Black Flag | Book 1 | Surviving The Scourge

by Klapwyk, Dave

  He looked down at his phone and read Blender’s response.

 

 

 

 

 

  Joe put away his phone. The hushed tones from the couple in the back were getting louder.

  Suddenly the bus screeched to a stop. Joe lurched forward, hitting his head on the seat in front of him. His phone slipped out of his hands and slid under the seat in front of him. He looked up, rubbing his head. A pickup truck had blown through the lights, and the bus driver had stopped just in time. The truck, however, had swerved to avoid the bus. It had suddenly stopped due to an immovable concrete hydro pole, and its hood was now puffing out black smoke. Thunder crashed somewhere in the distance, and the sky was getting ominously darker. People were running frantically to get wherever they were going. He wasn’t sure if they were trying to beat the storm or for some other reason.

  “End of days...” The hipster-looking guy in the back had now graduated from hushed tones to a louder voice that made Joe turn towards him. The hipster had a neatly trimmed beard and a flat tweed cap.

  Joe looked at him quizzically. “Saturday is the end of days?”

  The bus suddenly moved forward, sending his phone sliding to the back of the bus.

  The hipster’s young wife seemed a little overweight. Her short-cropped blond hair was messy, and her cheeks were flushed. She appeared out of breath as she chewed ravenously on a granola bar. It took great effort for her to bend over and retrieve the phone. Her husband looked right at Joe.

  “This is exactly what the Book of Revelations talks about, the seven angels with the seven plagues.”

  His wife reappeared with Joe’s phone in his hand. “Got it!”

  She then waddled down the aisle using the seats for support and handed Joe his phone. It was then that he noticed that she was pregnant.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking the phone from her, “When are you due?”

  “Still got another two weeks.” She slowly returned to her seat.

  An ambulance siren sounded in the distance. The bus slowed down again as a firetruck passed the bus on the right, its horn and siren wailing.

  Joe watched as it turned right at the next intersection. “They’re going the wrong way. That truck is behind us.”

  Hipster ignored the comment. “This is it, your final chance to put your hope in God.”

  “I think I’ll go to the grocery store first.” Joe reached up and rang the bell for the next stop.

  “Yea, that’s where we’re going too. Got to get the necessities – flour, coffee beans, and pickles.” He reached his hand out to Joe. “The name’s Kevin, and this is my lovely wife, Monique.” She was using both arms to help support herself as she made her way to the door. She nodded to him.

  “Nice to meet you both. My name’s Joe.”

  They all got off the bus and stepped back into the windy dark day. The rain had just started as they waited to cross the street to the grocery store. Ray’s Grocery was not a very big store, nor was it the cheapest. But it was the only one in the neighbourhood, and Joe didn’t want to endure the 45-minute bus ride to the chaos known as downtown.

  Ray’s was an old grocery store that was the anchor store for a small strip mall. It was usually a little busy, but today was different. The parking lot was almost full, and many people had their carts loaded up and were running to their cars. They appeared to be running from more than just the storm.

  “Wow, this is looking intense,” Kevin said, his eyes wide.

  “Guess we better get going before Armageddon,” Joe replied. The three of them crossed the street as fast as Monique could manage.

  When they reached the other side of the street, Kevin looked over to Joe. “Armageddon is a place, not an event. It’s the location of the final battle.”

  “Well, the final battle for pickles and coffee may be upon us,” Joe laughed.

  At the same time, all of their phones went off. It was the emergency alert system alert.

  Joe clicked his phone off without looking at it. “What’s going on?”

  When Kevin pulled his phone out, a baseball rolled out of his pocket. He stared at his phone, clicking frantically, reading and scrolling.

  Joe ran to grab the rolling baseball. “Well, what is it? A big storm coming? Because I could have told you that.” He handed the ball back to Kevin. The rain and winds were beginning to pick up.

  “A state of emergency was declared,” he mumbled, still scrolling and reading. “There have been major incidents of social unrest around the country.”

  Monique stretched her back. “So, it wasn’t a state of emergency when millions of people die of the Scourge, but it is when people start protesting and looting?”

  “Millions?” Joe asked.

  Kevin looked up from his phone. “Don’t you watch the news, man? This Scourge, killed a million people, just last week. This is the plague from Revelations 6.”

  “I think I missed that Sunday School class. What’s with the baseball?”

  “I’ve had it since I was a kid. I went to a Blue Jay’s game and got it signed by…”

  He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. He was interrupted by the crack of gunfire coming from the direction of Ray’s grocery store. That’s when everything got worse. People began streaming out the front doors. Shoppers were being trampled. Carts were overturned, punches were thrown, vehicles crashed into each other, and there was a lot of screaming. As if on cue, the rain and winds turned into a full-blown storm.

  “Okay, so no groceries today,” Joe said. “We need to get out of here.”

  Monique began to breathe rapidly. Kevin put his hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  She was breathing so heavy she could hardly speak. “I’m . . .fine . . .just need . . . a second.”

  “How far to your place? Can you guys walk?”

  “We live about ten blocks south on Pochatok Street.”

  “I’m just another two blocks south of that. I’ll walk with you — strength in numbers, right?”

  “We normally walk it, but she’s a little too pregnant to be walking. That’s why we took the bus.”

  The rain was beating down, the thunder was getting louder, and the winds were making it all worse. Smoke was beginning to billow from a broken window in the side of Ray’s Groceries, and the parking lot became clogged with soaked panicked shoppers trying to escape.

  Joe ran down the sidewalk, grabbed an empty shopping cart and ran back to the couple. “What if she rode in this?”

  “Okay, but not too fast. The sidewalk is bumpy. I don’t want to knock the bun out of her oven.” Kevin took the cart from Joe and pushed it over to his wife.

  Monique was finally catching her breath. “Do I get any say in the matter?”

  “Do you have any better ideas?”

  “Fine, but not too fast.” Kevin put his baseball in his coat pocket, and he and Joe both awkwardly helped her into the cart.

  “Everything is going to be fine, and we are only borrowing this cart. I will return it tomorrow.” Kevin insisted.

  Joe started to walk down the sidewalk. “I think that’s the least of Ray’s problems.”

  Indeed, the world around them appeared to be falling apart. It looked like there might have been a power interruption due to the storm, and the traffic lights were out. The intersections were an apocalyptic parking lot, and much of the traffic was clogged up.

  They started their trek south. Kevin pushed Monique at a decent pace against the rain and winds while Joe made sure the way was clear. The rain began pounding down harder, and lightning struck close to their location. The cart clacked over the sidewalk cracks sounding like a train going over a road crossing. There was a lot of honking and yelling and sirens. The rain splashed down,
and the wind whipped large raindrops at their faces. Behind them, more shots rang out, followed by shouting and cursing.

  Joe turned around to look and then stopped walking. He stood with his mouth and eyes wide with disbelief. Kevin saw his astonished expression and stopped as well. The three of them looked back down the road.

  There were five or six guys with baseball bats, golf clubs and one had a rake. They were walking up to cars, yelling at the occupants and then putting stuff into bags.

  “Are they robbing people?” Monique asked.

  Joe couldn’t believe his eyes. How could things go downhill so fast?

  “Isn’t it a little early in the apocalypse to be pillaging?” asked Kevin, stopping the clacking cart.

  A large heavily bearded man with a white bandana and a black skull on his head was yelling at the occupants of the car closest to them and then suddenly swung the rake at the car smashing the window. A baby crying could be heard in the back.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Joe could see Monique reaching into Kevin’s pocket and pull out the baseball.

  The three of them were about 15 metres from the rake guy. It was about the distance from the pitcher’s mound to home plate. It might have been luck, skill, or the strong will of a soon-to-be mother. Whatever it was, it was a very accurate pitch. Monique grunted as she lobbed the ball towards Rake Man. They all watched as the ball soared through the air. Rake Man turned as the ball smacked him right in the nose with a large crunching sound that could still be heard over the loud rain crashing to the pavement.

  They all watched, frozen in place with disbelief. Monique was the first to break out of her spell. “Remember how I said to go slow…I changed my mind.”

  They both sprang into action. Kevin resumed pushing the cart, but this time faster.

  “Go, go, go!” Joe yelled. The rake guy was holding his nose, and blood was now pouring on to the pavement.

  The three of them ran as fast the cart would go without tipping through the torrents of rain.

  The cart sounded like a speeding locomotive as it clacked noisily over the cracks in the sidewalk.

  Kevin was running with a look of fierce determination on his face. “That was my lucky baseball!”

  “Who cares about your stupid baseball. If it was so lucky, why are we running for our lives?”

  “Because you threw it, and the lucky ball hit its mark!”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in luck. Just God’s will.”

  Joe turned back to see if they were being chased. He could see Rake man wipe his bloody nose, and start running towards them. He had an angry look on his face.

  Kevin and Monique were still arguing as they ran past a large transport truck stopped sideways on the road.

  “I don’t think it was God’s will that you throw my ball away.” He was running and panting heavier now.

  “Maybe, but you have to admit, that was a good shot.” She pushed her wet blond hair out of her eyes.

  “Only if you want to make that gardener from hell mad.”

  “Hey, he was tormenting that family, and I had to do something.”

  Joe glanced behind them and saw their pursuer was gaining on them.

  “Hey Kevin, you wouldn’t happen to have a lucky bat, would you? We need to slow this guy down.”

  They passed the truck that had merged with the hydro pole, that they had seen from the bus. There were a couple of officers at the scene. Joe yelled at them as they got closer. “Help, a big guy with a rake is trying to kill us!”

  The officer was bent down, looking inside the pickup. He looked up just as the three of them ran by, the grocery cart clacking down the sidewalk.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s going on here?” It was Officer Mike, the policeman that had chased the hatchet guy out of Building Two.

  The three of them didn’t stop, but Joe pointed behind him at the rake guy. By the time Joe looked back again, Mike had his gun pointing at Rake man. Behind him, the other five pillagers were now gathering.

  Kevin was breathing heavily and had slowed down. “I think that cop is my neighbour.”

  Joe beckoned him forward. “Don’t slow down now. That cop might not be able to stop all of Rake man’s friends.”

  “No, it’s fine. We live here.” Kevin was bent over, trying to catch his breath. He pointed at the small red brick semi-detached house across the street.

  “Okay, I’m just down the street a bit. I’ll see you,” said Joe.

  Kevin reached out his hand. “Thanks a lot. Keep safe, and I’ll pray for you.”

  Joe shook his hand. “Okay, thanks. If you ever need anything, I’m in the Masterson Apartment complex, Building One, Room 501.”

  The two of them helped Monique out of the cart. “You stay safe, and I hope things get back to normal before your bun is done.”

  “Thanks.”

  Joe ran down the street towards his apartment.

  He could hear the sound of sirens and more thunder. The rain was finally starting to slow down. He thought he heard a shot being fired from the direction of Rake man and his gang of unruly pillagers.

  He ran faster.

  Panting, he finally arrived at his apartment. He struggled to catch his breath.

  I probably should try to get into better shape.

  In front of Building Two, he saw a crowd had gathered. Some with umbrellas, while others stood beneath a large sycamore tree. The rain and wind had somewhat subsided, but Joe was now thoroughly drenched.

  An ambulance was parked in front of the building with its back doors open. A stretcher came out of the building with someone on it. He walked closer to try to see who it was, but the body was covered in a white sheet. Two paramedics wheeled it towards the back of the waiting ambulance. Laurel followed behind, his hand over his mouth and his whole body shaking as he cried.

  “Laurel, what happened?” Joe yelled as he jogged over.

  Laurel paused and looked up at Joe, who was now standing beside the ambulance.

  “It’s Harvey. He’s…just…gone.” He managed to say between sobs.

  The paramedics expertly folded the legs of the stretcher in and pushed the stretcher with Harvey on it into the back of the ambulance.

  “How?”

  “It was…the Scourge…it…he just…his heart…it happened so fast…and…”

  “I’m so sorry, Laurel.” He wasn’t sure if he should hug him or put his hand on his shoulder or say something else. He felt too awkward to do anything.

  The paramedics jumped out of the back of the ambulance, shut the doors and climbed into the cab.

  Laurel and Joe stood on the wet road watching the ambulance drive away. Water from the leaves of the large sycamore dripped down around them, making big blooping noises as they collided with the large puddles below. Joe could barely hear the sounds of the commotion across the street or the small river of water and garbage flowing down the side of the road into the sewer. He barely noticed the sounds of various sirens going off in what sounded like many areas of the city, and he ignored his phone notification dinging in his pocket. All he heard was Laurel crying as the two of them stood there on the edge of the sidewalk. He knew the pain Laurel was feeling. He still felt the pain from when Jenny died. It wasn’t as sharp and visceral as when it happened ten years ago. It was more of a dull ache now. It still hurt. For a moment, the painful memories pushed their way back to the surface.

  They stood in the rain for a long time.

  Chapter 6

  The notification he had ignored while standing with Laurel was from Blender. Both of Blender’s parents were sick, and he wasn’t going to be able to come over that night, but promised to come over the following Saturday. That was fine with Joe as he needed some time alone with depressing music and a bottle of cheap rye.

  The following week was long. The virus seemed to be hitting full force, and over 50 people from his three buildings had died. There were protests and unrest all over Canada, the United States and around the w
orld. Joe wasn’t sure or cared what exactly they were protesting. There was talk of possible terrorist attacks and wars brewing in the Middle East and Indonesia. The president of the United States hadn’t been heard from in three days, and rumours were that he was dead. The food supply chain was breaking down, and many stores and businesses were overrun or looted. There were reports on social media that a vaccine was being developed in China, but the mainstream media had so far been unable to confirm the stories. He hadn’t seen Laurel since the day Harvey died.

  He sat in his apartment on a cloudy Saturday afternoon, debating if he should venture out to find a grocery store that hadn’t descended into chaos. His apartment was a double apartment. When he first got his job working for Hank Masterson, Hank agreed to pay him minimum wage but got free rent in an apartment of his choice. A month later, an elderly WWII vet named Roger Waxworth in the apartment next to him died. When Joe went in to clean it out for new tenants, he discovered that the kitchen pipes had been slowly leaking for a long time. Roger had been cleaning up the leaky water but had never got the leak fixed. When Joe tried to replace the kitchen plumbing, he discovered rot and mildew had crept up the walls. He had to rip out most of the kitchen cabinetry and part of the wall. On the other side of that wall was Joe’s apartment. This happened just as Hank was having Building Three built. He didn’t have any money to fix the wall and kitchen, so he told Joe that if he fixed it, he could have the apartment. Joe ripped out the wall, put up a beam for support and expanded his apartment to now include Roger’s. His old apartment remained much the same, but he tore apart Roger’s apartment so that it was a spacious open rec room. It had two large long old windows, a big leather couch, large screen television with surround sound, a pool table, a wet bar and a dartboard. Unlike his tiny sanctuary in the basement, his open-concept apartment was expansive and roomy.

  On television, a music video showed scantily clad young women with too much make-up dancing and singing. The pop music from the video rang out on his surround sound speakers.

  His phone rang, and he muted the television.