Man Hunt (11 page)

Doov took Obe to a back corner of the alley and offered him a plastic crate to sit on. With the bottoms of his feet still yelling at him, the walk there and even the act of sitting down was a delicate procedure.

Thank God I have sneakers now,
he told himself.

Doov waited, watching as the rest of the men in the alley grudgingly moved back to former locales and conversations. When he was satisfied he had some privacy, he nodded, took and let out a quick breath, and nodded again while looking Obe in the eyes.

"My name is Doov, as I've already said. That's spelled D.O.O.V. It's my job to officially congratulate you on making it to the blue stage and to welcome you to our family."

"Thanks," Obe said.

"Welcome," he said. "Well, let's see. You've been here about a week already, so I'm sure you've been picking some things up. Have you heard about the family yet?"

"No," Obe said. "I've seen a few other Blues around, but today is the first I've talked to anybody."

"Well, there's a lot to learn. We're different from green life. Much different. The Family of Blue, as we call it, is just that: a family. We are all part of the same team. We'll support you when you're down, we'll celebrate with you when you succeed, and we'll mourn you when you're gone." Obe nodded, but not without a lump in his throat. Death was everywhere. And yet, Obe liked that this man was honest. Even better, he realized that there was a real chance of making friends here. In green sector men pretty much stuck to themselves, keeping relationships and conversations to an absolute minimum. This 'family' intrigued him.

"For example," Doov went on, "if there is news about a car, we share it. Every time. No every-man-for-himself bullshit like in green sector. That comes in handy, as I'm sure you can imagine." Obe nodded a little excitedly. "There are other, less
needed
favors you could attain– I won't waste time explaining. You'll figure them out for yourself– but other than reports of nearby cars, all favors incur a repayment, usually with food. I'd recommend not racking up too many favors early on, though if you need them, they are and will remain available from just about every man."

Obe nodded slower now. He was wondering just what kind of favors Doov was hinting at. But as instructed, he pushed it off for later. He could find out when the time came.

"We have some rules to help set things straight and keep everything running smoothly," Doov continued. "Some are written, and others like the favors you'll simply have to learn on your own, I'm afraid. A lot of what goes on here is based on what you can earn."

Obe nodded again. "Ok," he said. "I get it. I like that. Go on."

"Great! On to the written rules, then. There are three. Rule number one is Respect Your Elders. Remember that word. It's our first rule because it's our most important rule. What it means is that anyone older than you in the Family is better than you, whether you like it or not, and you have a duty to respect what they've been through." Here he paused dramatically, then added, "How old are you, Obe?"

Obe was caught unprepared by the question, but answered anyway. "I… I don't know exactly. I… well, I was in college when they brought me here, so at least seventeen, I guess. Could be twenty or twenty-one, I suppose, but who knows, right? Swiss cheese." The term was a common one among Greens which he was sure Doov would know. It referred to the gaping holes in memory they all shared.

"One," Doov said confidently. "That's how old you are. Exactly one run old. Nobody cares about birthdays here, I'm sorry to say. Age is measured in successful escapes from the women. It's the only thing that truly matters anymore."

"I've survived plenty more than one run!" Obe huffed. "I've been running from those damned cars for three months now!" He felt he was trying too hard to impress this man, but couldn't help himself.

"Of course you have, or you wouldn't be here," Doov acknowledged. "But time as a green doesn't count. Not here. We only count blue runs here, and you're brand new." He paused and watched Obe understand just how low on the totem pole he was.

Here Doov chuckled. "Don't feel so bad, newbie," he added. "Some guys take two weeks to verify their first run. You've done it without even being properly introduced. And that first run of yours sure will be memorable, won't it?"

Obe smiled then loosened again. He pressed his fingers against the form of the sneakers through his jumpsuit and thought of the car backing out of the alley like a dog with its tail between its legs. However guilty he was of scaring his new neighbors, he had flustered the women too, and everyone had seen it.

"If someone's survived more runs than you, then they are older than you. Respect that. I won't say it again. You're just a babe at one run, but soon enough, if you're any good as a man, there'll be newer blues with even fewer runs and then you'll be respected by them. Life here requires a lot of patience, too. Baj is the man who will both verify your run story and mark you if he believes you're not spinning yarns. He's good, so don't try to fool him. The fastest way to lose all of your earned respect is to be caught inflating your age."

Obe nodded again, instinctively keeping his mouth shut.

"Ok. Rule number two, then. Don't Concern Yourself With the Dead. Whenever a family member is killed, we all mourn together at the next meeting. Sometimes we'll have two or three funerals at a time. It's serious business, but once it's done don't concern yourself. There's a time and place, and outside of that you're only asking for trouble. Don't get too close to any man is what I'm saying. Too many of us get killed too often. You follow?"

Obe nodded, and Doov moved on.

"Rule three. And this is sometimes the hardest one to remember. What Happens in the Alley
Stays
in the Alley. We've tried organizing the handing out of food like the women do in green sector, but it never works. As much as I envy it, I'll never have the power that the women have. Somebody always cheats, and it's never just one man. I guess its only natural considering our situation. So we did away with organizing grocery day and just let it happen the way it needs to happen. But no matter what
does
happen, everyone is friends again outside the alley. That's tough sometimes, I know. I myself have had to suppress many grudges. But we are a family and the family always comes first. It just works out that in this alley when the food comes down, you're on your own.

Here Doov paused, seeming to think, but he said no more about rule three.

"Now, repeat those three rules back to me so I know you're ok with all this."

Obe felt the child again, but did as he was bidden. "Rule one: Respect men older than me. Age is determined by runs. Rule two: Don't concern yourself with the dead. We all mourn together and getting too close can be dangerous. Rule three: What happens in the alley
stays
in the alley. It's every man for himself to get food, but afterwards we're all friends again."

"Excellent! You listen well. Ok. There's just one other thing, then. Elders."

"Elders?"

"There are three of us right now. Myself, Leet, and Paist. I'm the oldest. Though Leet has been here longer, I've always had more runs. I've got 126. Leet will probably be the next one taken away from us and dumped in the black sector. The women count days it seems, not runs, when they transfer a man. Paist and Leet both have over a hundred runs, too. That's how you become an elder. We had five elders some months ago, but both of the oldest were killed in the same week. It was a real tragedy, a blow to us all."

Here Doov dropped his voice to a whisper, though Obe couldn't imagine who he was hiding any secret from. "
We think the women looked for them specifically because they couldn't clear a hole in black sector.
"

Obe was honestly surprised. "
Really?"
he asked in a return whisper.
"They can…
do
that?
" All men had their rules, but the women had theirs as well, and from his experience they had never been anything but totally honest. Killing a man in blue sector because they couldn't kill or release a man in black sector was completely against their reformation program.

"My friend, those bitches can do anything they want. They moved one other elder to black sector shortly after that, so we were left with only two for a while. That's when I took over as head elder. Paist became our newest elder just last month, and here we stand.

"As for what we elders do… well, we're like a president, I guess. We stand as mentors and symbols, representatives for everyone else. Temporary figureheads who, in each his own way, tries to help those behind him while awaiting his own next great step or demise." Doov stopped, and a crooked smile came over his face that Obe immediately liked. Doov was cognizant of his own vulnerability, and that made him a good leader. "Any questions?" he finally asked. Obe shook his head. "Ok then. Go see Baj so you can mark your first run. Find a man named Rein to take you through the process."

And though Obe hadn't spoken more than a handful of words, the meeting was suddenly over, and he was once again on his own.

"Are you right-handed or left-handed, O.B.E. Obe?" asked the man named Rein.

Obe had found him easily enough, though he could barely do more than hobble around the dead-end alley on his torn feet. It seemed the others were more than willing to help him, and spotting the man described as 'tall with the blackest hair you've ever seen' had been surprisingly easy. Though there was one other man with black hair who was also exceptionally tall and so thin his cheek bones stuck out like a skeleton's–
an emaciated bear standing on its hindquarters,
Obe had thought when first seeing him– only one tall man had the greasy shanks of flowing jet-black hair that only a hippie could love. 

"Right-handed," Obe said.

"Baj!" Rein yelled into the crowd of blue men. A head popped up and Rein waved the man over. "Not much of a beard, I see." Rein said. Obe did not respond. He simply eyed Rein as Baj came slowly closer. "Baj, this is Obe," Rein said when he had arrived. "Obe, this is Baj. That's B.A.J."

"Hiyuh," Baj said.

"Ok, newbie. Here's the deal," Rein said. "Baj here is the keeper and detector of all things RUN. When you escape the women's grasp, tell the story to others if you like, or if you think they'll listen, but Baj
needs
to hear it. He's sort of the newshound on behalf of the elders. They rely on his information, and he relies on all of us. When and if Baj is ever taken from us, I'm his apprentice, you understand?" Obe nodded.

There was a pause as Rein reeled in Obe's undivided attention. When he had it, he said, "
Don't fuckin' lie
about a run. It's disrespectful and a mockery to The Family. Earn your runs. Get them marked. But don't go looking for 'em, either, hear? Some guys always think they can climb the ladder faster by taunting the women. Don't be a dumbass, alright? Just survive. Do that and your numbers will come."

Obe was nodding, but it was a distracted move. He was watching Baj fiddling with what looked like a small piece of metal. Obe didn't think he'd ever seen handworked metal anywhere on the island.

Suddenly Rein's strong hand was gripping Obe's left wrist and had shoved the sleeve of his jumpsuit up past the elbow. Angrily, Obe looked up at Rein to protest, but managed to quell his tongue.

"We have little left from our old lives that is still our own," Rein said. "So we've created our own way of doing things. When you survive a run, it's a victory for all of us. It's a mark of honor, and we count them. Baj is going to make a short, clean cut on the inside of your forearm, and it's your job not to flinch. If you do, the scar won't look right. Everyone here does it. You can fight if you like, but I'll just get some others to help me hold you down. It's been done before. It'll be done again. But it's much more honorable if you can promise me you won't flinch. You do that, and I'll let go and see how you do on your own."

Obe stared at Baj, who was waiting patiently with the thin blade poised in his fingers. He looked back to Rein and saw the strength, the sureness, in his eyes. He looked around at the other men in blue in the alley. None of them were particularly paying attention, but several here and there seemed to know what was going on. "Let me see your scars," he told Rein.

"I will, if you really want me to," Rein said. "But understand it's less honorable that way. I advise you to trust me and let Baj mark your first run."

Obe thought of his brother.
What else will I have to go through to get home to him?
he thought.
First torture, then hunted, and now blood-letting?
He wondered if these men were the survivors they appeared to be or merely fraternity brothers enjoying their hazing ritual? As always, his brother's face eluded him, but Obe was no fool. He had already decided. "Let go, Rein," he said. "You can cut me, Baj. I won't flinch."

Rein's hands released their firm grip, leaving cooling white handprints behind. Obe held the sleeve away from the elbow, and Baj lowered the hand-made blade to his skin. It was a thing bent off some larger, unknown metal sheet. Then Baj pulled the flesh taut and sliced. The cut itself was quick and the pain was sharp but brief. Obe had told himself he wouldn't wince, but he hadn't been able to do this. He looked up, but neither Rein nor Baj seemed to notice. Blood was seeping from the wound now.

"It's your first one," Rein said, smiling. "Do you want to suck it?" Obe didn't blink. He lowered his head and tasted the hot copper fluid rush into his mouth. After a few seconds, Baj asked to see it. Obe obeyed, and Baj examined the cut expertly in seconds.

"One more," he said.

"What?" Obe asked, and couldn't help pulling his arm back defensively.

"It takes both width and depth to make a good scar," Baj said. "I'm good, but it sometimes takes three or four before I'm satisfied."

Patience,
Obe thought.
Baj is a man of great patience. And Rein is proud. Maybe too proud. I wonder how much he wants to become an elder?
Blood was seeping from the wound again. Baj pawed it away, and Obe winced again. Baj lowered the razor and positioned it a hair to the side of the fresh cut. Obe closed his lips and watched the second slice– a slower, more deliberate one– come. Obe swore aloud, and at this a few men in the alley turned their heads to look.

"'At'll do," Baj said in a deliberate, clean drawl. He smiled and looked at Rein. "Not bad I guess. Could live without the profanity, though." And then Baj was gone, walking back toward the other side of the alley. 

As Obe palmed the wound with his right hand, Rein gave further instructions. "Be sure to pick the scab every chance you get. That's the key ingredient. Otherwise it won't scar. Do it yourself or Baj will do it for you, and," here Rein chuckled, "trust me. You don't want him to.

"Keep running well," Rein continued, "and soon enough you'll be well on your way to gaining some real respect. Welcome aboard, Obe." He slapped Obe on the back and smiled, his experienced eyes brightening. Obe smirked back. Rein was a tad harsh, but appeared genuine. "Now if you'll pardon me, I must talk with some people."

As Rein stood to leave, Obe grabbed his wrist and tried hard to show there was strength in his own grip. "Show me," he said. As much as he'd been tested, Obe had a test of his own to administer. Rein's professionalism finally broke, and he gleamed a wide, proud smile. He pushed up his own left sleeve and exposed a forearm covered with one-inch scars. Obe was surprised despite what he had expected. He looked closer and saw two open slices where scabs had recently been trying desperately, and in vain, to heal the skin.

"Sixty-one," Rein said simply. His eyes seemed to twinkle before he disappeared into the masses of blue jumpsuits.

4

In Rein's absence, Obe was finally approached by several curious men, all of whom threw their names at him, shook his hand, and wanted a more personal account of the women's retreat. Soon a small band had surrounded him, and he was telling the story for the third time. One man, Leb, was quieter than the rest yet still maintained the order of the group. He had a mop of long blonde hair that looked familiar. Obe thought he remembered him from green sector. In fact, he was pretty sure this man had given him a few running tips back when he had been newly released from the fortress.

"Hold on a moment," Leb said when two more men popped over and asked for the story. "Let the man catch his breath and a larger crowd to gather. No sense in making him tell it a dozen times if he doesn't have to."

Obe ended up telling his story only six times in total, but was still overwhelmed and slightly annoyed before it was over. When the last small crowd finally dissipated, Leb alone remained behind, and Obe blissfully sat on the ground to relieve his battered feet from the pressure of standing. He was also happy to finally feel like he had someone at his own level to talk to. Obe had noticed that many men wore their sleeves rolled up and he'd been sneaking peeks at everyone's forearms. Leb had just fifteen scars. He wasn't much older than Obe, in the eyes of The Family.

"So, Leb," Obe broached into the relative silence as Leb pushed a swath of blonde hair out of his eyes. "I think I remember you from green sector. Taught me a couple of moves my first week out. Never got the chance to thank you. Any new words of advice you can give me now?"

Leb sat down beside him on the old, cracked asphalt. "I was wondering if you'd remember that," he said with a smile. "It's good to see you alive. Hell yeah I can advise you. Lots of things. Most will cost you some food. It's how things run here, but some are free. One should be obvious, though, don't you think?"

Obe shook his head, surprised there
could
be something obvious to others in such a short amount of time.

"Your sneakers, Obe," Leb said. "I don't know if you saw it, but I spotted more than one green-eyed monster on people's faces when you pulled that beauty out. They're jealous. Here, let me show you what I mean." Leb snuck a hand inside his own blue jumpsuit and pulled out a battered, old, blue sneaker. The sole was half unglued, the thing looked naked without the laces, and the front was an open cavity like a sandal. Obe realized this was to allow a longer foot to slide through.

"These are the kinds of sneakers most of us live with, if we have 'em. I almost lost these a few times, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Most important is to sleep with them inside your jumpsuit and down where your balls should be. And I only put them on when I hear the car nearby. I suggest you sleep with those gorgeous things of yours tucked inside your
ass
if you can manage it."

Obe laughed. Leb did not. "I mean it," he said. "I guarantee
somebody
will be trying to get at them soon. Probably tonight." He paused to look at his own sneakers with fondness in his eyes. "These babies might be on their last legs, but they fit, and they've never failed me."

"I've never seen a blue pair," Obe said. "How did you get them?"

"Stole them, of course. Word has it they used to show up in our grocery bags every so often. Sort of like a cracker jack prize, but I've never seen it happen. These babies are here, though, so it must be true. They've probably been stolen from one man to another ever since this whole thing started. Baj has a pair. So do a few of the others. Everyone else goes across the line at night and takes a green pair when they can't deal with runnin' barefoot no more. Got mine from a guy who was on his way out. Would never make elder. Just kept getting slower by the week. Lots of people noticed, but I was the one to notice first. I'm observant, if nothing else. By the looks of your feet, you got those treasures of yours just in time."

Obe looked again to his raw, bloodied feet. He lifted each one up tenderly to examine the fresh shredding. Long, deep cuts ran down the lengths of both. The heels, of course, were particularly mangled. Dozens of tiny stones were stuck in the open, glistening wounds. Looking at them closer, Obe marveled again that he'd been able to bear the pain. A year ago– or had it been two since he'd been brought to the island?– he probably wouldn't have been able to remain conscious from such injuries.

Leb whistled sympathetically as Obe began to carefully pick the stones free. As he operated, he could suddenly feel each individual cut, each separate abrasion. Every touch sent a tiny bolt of lightning from deep within his heels, and he summoned his training from the torture rooms to suppress the fiery pain. On his right foot, the big toe with the ripped nail throbbed. There was also a long black smear of the dumpster ooze across his fourth and fifth toes. He wiped at it with a thumb but it only smeared further and did not come off. An offensive, fresh odor attacked the nearby air with its release.

Obe realized the only way to clean it was with water. "So, there's a rumor in green sector that you guys have a freshwater stream," he said. "Lots of guys here look really clean, so it must be true. It's nice to know. I would have thought we'd be dirtier at a higher stage."

"You're observant," Leb said. "The elders promote cleanings at least once a week. It helps keep things civilized, and that's tough with all the damned… well, it's tough." Obe looked into Leb's squinted eyes, trying to decipher what he hadn't quite said, but it was useless.

"Yes, there's a stream that runs through our sector. You want to be careful every time you go there, though. It's basically a trap waiting to be sprung."

"Of course," Obe sighed. "There's no such thing as a free lunch, right?"

"You got that right."

"Can you show me where it is?"

"If you want me to."

Of course I want you to,
Obe thought. But then he realized Leb was allowing him the option of finding it on his own, which was, of course, the more 'honorable' choice. "I'll see if I can find it on my own," he said.

"Good man," Leb said. "I think you'll do fine here."

Obe faked another smile but groaned inside.
Food isn't going to be the only test in blue sector,
he thought.
Were the women lying, or do they not know what really goes on here?
He thought about this for only a moment before realizing how ridiculous the notion was. Of course the women knew. They knew everything.
They keep the test in black sector hidden,
he realized,
and it seems they keep part of the blue test hidden too. That's all.