by T. A. Sorsby
‘I mean a new release. There were a few films nearing release I was looking forward to. Bet the cans are in some distribution centre somewhere, never gonna make it to the pictures.’
‘If the world gets back on its feet, I imagine there’ll be more than a few zombies movies getting made.’
‘They’d be documentaries, I guess. I’ll miss the comic book movies. Doubt those sequels will get picked up again after this.’
‘We’ll have to find the original comics.’ I sighed. ‘Never did get into them. Prefer a book. Apparently that means I don’t appreciate the artwork enough.’
‘It does.’ She grinned. ‘We got sent old comics in our care packages while I was on border guard. Had to learn to read slower, take in the pictures, or you’d burn through an evening’s entertainment too quick.’
‘They didn’t have TV in the mess, or whatever?’
‘There are only so many times you can watch the same library of donated tapes. Not even discs. Tapes - which you had to rewind the old fashioned way, no menus. Republic’s “standing army” is a joke. No wonder we outsource it all to professionals. They could probably afford satellite TV, we barely even had satellite phones.’
‘No wonder Conrad’s squad deserted. Why bother taking care of the country, if it never took care of you?’ I shrugged.
‘On the bases, you get bombarded with all these nationalistic posters, music, news, whatever.’ She waved her hand. ‘Even the tapes, I bet they sift through them before sending them to us. No movies about government corruption, or the horrors of war – not that I saw much horror on the border. That’s a recent addition. But I guess some of that sticks with some people.’ She frowned.
‘They decide to go career, buy into the whole “Voison the Beautiful” shtick. They forget about the lousy funding, the poor treatment – the fact we’re still conscripting for mandatory service despite being in the age of mobile phones and the Wireless.’ She continued, barely pausing for breath. ‘Territorial. More like Vestigial. Should have either disbanded or folded into the PMCs decades ago. At least they’re actually trying to help people, using all that money to save lives, not just pulling back to Orphen, protecting their own asses.’
She finally seemed to run out of steam. That must have been a long time coming.
‘Think it’s nearly time to head back?’ I asked.
‘I could use a drink. And a smoke. And some food.’ She added with gusto, ‘I’m sure I’ll get sick of barbecue eventually – but today is not that day.’
*
Forty Seven
Neville and Anita returned with diesel a few minutes later, Neville carrying a sloshing green gas can, Anita with the bucket and pump.
‘Found this in the back of one of the pickups.’ Neville said, indicating the big green can. ‘Truck was diesel, so I’m betting this will be. If you’re alright with that.’ He added, to Damian.
‘Gamble on it when we get home.’ He nodded, still half asleep.
‘What’s the plan then?’ Neville asked me, most of us gathered around the boot as Anita returned her kit.
‘Go home, drop everyone off, then you, me and Laurel will take Conrad his SUV back. Fingers crossed, it’ll be the most uneventful thing we ever do.’
‘Can’t seem to leave the front door these days without needing to shoot something.’ Anita seconded.
‘What do you want us to do?’ Morgan asked.
‘Gas up the generator so we can use the lift, and make sure Damian settles in. Might as well get started on those IVs.’ I said to Lucile.
‘I’ll do what I can.’ She nodded.
‘Bet that bag of meds will be worth its weight in gold when we get to the CDC,’ Neville said, ‘but it’s worth a lot more to us right now.’ He said, with a glance at Anita. ‘How’re you holding up?’
‘Sore. Itchy. Paranoid.’ She said, rolling her shoulder uncomfortably. ‘Looking forward to some industrial strength blood-cleaners and reading the info sheet on the antibiotics. You don’t have to be teetotal on all of them – some of them just make you a lightweight.’
‘Looks like I’m playing nurse and bartender.’ Lucile raised an eyebrow. ‘Let’s get the patients home then.’
I nodded, and without further ado, we got back into our vehicles and drove on, taking the near-enough straight line to Castle Towers. I was sure that Anita would be able to hear my grumbling gut over the engine – there was still radio silence from GCR, but I suppose Sachs would have his hands full dealing with the bodies.
‘Think I’m starting to get a fever too.’ Anita said after a few minutes driving. ‘Don’t feel too warm, but I’m sweating.’
‘You want me to take over?’ I asked.
‘I’m good. Don’t feel dizzy or anything.’ She added quickly, ‘Just getting…the, uhm…’ she paused. I think it was the first time I’d heard her afraid to speak.
‘Cold sweats.’ I finished for her.
‘Yeah.’ She muttered.
‘Aren’t they a later stage symptom of…?’ I asked, thinking of Dani lying there in her bed. I didn’t check her temperature, but she was soaked with sweat.
‘Yeah.’ She repeated. ‘Most of the time.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I saw patients at the hospital present with slightly different symptoms. Some had muscle cramps, or limb spasms. Migraines. All the infected ended up with a fever at some point. Most of them burned up, then went cold. Some skipped the burning, went straight for clammy and soaking.’
‘How can one virus present with so many different symptoms, in so many different people?’ I frowned. ‘I was never great at biology, but I thought they were pretty predictable?’
‘You heard the term “superbug” before?’ she asked.
‘Hospital illness, resistant to treatment.’
‘Yeah.’ Anita nodded. ‘They adapt. Mutate beyond the standard format. That’s what makes them harder to treat.’
‘Mutate.’ I dwelled on that word for a moment. ‘Like the dogs, and the runners. And the Ghouls.’
‘And fuck knows what else, yeah.’ She said again.
We drove on in silence until Castle Towers was visible between the rest of the buildings, then Anita began to slow down, dropping further back from Neville than our usual distance.
‘Quarantine me.’ She said, her words coming out strained. I turned to look at her, and saw her eyes were shining with tears. ‘If I go, I won’t take anyone with me.’
‘We don’t know you’re infected,’ I said, turning in my seat, ‘and until you drop dead in front of me, I will stand by the fact that you are not. How quick do they turn?’
‘I’ve heard it anything from an hour to two days, both from bites. Both from people. We don’t know how different it is from anything else. It could be carried weaker, or worse, another mutation or…’
‘Stop.’ I said, forcefully. So forcefully she actually stopped the SUV, but that’s not what I meant. ‘If you are going to turn, then you have my promise that I will do what has to be done. But I don’t think I’ll have to. Take your medicine, get some rest.’
‘But what if I turn, tonight?’ she asked, hands leaving the wheel to cover her face as her shoulders shook.
‘You ever see someone go from upright and talking, straight into one of those things?’
‘No…’ she answered.
‘Then you aren’t going to turn over dinner. If it makes you feel better, there’s a lock on the bathroom door in the Jamesons’ place. Sleep in the bathtub tonight if you have to – but I don’t think you’ll need to. Antibiotics. Bedrest. You will be fine.’ I said, stressing every word of the last part.
She wiped her eyes, and gave a great big sniff, her chest heaving.
‘Rough day?’ I asked.
‘You could say that.’ She nodded, putting us back into gear.
We pulled up outside to find nobody had missed us. Morgan and Lucile had taken the probably-diesel can down to the basement to gas up the generator, ra
ther than testing it out in Damian’s truck, which was more useful than the elevator.
When they came back up, Lucile gave us a smile.
‘Sounds healthy. Think we’re good, people.’
‘Right, we’ll get going while we’ve still got some light.’ Neville said, ‘You take care of them, you hear?’ he said, looking to Anita and Damian, not worried about his daughter for once.
‘Straight to the IVs when they’re upstairs.’ She said, taking the medical bag from me. ‘When they’re all set, we’ll get to cooking.’
That reminded me of the food we had in Damian’s ride, packed lunches we’d never eaten. Our food supply was healthy, but they could probably do with it at GCR, and might go a ways towards building some trust between us again, like them giving us their medical kit.
Morgan gave her dad a peck on the cheek before saying goodbye. She was about to head back inside, when Neville grabbed her, pulling her in for a hug.
‘Proud of you, sweetie.’ I heard him mutter into her ear.
‘Love you, Dad.’ She said back, hugging tighter. ‘Stay safe.’
She gave me and Laurel a wave too, before slipping into the elevator with the rest of them.
‘You’ve got a great kid, Neville.’ Laurel said.
‘She takes after her mother.’ He said back.
‘Hah!’ she barked a laugh. ‘Come on, let’s get going. I’m dying to eat.’
Neville and I took Damian’s, leaving Laurel to bring up the rear in the borrowed SUV. I got into the passenger seat while he topped up the tank, but I could smell gasoline even before that – took me a moment to realise the bucket in the back was giving off fumes. Damian wouldn’t be too pleased but if it kept his ride moving, he couldn’t complain. Still, we drove with our windows halfway down, letting the last of the drizzling rain in as we let the fumes out.
‘She’ll be okay, I think.’ Neville said. ‘If things don’t get back to normal. If they stay this way. She’s strong, stronger than I ever knew. She’ll be okay.’
I didn’t need to add anything to that. The quiet between us on the drive wasn’t strained or awkward – for a nice change, it was amicable. There wasn’t anything that needed to be said. Or so I thought.
‘How are you coping?’ he asked after a few minutes. ‘Her bike, left behind there.’
‘Anita said some staff got away in the ambulances, and they got separated. She could be anywhere, alive or dead. I think…’ I struggled, swallowing a lump in my throat, ‘I think I’ve done all I can for now. There’s nowhere left to look. She’s either alive, or she isn’t, but I…can’t find her now. Gone, either way.’
Neville reached across to squeeze my shoulder as I very intently studied the scenery out the window. He had to change gear, so it didn’t last very long, but the support was still there.
‘Got to concentrate now on getting everyone else out alive.’ I said. ‘We’ll set off for the VBC Studio at midday tomorrow. Sachs said they were moving out before sundown. Hard to tell when that’ll be based on today,’ I said, waving a hand at the passing storm, ‘but around five, I guess?’
‘Should give us plenty of time to make our introductions.’ Neville chipped in. ‘Could take them to the hospital store room if they wanted, or bring them by here if they’re short on food.’
‘Not sure about the latter, but definitely the hospital, if we need something to, I don’t know, earn their trust. But if it turns out the food situation is crappy wherever they want to take us, might be good to have a stash hidden. Selfish I know, just taking care of our own, but if that’s how we’ve got to survive, I’m sure the CDC will manage just fine without us.’
‘I’m with you. If it comes to it. My daughter might be able to hold her own in a fight now, but what’s a father to do if he can’t put food on the table?’
‘We’ll assess the situation, then make our call. Who knows? Maybe their safe zone is all roses and we’ll never have to fight another rotting corpse ever again.’
‘Unlikely…’ he said, drawing the word out. ‘But wouldn’t it be nice?’
The little neighbourhood around GCR was clear of all undead movement, until we came to the fence around the radio station itself, where a couple of strays had pitched up against the green mesh and were trying to chew their way through. They weren’t near the gate though, so we managed to open it up and just drive straight in – over the bodies of those we’d dealt with earlier. It was getting quite messy on the road, but I tried not to look at the gore. Or listen to the crunching.
Conrad was looking down on us from an upstairs window, but didn’t have a weapon in sight. He disappeared into the building as we parked up and got out. I knew Neville would be holding his gun behind his back, but Laurel wasn’t so subtle, standing half-behind the rear end of the SUV with her rifle out. At least it wasn’t pointed at the doors as Conrad came out to meet us.
‘Didn’t think you’d bother.’ He said, ‘Guess my estimation of people is a little off these days.’
‘How’s the face?’ Laurel asked, ever a beacon of diplomacy.
‘I’ll live.’ He said, just taking it on the chin. ‘How about your man? He pull through?’ he asked, seeming genuinely concerned. Probably didn’t want another body on his conscience.
‘Should do. Hospital was dangerous, but I think we cleared a lot of it out.’ I said. ‘Things alright here?’
‘Lot of blood on the lino.’ Conrad shook his head. ‘Sachs hasn’t broadcast anything yet. But we did get a message from the CDC. I’d have put it on the radio myself, but I wanted to see if you’d come back first.’
‘What’s the message?’ Neville asked.
‘Timetable’s moved up. They’re evacuating the VBC building and setting off in-convoy at three in the afternoon. Plan is to link up with another group of refugees and head to Sydow. Apparently the city’s a fortress now, totally under Sydow Security’s control. Government has written off everything save the capital.’
I wonder if Conrad would have really not have broadcast that, if we hadn’t brought the SUV back. Pays to keep your promises, I guess. It was good to know, even if it didn’t accelerate our timetable much.
‘Thanks.’ I said. ‘Offer’s still open if you, Carl and Beth want to come with us.’
‘I’ll see what happens.’ Conrad shrugged, ‘Sachs might come around, but Beth, she…hasn’t said a word since the shooting started. Think she’s broke from it. We take her out beyond the fence, think we’re asking for trouble.’
‘Good luck then,’ I said, taking a step forward, and offering out my hand. Hesitantly, eyes flicking to my bayonet as if expecting some sort of trick, he took it, and we shook.
‘You too. Good luck, Mr Kelly.’ He said.
‘That food I mentioned before the fighting started. It’s yours. Goodwill gesture.’
Laurel raised an eyebrow at that, but I’d already decided. We couldn’t take it all with us anyway, and it was only sandwiches, soon to expire. She helped me pile them up on the reception desk, but didn’t say a word to him.
We got back into the 4x4, Laurel keeping a wary eye on Conrad, but our paranoia was misplaced this time. We drove out of there, over the bodies and into the neighbourhood without any trouble. I felt myself relax as we headed through the woodland, heading back home to a well-deserved meal.
Anita had worked out we’d last four months at Castle Towers on three meals a day, but with all the running around we’d been doing, we’d forgotten about the lunches we’d now given to GCR. Rationing might be easier if we kept ourselves busy.
The skies darkened into night as we headed on back for the evening, the visible area around our vehicle drawing in, until it was just us and our headlights. We still had the windows cracked, just to let the gasoline smell out, otherwise we’d probably never have heard the gunshots.
‘Hear that?’ Neville asked, eyes flicking from the road a moment, glancing out of the driver’s side window.
‘Someone’s in trouble.’ Laurel said,
as if someone was just off to the headmaster’s office. She unbelted and shuffled over to the other side of the passenger seats, peering out into the deserted streets as we rolled on by. ‘Sounded far away, but hard to tell with all these houses around.’
The first shot was soon accompanied by several more, a brief exchange of short pops and loud cracks, followed by the chattering of an automatic weapon. They did indeed sound far away, but I wasn’t hoping to get a closer look.
‘Get us out of here, Nev.’ I said, ‘Trouble follows us enough, don’t think we need to go looking for it.’
He nodded. ‘City’s been pretty quiet these last few days. Early on I heard a lot more of this.’
‘First off it was all the confusion,’ Laurel piped up from the back, ‘people weren’t sure what was happening and who was trying to kill them. My guess…people settled down for a bit, but now they’re running out of food or water. Probably the have-nots trying to steal from the hoarders like us.’
‘All the more reason not to get involved.’ Neville agreed.
*
Forty Eight
Mist was rising up as we pulled into the car park at home. Neville let us into the foyer and locked up behind, while we called the elevator down. Man, it was good to skip the stairs. After a day like today, I’d have crashed in Stan’s place if the food wasn’t up on the fourteenth. My stomach and Laurel’s were practically harmonising gurgles at this point.
The warm scents of tonight’s meal drifted down the corridor as the elevator doors opened up. Smelled more like a roast dinner than a barbecue, but that’s sort of because it was trying to be. Candlelight flickered through the open doorway.
We took our shoes off and went into the Jamesons’ place, where Morgan was supervising boiling vegetables in the pot on the camping stove, which was set next to the real one in the kitchen. It looked as if she’d already boiled and strained off some of the veg, and had them sitting in their own pans on the real stove. She’d even kept the water for gravy.