by Brady, Eoin
“We’ll keep close to the shore and try to lure them away from you.”
“No, don’t. Are you mad? Think of the people that way in hiding. How many would you kill? Leave them be and head for the islands as planned. Be safe. I have to go.”
Fin’s one small act of vengeance seemed so peevish and inconsequential now. The howl of the weepers was taken up, infecting the silent night. Most people move by night. How many have I endangered? “Are you ready?”
Rebecca carefully put the radio away and slowly stood up on her board. He awkwardly regained his footing and paddled further away from the infected as they started wading into the bay. Weak waves unfooted the slower ones, the weepers only made it to chest height before the seabed fell away and they thrashed. They no longer needed the light to draw them, their own noises would lure the others out.
“They’re only going to wash right back up,” Rebecca said. “Hopefully they’re in long enough to do damage to their eyes.” Rebecca turned off her light, leaving them briefly nightblind. The infected sounded much closer than they were. “That’s motivation enough for me to try for the islands. Still want to do it without the kayak?”
“Seems like our only option,” Fin said. “Could you rest, knowing these are our neighbours? I don’t know about you, but my arms are in bits just from that little stretch of paddling. Will we make it that distance on the boards?”
“To Achill? No,” Rebecca said. “We could hug the shoreline and keep an eye out for a boat instead, it wouldn’t be impossible to find something, but we would have to contend with infected and the owners if they stayed at home. Alternatively, I’ve seen people kitesurfing in the bay. If we found the club’s container along the shore, we could be out to the islands in no time. Downside would be getting wet.”
“If we didn’t drown, then we’d advertise our location to everybody, we’d literally be flying a giant flag,” Fin said
“Remember you barely saw me this summer gone? I worked at a summer camp in Achill giving surf lessons. I’m confident on the board and I’m here to help you. I think we can do it. Nothing will happen while I’m here. We have life jackets and wetsuits. People would kill to be in this position. Let’s go, before the hot water bottles get cold.”
“Okay.”
“Look at the mountain,” Rebecca said, taking a rest from paddling.
They were far enough into the bay that they had a good view of Croagh Patrick. The lantern that had long been a feature of the epidemic in Westport was slowly descending the mountain, about a ten minute hike from the peak.
“What a horrible pilgrimage they’ve set themselves,” Fin said. He could only imagine the cold at that altitude, with no shelter, in winter.
“It’s probably one of the safest places to be right now,” Rebecca said. “The infected don’t seem so stable on their feet.” She paddled close to him so that their whispers would not travel far.
His eyes had adjusted to the moonlight. The few shadows and noises they encountered turned out to be seagulls. When the wind picked up, they had to stay on their knees for fear of falling in. Aside from that and fatigue, the trip was pleasant.
“What was your plan before this happened?” Rebecca asked.
Fin heard a shiver in her voice. “How do you mean?”
“What were you aiming for? Any big ambitions?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Survive, I suppose, though that hardly seemed so noble a few weeks ago.”
“I always knew you were a lazy sot.”
“Ah, I’m only joking. I had some notions, but I never did much, there was always tomorrow and more likely the months after that. I was on autopilot, always seemed to be an endless stream of time ahead. Best thing I had going for me was the girlfriend. Each year I would write a letter to myself on January first. I’d open it again on the last day of that year.”
“That sounds like a good idea. So like, things you wanted to achieve?”
“That’s it.”
“What was on the list for this year?”
He lifted the paddle out of the water to take a breather. It felt like the ocean absorbed all of his momentum and he soon came to a standstill. “If I’m being completely honest, it would have been the exact same stuff as I wrote last year. Likely would have just recycled the same letter for the next few years, with the addendum of ‘do better.’”
“That’s disappointing.”
He looked at her and laughed. “I know. Well no, that’s an exaggeration. There’s the disappointment when you read it that the big things were not achieved, but it makes you think of the small things that don’t make any list. Solene has been on it for a while now, and I had planned for her to be on all the ones to come. It was an annual affirmation that I still had hopes and dreams left unachieved. If ever I opened the letter and did not feel down about it, I’d either reached my goals or stopped caring. Both cases would require serious thinking. What about you?”
“I don’t want to die.”
“To the point. I wouldn’t mind living forever myself.”
“With each passing day it’s like I grow more numb to this world, like my mind knows that I’m already dead, my body just has not caught on yet. There are a lot of things I want to do that I’m only now realising. So much wasted time.”
“I called George out for being morose and I’m not afraid to do it to you too,” Fin said. “Take this upset and use it as motivation from now on.” I sound like my dad.
“So how did you meet Solene?” Rebecca changed the subject.
“Online dating app.”
“Ah here, I was expecting this magical romantic story. How did you introduce yourself? ‘Hi Solene, do you have any STDs?’”
Fin could not help but laugh. Rebecca chuckled at his response. “Excuse you, we’re a bit more cultured than that – we sent nudes first.”
Rebecca laughed. “I could stay out here with you all day. It feels like the world hasn’t ended.”
“This right here is what you’d call a lovely moment. It’s one of the first times my guts have not felt like an ice cream machine since this started.”
“And the moment’s over. Thanks for that image. Are you ready to continue?”
Fin nodded reluctantly. Long dormant muscles ached. Conversation lapsed as they focused on reaching the island. At one point, Fin lay down on the board to paddle with his hands, but ended up regretting it as the cool breeze chilled his wet sleeves.
“I definitely think I’ll have a six pack after this,” Fin said.
“We’re still in sight of the shore. I doubt your muscles have started hardening already.”
“That tense feeling in my gut is probably a hernia then.”
Rebecca pointed towards a smaller island in the distance, it was more of a sandbar. “Remember the night of the storm? The pier was packed with boats. It wasn’t much safer the next few days, but people went out anyway.”
Fin tried to make out shapes in the dawn light. It was a wrecked trawler, lying on its side. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“Better than waiting to die in an attic. There have got to be a few islands with boats, we can ask for a lend and go back for George, we could be on our own island before it gets dark.”
Clare Island was as much a feature of the bay as Croagh Patrick, though it may as well have been a mirage for any hope they had of reaching it on paddle boards.
“Haven’t seen any fires or lights on the islands,” Fin said.
“We wouldn’t from our house. If you don’t get a good feeling for them, we can land on an empty one and just send the drone up. Save us checking them all.”
“Do you want to find sanctuary here?” Fin asked.
“I won’t, not when I know how close I am to home. I wouldn’t be happy leaving either of you on the islands. Not when I know how good an option Achill is. I’m out here to find safe passage and a boat for the three of us. I don’t see sanctuary, I see a slow death. That island with the house on it seems promising.” She poi
nted off into the distance and turned her board to face it.
“Keep an eye out for boats,” Rebecca said. “None of us know how to operate the big ones, one with oars and a propeller would be ideal. Don’t even bother with the ones with sails, we might as well save time and just hang ourselves from the rigging, instead of heading out on open water in one of them.”
Sun tinted the horizon to the east. The mountain was clear of cloud. When it was bright enough the climber’s lantern went off and with it, the only visible man-made light in sight. They watched the climber’s slow, careful progress as the sun brought the SOS daubed on the mountain into view. Fin gave a wave. From that distance the climber melted into the environment, but he was uneasy that Rebecca and him were the only people moving. They were targets for curiosity and worse. “Do you think they can see us up there?” he asked.
“They’re not the only ones.” Rebecca stared straight ahead.
To their left, a large ship had run aground in the storm. Dead walked the shore and gathered eagerly to watch them pass. There were no weepers amongst them. Impatient, they walked into the surf. Their faces so human, Fin wanted to roar at them to go back. Rebecca was not interested in them. Fin followed her line of sight; she was staring at the island with the house on it.
The silhouette of a man turned away from the shore and made his way slowly back to the building.
“Did he look infected?” Fin asked.
“Can’t be sure, but he walked with purpose and we weren’t it, which seems promising.”
“If he was on watch and he saw us then we are his purpose.”
They hoped to meet others, but that welcome had made them uncertain. The islands and sandbars protected the bay from the worst of the waves, boats wrecked on smaller islands, leaving the shore completely bare. Weary and wary, they proceeded.
Few of the islands were inhabited. Maps of the area did not show them in great detail, most of the larger ones were organised into separate fields by stone walls. The man walked up the beach at a leisurely pace and disappeared into a two-storey cottage.
Whoever he was, he made no attempt to signal for them to either land or leave. There were no other figures on the island, but much of it was out of view. The house was hidden in a dell, away from the worst of the wind.
“What do we do?” Fin spoke softly, so his voice would not travel.
“Stay close to the water, be ready to leave in an instant. I wish we had practiced codewords.”
They stepped off their boards in the shallows and dragged them above the tideline. Fin was reluctant to leave the long paddle, but it would be of little use against the undead or the living.
“Hello,” Rebecca called up to the house. Nothing came running at them, but nor was a verbal response forthcoming.
“No dead,” Fin said.
“The living can cause us just as many problems.”
They did not walk any closer to the house, keeping near the water in case they needed to escape. “We’re not infected,” Rebecca said.
“Maybe they only speak Irish,” Fin whispered.
“Nobody only speaks Irish, but I’ll give it a go.” She walked along the beach to get a better look at the front of the house. “Níl muid tinn.”
The man stepped halfway through the door, ready to duck back inside. He covered his mouth with a finger, signing for them to be quiet and then beckoned them closer with the same hand. His other hand was concealed behind the door.
27
The First Death
They edged slowly up the beach.
“Try to keep your voices down. There aren’t as many weepers as there were after the storm, but a few still linger on the other islands. That must have been a cold trip out, why start so early? Afraid of being seen?” By his accent, Fin thought him a local.
“Only a fool draws attention to themselves these days,” Rebecca said. “We did not want to draw attention to our home. Those things don’t seem to do too well in the dark.”
“‘Those things’, that’s an awful harsh way of talking about the sick,” the man said. Fin was not sure if he was serious.
“I can think of worse,” Rebecca said.
He took a long pause each time before he spoke, as if calculating the consequences of his words. “If you had a place to stay, why come all the way out here?”
“To find people. We weren’t trying to sneak up on you, peek-a-boo is a bit taboo at the moment,” Rebecca said.
The man’s mouth turned up in a brief smile. If he had meant to disarm them with it, he failed. He stepped out of the house entirely and they could see his hands were empty. Fin relaxed. The man wore a knitted hat and a baggy green jumper that had been through the wash so often that it hung limp on him. “Do you know anything about the fireworks?”
“Diversion tactic,” Rebecca said.
“Is your boyfriend mute?”
“No, sorry mate, I used to work nights in the hotel on the quay. This, right now, is usually my bedtime. Combine that with the trip out, which needed a level of fitness far beyond mine and a constant lack of sleep, I’m just trying to stay standing,” Fin said.
“I’m starting to miss the eight hours myself. How are things on the mainland?”
“Do you have a television out here?” Rebecca took over again.
“I do, but I’ve a young one here too, so we mostly stick to cartoons and DVDs.”
“Is it only the both of you?” Rebecca asked.
“That’s not a question I feel comfortable answering.” His demeanour changed. “I’ll tell you what I tell everybody else that comes here. Clare Island has more space and more food, keep on paddling.”
Fin did not know how to respond to the hostility. The expression on the man’s face had not changed, but it suited his acerbic tone.
“Does it look like we’re going hungry?” Rebecca asked. Fin looked down and wondered if his gut showed beneath the life vest and the hot water bottle. “We’re not here for your food. Clare Island is our destination, we’re just here to check out the islands with our drone. The battery would not see it out and back from the mainland. You do know that there’s an army encampment in Westport House? Food is delivered and distributed to survivors. High walls, plenty of people and soldiers.” She emphasised the last word.
“It’s so safe and yet here you are.”
Fin felt his anger boil away the last of his civility, but he reckoned he would be the same if he was alone on an island during an epidemic, with a child to care for.
“I’m from Achill,” Rebecca said. “I’d sooner be back there. We tried the roads and walkways, but the infection spread too fast. The water seemed the safest route.”
“We’ll head on to the other islands,” Fin said. “Maybe see if we can find something sturdier than a surfboard for getting us to Achill.”
“You’re heading out further and then returning to the camp?”
“Well, back for supplies really,” Fin said. “And to pick up the rest of our group.”
The man mulled that over for a moment.
“Have you any weapons for dealing with,” he looked over his shoulder back into the house, “the trouble?”
“Honestly, we do our best to avoid it,” Rebecca said. “We couldn’t carry too much on the crossing.”
“Will you have tea or coffee?”
The question threw them.
“We’re just about to have breakfast. I can’t give you our boat, you’ll not likely get any of the living to part with theirs either, but there are plenty of spare ones around here. You’re welcome to some breakfast before setting on.”
“We won’t take any of your food,” Rebecca said “A mug of coffee would be great though. Thank you.”
“Consider it a trade. A bit of grub in return for news about what’s happening on the mainland.” He leaned away from the door and whispered, “Just remember there’s a child, don’t go into too much detail, please.”
The promise of warm food, a cup of coffee and a conver
sation went a long way to dispelling Fin’s suspicions. The child had a lot to do with that. Anybody still trying to keep innocence alive was okay in his book.
“Leave your bags outside.” He took one last look at the water behind them before going back inside the house.
“Fin, I don’t know how I feel about this.”
“It is odd meeting somebody that is not screaming their head off and trying to murder us, but I could get used to it. This is what we’re here for. We’ll go in, learn about the islands and hear if he can tell us anything about Clare. Then we’ll send the drone up.” The thought of heading back out on the water was not at all appealing to him.
“There are plenty of shipwrecks around here, he said so himself. Most weepers are gone too. We should find a boat and leave.” Rebecca sounded like she was on the verge of pleading.
“I’m not stepping a foot on any island until I’m sure. Weepers don’t just disintegrate, they turn into… zombies.” It was still a difficult word to say seriously. “Relax, you’re putting me on edge, that lad’s probably worried you’re thinking of eating him.”
“Oh to live in your world for a time. He never asked us if we were infected.”
Fin stopped. “If they’ve been out here the whole time watching movies, they might not know to ask.” He continued on the rest of the way to the house alone. Glancing back, he could see that Rebecca was giving serious consideration to leaving without him.
He approached the front door from an angle, so he could see if anybody was waiting for him. She has me paranoid now. After stepping inside, it took a few tense seconds for his vision to adjust to the dimmer light. The man hunched over the sink in the kitchen, filling the kettle. Downstairs had an open plan layout and was decorated with enough tweed, throw pillows and spare blankets to be excessively homey. A child sat at the table glued to her phone.
“Take a seat,” the man said.
“Mind if I join you?” Fin asked the child, but she completely ignored him. Conscious of how he looked in a wetsuit and life jacket, he took the sun-faded padded jacket off and left it by his chair. He took a jumper out of his pack; he was too self conscious to take off the wetsuit to remove the hot water bottle.