Black Flag | Book 1 | Surviving The Scourge

by Klapwyk, Dave

  “You scared me!” she said, throwing her cap at him.

  He deftly caught the hat with his sword and handed it back to her.

  “M’lady seems to have dropped her hat,” he joked.

  She threw the hat into the racks of clothes.

  They heard footsteps from somewhere in the building.

  “He’s still here,” said Camille, “What are we going to do?”

  Tyler put his sword down and laid his hand on the chair. “We could just stay here for the night. Maybe they’ll be gone by morning.”

  “But it’s cold in here, and I don’t think your little candle is going to keep us warm.”

  There are plenty of clothes here we can use for blankets, and we can keep each other warm.

  She looked up at him with a glare.

  “No, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, I just meant that we could use our body heat…I mean with our clothes on, and...”

  “I’m just kidding, again,” she laughed. “You’re so easy.”

  “Yeah, well I can picture Tank ripping my arms off when he finds out I looked at you funny.”

  “That’s possible,” she said, “We’ll make a bed – no an area to sleep – no, make that rest with our clothes on while we recite the Lord’s Prayer.”

  He shook his head and gathered up some clothes.

  Once they were settled and comfortable, (10 centimetres apart), and had blown out the candle, they lay in the dark talking quietly.

  “Do you think things will ever go back to normal?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, I don’t think so.”

  There was a brief moment of quiet before Camille spoke again.

  “I’m still wearing these silly gloves,” she said.

  “You mean the apocalypse gloves?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “The apocalypse gloves. Haven’t you seen any apocalypse movies? For some reason, they always wear fingerless gloves during the apocalypse.”

  “You’re right, they do, don’t they?”

  “So now you are really ready for the apocalypse.”

  “Do you think this is the apocalypse? Is this the end of the world?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not. Most of the people we both knew are gone, but we’re still here. It must be for a reason.”

  “You won’t leave me, will you?” she asked.

  “No, Camille, I’ll stay with you.”

  “Good.”

  She moved her hands over and clasped his hand. She could feel his warm skin with the ends of her fingers.

  “We’re going to find my brother tomorrow, right?” she asked.

  He squeezed her hand. “Yes, we will, but you can’t tell Tank I touched your fingers.”

  Chapter 37

  As Camille and Tyler slept in the theatre, Pascal was attempting to leave the hospital with the baby. It was dark and late, and he figured the streets might not be the safest place to be in the middle of the night. He turned around and went back inside.

  “Effy!” he yelled.

  She turned around. “I told you, you are going to have to care of that baby, till her mother is better.”

  “Yes, I know that, but I would rather go to the C3 in the safety of daylight. Is there somewhere here we can sleep?”

  She looked around to make sure no one was looking. “Come with me.”

  Effy led him down the hall and up two sets of stairs. Pascal noticed that the second floor was much colder. The light from the green exit sign lit their way as they walked down the hallway. Partway down, she pulled out a set of keys and unlocked a door that said Dr. Ematha.

  “Dr. Ematha is no longer with us, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed his office. There should be a heat vent in the ceiling. They are all closed up, but if you open in back up, it will be warm for you and your baby.”

  “She’s not my baby.”

  “Okay, I got to go. Be sure you’re out of here in the morning.”

  She shut the door and left.

  The room was nicely furnished with a leather couch, a large desk, a large bookshelf, and a fridge and microwave. He flicked the light switch and jumped when it worked.

  That rarely happens anymore.

  The baby started crying. He rocked her, but it didn’t seem to help. Pascal put her down on the couch and looked up at the ceiling for the vent. He had to stand on the desk, but managed to get the vent open and was relieved when warm air started blowing into the room. The baby was still crying. There was a small sink with slowly running water. He filled his water bottle and drank. The baby was still crying. He found the can of powdered formula and followed the mixing directions on the back. He held the baby in his arms and tried feeding her the formula. She took a sip, then spit it out and started crying again.

  Now what?

  He looked at the directions again and noticed the last instruction, which said to warm it up. He put the bottle in the microwave for 20 seconds, then took it out, shook it and tested the formula. It didn’t taste to bad, and he hoped it was the right temperature. The baby was still crying.

  He sat again on the couch with the baby in his arms and put the bottle to her lips. This time she took it. She contentedly drank while her blue eyes stared straight up into his. Her fingers grabbed on to his baby finger and squeezed. She released her grip and then squeezed again. She repeated this over and over as she drank. It felt like she was squeezing with every heartbeat.

  “Your kind of cute for a baby,” he said out loud, “but I’m still giving you back when your mother is better.”

  He looked up at the bookshelf. Most of the books were medical books. There was a book on Advances in Cancer Research, another was the Nord Compendium of Rare Diseases and Disorders. There were other books about bone diseases, bowel disorders and nerve diseases. He wondered what would happen with all this knowledge now that most of the population was dead.

  I hope there are hard copies of all the medical research because I don’t know if we’ll ever get the internet back.

  Suddenly the baby spat the nipple out and started crying.

  Now what?

  He rocked the baby and tried feeding it the bottle again, but she kept crying.

  He hoisted the baby in the air. “What do you want?”

  The baby burped and then spat up. The milk spittle landed in his face.

  “That is the second time I have been spat it in the face today. You’re worse than that llama!”

  He fed her again, but the next time she stopped eating, he tapped her on the back till she burped.

  Before the bottle was finished, the baby started to nod off.

  Early the next morning, he woke with a start, wondering where he was and what the annoying sound was.

  He realized where he was and the annoying sound was a baby who lying beside him, but no longer sleeping.

  What’s that horrible smell?

  He lifted the baby up and smelled it. “That’s nasty!”

  He noticed that there was a package of diapers inside the door.

  Thank you, Effy.

  He had never changed a baby’s diaper before, but after almost gagging, he managed to put a clean diaper on her.

  Pascal went downstairs and asked about Effy, but was told that her shift had ended and she had gone home. He wondered if the doctors and nurses were getting paid.

  He asked where the baby’s mother’s room was and was directed to Room 399. When he approached the bed with the baby in his arms, the mother started crying and tried to get up. One of the nurses came running over. “Ma’am, you can’t get up, you’re still sick.”

  “Let her hold her baby,” said Pascal firmly. He gently laid the baby in her arms.

  The tears streamed down the mother’s face. “What happened? Who are you? How did I get here? Why do you have my baby?”

  He told her how he had found her in the cabin and brought her to the hospital.

  “I’m Monique, and this bundle of joy is Olivia, and we would like to thank you
for all you have done.”

  “Your welcome. My name is Pascal, and she’s a nice baby when she’s not crying.”

  Monique smiled weakly. Sweat ran down her face. “I’m so tired…” she said as her head nodded forward.

  “She needs more rest,” said the nurse, “you need to take your baby.”

  “It’s not my…” he stopped when he heard Monique mumbling something.

  “What did you say?” he asked and leaned in to listen.

  “My husband Kevin, he’s…” she drifted into unconsciousness.

  The nurse took Olivia and handed her back to Pascal. “She’s going to need a couple of days to get over her fever. You can come back tomorrow to visit.” The nurse shooed him out of the room. He carried Olivia to the stairwell to go upstairs to the office, when a voice yelled out from behind him, “Sir! Sir, you can’t go that way, the exit is this way.”

  “But, I just…”

  “Sorry, but that stairwell is off-limits,” said the nurse.

  As he reluctantly left the hospital, he saw two snowmobiles pull up to the emergency doors. A large man drove one of the snowmobiles that had a trailer with a body in the back. The other snowmobile carried a man and a little girl.

  Chapter 38

  Earlier that day, when Tyler and Camille had gone south to find her brother, Joe, Tank, and Kevin got on their snowmobiles and headed North. Kevin said that when he was on his honeymoon with Monique, they had gone to the parliament buildings. There was a monument in front of the parliament buildings that featured a flame in the centre. He had told Monique that his love for her was like the eternal flame that had been burning non-stop since it was lit over 50 years ago. She kissed him passionately. Kevin had a passerby take their picture with the parliament buildings in the background. He always carried the picture in his wallet. Kevin told Joe and Tank that if Monique was in Commerce City, there would be a good chance she might be at the flame monument.

  On their way into the city, they passed an abandoned roadblock. As they got closer to downtown and the parliament buildings, they started seeing more military vehicles and jets fly by overhead.

  They drove past some ostentatious mansions and saw a young girl with an unzipped coat and no hat or mitts. She was running into the road, waving her arms. The three snowmobiles stopped, and Joe was the first to get off and run to the girl. Kevin came up behind him while Tank stood by his snowmobile with his rifle out.

  “Help, please,” said the girl, who Kevin thought might have been a little younger than Ayesha. “We’re being attacked!”

  The girl was frantic, and tears streamed down her face.

  “Okay, okay,” said Joe. “Slow down and tell me what’s going on. Who is being attacked?”

  She was still catching her breath from running. “My brother, his friend, and our neighbour are still in the house, and there are a bunch of people with guns that are surrounding the house. I think they are going to kill everybody.”

  “What’s your name?” asked Kevin.

  “Ivette,” she said, still sniffling.

  “Well I’m Kevin, this is Joe and that big guy back there with the gun is Tank.”

  “Can you help us?”

  Kevin looked at Joe, but answered before Joe gave him affirmation. “Yes, where do you live?”

  They went back to tell Tank.

  “What?” he protested, “We only have one hunting rifle. How are we supposed to take on a group of armed invaders with only one gun? If we stop to help everyone, we’ll never find your wife.”

  Ivette looked up at him with her big tear-filled, brown eyes. “Please, Mister Tank, you have to help us.”

  “Come on,” said Joe, “You can finally do some shooting with your new gun.”

  “Fine, but we do this my way.”

  They all nodded.

  “How far is your house?” he asked.

  “It’s two blocks that way.” Ivette pointed across the yard she had run from.

  “We leave the snowmobiles parked here and walk.”

  The neighbourhood featured large houses that were homes to the rich and powerful elite of Commerce City. Large old maple and elm trees hung over expansive yards separated by what were once well-manicured hedges and ornate fences. As they cut across a yard with a frozen decorative fountain, Tank asked, “How did you get out of the house?”

  “My brother shot at them when they attacked,” Ivette answered, “and then told me to run away when they were distracted. I think they still saw me, but they didn’t shoot.”

  “How many attackers and what did they have for firepower?” Tank asked.

  “What?”

  Kevin interjected. “Do you know how many people attacked your house and if they had guns?”

  “I don’t know, maybe four or five. I know some of them had guns, because they were shooting at us and the window in my room broke.”

  “How much further?” asked Tank.

  “It’s that house up there.” She pointed to a large stone and brick house. It didn’t have a fence or hedges around it but was surrounded by large oak trees.

  “Joe, can you shoot?” Tank asked.

  “Sure, I used to shoot a little when I was younger, but I’m not a crack shot or anything.”

  “Kevin, you stay here with the girl. Joe, you’re with me.”

  They walked closer to the house and could see two men at the front of the house. Each man stood behind a tree with a rifle. They could hear gunshots from behind the house.

  “Looks like we have two here at the front and at least three at the sides and back, they may all be armed.”

  “And we have one gun,” said Joe, “those aren’t very good odds for us.”

  “We have one gun with a scope in the hands of a trained professional,” he replied, “and we have the element of surprise.”

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “I need you to lay down under this tree and act injured. I will climb up this tree. When he comes over to check on you, I will jump down and kill him with my knife. We’ll take his gun and even the odds a little.”

  “So, I’m the bait?”

  “You make it sound bad.”

  “Won’t he see you in the tree, and what’s to stop him from just shooting me?”

  “Unless he’s trained, he won’t look up, and he won’t shoot someone who is injured.”

  “What if he’s trained?”

  “Then we’re screwed.”

  Five minutes later, Joe reluctantly lay on the ground, groaning.

  “Louder,” whispered Tank from his tree branch. “He can’t hear you.”

  Joe yelled out, “Help!”

  A large man in a red and black checkered jacket lumbered over. He pointed his gun at Joe. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

  “Please,” Joe moaned, “I’m hurt, can you help me?”

  The man stood there for a moment, then lowered his gun and walked over. When he was two steps from Joe, Tank dropped out of the tree. Joe looked up and saw the man standing with a shocked look on his face. Tank’s hand covered his mouth as he fell forward, Joe saw a knife sticking out the top of his head.

  He cringed at the sound of Tank removing the blade from the man’s skull. Joe picked up the gun as Tank dragged the body behind the tree.

  Joe looked at the gun in his hand. “How does this thing work?”

  Tank came back with a box of bullets. “Here, put these in your pocket.” Joe took the box. “This a lever-action rifle, like in the Wild West. After you fire, you have to pump the lever down and then back. That will load the next bullet in the chamber so you can shoot again. If you run out of bullets, load them one at a time in here.”

  “Got it. What now?”

  “You stay behind this tree and count to 60, then fire your weapon in their general direction…”

  “Wait, am I the bait again?”

  “Well, yes, but at least this time you’re armed. When they move towards your position, I will move in behind them
and pick them off.”

  “But won’t they be shooting at me?”

  “Yes, but don’t stick your head out. Just fire in the air once in a while.”

  Tank took off fast, adding to the collection of tracks in the wet snow. Joe waited behind the tree and counted. As he reached 30 Joe smelled smoke in the air and wondered what was burning. At 60 he took a deep breath and poked his head out. He saw a man in a blue winter coat facing away from him, looking at the house. He put the rifle snugly against his shoulder and used the sights at the top to aim at the man’s head. He pulled the trigger and ducked back behind the tree. He could hear the man shout as he worked the lever to put the next round in the chamber. Joe could hear the man yelling, but there was no return fire. Joe peeked out from behind the tree and saw the man walking towards him, holding his gun with one hand. There was blood on his shoulder.

  I hit him! The bait bites back!

  There was another shot and then silence. He chanced another peek and saw the man in blue, face down in the slush. He waited, and suddenly a large man was standing beside him. Before he could take a shot, Tank grabbed his rifle, “Whoa there, John Wayne, don’t shoot. I’m a friendly.”

  “Sorry, but did you see that? I hit him!”

  “Were you aiming for his head?”

  “Yes, and I just missed.”

  “Next time, aim for the centre of his body mass. There’s more room for error. If you hit him anywhere, you’re going to either kill him or wound him. If he’s wounded, you can usually get closer for the kill shot.”

  “Where are the rest of them?”

  “I think they’re in the house, which is now on fire. You need to stay here in case they come out the front. I’m going in the back to flush them out. Go to the next tree and fire at any bad guys that come out.”

  “How will I know the difference between the bad guys and the guys we are trying to save?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe don’t shoot the women and children and ask the others if they know Ivette?”

  He ran off behind the house. Joe stood beside the tree with his gun pointed at the door. There was smoke coming out of some of the windows, and he could hear yelling and shouting and sporadic gunshots from inside.