking. When he did talk, it was never anything that meant anything—comments about the weather or a rock in his shoe.

Because of me, things are different between us all over again. The quiet’s not like the silent distance between us back at The Facility. At first, yesterday, I thought he was angry at me, but it seems more cautious than that. Almost like he’s worried about upsetting me. It’s an unfamiliar feeling.

If only I could be as brave as he is, and be open . I would be able to say something to bridge the gap between us before it gets out of control. Not that I even know how to do it.

The two urges war within me with each step. Keep him at a safe distance, even if it upsets him, or start dismantling the walls I’ve kept around myself and risk everything.

“So–uh. The, um—drawin’” The words trip awkwardly off my tongue, like I’ve never spoken a word a day in my life.

Why is this so difficult? Surely there is a snake—a zombified fucking eagle— anything that could come out of the scrub and end my misery.

I clear my throat like that ’s the problem and try again. “How’d’ya get into the drawing?”

Eli’s surprised by the question, I can tell—he jumps subtly in surprise that I’ve spoken.

“Uh, no idea actually. I started scribblin’ at school, and I dunno.

I was just better at it than the other kids.

” He kicks a rock, sending it skidding ahead.

“I liked the attention it got me, so I kept goin’.

I got better over time and yeah. A few years back I drew a picture for a friend whose brother had to go under.

The brother was scared he was going to be forgotten and my friend was cut up about it, so I drew ‘em together. Then, someone else asked, and it just went from there.”

“Was that your friend Matty?”

“Nah, another friend of ours. Nathaniel. He died a few years back. ‘Member the fires? He’s one of the ones we lost then. It was his asthma, though. He wasn’t out fightin’ ‘em.”

I remember the bushfires he’s talking about vividly. Felt like the whole compound worked together around the clock to keep us all safe. There was a collective funeral after for the twelve we lost. It was an awful time. The grief seemed to cling to The Facility like the fogs I saw as a kid.

“I’m real sorry. For your loss.” Could I sound any more uncomfortable? Probably not. Eli peeks up at me from the corner of his eye. I swear I can see his smile twitching the scarf across his face.

“Thanks.” He bumps his shoulder into my arm. I have to cover my hasty, relieved exhale with a cough. “Jessica might be pregnant. They were going to the docs the day we left. It’s probably why she was so over the top when she was saying goodbye.”

“Ah, yeah. It seemed… unusual? They must be happy.” I don’t know Jessica well—not personally anyway. But because she’s such a big part of Eli’s life, I’ve always been aware of her, probably more than what would be considered normal since I’ve barely spoken to her.

“Yeah, they’re excited. I just can’t imagine it, though, y’know? Seems like such a big thing. Kinda glad I get to just play uncle with this one.”

I huff a laugh, murmuring an agreement, because honestly, the idea of having children is horrifying to me.

I can’t think of anything worse than being responsible for a child.

Considering I’ve been obsessed with Eli since I first arrived, don’t sleep with women, and generally make a point to avoid any and all emotional connections in life, having kids hasn’t exactly been high on my priority list. But in The Facility babies are considered a blessing.

It ends up just being one more way that I’m different to the rest of them.

Except Eli, apparently.

“Are they gonna announce it at the fire pit?” It’s the usual practice to announce that sort of thing at the fires. It gives everyone an extra excuse to celebrate.

“Nah, it’s a bit early yet, I reckon.”

The comfortable silence drags out, and then, I just have to go and try to ruin it. “You must be disappointed to be missing out on the fire anyway. Heard you had a date.”

What in the world drove me to say that? For the love of… cursing under my breath, my eyes sink shut and my head rolls back.

Though when I peek, Eli is looking at me again, with a sly look in his eye. I can tell he’s definitely smiling under his scarf—his eyes are all scrunched up.

“You heard ‘bout that?”

I grunt and suck at my teeth. Then immediately stop when I realise I’m starting to sound as bad as the camels.

“Heard about it? Daniel was this close,” I hold two fingers up with the tiniest gap between them, “to knockin’ the commander unconscious to use the comms systems to tell everyone within reach that he finally managed to get you to agree to have a drink with him.”

A sharp laugh erupts from Eli, his scarf slipping from his face with the shake of his head. “Yeah, he was eager.”

“And you’re not?” I can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.

“Well,” Eli says slowly. He slips his hands into the pockets of his pants, his elbows flared just enough to bump into me with each step. “It’s not that I’m not eager. I just don’t think Daniel is the fella for me.”

“Ah. So is there someone you have your eye on instead?” Even though we’re still walking, it feels like time stops with my question. Why would I ask that? What am I even doing here?

Once, when I was really, really young, I saw someone get attacked by a zombified feral pig. The thing savaged the man. Nearly eviscerated him. One arm had literally hung from the sinew and bits from his shoulder by the time the thing was done with the man.

In this moment, where it feels like fate itself hangs in the balance, I can’t help but think back fondly about that pig, and wonder what it would take to run into a zombified beast of my own.

Anything to stop my mouth from running ahead of me and leading me into trouble.

I’ll be proposing marriage before I know it.

I can feel the burn of Eli’s eyes on the side of my face. My ears feel hot. My fucking fingers feel like they’re about to fall off from the throbbing in them.

“Yeah, Jacob.” Eli’s voice is soft. He has no idea the way my heart is squeezing painfully in my chest. “There’s someone I’ve got my eye on.”

Well.

Fuck.

Where the fuck are the raiders when I need them? I know I am meant to say something here. Something along the lines of ‘I got my eyes on you, too.’ Which seems like an awful joke, considering the whole ‘watching from afar’ thing I’ve got going on.

Huey would tell me to use my words. Goontie would tell me to make a reference to my massive dick. Kennedy… Well, Kennedy wouldn’t put up with any of this shit. But he’d probably agree with Huey.

I don’t know how to say the words. I don’t know how to say that I’m scared of having what I want because I don’t know if I can survive losing my world again.

And I don’t know how to say that, after these three short days, I don’t know if I can go back to what we had before anyway.

That I’ve gotten used to hearing his laugh, and his constant wildlife observations, and the way that he sees the beauty in all the things out here I’ve taken for granted.

That I want more of it. That I want to get to know everything about him. That I’ve fantasised about watching him sketch for fuck’s sake. I want to know exactly how he takes his tea in the morning, when it’s not made over a camp stove, and if he flinches when he does his tests back home.

So I grunt. Again. Like the fucking camels. I must really sound like one, too, because Adeeko’s head lurches forward, his big black lashing batting at me for attention.

“Yo-ho! Lights ahead!” Ryan whoops from the front of our train when the sun is nearly well and truly gone. True enough, torches are blazing, leading the way to the outpost like an oasis in the desert.

The outpost settlement is mostly dark at this time of night, but not the watchtowers spaced periodically around the borders.

Bright white floodlights, somehow powered by the sun, light up the tall, wooden tower and the area around them.

In each watchtower, a guard waits at all hours of the day.

When we reach the first marker, a flag drops from the tower directly to the left of the entry. They’ve seen us.

I whistle for our train to stop and we stand in the road—dirty and exhausted. But we’ll be shot if we go any further without clearance.

“Arms up.” I call out, just like I warned them all over lunch. Thankfully, everyone listens. Our hands are off our weapons, raised high in the air. After a minute, a second flag drops on the right-hand side.

“And we’re clear. Let’s go.” We’re slow making our way, the guard trio bringing up the rear of us, more than happy to let me take the lead—and be the one up front if there're gunshots.

“What happens if you go off the road? There isn’t a fence between the towers?” Eli asks, peering around constantly. Not that he can see far. It’s too dark and the torches don’t give off much light.

“You get shot. You learn pretty quickly when travelling between outposts and settlements to stick between the flags. It’s for your safety, too, that it’s okay to enter.”

“Ah. Is that what happ—” Eli cuts off abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh shit. That was rude. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay.” I reassure him. He looks like he’s about to freak out on me. “But yeah, that’s what happened. There were no flags. Sarah wanted to make sure things were okay. She had friends there.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Eli lays a hand on my arm.

I look down at his tanned fingers against my darker skin. In the space of four days he’s managed to offer me more acknowledgement, more comfort, than I think I’ve received in my whole life. And we didn’t even talk for at least a day of that.

I’m too tired to process it. It’s making me think all kinds of crazy thoughts.

“So, where we headin’? I wanna get these babies put to bed.” Lou jumps down from Sheba, ripping Eli and me away from the moment. He snatches his hand back like he’s scorched.

“Yeah. Yeah, yep. Let’s—let’s do it then.”

And with that, we enter the outpost.