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

It’s not that I want the tall, frowning shadow following me about, glowering at me whenever I talk or laugh or just exist. But it’s become familiar . Like the way you get used to the nauseating gruel they serve in the cafeteria during lean harvests.

And besides, even if he’s only spoken a handful of words to me in the past ten years, he did save me from the snake. So I owe him. Probably. Mostly, I just try to pretend he’s not there.

Which doesn’t explain why the many, many practice sketches that fill my drawing books all resemble Jacob. It’s something I try not to think about.

A beam of light shoots through my small pod, followed by the sounds of the mechanical lock.

Freedom.

As I collect my papers and my vial and leave my room, the bell for breakfast sounds.

It means that I’m joined by my fellow grunts making their way to the cafeteria.

Depositing my vial at the collection point, I slip away from the crowd.

Most of the residents use the elevators up to the cafeteria on the ground floor.

I prefer the stairs—not only is it great for avoiding the long waits for the elevators; the exercise is pretty much all I get from being in the Labs all day.

“Oi, Eli. You got the thing?” Emerging in the cafeteria, I’ve barely shut the stairwell door when the first of my ‘clients’ approaches me.

“Yeah, I got it. Let me get my food then come see me.” I brush off the farm worker with a smile and make my way to the queue.

The cafeteria is technically open to the whole compound, but it’s only really utilised by the guards, grunts, and craftsmen who live in the main building.

They serve three meals a day, and one of my jobs is to collect lunch and dinner for the staff in the Labs.

If I don’t do it, a lot of the times they forget to eat, too caught up in their jobs.

Joining the lineup for breakfast, a familiar awareness crawls up my back, my hands tightening around the stack of artwork in my hands.

Jacob.

The need to turn and look for him burns at my guts, but I suppress it.

“Boo!”

The shout, right in my ear, makes me jump and flail, my tray hitting the grunt in front of me. They turn to glare at me and the cackling woman now clinging to my arm.

“Sorry! Sorry!” I hold up one hand trying to placate them. I’m not entirely sure who they are—I recognise the face, but don’t know their name—and turn to hiss at my friend. “For the love of… Stop doin’ that!”

Jessica rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder into mine. “Then stop bein’ so easy to spook, you dork.”

Her loud, cackling laughter draws the attention of everyone around us. Jessica always seems to be laughing. It’s one of the things I love about her. I love it less when it’s at me, though.

Along with Matty, we’ve been close since we were kids.

Our friendship isn’t a common one. Jessica grew up inside the main building, on the above ground residential levels.

Her mum was an agriculture specialist in the Ags department, and her dad was with the original unit of armymen assigned to protect her.

It was how they did things back in the day.

Her father moved back to the Union barracks a few years back after her mother turned, but Jessica chose to stay, continuing to work in the Ags department as a research assistant.

Being the child of one of the scientists, and an immune resident to boot, she was never at risk of ending up with the life of a grunt.

On the other hand, I started out in the mud homes outside The Facility.

Both my parents were grunts working with the livestock outside.

I didn’t lose my parents to the virus. Dad had an infection in his tooth that couldn’t get treated properly.

They never actually told me what the cause of Mum’s death was.

She just got sick and never got better. Towards the end, I couldn’t stay with her anymore and I was moved into the main building with the other orphaned kids.

Matty grew up in the family pods inside the main building. His mum was a guard before she retired and his dad worked as a maintenance grunt in the main building. Both his parents turned when he was in his teens.

We met at school. All kids in The Facility are required to go to school until they are ten.

Those who have the skill for it stay on, to be able to specialise into different skills or enter an apprenticeship with the craftsmen.

As a kid, I thought it was a big waste of my time, not being helpful.

Now that I’m older, I understand it’s actually to keep kids out from underfoot of the grunts while they work.

I’ll never forget the first day, when Jessica came up to me.

I was crying in the corner. I’d only just moved to the main building, and I was scared from so many big changes in my life.

Jessica sat down next to me, pulled me into a hug and refused to leave me alone unless she had to.

That’s when she roped Matty into watching me.

It’s been the three of us ever since. Well, now it’s more Jessica and Matty, plus me, but that’s never bothered any of us.

I can usually find company if I need it.

Pointedly ignoring my friend, I consider my options for breakfast. Every day, three times a day, meals are laid out in the long bays of warmers. On any given day, there aren’t too many options, but the kitchen grunts always seem to be able to feed us all with what little they have.

Today there are eggs of different varieties, and bread made of seeds and nuts foraged from native plants to stretch the wheat we have, a stew made from kangaroo—I’m pretty sure it’s roo today, I’ve learnt to not actually ask questions—and veg from the Ags.

I grab a little bit of everything, along with a glass of camel milk and a cup of tea.

Jessica is significantly slower than I am picking out her food. I’m ready to go find us a table, and she’s still standing there, her empty tray clutched tightly in her hands and an unfamiliar frown on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when the grunt behind the warmers stares her down impatiently.

Jessica tugs at her dark curls, her distress growing by the second. “I don’t know what I wanna eat.”

She looks just as confused as I feel—she almost looks like she’s about to burst into tears.

We’re about to get angrily booted from the food line, so I quickly fill Jessica’s tray for her and nudge her from the line. It’s a juggle with the two trays filled with food and drinks and my stack of papers but I manage to get us over to a free table.

“Hey fellas. Eli, you got that picture for me?” Our arses barely hit the chairs before Felix appears. Sparing a quick smile to Jessica, who pushes the eggs around her plate with a mild look of disgust, I shuffle through the papers until I find the one he’s after.

It’s a portrait of his younger brother, who was recently sent below. A birthday gift for his sister-in-law, who’s been struggling with the loss of her husband.

It’s something I do a lot of—drawing portraits of the people we’ve lost. The first time I picked up a pencil at school, something clicked inside me. It felt like an extension of my brain and I’ve worked hard to develop my skills. Not just because I love it, but for moments like this.

“Here it is.” I hand the sheet to Felix. It’s a little smudged, but that can’t always be helped with charcoal, and it’s still a good likeness of Kelly, even if I say so myself.

“This is… fuck, mate. This’s incredible. Thank you .” Felix’s eyes turn glassy the longer he looks at the picture. I shovel a mouthful of my cooling eggs in my mouth to give him a moment of privacy.

“What do I owe ya?” Felix’s voice is hoarse with emotion.

“Nothin’.” I probably should trade him for something—after all, paper is hard to come by for recreational purposes—I just can’t bring myself to do it. I knew Kelly. He’s a couple of years younger than me, but we went to school together. We were friendly even.

It always hits different when it’s someone you know that gets sent down. And it’s even worse when they’re young like Kelly is. His life was just starting, and now it’s over.

“You can’t do that, what about—”

Whatever Felix was about to suggest is lost when we’re interrupted by another one of my customers, one hunting for something a little less sweet and heartwarming than what Felix was after.

It’s not exactly a specialty, but there came a point when I realised that people will trade well for dirty drawings, and it’s kept me solidly in business ever since.

By the time I’ve finished my food, the stack of papers is pretty much gone, and I’ve got a list of new requests.

I’ve even scored myself a date to the fire pit night on the weekend.

Fire pit nights are held once a month just outside the walls.

It’s where the residents get together to socialise and unwind together.

And this time, I’m going with Daniel. The guard seemed especially excited that I agreed to go with him.

“That’s goin’ to end terribly.” Jessica says, after Daniel leaves and I hand over my last drawing—a headless portrait of a naked woman playing with her nipples with her legs splayed wide, traded for a small jar of honey.

“Probably, but I’m not goin’ to borrow trouble. Plus, he’s cute.”

Jessica snorts and continues to push her food around on her tray. We’ve never exactly seen eye to eye on what ‘cute’ is in a guy.

“What’s goin’ on with you anyway?” I ask, pointing my fork in the direction of the mess she’s made of her meal.

Now the art’s gone, no one is paying attention to us anymore. Well, one person is. But I’m well practiced in ignoring him.

Jessica shoves her tray away, and without the food in front of her she looks immediately happier. She leans forward, nodding for me to come closer, too.

We meet in the middle of the table, our foreheads pressed together.

“I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.” Her whisper is so low, I almost don’t hear it.

I’m less subtle than her, and she whacks my hand when my gasp is loud enough to attract some attention.

I knew they were trying for a baby—and considering they are both immune, their baby will be an ever greater blessing.

Immune mothers-to-be are given the best care out of all the residents here.

Even immune grunts are removed from duties and housed in the special pregnancy residential units to receive round-the-clock care.

“That’s incredible! I can’t believe—”

Jessica’s hand slaps over my mouth.

“I know! But just keep it on the quiet. I need to tell Matty. I’m going to tell him tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll see the docs.”

“My lips are sealed.” I promise when she removes her hand.

The bell rings again, indicating the start of the next shift.

“Well, that’s our sign. Better get to it. Might be my last day, after all.” Jessica laughs again as she stands, wiggling in a dancing sort of motion as she tidies her still full tray.

“Maybe I should find a nice guy to get me pregnant, too.” I sigh dreamily, carrying both our trays to the trolleys for clean up. “I’d be a medical marvel. Then we could spend the next few months lazing around together in the maternity suites while the grunts take care of our every need.”

The ridiculous fantasy has us both falling together in peals of laughter.

It’s almost enough to make me forget about the dark, almost black eyes burning a hole in my shoulder.

It’s not nearly enough, though, to not notice how those dark eyes are almost identical to the ones of the sweet baby in my daydream.