The Eleventh Plague

“If there was any group we avoided the most, it was [the enslavers]. Some were ex-military, others were just brutal scum. We saw them skulking around the edges of the trade gatherings like a bad disease. They mostly kept to themselves, but as far as we knew, they ranged throughout the country taking whoever they could and selling them to scattered militia groups, the few surviving plantation owners down south, or even the Chinese.”

This passage quickly establishes the brutality of the post-Collapse world, including its rampant dehumanization of others. The enslavers are characterized as people who once had power over others and continue to abuse it by treating people as property. At the same time, Stephen’s casual generalization about “the Chinese” participating in the trade of enslaved people suggests his own dehumanization of others. The struggle to survive discourages empathy and allows particularly cruel people to exploit others.

“I scrambled to catch [the keys] but the woman sprang up behind me and pushed me down, snatching the keys out of the air. There was a boom, deafening in the steel walls of the plane, as the man’s gun rang out. Thank God he was drunk. The bullet missed Dad by inches and slammed into the ground.”

This scene establishes the intense individualism—verging on selfishness—that is common among the novel’s characters, developing the theme of Individualism Versus Communalism as Survival Strategies. Each person is completely focused on their own survival to the detriment of others; altruism often ends in death, as is the case with Stephen’s father. The enslaved woman sacrifices Stephen and his father to escape, while the enslaver tries to shoot them to prevent losing his “property.” However, if choosing to help the enslaved people leads to disaster and death, Stephen’s father’s sacrifice also lays the groundwork for Stephen and others to recognize their own potential for selflessness.

“It wasn’t long before I found the video game. It was one of the big stand-up ones that Dad said they used to have in arcades when he was a kid. It was sitting at an odd canted angle, half on, half off a thick tree root that had sprung up out of the ground. It said Mortal Kombat on its side and was covered with colorful pictures of gigantic men and women in masks grappling with one another. The paint was peeling off in places, revealing a rusty metal surface underneath. Who knew how it got there? We ran into things like it, strange misplaced relics, from time to time.”

The imagery in this passage establishes the eerie setting of the postapocalyptic world, where fragments of the past remain in all the wrong places. In this instance, the presence of Mortal Kombat creates irony; whereas once people played games to simulate fighting and killing each other, now that has become reality, and fiction is left to rot in the wilderness. The description of peeling paint revealing rust underscores the symbolism. Like the paint, the Collapse has revealed the rusted filth underneath humanity.

“I leveled the scope. His face was round, unlined, beardless, and framed in a tangle of reddish curls. The ground beneath me pulled away and I went icy inside. My God. He’s younger than me.”

The meaning of childhood varies wildly throughout the novel. While the Landing attempts to preserve “traditional” childhood through practices like formal schooling, children generally must grow up fast in the post-Collapse world. Here, however, Stephen recognizes the significance of youth when faced with the possibility of killing someone his own age. If Jenny represents the fight to survive, Will comes to symbolize the possibility of being a child again, making Stephen’s choice to spare him vital to the progression of the story.

“Grandpa said that in the days of P11, people tried to escape the disease by barricading themselves in their homes, praying it would pass them by like an ill wind but it rarely worked. Somehow the plague always slipped in, under the doorways or through the windows like a mist, and killed them as they lay in their beds or sat at their dinner tables. Grandpa said that people used to think their home was their castle, but the Eleventh Plague made them all tombs.”

The motif of homes and houses is an important part of the novel, and this passage begins to establish the difference between the two words. While Grandpa uses the word “home” to describe the places where people died, Stephen later uses the word “home” to connote something less physical. People died of the plague in their houses but remade homes out of the (literal) ashes. Houses have beds and dinner tables; homes have living, breathing people.

“Lord, after the flood, many of us believed it would be the fire next time. All of us here saw that fire, and thanks to your grace we were among the few who found their way through it. As we struggle to please you, we are beset on all sides by those that would tear down all that we have built.”

Caleb often references the Bible in his speeches, using it to manipulate and control others in a way that highlights Tradition Versus Toxic Nostalgia in American Culture. This passage references the flood in Genesis that wipes out all but Noah and his family, whom God spares. This implies that Caleb believes that God has chosen him to survive, which characterizes him as arrogant and dismissive of others, whom he views as less deserving or even as evil.

“She was right—I had never actually seen a Chinese person up close before, let alone talked to one. These were the people the United States had been at war with? The people who’d released P11 and killed millions? After the plague had passed and the Chinese troops had invaded, there’d been years of vicious fights between them and the survivors. My family had fled San Diego a year before I was born, though, so we mostly kept out of it. Still, we couldn’t help but see the spreading aftermath. Grandpa said the Chinese were subhuman. Savage, ugly, and vicious. But if that’s true, I wondered, how come when I look at Jenny, that’s not what I see?”

Through Jenny, Stephen learns that Chinese (or Chinese American) people are as human as Stephen himself. He overcomes his prejudices quickly in part because they were based on hearsay from his grandfather, whom Stephen knows to have been cruel and unfair.

“Mom said that maybe the world wouldn’t always be like it was now. But even if it was, she said, sometimes it was important to do things there was no real use for. Like reading books and taking pictures. She’d said we had to be more than what the world would make us.”

Once again, the novel examines the difference between humanity and survival. Art and intellectualism do not aid survival in an immediate or literal sense, but they preserve what it means to be human. Stephen here recognizes that making art, learning, and recognizing other’s humanity are all key to survival in this broader sense.

“Others told their stories and as they did I looked around the group, noticing things I hadn’t seen before. A long jagged scar along the forearm of the blond kid who played right field. A deep smudgelike burn mark peeking out from under the sweater of the redheaded girl sitting on the other side of me. The more I looked, the more I saw them, those telltale marks of lives lived after the Collapse. How had I not noticed them before? Was it possible that they all had lives like mine at some point until they came here?”

Stephen’s connections with the other teens are based on feeling kinship with them, and much of Stephen’s experience of the world has been trauma-based. Seeing that the other teens have also experienced trauma is vital to Stephen, as it allows him to see them as equals instead of people who can never understand him. This, in turn, allows him to view the entire concept of the Landing not as a foolish dream but as a viable society, if one with extensive flaws.

“I lifted my old pants and turned them over. Sewn on the right knee was a rectangular scrap of cloth with gold ducks on it. Dad had put the patch on when I’d worn through the knee a few months ago. The square of cloth had come from one of Mom’s old dresses, her favorite one. After she died, Grandpa had insisted we trade her clothes away, but Dad had kept that one dress, hiding it like I hid my books.”

This passage is one of many that establishes the significance ordinary objects can have for people—especially people dealing with grief. As with his grandfather’s ring, Stephen struggles to balance emotion and practicality; the former encourages him to value his dirty clothes for what they represent and what they have come to mean, whereas the latter encourages him to accept new, better clothes. Ultimately, the novel suggests there is no wrong answer, provided that Stephen acknowledges the meaning that the scrap of cloth has.

“The times we live in, Mr. Quinn, are teetering between the chaos behind us—an infancy made up of smoke and terror and withering plague—and what adulthood lies ahead for us. Wisdom? Peace? Oblivion? Whatever it is, to get there we must let go of the past. It is dead and gone. It will never return and it cannot be changed. All we have now is one another and whatever new thing we make together.”

Mr. Tuttle’s words speak to the overall theme of making something new out of the world rather than clinging to old patterns. The town of Settler’s Landing is determined to preserve the past, but even Mr. Tuttle, who lives in and benefits from this world, knows that it is not sustainable. Mr. Tuttle, one of the wisest characters in the novel, helps Stephen realize that human connection is the only thing that can save them.

“I mean, it’s hilarious, right? Baseball games. Thanksgiving. American flags. They’re the ones responsible for blowing all that stuff up in the first place, and now they love it so much and want it all back? They even took Fort Leonard and built themselves a little nemesis.”

Jenny’s perspective contrasts with the perspectives of most of the other characters in the Landing. As an outsider, Stephen does not share either Jenny’s cynicism or the other settlers’ romanticism and must learn from both. Jenny, who is ostracized for being Chinese American, can view the settlers’ society for what it is—a hollow reconstruction of an idealized past that is hurtling toward the same destruction. Jenny eventually chooses to defend not this society but the people within it.

“In the clearing ahead was a house totally unlike all the others in Settler’s Landing. It was enormous, more of a mansion than a house, with towering white walls and columns flanking the front door like marble generals. Two windows in the upper stories glowed with yellow light and filled the yard with a flickering glow.”

Stephen’s image of the Henry house quickly establishes the contrast between their family and all the other families in the community. Although the entirety of the Landing was once a rich, gated community, the Henrys are the only family still attempting to live like they are wealthy. The description of the house also evokes the traditional appearance of Southern plantations, further implying the power dynamics at play in the Henry family’s grip on the community and foreshadowing their involvement with the enslavers.

“For years now we have been safe in our anonymity, blessed by God in this place, but I fear, I fear deeply, that such a time may be coming to an end. These new times will demand not only vigilance but also action. It’s my opinion that we cannot sit idly, waiting to be attacked again. If we are to be truly safe, we must act now before the danger grows.”

Caleb’s response to Stephen and Jenny’s prank is melodramatic, revealing his true character and desire for violence. Importantly, nobody was hurt in their prank, even if the animals caused chaos and harmed the house itself. By overreacting and using their mischief to manipulate the community, Caleb loses Will and destroys his reputation. In other words, by valuing his house, he loses his home.

“There was a crash behind us as part of another wall fell in. The relief of safety washed away, though, when I realized that everything we owned—my pack and supplies, Jenny’s clothes, Grandpa’s rifle—was all in the barn. We couldn’t go back to Settler’s Landing without shelter or supplies, and with winter coming on fast, we were dead.”

Objects are not just important for sentimental value but necessary for survival. The stark reality of Stephen and Jenny’s situation destroys any illusion that they are children anymore. Settler’s Landing’s refusal to protect them shows its value system; the residents remain insular and protect their own safety, even if doing so could lead to the deaths of two teenagers with no one else to help them.

“Besides, in the end, who had Grandpa’s rules ever saved? Not Mom. Not Dad. Not even himself. If it was true that all paths in our world led to only one place, then why not fill whatever path you chose with the best things you could find? I wasn’t my grandfather. I never would be.”

Stephen shares his name with both his father and his grandfather and struggles to find his own identity apart from them. In this passage, he realizes that the life he wants to lead is very different from the life led by his grandfather, who has loomed over the narrative and forced Stephen to prioritize himself and his own survival. This is a turning point in Stephen’s character arc even though his father’s death sends him spiraling into existential despair.

“I heard his booming laugh and his shuddering sobs as he sat by his father’s grave and Mom’s and the daughter’s he would never know. I felt his chest rise and fall alongside mine, his breath like the dry turning of pages in a book. All of that had come to this. Stillness. A yawning silence. Like none of those things had ever been.”

This passage establishes the ultimate fragility of life and memory, particularly in a postapocalyptic world. Stephen is the only person remaining who can remember his father and their life together, and the constant threat of death means that, at any point, that could disappear as well. Stephen’s grief in the face of loss is thus intense; he has lost not only his father but also all his connections to his childhood.

“Marcus. Violet. Dad. My mom. Even you and me. We thought the Collapse was over but it’s not. It just keeps going. It doesn’t matter where we go or what we do. We’re all dead. All of us. We just don’t know it yet.”

This passage epitomizes Stephen’s despair after losing his father. Hope and despair in the face of destruction are key themes in the book, and what determines whether the characters will act humanely toward each other. Stephen’s reflections demonstrate exactly how despair causes people to dehumanize others; since life ends in death, life doesn’t matter in the first place. Although Stephen snaps out of this eventually, this passage illuminates the experience of countless others in his world.

“‘Everyone in Fort Leonard is just waking up,’ Jackson said, almost to himself, the words tumbling out. ‘They’re talking. Starting fires for breakfast. Wishing it wasn’t snowing. But then these people, us, will appear and some of them won’t live through the day. Some of them have maybe a few hours left until they’re gone, or their families are gone and they’re alone. And they have no idea it’s coming. They think it’s just another day.’”

Jackson’s childhood experiences help him empathize with others and view them as fellow humans, not inherent enemies. His role in the book is unique: Jackson is the first who uses his trauma to become a better person, which creates a cascade effect of others choosing to do the same.

“As Violet moved along the line of wounded, I wiped a splash of blood off Will’s cheek with the edge of my sleeve. For an awful moment I thought I would never be able to leave that spot. There was a time I probably would have claimed that I wanted Will Henry dead, but now, seeing him lying there pale and covered in blood, all I felt was emptiness, waste, and stupidity.”

This passage illuminates the value of human life. Will is not portrayed as a good person, but when faced with Will’s death, Stephen must accept that all death is tragic. The fact that Will is not much older than he is underscores this. Will’s early death means that he never has the chance to improve or change. He dies as a bully, but his death still affects the world around him deeply.

“I stared down at his white face, craggy and pitted and hard as Grandpa’s. His teeth were bared, his eyes burning but empty. I saw him coming at us in the plane, drunken and full of hate. For so long I had blamed Dad for what had happened. But I knew right then, leaning over that monster, that it was this man’s fault, everything was. All Dad had been trying to do was be a better man than him.”

The description of the enslaver as both “empty” and similar to Stephen’s grandfather is important to the novel’s definition of evil. Evil is not inhuman but deeply, horribly human. All humans have the capacity for the kind of harm that the enslaver and Stephen’s grandfather caused; Stephen’s realization that what happened is “this man’s fault” is not merely a condemnation of him but also of what he represents.

“Jackson shuddered, then dropped his head into his hands, his chest heaving as he sobbed. I dragged myself closer and put my hand on his shoulder. I wanted to say thank you. I wanted to say I was sorry. I wanted to say a lot of things, but right then it seemed best to say nothing at all, so I sat there with him until his breathing slowed, thinking how the end of the world had made so many of us unrecognizable, even to ourselves.”

This passage emphasizes that taking human life is not something to treat lightly. Although millions have died before the novel even begins, death remains a weighty occurrence—even the death of an evil man like the enslaver. Jackson’s grief at taking a life also shows that callousness is not an inherent human trait.

“Stan nodded, then waved his people forward. Marcus and Sam and the others from Settler’s Landing led the way, but soon the people from Fort Leonard had caught up. They all mixed together, one side indistinguishable from the other as they marched towards the fires.”

This passage emphasizes the unity humanity can achieve and should pursue. The people become indistinguishable from each other because they are fundamentally all the same; the divisions created by the settlements are imaginary, just like the broader divisions between countries that led to war and disaster. This passage offers hope for the future, as instead of causing disaster and death, humanity can unite and face these challenges together.