The Purple Haze

by Gary Richardson

  Eventually it was Yvonne who broke the silence. She couldn't stand it, it made her feel too intense not talking. “Why haven't we seen any other survivors?” she asked.

  Mike shrugged his shoulders. “Can't tell you for definite. I guess in all the confusion, people wouldn't have known to stay away from the dead. Anyone with a loved one would try and talk to them and wouldn't catch on to what was going on until it was too late.”

  “But what about any people who were alone? We can't be the only ones in the whole town that survived this.”

  “We're probably the only ones with guns, Yvonne,” Mike said, “at least I hope for our sakes that we are.”

  The group continued to move on. The field around them was usually very green, a place for families to come and enjoy picnics or walk their dogs, but due to the sunlight being softened by the fog, it looked quite dull and depressing. Picnic benches could be seen sitting empty among the grass, and the group also passed a small play park with a slide and some swings, but all looked eerily still, the laughter and excitement of once playful children now forever silenced. They listened to the air around them as they moved, and noticed no wind, no birds. The scene only added to the intensity of the situation for Yvonne.

  “How much further is it?” she asked, sounding like she had been spooked.

  “It's not far,” said James, beginning to tire now of her constant questioning, “once we are through this field we have to go down another residential street, then it's at the end of that street.”

  “Can we please go a bit faster?” she said.

  Martin turned to her and put his hand on her shoulder in a comforting way. “We'll be fine, okay? Don't worry,” he told her.

  Yvonne didn't find much solace in his words, but the touch against her shoulder made her feel safe. She tried to shrug it off, but after all this time as a single, independent woman, she had been thrust into a strange world where she knew she needed these men to keep her safe. She could fight if she had too, but alone she knew she would die. She looked at each of them and tried to figure out who she could rely on in a tough situation. The only ones she felt she could trust were James and Mike, but she also knew Martin would help her, if she needed it.

  The group kept moving forward and after a short amount of time, they were clear of the field. They went through a wooden gate at the end of the foot path and found themselves in suburbia again. The street they were in was newly built and was just one of several streets, part of a mass building project for affordable housing. They surveyed the street before they moved on, but they couldn't see anything that was a cause for concern. They pressed on, knowing that the community centre was close. Safety was in their reach. Feeling this, the group seemed to move quicker, and then they saw a road sign directing them to the community centre.

  Their moods were instantly lifted. They were thinking out loud, asking questions like “how much food will they have?” and “will there be soldiers to help us?” They approached the community centre with such optimism, and then finally it was there. All at once, their hearts sank. There was nothing. The building was simple and purpose built, but it looked closed up and locked. There were no supply trucks providing food and no soldiers with weapons to defend them. James was the first to speak out. “No, this can't be it.”

  The group moved forward, James moving faster ahead of them. He was hoping that his family would have come here. It was what had kept him going. Although he knew them to be illegal, he had provided his wife with a police scanner shortly after he took up his position in the service. James knew that after the fog hit, if she was able to she would have scanned the frequencies and picked up the same emergency message he and Mike had earlier that day. He got to the door and tried it. It was locked. He moved to the windows, looking through each one as he went. He saw nobody, neither living nor dead. His mind raced and he started to feel something he wasn't used to feeling, the feeling of panic. “Where the hell is everyone?” he shouted. “They should be here! The radio said to come here!”

  Mike tried to calm him down. “It was recorded and playing on loop. Somebody could have set it going and been killed by those things.”

  “But they should be here!” James shouted.

  The group looked uneasy. They had noticed James' had been, for the most part, in a bad mood, but they had put it down to the fact that he, as a policeman, was having a hard time working armed with criminals to survive. “Who should be here?” asked Yvonne.

  “My wife and kids,” he replied. “They have a scanner that could have picked up that emergency message. They would have come here.” His voice was shaky now and his lip trembled slightly. They could see he was trying to keep himself together.

  “I'm sure they're fine, mate,” said Mike, “but we need to get inside.” He pointed up in the air in a gesture to make them all listen and alerted everyone to the moans coming from somewhere they could not see. The fog was still quite thick and something was moving in it, the moaning probably attracting more.

  James looked around. He took a deep breath and held it for a second, then expelled it. He looked at the faces of the other survivors and saw they were concerned both for him and the fact that there was a possible mass of walking corpses coming for them, probably attracted by his shouting. “Let's get inside,” he said. James pulled a lock tool from a pocket in his flak jacket. “Trade secrets,” he said, and went to work picking the lock. The moans grew louder, and it was clear that there were more of them. The group were nervous, but it didn't take James long to get the door open. As soon as it was, the group filed inside and James closed the door behind him. Almost as though the click of the door was the sound of a switch turning on inside him, James was back on the ball. He quickly glanced around the entrance hall and took in what was around them. There was a doorway to a kitchen, a doorway to an office and a doorway to a hall, big enough to hold about one hundred people. The windows were all fitted with Venetian blinds. “Close all the blinds,” he ordered.

  The group sprang to life and began closing the blinds. Gaz went into the office and pulled the draw string on the blind, but before it closed he saw a small group of shambling figures just on the edge of the fog. He couldn't figure out if they were coming towards the building or just wondering aimlessly. He pulled the string and the blind closed. He went to the hall were the rest of the group had gathered.

  The hall was big and rectangular. Luckily it had no windows, but was lit by sky lights in the ceiling, and the floor was lined with plastic chairs similar to the sort that would be found in a primary school classroom. The group sat down and listened to the outside world. The moaning was quiet but still audible. Some of them looked nervous.

  “Don't worry,” said Martin, “They can't get in here. As long we keep away from any windows, we should be okay.”

  The group sat for a while, not knowing what to say to each other. All of them had been hoping for some kind of aid relief when they got here, and their spirits were crushed, but none of them felt it as much as James. He felt lost inside. He probably shouldn't have let himself believe it, but he was looking forward to seeing his family here. He felt stupid for believing it and inside he was beating himself up. He didn't know what to do.

  They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the moans outside, no one knowing how close the creatures were or how many of them there were. The only thing giving them hope was that they hadn't heard any scrapings against the windows or doors. They circulated water and food amongst themselves, but still nobody spoke. By the time anyone did speak, it was nearly night fall and the room had grown dim.

  “I'm going to take a look around,” said Martin, “see what might be useful to us.” He stood up to leave and went back into the entrance hall. He looked around and decided that the kitchen was the best place to start. It was small but had plenty of cupboards. He checked them all and found nothing of great use. They had plenty of tea and coffee but no bottled water. He tried the taps and to his amazement they worked. He tried the
water and it tasted fine. He moved to another room, this time the office. There was a computer in there on a desk and a couple of chairs. He searched the desk but again failed to come up with anything. He sighed with disappointment and went back to the hall.

  The rest of the group were still sat in their chairs, some eating, others just sat still. Dave had been sitting still for a while and went to move. When he did he felt the pain in his leg, and he winced slightly, but managed not to make any noise. The pain was different now, feeling prickly as opposed to just throbbing, but still with the occasional stinging sensation as it rubbed against the material of the bandage. He used his crutch and got on his feet. “I'm going to find a toilet,” he said. He hobbled away from the group and looked around. He noticed a door with W.C. on it and went in.

  The window in there had no blind, but was frosted and too high for anything to look through it. It was still light enough for him see himself in the mirror. He moved closer and examined himself. He looked pale and his skin was clammy. He leant his crutch against the sink and while leaning against the wall, he carefully removed his bandage. He got to the end of it and moved it away, and when he saw his leg he had to stop himself screaming. The redness of the blood seeping from the hole had been replaced with a pinkish coloured puss, and the blisters that had formed immediately around the bite had burst. However, as he rolled his pant leg further up, he saw that the blisters had spread, and were now up past his knee and half way up his thigh. His leg looked like one of those things outside. He didn't scream, he just quietly sobbed into the sleeve of his boiler suit.

  The rest of the group were still in the hall. “What are we going to do now?” asked Colin

  “Well,” replied Mike, “it's getting dark now so I think we should stay here tonight, figure out what we are going to do in the morning.” He looked at James, expecting a reaction from him, but he just sat there, staring into space and not responding to anything.

  “James?” Mike said. James didn't move. “James?” Mike repeated, this time moving to shake James. James snapped out of his trance immediately, making Mike recoil and Yvonne jump. He looked at them with a slightly bewildered look on his face.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I was just saying, I think it's a good idea to spend the night here,” Mike said, “We’ll figure out what we are doing in the morning.”

  It took a second for James to respond but he nodded and said, “Yeah, good idea Mike, yeah.”

  The whole group looked at each other and exchanged concerned glances. It was strange to see the man that led them this far, and who had handled himself against the dogs so well, in this state. “Are you all right?” asked Colin

  “Yeah,” James said, “yeah, I think I'm going to get some sleep.”

  He stood up and walked away, looking dazed. He moved to the corner of the hall and took off his gun and flak jacket. He laid the jacket down as a pillow and led down, staring straight up at the ceiling. The rest of the group looked at each other not knowing what to think. At this point Dave walked back into the room. He saw the look on everyone's face. “What's the matter?” he said, wondering to himself if they had heard him in the toilet crying.

  “We're going to stay here tonight and try to figure out what to do tomorrow,” said Martin.

  “All right then,” said Dave. He looked over at James, lying there staring up at the ceiling. “What's the matter with him?” he asked quietly.

  “He thought his family would be here,” Martin quietly answered, “it's hit him hard. I just hope he's still got a few bright pennies up there, otherwise he could endanger the rest of us.”

  “Stop what you’re saying!” said Mike, a forceful tone in his voice, “Yes, he's struggling right now, but wouldn't you? He has no idea what's happened to his family.”

  “Neither do the rest of us, but we aren't spacing out like a mental patient,” said Gaz. “He almost got us all killed, shouting off like out there.”

  “Look, he will be all right,” Mike said, the force still in his tone, “just let him sleep for now. After what he's done for us he deserves it.”

  Chapter 10

  The following morning, Gaz woke up to find James was standing in the corner of the hall. He watched for a moment, waiting for him to move, but he didn't, he just stared into the centre of the hall. He tried to figure out what he might be looking at, but he couldn't see anything of interest. He looked around and saw that the rest of the group was still sleeping. He rubbed his eyes and got to his feet. He stood for a moment, still watching James, but he hadn't moved, he was just looking out from the corner, staring into thin air. He slowly walked over to him.

  “Hey?” he said, sounding a bit cautious. “Are you all right?”

  James didn't move his head or his body. He just blinked and replied, “Yeah.”

  Gaz didn't know how to respond. He felt uncomfortable around James because James was a police officer with a gun. He had training that he couldn't match up to, but on the other hand, from where he was standing it looked as though the most physically capable member of the group was now losing his mind.

  “Can I get anything for you?” Gaz asked.

  Again, James just blinked and answered. “No.”

  Gaz took a step back and turned, walking back to the rest of the group. He crouched down next to Martin and carefully shook him. “Martin?” he said, shaking his arm.

  Martin stirred and rolled over. He looked up at Gaz. “What is it?”

  “Something is seriously wrong with James. Look at him.” Gaz pointed over to James still standing in the corner. Martin sat up and looked. He could make out James' face in the dim light. He had no expression on his face. He was standing there staring, his posture stooped in a slouch not to dissimilar to that of angst ridden teenagers.

  Martin reached over and grabbed Mike's arm. He shook it lightly and Mike sat up with a start, making Gaz and Martin jump and causing the remaining sleepers to wake up. Mike looked around looking panicked, and looked at Martin. “What? What is it?” he asked, the tone in his voice matching the expression on his face.

  “Calm down,” Martin said, “it's nothing bad.”

  Mike took a deep breath and looked around. He clocked James in the corner. “What's he doing?” he asked Martin.

  “That's why I woke you. I don't know what's wrong with him.”

  Mike got up and walked over to James. “James?” he said, but James didn't answer. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I'm fine,” replied James, not moving a muscle except to speak.

  “You don't look it,” Mike said. He looked at him closely. He couldn't see any marks or wounds on him. Physically he looked fine. “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing,” said James.

  “Then look at me, man!” shouted Mike, shaking James by his arms. James jolted and looked at him, his expression suddenly looking surprised. He looked around the room at the others. They were all looking at him with deeply concerned looks on their faces. He straightened his posture and looked back at Mike.

  “Sorry,” he said, “I'm sorry everyone, I'm okay now.” He stepped around Mike and walked back to the group.

  “What's up, James?” Yvonne asked him.

  “I'm okay, Yvonne.” He looked around at everyone. “Seriously, I'm fine.”

  “You freaked us all out, man,” said Colin

  “Well, I've been thinking.” James said.

  “What about?” asked Martin.

  “I don't want to be here,” James said.

  Gaz laughed at this. “Yeah, neither do we, but we've got no choice in the matter.”

  “I know what you're saying, but I can't be here. My family is at home, I've got to get to them.” James knelt by his sleeping area and began checking his equipment.

  Mike stepped into James' eye line. “What are talking about?”

  “I'm going to go and find my family,” James said, now putting his flak jacket back on and zipping it up.

  “We can't get through the streets
again, you saw what it was like out there,” said Mick.

  “You're not coming with me,” James said. He looked at the group and back at Mike. “I've taken you as far as I can. I don't know where to go from here, and I can't go anywhere without knowing what's happened to my family, and I can move better on my own.”

  “Bullshit, you won't stand a chance out there on your own!” Mike said sternly.

  “You're not going to talk me out of it. You all have a gun, you have ammo and you have food. If I can make it to my house and find my family I’ll be fine. If needs be, I can break in and get provisions from my neighbours' houses if needs be.”

  Yvonne stepped forward. She looked at James through welling eyes and spoke through trembling lips. “Don't leave us,” she said, “We need you.”

  James smiled and forced a laugh. “No you don't.”

  He stood up and moved over to her. He hugged her lightly with one arm, and then walked over to the door. Mike walked quickly after him and stopped him. “Come on, James, you know we can't do this without you,” he paused a second, then realised he was trying to reason with James for his own needs. “I can't do this without you.”

  James put a supporting hand on Mike's shoulder. “I saw how you handled yourself against those dogs, you can do this.” James removed his hand and left the hall heading towards the main entrance. He stopped, looked around the room and headed to the office, Mike following like a loyal dog all the way.

  “Think about it, will you?” Mike said, almost sounding desperate.

  “What do you think I was doing in the corner of that room all that time?” James said, looking more and more like the alert and able officer he had done the previous two days. “Do you know what it's like not knowing if your wife and kids are safe? It's killing me, Mike. I've barely slept the past two nights. I need to know.”