Bird Box

twenty

It is noon the next day. Tom and Jules have not returned.

Tom’s twelve hours have been more than doubled. And with each one, the emotions within the house grow darker.

Victor still sits by the blanketed window.

The housemates were up late, gathered together, waiting for the dog to stop barking.

They’ll eventually get us, Don said. There’s no reason to think otherwise. It’s end times, people. And if it’s a matter of a creature our brains are incapable of comprehending, then we deserve it. I always assumed the end would come because of our own stupidity.

Eventually, Victor did stop barking.

Now, in the kitchen, Malorie dunks her hands in a bucket of water. Don and Cheryl went to the well this morning. Each time they knocked to present Felix with a new bucketful, Malorie’s heart leapt, hoping, believing it was Tom.

She brings the water to her face and runs her wet fingers through her matted, sweaty hair.

“Goddamn it,” she says.

She is alone in the kitchen. She is staring at the drapes that cover the room’s one window. She is thinking of all the infinite terrible things that could’ve happened.

Jules killed Tom. He saw a creature and dragged Tom to the river by his hair. He held him underwater till he drowned. Or they both saw something. In a house. They destroyed each other. Their ruined bodies lie on the floor in a stranger’s den. Or only Tom saw something. Jules tried to stop him, but Tom got away. He’s in the woods somewhere. Eating bugs. Eating bark. Eating his own tongue.

“Malorie?”

Malorie jumps as Olympia enters the kitchen.

“What?”

“I’m really worried, Malorie. He said twelve hours.”

“I know,” Malorie says. “We all are.”

Malorie reaches out to put her hand on Olympia’s shoulder and hears Don’s voice from the dining room.

“I’m not convinced we should let them back in.”

Malorie quickly goes to the dining room.

“Come on, Don,” Felix, already in there, says. “How can you mean that?”

“What do you think is going on out there, Felix? You think it’s a nice neighborhood we’re living in? If anybody’s alive out there, they’re not surviving on manners, man. Who’s to say Tom and Jules weren’t kidnapped? They could be hostages right now. And their fucking captors could be asking about our food. Our food.”

“Fuck you, Don,” Felix says. “If they come back, I’m letting them in.”

“If it’s them,” Don says. “And if we’re sure there’s not a gun to Tom’s head on the other side of the door.”

“Will you two shut up!” Cheryl says, passing Malorie and entering the dining room.

“You can’t be serious, Don,” Malorie says.

Don turns toward her.

“You’re damn right I’m serious.”

“You don’t want to let them back in?” Olympia asks, standing beside Malorie now.

“I didn’t say that,” Don snaps. “I’m saying there could be bad people out there. Do you understand that, Olympia? Or is that too complicated for you?”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Malorie says.

For a second, it looks like Don might come at her.

“I don’t want to have this discussion,” Cheryl says.

“It’s been over twenty-four hours,” Don says chidingly.

“Just… go do something else for a minute, will you?” Felix says. “You’re making this worse for everybody.”

“We need to start considering a future without them.”

“It’s been a day,” Felix says.

“Yeah, a day out there.”

Don sits at the piano. He looks like he might relent, for a moment. Then he continues.

“The good news is that our stock will last longer.”

“Don!” Malorie snaps.

“You have a baby coming, Malorie. Don’t you hope to survive?”

“Don, I could kill you,” Cheryl says.

Don gets up from the piano bench. His face is red with anger.

“Tom and Jules aren’t coming back, Cheryl. Accept it. And when you live an extra week because you were able to eat their share of the food and then you were able to eat Victor, too, then maybe you’ll understand that there’s no such thing anymore as hope.”

Cheryl steps toward him. Her hands are in fists. Her face is inches from Don’s.

Victor barks from the living room.

Felix gets between Don and Cheryl. Don shoves him away. As Malorie steps toward them, Felix’s hand is raised.

He is going to strike Don.

He brings his fist back.

There is a knock at the front door.