Responsible

© Mark Willis 2026

Last edit – 26th July 2026

MW – This story came about from a vague idea, then wanting to experiment with a few different styles. Please let me know where you see room for improvement.

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“Divert the drainage to overflow B so we can flush those lines.” I instruct Jordan from the centre of the throng, as calmly as my worries allow. It’s still a surprise, whenever anyone listens, let alone does what I say. ‘I’m not my father… and you never will be!’

I can hear his voice as my inner doubts seize the opportunity. My eyes follow Jordan, whose been an engineer longer than I’ve been alive. I fixate on his hands, shaking as they fumble to un-clip his radio from his sandblasted belt while pushing through the gathering crowd.

It’s different when the water is threatened.

“Kontis. We need to…” his voice drifts into the anxious cacophony. Angry and frightened bodies press closer together. My eyes linger on the Hazell ‘boys’ as the third brother strides up, looking for a fight. I never truly know what they are thinking, what they will do. It scares me, the way bullies do. After living in this small community my entire life. where we cling together or die, they make me feel like an outsider.

“Zenon!” Despite being parched, Audrey’s voice is recognisable amongst the din.

As she squeezes between bodies, I lean close, to hear better. Inadvertently staring into uncharacteristically glassy eyes, “Audrey, I need you checking the outflow gauges.”

“The Hazell’s!”

“Ignore them! Put your hands on the actual valves. Nothing comes out of the main supply, understood? Not til we know what happened, till we figure out… What’s happened.” Her gaze flicks erratically, searching for threats. Evaporating sweat glistens on her forehead, drips from her shoulders. The sun has barely risen, and within the crowd, temperatures are spiraling

Around the shaded pavilion, the surrounding earth has been sculpted over decades to draw wind under the canopy, our largest above ground sanctuary, growing dangerously cramped as increasingly panicked faces duck beneath wind-frayed flaps. Now, the air is barely moving.

“Zenon!” Jenn’s voice cracks from my left, a farming apprentice, who grabs my arm too tightly, “The animal tanks are clean! That waters still clean!”

‘Don’t react’ the muscles in my face tighten, I can’t confuse the urgency by showing relief. I’m left wondering how many people heard where they will find fresh water… if things became desperate. If the wrong person heard… it will spread.

It takes a moment to scan the crowd for someone trustworthy, I squeeze the air out of my dust coated throat, whispering “Wojtek. Take a couple of your lads over to the pens, oh and Colleen. Not a drop for anything till I get there.” Wojtek can deal with a handful of thieves, and Colleen will make sure they don’t get any ideas themselves. It was a band-aid, all we have these days are band-aids.

The same questions are shouted at me by people smart enough to know better, now too frightened to show the common sense required to preserve what they have. Gritty sand catches and grinds under my sandals, between my toes. As I turn away from the loudest voice, without thinking, I’ve taken a tentative step to nowhere. My heart pounds, sweat slaloms down my back. It won’t be long till I’m dizzy.

The crunching sand on concrete creeps through the noise. Overlooked by the crowd as they jostle and shove, desperate to be the one shouting precious spittle across my cheeks and lips . ‘Barely a second to think, and you waste it worrying about cleaning.’

My rock catches my eye. Elizabeth. Standing on the very edge of the shade, watching calmly; She smiles. ‘How does she have such faith in me?’ When she winks, my heart flutters. When Tessa May barges in, she ducks recklessly under the tent flap, knocking Elizabeth forward. I strain to see what’s happening, while struggling to keep myself grounded among the shifting masses.

Half the town has already made their way into a tent designed to hold forty.

Bodies stifling airflow, bodies pressing together, heating each other, moving, burning energy, as if they have a way to replenish what’s lost.

“Friends! If you are waiting for news, please sit! And spread out… the day is only starting.” Their reaction is lethargic, the voices passionate, if aimless. To be heard means you have to be tall, important. To sit on the ground means acceptance. The usual suspects resist, The Hazell’s are too proud to be told anything, while those who know better step back, finding somewhere cooler to rest and fret. To them I am grateful. Every little bit helps, so more air can make it’s way to those at the centre.

There are no cool days anymore. Water is precious, and any fresh rain at least a week away… and only if we are unusually lucky. There is no way to tell anymore. We should be resting and sleeping underground, away from the worst of the heat. Instead frightened people insist on doing everything they can to make matters worse.

Meike silently approached at some point, hidden among the crowd. Unnoticed until some began to settle. No that is the wrong word, they are only sitting, and maybe spreading out a little.

“Where are we?” Meike asks.

“Probably cooked.” I answer, before regretting such carelessness, “It’s already hotter than— but we have plans. Just waiting for Aubrey and the pump team to say we’ve got the outflow contained.”

“The boys were preemptively shutting things down when I left, only, something was clogging the intake, blocking one of the valve’s.”

In a whisper, I lean in, “Doc thinks it might be dysentery or salmonella, only, it’s never been so bad so quick.”

Meike, hesitates before matching my volume, speaking directly into my ear. “I found deep cart tracks in the dirt along the Western shoreline — Z, some of the shade balls smelled like shit. I sent a couple of the rangers to see if they can find where the tracks went, but someone’s tipped — someone’s contaminated our supply.”

“Geezus, is this deliberate?” Bile rises, and my anger with it, even though the idea is ludicrous. Someone has endangered them all… why? You don’t ever fuck with the water. If it was the people of Ravensburg, it wouldn’t make sense. Desert transients even less so. I push my questions away, knowing who, won’t save tomorrows lives. That feral desire still tests my focus, and all I have is the new girl to keep me in-line. Meike had only apprenticed with me since Charlie Winmill had died. ‘Fuck… I miss Charlie.’

I absently repeat things we both already know, “They are emptying the pipes. Dumping contaminated water into overflow, I want a manageable pool to treat. Make that our main supply, cycle it back to overflow, while we deal with the … infection.” I needed to hear it said aloud, so we can hear the holes in our evolving plans.

When this settlement started, I wasn’t even a child. We had banks of solar panels, enough to run electricity to each home. A long fall from the life my parents grew up in. They could store food, run some cooling. Now; Everything goes to water treatment, pumping, farming— by reclaiming panels from individuals, moving everyone underground, we have capacity for now, just not as much as people believe.

The water supplies the crops, the water hydrates the people, and so it is the one thing that can’t afford to fail, and somehow ‘I’ve’ let that happen.

‘You’re a fraud.’ I almost looked for my father that time, I could feel much worse being said within the crowd.

Meike waits expectantly for me to speak, so I ask, “Solar panels?”

“Split them. Use some of the reserves to get the pumps at the overflow working. Right?”

“Yeah, but get — fuck — put Hayes on it, I need you here.”

“I should—”

“I know. But until we have all the pieces, I don’t know where I need you, Hayes’ll get things started. We’ll just have to check it later.” The smile I present feels forced and fake. If I’d hoped to reassure her, I’m certain I failed.

Meike clearly had more to say, her doubts obvious, though, she had enough sense to bide her time. Meike wasn’t to know, but Hayes will take some of his lads with him, a couple of which would be mouthy trouble if they don’t have work to occupy them.

As she steps away, I close my eyes, to distance myself from the noise. Acrid sweat claws the air, dripping wastefully onto concrete. Mine and anyone else stupidly above ground. Precious moisture to be replaced. Salts to be managed. Lives on the edge.

“Actually… I need you to check with the Doctor, see what he’s thinking — Please?” Meike looks confused. A good mentor, would slow down, explain the decisions being taken. Courtesy will have to wait. “And take notes.” I say, as I put a gentle hand on her shoulder, turning her towards the tunnels.

Letting the Doctor monitor his patients, rather than running up here to report might define the problem sooner. More honestly. I just need time to breath. Meike is a good kid, hell, she’s 22 now, we just haven’t developed the shorthand that I had with Charlie. She’d known when to step in, when to wait.

‘Meike didn’t do anything wrong. If you are sending her away, it’s cause you’re a coward.’

My inner doubts bubbled. Self-loathing… self-hatred. I need —

“Elizabeth?” My eyes dart to the last place I was gifted her smile. Nothing. And my heart skips.

Tessa May is holding court with the Hazell’s now. Being the match that ignites the fire is her usual move. As long as I can see them, things haven’t escalated yet. They usually start once they’ve collectively talked themselves into the stupidest thing they can do.

‘Why aren’t they already looking to bash someone’s head’ I wonder. ‘What do they know?’

Then I feel familiar warmth tingle up my arm. Experienced fingers gliding into position, caressing the ridges, applying pleasure. Letting me know she is by my side. Always by my side. When she leans in and whispers “Hey!” In my ear, my hand moves to her waist, while my heart swells.

My eye’s seek comfort before I can turn my head, and I see her glint. Genuine pride. Love I never expected to find. For a moment I am lost in our love.

“What would I have done if your caravan hadn’t passed through here?”

“I was always going to find you. Or you would have found me. Too good not to happen.” Elizabeth lets her smile fade before saying “You’re amazing.”

“I love you for that, but you don’t know. I’m probably fucking this up.” That was too honest. We don’t hide things from each other, but she hates when I am negative. To soften things I say, “We have a plan.”

“’I’ when something goes wrong. ‘We’ when there is credit is up for grabs.” Her forehead wrinkles at my patterns. I blush, and look at the ground. She is correct, that is just who I became.

“Meike is…” I say.

“I know you have things handled. I don’t need to know how. I need those…” and she waves a dismissive hand across the pavilion. “…to understand how much you do. I need you, to believe how special you are.”

“Ely! Not now, not yet. We are in a lot of trouble.”

She smiles again, different than before. Confidently. “It’ll be okay. Folk’ll be boiling water till you get the pipes flowing again. You’ve got this.”

“Maybe — and that’s a very soft maybe — Whatever this is, there’s somethin’ strange to it. Someone did it to us.”

“You’re over—“

“No! I’m not.” I need to reign in my voice, my panic. The on-lookers have stayed, murmuring amongst themselves. Eyes linger carelessly, watching my every move. Most have the decency to pretend to look away when ours gazes meet. Others stare defiantly, intent on expressing their displeasure.

“Fine. You say it’s a big deal. I know we are in good hands. You’ll get us through this.” And she rubs my arm.

Even that connection lowers my blood pressure. A palpable relief. How does she make me seem like more than I am? I’m lost in the pools at the centre of those jade rings. For a moment I forget how hot it is, till Tessa May collapses.

The room gasps. At least it feels that way. Like, the canvas roof actually luffed as the assembled crowd sucked in all the air. One of the Hazell’s caught her half-way and someone called for the doctor, as if we don’t understand heat exhaustion.

I open my mouth to argue, but Colin Dyson organises a couple of guys to carry her to the tunnels. A tiny blessing.

When I look back at Elizabeth, something has shifted. Doubt? Concern? I can’t tell, which is unusual for us. It’s my turn to reassure her. “Hey! This is the scary bit, but we have plans. I won’t ever let anything happen to you.”

What did I even mean by that. I haven’t drunk anything since last night, how far am I from collapse? A reminder that we need to be rationing fluids to those we need the most. Making the water drinkable again was the only thing going to keep everyone alive. Some would probably have to go on subsistence so those that had to work, could.

‘Unless Elizabeth is right.’ And isn’t Elizabeth always right?

I usually didn’t have those doubts, but this isn’t something I can take a chance with. ‘I need Meike back here.’ I could have sent anyone— anyone I can trust to talk to the doctor. I should have kept her here to learn, to help.

‘Add it to your list of fuck-ups.’

“Are you okay?” I ask Elizabeth, suddenly concerned at the possible answers.

“Me?” She says it dismissively and seems surprised the sudden change in topic. After her face softens, she doubles down, “I’m fine, you wonderful man.”

“Are you sure? I feel wobbly if I’m honest.”

Her arm caresses my bicep and she whispers in my ear, “I filled the big container, yesterday.” Her mouth moves as she continues to talk, I can feel the air tickling my ear, but the words are lost.

It wasn’t unusual to have jugs and containers filled. To have a little water by our bed. It was how she said ‘yesterday.’

When I step back, her fingers linger as long as they can, the tips dropping into the empty space, finding nothing to hold onto.

Of everything I could have said, the careful words I could have chosen, my brain could only conjure a gruff “Why?” and I saw it. A flash of something, that, if I wasn’t looking for any other explanation, I would call guilt.

And she see’s it, my change, my question. We both look to the sides, at the people near-by, for reaction. If anyone even suspects her involvement, they could kill her… and isn’t that the doubt I’ve allowed in?

‘What’ stuck like a bone in my throat.

Surrounded by people, this isn’t a place for doubt, even innocent questions could lead to terrible things. Impetuous, retributive justice whether deserved or not. Tempers and temperatures stoking the other, entropy demands equalisation. Heat must be vented somewhere, anywhere.

At my Elizabeth.

Surely this is ridiculous, a horrible misunderstanding, a regretful thought that will wake me in the night for the rest of my life. To believe something like this… would make me a terrible person, Elizabeth might never forgive me. Why should she—

Only… she hasn’t spoken. Anger hasn’t flared. She didn’t storm off in deserved disgust. Her eyes, her soul, seek understanding. They tell me everything.

If we leave suddenly, if I take her hand and lead her back to the tunnels, we will need to wind through to corridors till we are back in our burrow. How many people will we have to look in the eye? Tell them, ‘everything will be okay… Do I even believe that?

Elizabeth’s mouth twitches, begins to open. I grab her hand but instead of making for the tunnels, I lead her away, out into the baking sun. The contrast is debilitating and brutal. Without the canvas shade, the beating sun is relentless. Necessary, if I am to be the only one to hear… whatever she will say.

Her smaller hand inside of mine, resists. She complains at being dragged outside, but isn’t that what you do with suspects? Shine a light in their eyes, and turn up the heat.

“What are you doing? Come back inside.”

My every instinct tells me to do that, but we need privacy, and this is the only place to find it.

“Tell me everything you know.”

“What am I supposed to know?”

“Please let it be nothing, but I need it all.”

Then she turns away. Even when we fight, she never turns away; Not like this.

“Do we lie to each other?” I ask.

“Never.” It was our one rule for surviving the end of times. Having someone to rely on, while everything else collapses around you, gives you something to live for.

The whipping tarpaulins, crack and sing while pellets of golden sand abrade exposed skin. We wrap our scarves around our heads leaving only a flapping slit for vision. If I didn’t know her so well, I may not have noticed the left shoulder slump, or her turned-in feet of resignation. But I do know her; Better than anyone.

“You needed a win.”

And my heart breaks. We are behind the clay bulwark, everyone else is inside the tent, I can hear rising voices, faster voices, but they are on the far side of the tent. If anyone followed us, watched us go, they stopped before exiting the shade. My shoulders slump in defeat. My back bends, forcing me to grab my legs above the knees, as blood flees my brain.

Questions and consequences run rampant, as my mind struggles for meaning. Can there be any reasonable explanation for endangering the lives of several hundred people? None that I can imagine. Elizabeth starts to explain, before lurching forward to support my arm, before guiding me to the closest place to lean against, the man-high outer-rim of the clay bulwark.

The heat eases through my Bedouin styled layers, threatening to broil my skin, forcing me to regain my balance, to stand unassisted. Except for her supportive hand gripping my elbow.

For the first time, unwelcome.

Casting about for on lookers, I slip free before turning her by the shoulders to face me. I can watch the closest exit from the central tent. In as low a voice as am able to manage in the swirling gusts, I ask her directly.

“What have your done?”

“They weren’t…”

“I don’t care why. What have you done? How do I fix it?” The edge in my voice sets something off inside her that I can’t afford to soothe now. So raising my voice I snap.

“Ely!” and my stomach lurches when she flinches, because I barked her name.

With barely contained contempt, Elizabeth, my Elizabeth says

“I needed a cart to fill with excrement. So—”

“What kind?” and she stares blankly, I never cut her off like that. I know it is disrespectful but we cannot afford the time.

“Pig shit? Cows? Human?”

“Human…? Fuck you. I went to the farm.” She looks at me coldly, waiting for permission to continue. I hate that I don’t have time to apologise, to make things right.

I nod, as if I have that authority.

“I wheeled it out to the supply, then dumped it in. It’s only a cart full of poop in a pool of water.” She looks down her nose at me, awaiting her apology now. She is going to have to continue waiting. I need more.

The way the Doc is worried means this is more serious than what she is telling me, so either she’s lying, to me, or I’m missing something.

“Just one load? Of whatever you gathered at the farm?”

“Right. So it’s fine.” Her folded arms demanded victory, but I was furious, and desperate to understand.

“How… How long… Did anyone see you?”

I could swear it got colder as she rolled her eyes. “I was in and out. No one saw me. Can you relax.”

“I will always worry about us. Like how did you load the manure. Did anyone hear you? Did anyone see you leave?”

“I love that you want to help, but I already know how amazing you are. Just get the water cleaned up so everyone else does too. Okay?”

“I’m serious. How do you know you weren’t seen?”

“Because I waited till late. The farm teams were feeding the animals. I was just going to watch and see their routine, but I find a loaded cart. So I just, go for it. Just had to shovel it out on the far side of the reservoir, in the dark while everyone else’s working. Made it to pre-dawn meal with everyone else.”

“You found a cart already loaded with manure?”

“…and phosphorous. nitrogen, potassium…” A quiet voice offered, and Elizabeth gasped looking around my frame.

While I was watching the closest exit behind Elizabeth, Meike had apparently approached from behind. My titling head squeezes against my shoulder, and my eyes grimace at our discovery.

The lithe Germanic girl waits respectfully. She always does.

I turn to face her before I can open my eyes, I can’t bear to look at Elizabeth. Things need to be contained before they can escalate. When the words failed to emerge, Meike dips her head slightly before speaking.

“Jenn figured it out then found me while I was with the Doc. Farmers are prepping slow release tablets in batches to rehabilitate the south field. It was all mixed in with the manure that Elizabeth tipped into the supply.”

My fix-it brain wants to analyse the problem, determine the best course, but we’ve been discovered. I’m not the solution, I’m the cause, because Elizabeth did something incredibly reckless, thinking she was helping me.

Meike had heard enough to connect the dots, she’s not stupid, and isn’t making a scene. Maybe it we can talk things through. It seems possible till Elizabeth sinks her face into my back, trembling hands gripping the salt soaked cloth I am wearing. Her fear snuffs out my faint hopes.

I can’t think of what I can say, but I wish I’d said anything before Meike could continue.

“It’s a theory for now, but if tablets have been sucked into the pipes, they are pouring bulk chemicals directly into people’s taps.” She pauses and calmly looks at Elizabeth, “Davis died.”

Life has already drained from Elizabeth’s skin as I turn to face her. Her pupils larger than I’ve ever seen them, she mouths the words “I didn’t know.”

I wrap my arms around her, I don’t now how to make this right. I plan for everything, but my mind is blank. I can only draw her in, hold her tight.

My fathers voice whispers ‘Meike knows.’ It would be easy to leave it there, to blame a man, for who good enough, was never enough, but he’s been dead a long time. Meike knows everything, but Jenn and the Doc know she was coming to see me. ‘What the fuck are you even thinking? How do I save Ely?’ is the regret that fades into nothing.

Meike clears her throat before speaking to Elizabeth, “Best I can suggest. You leave now. We wait to tell the others. I’ll make sure they know Zenon wasn’t involved.” My knees are ready to buckle before she speaks ‘at’ me, “We’ll have to distract the hotheads from following, but nothing can save her if she stays.” We wobble on our feet together. Meike sounds ill.

My heart sinks and we squeeze each others bodies tightly. Elizabeth begins to cry and I join her. I can feel every shake and tremor, legs ready to collapse, to drag us to the ground. The murmur from the tent suddenly seems restless, oppressive.

There’s an urgent need to run.

As I pull back, pleading tear filled eyes look up. She wants answers, or hope. I have none. I stare deeply, unblinking, and say, “We’ll leave.” My wife’s head drops, her knees do buckle, and she sobs too loudly.

“You don’t have to go. This isn’t your crime.”

That word stings in a way I didn’t think was possible. I want to tell her to fuck off, to not talk about my Ely that way, but she’s right, and she’s wrong.

As much as I want to leap to Elizabeth’s defence, explain that we are a package— there isn’t time. My spine straightens.

Meike sounds desperate, “Please don’t go Zenon. You’ll never make it… not, together… We need you here.” And I whisper, “But I love her.”

Meike grimaces, bites her tongue. She wants to save my life, is trying to, but knows she won’t be able.

I wrap an arm around my wife and partly carry her weight as we trudge back towards the tunnels, pausing halfway there. Meike has followed forlornly, so I relay my final plans.

“If the tablets are in the pipes, keep flushing, don’t trust they are in the overflow. Test the main levels! Tell them all what’s happened. Figure out what we have, how to re-balance the supply. Be honest. Explain what we’ve done. I don’t want people panicking about external attacks. If they come looking for us, then so be it. I wont cause more harm.”

Meike is visibly distraught as she speaks. “I-I didn’t mean to over hear. I just needed to find you.”

I shake my head at her concerns. “This isn’t on you. They need someone who does the right thing, even when it hurts.” I point her back towards the pavilion and just before she goes, I add “It’s you now.”

Hoping the settlement is in good hands, means I switch to our immediate survival. If word gets out before we can leave, if I haven’t prepped the right emergency gear, if we can’t find shelter, avoid the transients … maybe find somewhere to take us in, then our days are numbered.

Clinging tightly together we enter my child hood tunnels for the final time.