Siamese Man

   What’s the one thing we all take for granted? Salt. You know those people who try to go on low sodium diets, and one day they’ve gone too long without tasting anything, so they cave and spend their retirement funds on McDonalds fries? But there were no more McDonalds, because the world was trying to recover from a nuclear war that decimated the planet. So where the hell was I going to get my seasoning?

   “Can’t I just drink some ocean water with my food?”

   “Sure. If you want to grow a third arm from the leftover uranium. Knock yourself out,” my older sister, Minty, answers, opening a can of peaches, guzzling the sweet fruit and smacking her lips.

“Oh no, I’m good. Thanks for asking,” I tell Minty as she licks away our dessert that dribbles down her lip. She responds to my quip by swiping her finger on the bottom of the can and sucking the syrup into her mouth.

“Did you even think about me while you were consuming our Vitamin C for the day? What if I die from scurvy?” I ask, touching my tongue to my gums for signs of bleeding. Cuts during fallout equals cancer, or some other painful form of death. After surviving for so long, dying now would be like running a marathon and five feet from the finish line, you trip on air and crack open your skull.

“Death by dehydration is much more likely since you’re considering drinking ocean water. How can you waste energy looking for flavorful food in a radioactive wasteland? Where are your priorities, Lydia?”

“Maybe you ate them.” When Minty rolls her eyes at me, I add, “You’re getting kind of pudgy, you know. Might want to cut back on the carbs. Keto did wonders for Nancy. I mean, until she ended up in blast radius. Fastest way to burn fat, though, let me tell you.”

“How do you completely lack situational awareness?” Minty sounds mildly disturbed.

“The aristocratic ladies handbook didn’t cover how to read a room. But I can say an alphabet of designer brands.” I clear my throat and sit up straight. “Alexander McQueen, Balenciaga, Chanel, Dior, Eres…” I count off on my fingers, but Minty interrupts me.

“So, you’re useless in the real world?”

“Until a few months ago, the real world was ballgowns and someone putting a ring on it.” I sigh in the direction of my empty ring finger. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t a rebel who insisted on forging her own path on the dead bodies of our parent’s respect and refusing all money just because she had a crush on a poor boy.”

“The poor boy put a ring on it. So, I won.” She holds up her ring finger with the pitifully small diamond. From three feet away it doesn’t even look like a diamond. It just blends into her skin. What if a guy hits on her?

“I saw you from across the bar. You looked smokin’. Wanna get out of here?”

“Sorry. I’m married.” Holds up her left hand

“Playing hard to get, huh? Don’t you worry. I’m persistent.”

“I’m serious. I’m married. Look, ring.” Points to her ring finger.

“Do you want me to call the uber, or will you?”

“I’ve been married for three years.”

“Hope you like eggs. That’s the only thing in my fridge.” 

“I have two kids.”

“I’ve got a thing for brunettes, you know.”

“I’m actually pregnant right now.”

“Oh, I get it now.”

“Thank god.” Exhales an exhausted breath.

“Winter weight is completely normal. Happens to the best of us.”

“Oh, for the love of...”

I shake my head, “He’ll end up convincing you that you’re not married.”

“Huh?” Minty tilts her head.

“Never mind.” I hop off the stool and pull open the mahogany wardrobe with Minty and my hazmat suits. I toss one to Minty and I grab the second one.

“Change now. We’re going out in 10 minutes.” Minty’s voice trails behind me as I walk to the bathroom. This is the first time we’re leaving the bunker since the blast, for a quick reconnaissance mission. The bunker is a hundred meters below ground, and it’s stocked for years with fresh water, canned food, oxygen, and entertainment. Our parents were the paranoid type who always thought the Earth was going to be overrun by aliens, or one morning there’ll be a black hole outside our house, so they had a plan for every possible disaster.  

Hurricane? Bulletproof basement.

Tsunami? Skyscraper made of concrete.

Nuclear Bombing? Underground bunker.

Alien Invasion? Personal space station.

I change in the large bathroom and I return to the living room, clad in my disgustingly brown jumpsuit. Just as I turn the corner, I’m stopped in my tracks, and I grab the counter top for stability.

“Araminta Cassandra Cleremont! What in God’s name are you doing?”

Minty turns around, raising an eyebrow as she mercilessly wrestles her curly hair into a reluctant bun, then forces the mess into her hazmat helmet. I take deep breaths and bring my hands together in prayer.

“In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit, please save Minty from eternal damnation. She’s naive, ignorant, just a wide-eyed child. She probably uses cheap shampoo and forgets,” I swallow the lump in my throat, “leave-in conditioner.” 

“For God’s sake, Lyds.” Minty presses the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

“Minty, please. If you care about my sanity. Don’t yank that rat's nest on your head.” I turn to the heavens, “Amen.”

Minty opens the door and points up the stairs, “Out.”

“Touchy, touchy,” I say and Minty slams the door behind her, muttering to herself while we walk upstairs, where the outside world waits. Minty and I were estranged ever since she eloped with Daniel, until one day she appeared at our parent’s house demanding we let her back in. It was a tense meeting, followed by a silent dinner, wrapped up by a strained stroll around the house. While walking, we both looked outside, saw a bright flash of light and a mushroom cloud, ran to the bunker, and locked it moments before the blast hit us.

And you thought your family reunions were awkward. Can you imagine Thanksgiving?

I open the door at the top of the stairs. Minty sticks her head out first, looking side to side rapidly. I push her and she trips on a step, scrambling to get up, and fixing her hazmat suit. She gives me a glare.

“Oops,” I say blandly, following Minty out.

It’s July, but my first thought is I’m in the Arctic. I rub my gloved hands on the outside of my suit. I try to breathe into my hands to warm them up, but my mask covers my face, so I just press my hands to the plastic and breathe, moving my head side to side, like an oscillating fan. Minty grabs my hands and holds them to my side.

“Stop goofing off. Come.”

I follow Minty as we walk the ashy ground. I step around broken pieces of cement, and kick the wood that’s burnt till crispy. The sky is overcast with clouds for days, the sun barely peeking out of the thick plume. There’s not a person around, not a sudden movement, and not a sound except for the heavy breathing in my mask.

“I feel like we’re in a movie. Any moment now some mutant monster will appear.” I turn around and yell, “Come and get us! We’re plump and ripe for eating. At least Minty is.” Minty taps my shoulder urgently, but I shrug her hand away and cup my hands around my mask. “Hello?! Delicious humans, eat one, take the other to go.” Minty tries to shake me to face her, her breathing erratic, but I push her away, my back still to hers. I’m sure she’s just trying to tell me to stop being a child. “We’re basically Maggianno’s. Minus the seasoning. But, come on. You try finding oregano in this dump.” I kick a piece of burnt t-shirt. Minty then roughly grabs me, and I unwillingly face her, massaging where her hand was.

“What the hell, Mint? All this unnecessary stress is just going to send you to an early grave. Or a plastic surgeon. You might want to consider Botox. Will Daniel still want you after he sees those frown lines?” Sometimes I worry about Minty, but she doesn’t respond to my concern. Instead, Minty’s eyes are wide in front of her, and she’s practically hyperventilating, and I turn around fully. 

I count. Seven arms. Two faces. At least ten feet tall. Two legs (fine. Nothing’s weird about that. Just worth mentioning). Burned-off eyes, leaving only the empty sockets. Large, flared nostrils. Tongues out, panting like a Siamese dog waiting for its meal. Bald, gray skin that I’m unsure is due to ash or something else.

“Speak of the devil,” I say, and the creature springs into action.

It moves to grab Minty since she’s closer, but I snatch her out of her shock and we start running to the crumbling concrete building. It follows, our adrenaline barely keeping us out of reach of the massive mutant. We reach the building floor, and both of us turn a hallway and duck under some cubicles.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh. My. God. Did you see that?” Minty shakes me, her body trembling.

“Unlike whatever that was, I still have my eyes, so yes. Yes, I did.” In the background, I hear heavy footsteps and rows of charred desks being knocked over. I drag Minty as we duck below the walls and run as quietly as possible to a new hallway.

“How are you so calm?” Minty asks.

“Aristocratic ladies handbook. When under stress, look on the bright side,” I answer.

“What’s the bright side?” 

“I can run faster than you.”

“What?!” Minty squeals, and we see the creature’s ears perk up. It turns our way, striding with purpose.

“I swear, Mint. Our lives depend on you being able to take a joke.” I hold Minty’s hand and we race down the dark path, not being able to see the end. Turning around is a big mistake, and I see the creature with a frothy mouth clumsily run for us, its dribble lubricating the floors.

I trip on a rock, but while Minty helps pull me up, I see the creature come closer and closer, with no way of stopping it from its collision course. I pick up the rock and throw it to the other wall, where it echoes and before clattering to the ground. The creature stops, a few feet away from us, our breaths held. It moves in the direction of the rock and gropes around until it decides on going straight ahead. Minty and I see it disappear and we both release a pent up breath, crashing to the floor and calming our heart rate.

“Where did that thing come from?” Minty looks into the dingy distance.

“You see, Minty. When a man and woman really love each other…” I start but I’m interrupted, yet again.

“Can you just shut up for once in your life, Lydia? You know nothing. You’re just a spoiled rich girl. You’ve never been independent. You don’t know how life works. You’re barely equipped to handle day-to-day activities, and now you’ve been thrust into this.” She spreads her arms out.

“I’m sorry, but who just saved you from being eaten by an adult conjoined twin? This spoiled rich girl. And don’t forget, you were once me, too. You had everything and everyone at your beck and call, and you don’t get to judge me just because I liked my life and you decided a boy was worth more!” I don’t even realize I’m yelling until I’m done. 

“Yes, I do, Lyds. You can’t treat life like it’s a joke, especially if we’re dealing with creepy giants that are looking at us like we’re a bag of potato chips!”

“Damn you! Now I want a bag of chips!”

“Well then, it’s too bad we’re in the middle of an apocalypse running from a mutant!”

I slap a wall in frustration, and it crumbles a little beneath my fingers. I step back from Minty and take a few cleansing breaths. I turn back towards her and give her my politest smile.

“Shall we go, Araminta? It’s getting quite late.” I turn around and start walking away from Minty until I hear an audible crack. It’s followed by several more cracks, and I look back to see the ground split in half, Minty on one side, me on the other. Minty blanches.

“Don’t worry. Just cross over. Everything’s going to be fine.” Just as I finish soothing Minty, the walls fall inwards, until I can’t see her anymore.

“Scratch that. We may be screwed.” I hear a loud sob, but it’s quickly drowned out by the sound of panting and heavy steps coming from the other side of the walls.

I lean into the wall and face the hallway.

“Minty?” I whisper. A soft cry is my answer, and the footsteps become louder.

“When I yell, you’re going to run down the hall, as fast as you can,” I say.

“What about you?” A sniffle from Minty, and a loud lick from the creature.

“I’m safe behind the debris. You just run. I’ll catch up. Got it?”

“Mm hm.”

“Okay. Quiet until then. The thing can’t see, but it can hear.” So we just have to distract it.

The walls go quiet, except for the approaching and retreating steps. I can’t see, but I can hear. The mutant and I are on the same level now, and to get this right, I have to time it perfectly. It’s in the area, not leaving and I hear it retreat a few steps, as if to track where we are.

Now.

“Hnnnngggg,” it grunts out.

“Polo!” I scream, and I hear Minty’s delicate footsteps running down the hall, but the mutant’s head directly towards me. I hear it pick up the pace, grunting low. It comes closer and closer, now at a full howl, until it hits the wall, the concrete turning to dust on my side. It slumps to the floor, and I take that as my cue to follow Minty’s footsteps down the hall. I keep straight, until I see the floor come together again, and I catch Minty breathing hard. She wraps me in her slim arms and hauls me tight.

   “God, that was so scary.”

“Maybe on your side,” I retort, but I hug my sister back. Just as I’m about to close my eyes, I see some movement from my periphery, and the mutant starts picking itself up from the floor.

“Jesus, that thing’s like a cockroach. Unwanted and immortal.” I unwrap myself from Minty, “Touching sibling moments can wait until we’re back in the bunker.”

“Okay. But you’re not escaping me then.” Minty teases, wiping tears from her eyes.

“I should have left you to the Siamese Man.” I see it start walking towards us, wobbly but determined.

“Run!” Minty yells, and we both take off, weaving in and out of hallways, with the Siamese Man not too far behind. We dash to the end of a corridor, but are stopped by a dead end. Minty and I kick and slap the wall.

“Oh, now you decide to work?!” I yell, the Siamese Man gaining speed, and trapping us.

“Here!” Minty yells, pulling loose a brittle column and tossing it to me. I stride towards the looming figure, the dull light that shines through the cracks casting a shadow of scattered limbs.

“Ahhh!” I raise the column over my head like a baseball and just as I’m about to unleash it, a bang ricochets off the walls. The Siamese Man’s eyes turn glassy before he collapses to the floor.

I peer ahead and a man looks intently at the giant, as I stare down the barrel of his gun.

“Daniel!” Minty screeches behind me, and runs towards the shooter, jumping into his awaiting arms.

“Daniel? As in your husband, that Daniel?” But the reunited couple is oblivious to my shock. Shooter twirls Minty around in his arms, sets her down, and leans in for a kiss, but ends up smooching it up with her mask.

“Keep it PG,” I holler, and the couple finally turns my way. I saunter towards them.

“Nice to meet you, Lydia. I’m Daniel. Minty’s husband.” The shooter extends his hand and I hand him my column.

“You stole my thunder.”

“Excuse me?” Daniel’s face scrunches with confusion.

“Did I stutter? You. Stole. My. Thunder. I was about to kill it, before you had to infect this area with your toxic masculinity.” I cross my arms.

“Ignore her. She’s an acquired taste. How did you get here?” Minty asks, in awe of her useless husband.

“I was safe from the blast, and I stayed indoors for about two weeks before I had to look for food. I didn’t know where you were, so I just came to your parent’s house. I’ve been here for around a month, waiting for you to show up, and killing these monsters” Daniel answers, tilting his head to the very large, very dead tumble of body parts.

“We call them Siamese Men,” I say. No response. Tough crowd.

“You’re staying with us now. In our parent’s bunker. We have tons of supplies, enough to last years.” Minty touches her gloved hand to Daniel’s face.

“So we’re just sharing our bunker now?” I interject, and they both ignore me again.

“I missed you, Minty. And honestly, I missed real food too. I’ve been surviving on scraps for a while.” Minty croons at this, and starts leading the way. I fall into step with Daniel.

“Don’t get too excited.” I say, following Minty’s retreating figure, “There’s no salt.”