Weep (Book 1): The Irish Epidemic

by Brady, Eoin

  Despite that, she offered them a welcoming smile. Fin could not bear to match it. He turned away and saw the dirt they had walked into the formerly pristine carpet. “Sorry about that.” How fast old etiquette was forgotten. She did not seem to care. “I’ll clean that up.” He left the sitting room, wet a cloth at the sink and brought it back to clean the mess.

  “I’m afraid I can’t be moved,” she said. “Not without oxygen or an ambulance. Haven’t gotten a delivery of fresh tanks in ages.”

  “What’s the matter?” Rebecca asked.

  “Pulmonary fibrosis, caused by smoking, I think, but could have been a hundred little things. You know you always think you’ll be fine, but then you end up old and get stuck with the bill. Well, no, you wouldn’t know yet. Bit of advice, run that bill sky high, let future you worry about it.”

  “That’s terrible advice,” Rebecca said.

  Noreen laughed, a sound like somebody trying to clear stubborn phlegm from their throat. “I know.”

  “Is there anything we can do for you?”

  “A new set of lungs would do the trick, but sure, while you’re at it, I’ll take a twenty-year-old body.” She winked at Fin.

  Rebecca laughed along with her when Fin’s face started glowing hot with a blush.

  “Will you settle for a cup of tea?” Fin asked.

  She nodded and he went to join George. The kitchen was empty. He found him out back, sitting on an old swing. The rusted joints squeaked when moved, so he sat still. Fin took the swing beside him. They watched her rain-saturated clothes weigh down the washing line, barely moving in the wind. Apart from fear and the infected, the only other constant seemed to be the mountain in the distance behind the house, veiled in clouds. How many scenes like this one have played out within view of Croagh Patrick? He felt a reverence knowing these were Noreen's last moments.

  By the time Rebecca came out to see what was keeping them, they still had not said a word to each other. George tore tufts of grass from the lawn.

  “She doesn’t really know what’s going on,” Rebecca said. It sounded like an accusation.

  Fin thought it was a gift to keep her in the dark. “What harm? If she knew, she would just panic. What good would knowing do her? If you had to leave this world, wouldn’t you rather go imagining it was only getting better for those that follow?”

  His enthusiasm left him when he heard an inquisitive mewling from beneath the shed. A jingling bell announced a proud little cat as it sauntered towards them. Fin crouched down to entice it over and scratched behind its ginger ears. It arched its back and went straight for George, wrapping its body around his legs.

  “I used to think that I’d love to live forever,” Fin said. “To see what new discoveries and inventions were sure to come. Imagine how sickened you’d be if you died just before they could upload consciousness to the cloud, or something? But you’d also have to live through unforeseen horrors.”

  Neither of the others spoke, so he continued. “We have the chance to send Noreen off without worry. Her family are likely dead.”

  George pushed the cat away from him with the toe of his boot.

  “Let her dream of finishing that book in the morning. Worry about her washing and look forward to giving out about the oxygen tank delivery being late.”

  “She has a right to know,” Rebecca said. “Are you suggesting we just kill her?”

  “She’s dead already. No?”

  “Then tell her, give her a choice. Let her make the decision whether or not to take the tablet,” Rebecca said.

  “And what if she says no? You’re asking a person to end their life on the basis of what a couple of strangers are saying. Could you leave here knowing her oxygen machine will fail and she’ll be left gasping for air until she dies? We can only hope that she will be alone and the infected don’t make it to her beforehand.” Fin stopped speaking when he noticed that George was crying.

  “Who are we to decide how her life ends? We’re not the final full stop, or grim reaper,” Rebecca said.

  “Tell me I’m wrong. Give me a solution. There is nobody we can take her to. There are no more hospitals. Galway’s gone. Dublin is far worse off than we are here. What help can we provide other than mercy? If we risk anything else, then we all die. The electricity is failing. Is she religious? If so, she won’t be too keen on killing herself.”

  Rebecca paced. “This isn’t fair. It shouldn’t be up to us.”

  “We have more of a right than the infected. They’ll do it without remorse, compassion or kindness. Then she’ll be up walking and could take another life. You’re right. It’s not fair, we shouldn’t have to. But we must,” Fin said.

  “Guys. I can’t do this.” George stood up slowly as if testing the strength of his legs, to see if they would carry his weight. “I’m going home.” He handed Fin the pistol Burke had given him. “I’ll just say goodbye. Give me a minute. Please.”

  Fin had not thought that he would be the one left to kill Noreen. When it had been the three of them, it felt easier somehow. Not like killing at all. Just helping. Same as making a cup of tea.

  The tea! He jogged back to the house and was about to turn the stove on when he heard sobbing coming from the sitting room.

  “I tried, I’m so sorry, I tried. I tried.”

  Fin crept from the house. The last thing he heard was Noreen’s comforting shush. Fin grasped the suicide pill in his other hand. Giving her the tablet felt like a kindness, the gun was a wicked weight in his other hand. There would be guilt if he pulled the trigger. Is it cowardice that I’d sneak her the pill instead of using the gun?

  “This is yours, Rebecca,” he said. He handed her the suicide pill. “I gave mine to the man on the mountain. I wish we had one each just in case. Maybe somebody in my family or Solene might need it. I’d sooner this than a bullet, and those are as rare as these tablets.” He knew he was making her culpable, spreading the blame. It was her choice now, the pill or a bullet.

  She knew it too, her face contorted in disgust. George came out of the house and left them with a wave.

  “Wait!” Fin called. He ran to catch up with him and handed him Burke’s pistol. George took it without a word and then followed the path along the coast back to the boat.

  “Helping others just ends up taking from us,” Rebecca said. “This is the last time. Give her the pill. I still think she should know though.” Rebecca did not protest further.

  “I say let her go in peace,” Fin said. “I’ll kill her but you can tell her.”

  She took her hat off and rubbed the short bristles of her hair. She sat down on the swing beside him. “I hated my job. Having to put on a fake smile every day and pretend to give a shit if somebody didn’t get enough jam for their toast in the morning. I remember acting like the world had ended when a woman told me that her room didn’t have enough of a sea view. I thought I was going to get fired, I was clearly taking the piss out of her. But no, she was happy that somebody saw things her way. I have a calendar in my bedroom with the number of days I had left before I handed in my notice. I’d work that job every day for the rest of my life over this. I hate what we’ve become. We’re only really getting to know each other now, but we’re not who we used to be.”

  The cat stood over its food bowl. Fin went in search of something to feed it. He emptied the whole tin of meaty chunks in gravy out for her. While she ate, he removed her bell collar. That’s all I can do for you. I hope my cats are okay. What must they be thinking? Do they wait at the top of the stairs for Solene or me to return? Are they hungry? Are they scared?

  Rebecca went in to talk with Noreen while Fin set about making tea on the gas stove. Once back in the sitting room, all need for haste disappeared. They spent the day there. Fin and Rebecca made dinner in silence. Most of the food in the fridge had spoiled and needed to be thrown out. There was a large freezer in the shed, but once the power went out, that food would be useless. Whenever the cat wanted inside it would scratch at
the door. Fin checked for infected before letting her in.

  They tried several times to tell Noreen about what was going on in the country, to ease into mentioning the suicide pill. They did not know where to begin. Remembering the radio in the kitchen, Fin nearly tripped over her oxygen tube to bring it in and turn it on. Let her find out that way.

  He twirled the dial looking for a station to listen to while the three of them ate in silence. It was mostly static. She did not seem perturbed by the warnings that played on a loop. Fin kept scrolling through the FM and AM bands. Nobody was broadcasting live.

  “I think I have it easier than yous,” Noreen said, when she put her plate aside.

  “Are you religious?” Fin asked.

  “I was when I was younger. Not so much now, but I’ll pray the odd time as insurance.”

  Fin smiled. “My dad used to say that. I knew he didn’t come up with it himself. Would you pray for us?” Fin asked awkwardly.

  Rebecca drew the curtains back to let in the dying light of the day.

  “Do you want to finish your book?” Rebecca asked.

  “No dear, I’ve had better. I’m ready to sleep.”

  “I’ll make you a cup of tea,” Fin said.

  Fin and Rebecca stood shoulder to shoulder while they waited for the water to boil. “I’m not sure if crushing the tablet up and putting it in the tea will ruin the poison,” Fin said.

  Rebecca turned to him and smiled; her cheeks were wet with tears. “Poison is poison, no? It’s not going to get any better for her.”

  Fin poured water in and they watched the tea diffuse into the mug. He left the pill in its packet. Rebecca took his hand in hers. “Did you think we’d be doing this when we watched the news break in the hotel?”

  “Honestly, all this time, I’ve been hoping you slipped a little something into my drink on your last night.”

  “We’ll have a drink after this, I promise.”

  Fin set the cup of tea on the coffee table beside Noreen. The tablet, still in its wrapper, lay on his sweaty palm. “This will help. It’s –”

  “I’m ready to go. I’m sorry to put you both out like this. I couldn’t do it by myself.” She took the pill, peeled back the foil and let it rest in her hand. It absorbed all of her attention. Fin offered her the cup of tea. She took a mouthful. “Oh, that’s very sweet. I won't forgive you for that.” She laughed and coughed.

  Rebecca sat on the arm of the chair and put her hand on Noreen’s. Fin knelt on the floor by her, ready with a bottle of water should she need it. The oxygen machine whirred in the far room.

  “Look after George will you? I know he tries to not let it show, but he’s soft-hearted and all of this will weigh heavily on him.”

  “You know him well?” Rebecca asked.

  Noreen looked surprised. “He’s my grandson.”

  “He never said a word,” Fin said. He turned pale remembering the conversation they had on the swings, as he tried to strong-arm them into agreeing to kill her.

  “My family knew the risks in leaving. They were down for Christmas. Most of them call elsewhere home. They wanted to go, but I told them it was stupid. They weren’t going to let anybody leave, didn’t matter if they had foreign passports, they were here and that’s where the rest of the world wanted to keep them. Honestly I thought I was being overcautious. Only George stayed. He knows this land. He knows where to find food, especially when the weather turns favourable.”

  “Does he know you know?” Fin asked.

  “Oh, he probably thinks I’m a doddery old woman. If that was the role I needed to play to keep him here, then I wouldn’t have had qualms with blowing bubbles to sell it. I knew I was done when the news stopped playing. Do look out for each other. I’m sorry this happened on your watch. I am glad he has friends like you.” She lapsed into a fit of coughing.

  “What’s it like?” Fin asked. Curiosity got the better of him. “Knowing you’re going to die.”

  “We all know our days are numbered. I could ask you the same question. You’d have as easy a time answering it as I do. Beneath the wrinkles I’m still in my mid-twenties.” She rolled the pill between her thumb and forefinger before quickly popping it in her mouth. She swallowed with a grimace.

  After Noreen fell asleep, Fin took the book from her lap and closed it. The bookmark fell out, but it did not matter. “Sleep softly and dream of nothing,” he whispered.

  Rebecca finished his little prayer. “Be at peace.”

  39

  Weep

  The return walk to Burke and the boat seemed to take much longer. Before leaving Noreen’s house, they wrapped her in blankets, closed the heavy curtains and locked the sitting room door. A temporary tomb, until sense returned to the land. She would rest surrounded by photographs of her family. Fin only noticed Rebecca’s absence when he climbed over a metal gate and she was not behind him. He ran back, fearing what he would find. She just stood in the middle of the field. Every step lost returning to her was agonising. They were exposed, a target in the open. It would only take one weeper to cry out and they would have nowhere but the frigid water of the bay to escape to. When Fin reached her, she shook her head, answering a question he had not asked. He took her in his arms and hugged her until she was ready to continue.

  “I want to go home, Fin. Can we just go? I’m finished.”

  “Yes. We’ll get George and go to Achill.” He held her hand and started walking. At first he had to pull her along. “Burke and the others are taking the children to Clare Island. We’ll continue from there to Achill. We’ll be at your place soon. I picture your bedroom covered in dolls and horrible shades of pink.” He joked, even though he felt sick.

  Rebecca shivered violently. She threw up, hunkering down on her knees. When she was finished vomiting, she collapsed onto her side. “I can’t do it, I can’t. I don’t want to.” Her eyes were glassy, tears streamed down her face.

  Fin used the sleeve of his jumper to wipe vomit from her chin. He placed his hands on her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. “We can do this, Rebecca. Take a few deep breaths.”

  She grabbed a fistful of grass in one hand and Fin’s jumper in the other. “My family are dead.” Saying it, she let out a silent anguished cry and curled up.

  Not here. Fin scanned the perimeter of the field. It was steep, there was no road frontage, so the infected would have difficulty reaching them. He lay down in the wet grass beside her, becoming invisible to any onlookers. He stroked her short hair while she sobbed.

  It started snowing. Large flakes fell from yellow-grey clouds. “I just need a minute,” she said.

  “Take as long as you need.” He was not sure if he was doing the right thing. In situations like this, are you supposed to rush them, keep them moving and their minds occupied? He did not want to force her beyond her limits.

  “I don’t think Solene would be too pleased with you rubbing my head.”

  Fin’s touch faltered and Rebecca laughed. “Given the circumstances, I don’t think she’d mind. Now if I started popping your spots or blackheads, then the dead wouldn’t cause me as much dread as Solene would. Whenever I was sick, my mother used to rub my head, it was better than any medicine. Head rubs are literally the only way I know how to deal with other people’s emotions. Did well in a test? That’s a head rub. Lose a loved one, hard luck, have a head rub.”

  “I can’t wait to meet Solene.” Rebecca tried a smile, her lip quivered and she closed her eyes. Fin listened to her breathing slow to a calmer speed. “I’m sorry, I feel stupid.”

  “Don’t. You were due a breakdown, I’ve already had one. I’ll have another when we get to the island. When you’re ready, we'll go.”

  She got to her feet. “If that were the case we’d never leave this field.”

  The cold got deep into his body, making his movements slow. He just wanted to sleep, fall into unconsciousness and be oblivious to everything. Would that be a bad death? Letting the snow form drifts around you. Letting
its slow, numbing bite take your life as it masks the horror beneath a pristine white veil. There are no good ways. Fin was working off of fumes. He could have stayed there and watched the snowfall until dark, but, numb and listless, they continued.

  “I can’t remember the last time snow stuck and didn’t turn to slush,” Fin said.

  “Before the epidemic it would have been a rare treat if it stayed. Now, it’ll only make our situation worse.”

  Already the peak of Croagh Patrick was white. Malachy would not be able to leave until it passed.

  Climbing over gates and walls took more effort than it should have, as if his body was telling him that it was done. Noise on the road made them duck down and move towards the hedges for cover. With fear came a wave of adrenaline, which made him lithe and nimble. It did not sound like survivors, but he was not willing to check. They hid until the noise went off in the direction of Noreen’s house. It was little solace knowing they could not harm her now. They moved further off road, it was much safer, but doubled the time it took to get back.

  “So we go to Achill and then what?” Rebecca asked.

  “I think we hibernate. As much as I want to go home, I don’t think I’d make it out of County Mayo. Solene and my family are beyond me now. You guys are all I have at the moment. Go or stay. Nothing seems like the right choice. If you will have us, me and George could live with you.”

  “Of course. I don’t want you to leave. Why do you think he did not tell us that Noreen was his granny?”

  “I don’t know, but we have to find him. If she was his last living relative… Well, I don’t want to think of him alone right now.”

  “Had I known, I wouldn’t have let him leave. Back there I just thought he didn’t have the stomach for it and I resented him because he had the good sense to walk away before I could.”

  “He’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it.” Fin said.