Weep (Book 1): The Irish Epidemic

by Brady, Eoin

  Usually Solene’s messages were terse, but he logged on to find a novel’s worth of words from her. Shaking, he put the phone down, unable to read them. He pinched his leg, picked up the phone and dialled his Dad’s number, it was the only one he knew by heart. The phone rang out for so long that he gasped for air after holding his breath.

  “Hello?”

  “Dad.”

  His father broke down on the other end of the phone. The only time Fin had witnessed his composure slip was when they had to put their dog down. He felt joy at the sound of a voice he thought gone from the world.

  The crying stopped, became distant. “Is that Fin?” He knew her voice, it robbed him of his own.

  “Solene?”

  He could hear her breathing heavily over the phone. Fin laughed through his tears. “I thought you were dead.” He slipped from the chair onto his knees, holding the phone to his ear with both hands. “I love you.” He repeated it like a prayer.

  There was too much commotion on the other end of the line for him to make out what was being said. Eventually his father took the phone. “Ah, that’s lovely, I love you too son.”

  In the background Fin heard his sister and mother laughing, then other voices, his whole family was around the phone now.

  “Hello everyone.” Fin wiped his runny nose on his sleeve.

  “Where are you?” his sister asked.

  “Under the biggest rock that I could find. You’re all okay?”

  “As well as can be expected. What’s it like where you are?” his dad asked.

  “Overrun. The army has set up in Westport House, trying to make it safe. I’m with colleagues along the coast.”

  “Get away from the army if you can,” Solene said.

  Hearing her voice brought on a fresh wave of tears. Fin did not want to worry them. “I’m safe,” he said. “What is it like back home?”

  “We didn’t fare so well,” his mother said. “The hospital down the road was riddled with them. Then they started coming down the motorway from Dublin. Plenty of them bypassed us and continued on to Belfast, only to meet the infected coming from the north. We’re okay now. We’ve blockaded the estate, but the town is still overrun.”

  Listening to the relief in their voices, he felt like a monster for letting them think he was dead for so long. “I’ll try and get home.”

  “Don’t.” His father's tone changed. “It’s not safe. Just – if you have food and shelter, then stay where you are. Of course we want you here with us, but we’ll be together once this ends. Don’t make any unnecessary journeys.”

  “Come on, give him and Solene some privacy,” his mother said.

  “I love you guys.”

  They returned the sentiment and left Solene and Fin to share silence.

  “I thought you were –” They spoke at the same time, interrupting each other.

  “You first,” Solene said.

  “I thought you were gone, Sol.” Outside the office window, grey clouds drifted across the sky. “The last message I got from you was when you lost your phone. I thought…”

  “That was in Dublin. My flight never left.”

  “How did you make it to Drogheda?”

  “Walked. I got onto the motorway and followed it here. I thought I was being stupid at first. After I lost my mother, I didn’t know where else to go. The bus never came and traffic backed up so much that I think I made it here before people on buses did.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Lost her in the rush. I tried to find her, but it was impossible to know who was infected at the beginning. She would have gone to her brother’s.”

  “Has she called yet?”

  “No, but you’re only reaching out now, so no reason why she won’t do the same.”

  Fin was scared of facing the deaths of his loved ones. He did not try and contact them for selfish reasons. He knew her mother was a better person than he was. “I lost my phone, maybe she did too.”

  “You don’t know my number off by heart?”

  “This is the longest we’ve been apart for as long as I can remember. Do you remember mine?”

  “How are our fur babies?”

  “The cats are good actually, they miss you. They must have thought it was Christmas, I poured weeks’ worth of food out for them. Filled every bowl in the house with water. The windows are open for them to come and go as they please. Remember how they used to annoy me by leaving mice outside our bedroom door? We know they can hunt. They’ll be fine.”

  “I hate thinking of them alone. I’m glad you were there to help them. I should be there with you. I can’t stop thinking about you there alone and scared. Please don’t die on me, please.”

  “I hadn’t planned on it.”

  “Why did we never make a contingency plan in case the world ended? I saw your post online, but I was afraid to call you in case it caused too much noise,” Solene said.

  “I lost my phone.”

  “Oh, I hope nobody gets my nudes from it.”

  Fin laughed uncontrollably. When he was able to catch a breath he said, “I don’t think zombies have much use for them, love.”

  “Don’t call them that.”

  “Zombies?”

  “They’re people.”

  “Yes, dead ones.”

  “Anyway, I think your dad was right. If you are safe, then I want you to stay that way. As much as I want to hold you again,” she said. “The country has gone mental. Drone strikes on cities. Outskirts of Dublin are being shelled by war ships in the Irish Sea. I can’t believe what’s going on. People are terrified. I am too. I don’t think if this ended tomorrow the restrictions would stop. There’s a lot of anti-Irish feeling in other countries.”

  “It’s well for you then with a French accent.”

  “I know I’m fine, it’s you with your bogger drawl that I’m worried about.”

  “How bad is it there, really?”

  Solene started whispering. “People are clamouring for a cure, some in the camp have tried inoculating themselves with the flesh of recently deceased infected, thinking it would make them immune.”

  “That sounds stupid. Did it work?”

  “It’s one of the main reasons people here are still dying behind the defences. It’s fine if they want to kill themselves, but they rarely die before they infect others. I miss you holding me.”

  That caught Fin off guard. “I know, I feel the same. Truth be told, I’m glad you’re not here. I couldn’t do this with you in danger. I don't sleep much now, but when I do, I dream of you. You are always with me.”

  “How many brownie points are you going for?” She laughed and sobbed. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  They chatted until his arm went numb from holding the phone to his ear. His family came back and he told them most of what had happened to him since the outbreak.

  When it came time to hang up, it felt like one of those nights when they stayed up talking until the sun rose. He felt satisfied, tired and spent.

  Without her voice on the other end of the phone, he realised how quiet it was. He could hear the voices in the game that George and Rebecca played. He wiped his eyes and composed himself before returning to them.

  “How is everyone?” Rebecca asked.

  “Alive. Solene went to my parents in Drogheda after the outbreak. She’s okay.”

  “Fin, that’s great news.”

  “I have to get back there, somehow.”

  “Look at it this way, they’re safe and you’re safe. Why tempt bad luck by making rash decisions?” George said.

  “I agree with you. If the infected from town start wandering out this way and get through the hedges, then we’re trapped. The islands would be ideal for now,” Fin said.

  “We have a plan,” George said.

  “If that’s the case then it’s my turn on the game.” George passed him the remote. “You can tell me while I play.”

  26

  Islands


  The feeling of comfort beneath the warm, soft blanket was completely spoiled by George tickling the bottom of Fin’s protruding feet. The rich aroma of coffee was a small concession to being woken so early. “Feels like I only just fell asleep.”

  “We let you stay there as long as we could.” Rebecca handed him a steaming mug. She was already dressed in a wetsuit, a thick jumper and a puffy winter jacket.

  “Sorry.” Fin sat on the side of the bed. In the past, nothing in his life ever felt so bad that a good night's sleep could not, in some way, help. Now, he never woke feeling refreshed.

  George left the other wetsuit on the bed. “No need to be sorry, we had to wait anyway and you needed the sleep.”

  Fin brought the wetsuit into the bathroom and struggled into it. When he returned to the bedroom he sucked his gut in until he could cover it with a jumper.

  George had breakfast started in the kitchen. He made fluffy pancakes with coconut milk, drowned them in golden syrup and topped them with sizzling rashers, straight from the pan. “That, guys, is the last of the flour.”

  Fin’s eyes rolled. “So good. Have you any idea how they make golden syrup?”

  “Not a clue,” George said. “We think we’re so sophisticated, but individually, we're not. You take a baby from a thousand years ago and it’ll flourish in our time. But it would no more know how to refine golden syrup than we would. I’ve never fixed anything that broke, I always just threw it out and bought another.”

  Fin swallowed a large mouthful of pancake. “Once things settle down, the libraries will be the new town halls.”

  “Put that out of your head for now.” George pushed his plate away from him, no longer hungry. “We’re a long way from that, Fin. We need to survive. We won’t slip too far, but you have to wonder what the country will look like when this ends. If most of the medical staff were infected… The capital burned. We have already lost so much. I can’t shed a tear for the culture, art and history now gone, not when so many homes across Ireland will sit silent in the wake of this plague.”

  “I’m probably eating better now than I ever did before this happened,” Rebecca said, trying to change the topic and lift the mood.

  Fin passed her his pancakes. “I’m not really hungry.”

  “You have to eat something,” George said.

  “Coffee will do just fine. You’re like my mother before school,” Fin said as George busied himself packing their bags. Each one was provisioned with two litres of water, a box of cereal bars and a flask of packet soup. Fin boiled the kettle twice and filled two hot water bottles. He gave one to Rebecca and put his beneath his wetsuit and jumper. She followed his example and both of them were sweating before they left the house.

  They crept through the garden to the shore. Frost-crisp grass crackled underfoot. Small waves lapped against the sand in a slow, sleepy rhythm. George went into the shed and passed them out two paddle boards. Then he brought out two sun-weathered life vests. Fin’s hot water bottle made it a tight fit.

  “No prints on the sand.” George was apprehensive about leaving any sign of habitation. Once he saw them to the water’s edge, he brushed their passing off the sand. There was no sound beyond the waves lapping over the shore stones. “It’s the quiet that gets me,” George whispered. His breath clouded in the cold morning air. “I never imagined the end of the world would be so silent.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?” Rebecca asked.

  “I’ll be fine. Don’t forget, I made it by myself before I joined you. Another day of it won’t do me serious harm. I grew up here, I know most of the long forgotten pathways.”

  Fin hugged him. “Don’t go getting morose on us.”

  “Says the very man who wrote his girlfriend a last will and testament.”

  Rebecca hugged him next. “You go handy on the drink.”

  “I need to sleep and it helps with the dreams. Besides, nothing aids sneaking like a hangover. You’re tender on your feet when the head rings like a Sunday church bell with every step. Keep your radios handy in case of trouble.”

  The water in the bay was still, a ghostly reflection of the moon shimmered on the surface like slippery, molten mercury.

  They lay the boards down, sending ripples echoing ahead of them. Fin walked into the shallows, the cold went straight through the rubbery material of his wetsuit. It took him a few attempts to gain his balance and keep it on the board. A light breeze forced him into deeper water and just like that, he was committed. Indifferent to the cold, George waded out to hand him a paddle. Reaching out for it nearly caused Fin to tumble into the water, but George steadied him.

  “I surfed a bit when I was younger, but half the fun then was falling in,” Fin said. “I’m terrified of doing that now.” He could already feel the strain on his core as he tried to keep steady. “How are we meant to stand on these?”

  “With proper training and knowledge of currents.” George let go of his shoulder, but stayed close in case he needed help.

  “We have neither of those things,” Fin said.

  “Well then, you best hope that the kayak is in good working order. Now guys, I’m going for a nap. Stay safe out there.” George tied provisions to the back of their boards. His drone was wrapped in numerous protective layers to keep it dry. They had hammers easily accessible in the bags over their shoulders. There were knives there too. Taking into account the weight of his kit, Fin imagined falling in, his clothes absorbing water, weighing him down. Even the hot water bottle was a dead weight. If he went in, he would slip through the water and out of life.

  They practiced in the shallows until they were confident enough to head out far enough that George became a silhouette on the shore, watching them paddle out of sight. When Fin got the hang of it, it felt almost meditative, ghosting beneath a glistening canopy of stars, marred only by a few scudding clouds. Those clouds will drift over the country, what will they see?

  “Do you know what I need now?” Fin said.

  “What?” Rebecca was too focused on keeping her balance to look at him.

  “A good space documentary, there’s nothing like it for making your big problems feel like nothing.” His voice carried through the clear night.

  Rebecca pulled her paddle from the water and looked up, her silhouette serene. “I’ve never seen a night sky like it before. Must be the lack of light pollution.”

  The implications made Fin wish he could keep paddling away from the horror behind. Wind struck them the moment they rounded the headland. Both of them went down to their knees to regain balance. They made for the shore, not daring to wade in the shallows; considering the infected body they had found, there was no telling how many of them were hidden in the silt.

  Rebecca shined her torch along the beach. It took a few minutes, but they found the hidden kayak. Nothing came down from the fields and gardens. As far as they could see, the only infected was the one they had left there. Fin landed, while Rebecca kept him in light, his shadow elongated and gangly on the dunes.

  The kayak was completely deflated. The dead man was motionless, a wedding band on his bloated fingers. Fin picked up a stone and threw it at him. The moment it touched the infected, it reacted, closing its arms in a sweeping motion, reminding him of a venus flytrap. Any sympathy he felt vanished. That person is gone. This is a vector, a parasite.

  “How does it look?” she asked.

  He did not answer. Instead, he hunkered over a large rock, bent his legs, back straight, and cradled it in his arms and hefted it up. Hunched by the weight, he quickly brought it near the infected and dropped it on its head. The zombie disappeared beneath the sand, its grasp loosening on the molting crow corpse in its hand.

  Fin was left in darkness when Rebecca moved the beam of her torch off him and shined it up the beach. The light reflected off the eyes of multiple infected cresting the dune. Invigorated by their presence, some started weeping. The soft sand gave way beneath their feet and they tumbled down. Fin ran
back to the water and the safety of his board.

  “What the hell were you at?” Rebecca kept her light on the infected.

  “The kayak is useless, there’s not a bit of air in it.”

  “What you did was unnecessary and foolish. We agreed we wouldn’t go out of our way to kill them. We don’t allow ourselves to be provoked. We plan our moves.”

  “What if a child was wandering along that beach? How was I to know there were more in the field?”

  “The only reason we’re talking now is luck, if not for the sand, you’d be dead. Do you feel like a big man now? You act the fool on your own time, but if you ever bring a weeper’s attention down on me by association again, we’re done.”

  “You were on the water.” Fin was not up for the argument, he knew she was right.

  “You’ve alerted the whole shore of our presence. We’re not far from George. Think before you act.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Rebecca sat on her board and very carefully took her radio out of her bag. “George.” She raked the land with her torch. More infected mounted the dunes, they did not blink away the light.

  “How many are there?” Fin felt rather small as the crowd grew steadily larger on the beach. They were in deep water but he still worried he would feel the vice-like grip of their hands grab hold of him and drag him under.

  George took a few moments before answering. “Are you okay, do you need me?”

  “You weren’t lying about going for a nap. We’re at the kayak, it’s useless. I’m staring at nearly a dozen infected. Only a few weepers though. The rest are slower zombies.”

  George did not respond.

  “Are you there?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t ready for them to be this far yet. I have to go, I’ll block up the back fences while it’s dark.”