The Reaper Virus (Short Story): Sarcophagus
Page 4
Directing a forced smile towards Jessica, he continued to speak with a little more volume, “we’ve all got people we’re worried about and we all want to get to the retreat site in a hurry. The good news is that we’re almost to the bridge across the James. After that it should be smooth sailing, right Frank?” Frank shook his head up and down saying nothing. Now he felt validated and even authoritative. He closed his speech, “See? The worst part is over. If you all need to talk I’ll come to your row. Otherwise try to stay in your seat in case we have any more unexpected bumps.”
Chapter Eight
Creeping through expressway traffic was soon reduced to inching towards the river. The final quarter of a mile leading up to the bridge took them twenty minutes to pass in what should have taken a minute or two. When the area scenery opened preceding the bridge the retreat members rejoiced.
“What did I tell you?” Paul happily said standing from his front row seat, “the rest of the trip will be a breeze!” He fed off the reactions of the group; they looked happy so he sat down feeling content in the accomplishment.
“Praise Jesus!” yelled a woman from somewhere in the back.
Then a man loudly added, “Salvation is right on the other side of this bridge!”
A few clapped. Others maintained a more realistic outlook that kept them quietly subdued. Their pessimism was certainly justified; it isn’t easy to let go of your worry when all that could be seen ahead was an unending parking lot. Jessica looked down at Ava, showing her a smile. In return Ava looked perplexed.
“What’s the matter honey?” She asked.
Ava hesitated, struggling to properly form the thoughts storming within her busy little mind into words. Then she asked, “Is the retreat on the other side of the river?”
“Yes,” Jessica replied not expecting to be questioned.
However, her confusion didn’t waiver. “Is it, like, right on the other side of the river? Because I can’t see it.”
Jessica caught on to the source of confusion, “no angel; it isn’t right on the other side of the river. We’re still a ways away from it but the river is sort of a marker for us as we get closer.”
She thought for a moment, unconsciously raising an eyebrow the way her mother does when she’s deeply pondering something. “I get that, Mommy. But why is everyone so excited if we’re not close yet?”
Truthfully, they had another hour and half in normal traffic before the bus should reach its destination. In the absurdity that was today’s traffic, they would be lucky to reach the retreat before sundown. An hour into the bus trip and they’d experienced enough fear and loss to make the time feel longer than any person should have to endure. The shell-shocked group welcomed an end to this city and all of the horrors it has shown them. Existing as a natural boundary to Richmond city limits, crossing the James River was a logical point to imagine the worst might be over. None of them fully realized that logic has no place in a world shaken by a pandemic, a world where the dead walk.
Jessica wanted to be out of the city as much as the other passengers did. She knew that it was one step closer to getting somewhere safe. The notion of escaping with her precious daughter took over her thoughts from the moment she first saw the news reports. She was willing to spend all that money on their retreat slots if it meant they had a way to wait for this to blow over. Petting the little girl’s head she answered, “because it’s good to be happy about the little things when a lot of bad things are going on. There’s more people in the city so that means there’s more people to get sick. We’re trying to get away from that while all the people get better.”
Digesting the simplified reasoning, she was quiet for a second or two. “Are the sick people only in the city?”
The little one was smart. Her five-year-old logic was enough to recognize that their grand plan for safety had some flaws. Jessica knew the questions would continue if she didn’t nip the topic, “remember when you were sick right after school started and we had to keep you home for a few days so your classmates wouldn’t catch your flu bug?” Waves of brown hair danced atop the purple of Ava’s jacket as she nodded. “Image you weren’t sick but instead all of your classmates were… what do you think we would do then?”
“Umm…” Ava thought aloud, “I’d probably want to stay home so I wouldn’t get sick. I’d be sad all my friends were sick, though.”
Half of her friends probably were sick and Jessica knew it. A class of twenty-three kindergarteners was down to eleven, twelve if their teacher was counted. Not all of the missing kids were sick. Some had sick family members or forward-thinking parents that decided to limit their contact with notoriously contagious environments. The school shut down a few days before, stating a nationwide effort to stem the spread of the R32PR Virus. It was late in the evening of Ava’s first day out of school that the C.D.C. confirmed the thirty-third mutation.
Obviously thinking about her friends, the little girl’s head dipped and her eyes drifted towards her feet. Jessica gently took her by the chin to lift her frown. “Don’t you worry about them. They are with their families just like you’re with me. And you’re right, the best thing to do would be to keep away from people who are sick; that’s exactly what we’re doing.”
They both stopped talking; exchanging a quizzical look knowing something had changed. The rhythmic rocking from stop and go traffic had gone on for so long that they had become accustomed to the motion like cruise passengers out at sea. Now the pattern had ceased entirely. Jessica looked out the window seeing cars parked over every square foot of the bridge. Traffic had finally come to a complete halt.
“Mommy look!” Ava gleefully pointed out their window, “it’s the pretty train bridge!” The ominous construction stood above the obscuring cement walls beyond the rivers of automobiles and water. They sat aside an enormous painted still frame of a sight that should have been blurred by movement.
Jessica acknowledged her daughter’s excitement with a smile then held herself still trying to detect any motion in the giant wheels below them. Agonizing minutes passed; the only movement came from nervous tapping in her foot. Others began to talk amongst themselves about stopping so she stood up, “excuse me, Paul….”
Eager to please, Paul shot up from his seat, “yes ma’am?”
She paused. The whispers behind her settled, waiting to see if Jessica was going to address what clearly worried them as well. Never a fan of speaking in front of groups, she cleared her throat and started slowly, “we, uh….” Quiet words coarsely escaped her dry lips. Clearing her throat again, she found the proper volume, “we’re not moving anymore, like, not even a little.”
His face didn’t hide any of the confusion he was feeling. Minutes before, when he made the announcement that they’d reached the bridge, he was lost in his own contentment because it was a far better feeling to embrace than the sadness felt earlier in the morning. The calculated distraction Frank provided by giving Paul some authority also made him oblivious to a critical detail of their speed. Trying to save face, he reasoned, “well you know that traffic has been bad the whole time. Please just sit down. We’ll be moving again in no time.”
There was something in his tone that reminded her of Ava’s father; it was a quality that never failed to irritate her. Hardly withholding her frustration, Jessica shot back, “this isn’t one of those times where the leader gets to play dumb and everyone is happy. We’re sitting in park not even halfway over the bridge. You’ve been labeled as our leader, and that’s fine, but don’t patronize us.”
Muttering behind them made Jessica roll her eyes. The other retreat members were like a stereotypical angry mob following the lead of whoever currently voices their opinion the loudest. Thoughts surged within her, “we should have taken the car. We should have stayed home. If the world is fucking ending, what was I thinking when I paid to trap us in a bus with these people?” Panic manifested into short breaths; she was working herself into a place they couldn’t afford to be.
Paul was about to speak when Jessica cut him off, “save it, okay? Don’t bullshit us anymore.” A prudishly predictable gasp answered her foul terminology from a few rows back. In an ordinary setting she would have relished the prodding of the church crowd’s flagrantly old-fashioned sensibilities. “Are you going to tell us what’s the situation up there or do I need to come on up?”
He leaned over to confer with Frank, who contributed little to the whispered conversation. Facing the rest of the group again, he signed. “Frank can see all the way up to the overpass with Staples Mill Road just past the bridge… and, it’s not great out there. No accidents in sight; so that’s good news. But there’s a whole lot of cars. And no sign of what’s holding traffic up. I think there’s just too many cars with not enough road to hold them all.
Uproar of voices answered his announcement. Waiving his arms to regain order, Paul shouted, “hold on! Ease up, my friends! We’re still okay. There’s only cars. I don’t see any of… well, you know…. them. And we have a couple coolers of food packed in the overhead. This seems like a great time to have lunch!”
Chapter Nine
Lunch came in the form of pre-made sandwich wraps with turkey, ham and American cheese. The replenishment and balancing of blood sugars brought everyone in the bus to a more even level. Many chatted with each other like this was a mild setback in an otherwise worthy investment. Others stretched their legs or got up to use the bathroom facility in the rear. A few rows offered to swap seats with their neighbors across the isle to check out the side of the bus they hadn’t yet been privy during the trip.
The majority of the socialization took place in the rows behind theirs; Jessica was thankful for that. She wasn’t the type to hang around after a church service to exchange pleasantries with people she only saw on Sunday mornings. Being antisocial was a character flaw that she knew needed work, however, this wasn’t the time. “If we make it to the retreat site in one piece,” she thought, “then I’ll play nice.”
Ava thoroughly enjoyed her simple lunch, proudly finishing every bite. Ten minutes after returning to her storybook, she fell sound asleep. Jessica shifted her so she could curl up using her lap as a pillow. Gently stroking her sleeping daughter’s hair, Jessica envied the ability to turn everything off in favor of a nap.
Frank muttered something to Paul. Instantly the appointed puppet leader rose to his side. Frank stood with a big stretch, stepped to the side and allowed Paul to hold the driver’s seat. Grinning ear to ear he said, “take your time, Frank. I’ll hold your spot!”
He scoffed in response, “cool your jets, Mr. President; I’m just taking a pee break. We ain’t going anywhere - no point in holding it until my back teeth are swimmin’.” Paul laughed uncomfortably as Frank willed his stiff legs into movement towards the facilities.
She’d never seen a bus driver take a bathroom break in the middle of a trip before. Before this morning she hadn’t been on a charter bus for more than a couple hours, so there wasn’t much room for comparison. He sauntered past noticing Ava curled in Jessica’s lap. “The little one feeling alright?” Frank asked.
“Nap time,” she whispered so softly that he could only read her lips mouthing the words.
The bus driver smirked. “Ain’t she the lucky one,” he replied while stepping passed. She heard him dismiss other attempts at conversation from the rows toward the rear. “Not coming back to chat,” he’d say, “just using the little boys room.” At least five times a concerned voice she couldn’t distinguish would say something to him then Frank offered a stock response from a short list of options. He spent ten minutes in the bathroom then made a more hastily walk back to the helm. It may have been sweat, or even her imagination, but Jessica swore she saw the shimmer of a missed tear on the old man’s cheek when he passed.
An hour passed with them confined to their seats. Then someone loudly observed activity outside the bus. Heeding to fear and boredom fueled curiosity, they shot to the windows. All but Jessica’s row moved to see as if an order was just barked commanding them to do so.
“Is it the zombies?” A woman cried.
“Why are you using that foul word?” snipped a nearby man’s voice. “They are sick. You don’t need to call them monsters.”
“No they ain’t sick,” said someone at the back, “people are getting out of their cars!”
Volume elevated in the cabin as people went back and forth about what was happening. Ava stirred, rising with creased lines on her face from the uneven pillow that was her mother’s lap. She looked to Jessica showing fright and confusion about the rude awakening. Cutting nap time short was a volatile risk for the five year old; the unnecessary bothering only enhanced the short fuse Jessica had developed for this group’s average mentality. Jessica shushed her with soft reassurances that everything was fine. One hand rubbed the groggy little one’s shoulders while the possibility of danger outside caused the other one to instinctively search the bag under her seat for the revolver.
Before she could find the weapon or even stand to share her displeasure with the rest of the passengers, Paul centered himself in the aisle waving his arms for attention. Voices simmered enough for him to be heard, “everyone, please! It’s alright so let’s all calm down for a second. Looks to me like people in the cars around us are gettin’ out to stretch their legs. And, really though, can you blame them?” A few chuckles filled his planned pause. “How about this… ya’ll stay here where it’s safe. I’ll pop out to see if things look good enough out there for us to follow their lead. So long as traffic doesn’t start moving ahead and we all stay near the bus, I don’t think it would hurt for us to get some air. Does that sound fair?”
Murmurs of approval answered. He nodded, appearing satisfied, then had an immediate look of doubt for what he’d just volunteered himself to do. His shoulders rose up and down slowly with calming breaths before walking towards the door. Frank held out a tire iron shaped like a plus symbol for him to take. A rush of cool outside air flooded the cabin as he pulled the door open. Paul turned to the group again before heading down the steps. The fierce front he attempted to show was so flimsy that his uncertainty visibly materialized through the quivering in his lower lip.
Squeals emanated from door hinges as the old man worked the handle to pull them closed. Air pressure equalized again ushering in an unnatural quiet. Not a single sound was made during the minutes Paul spent off the bus. The glass filled with curious faces desperate to see if their boredom-enhanced fears were misplaced. “He’s coming back!” a voice from the second row proclaimed. Another squeal of the door and a wave of air came followed by Paul’s reentry.
“Everything looks good out there so we’re safe to get out,” he announced, instantly stirring the crowd. “Hey now! Listen up! We’re safe... yet we still need ground rules. I couldn’t see what’s caused this nasty backup but that don’t mean the authorities ain’t workin’ to clear things up. Nobody wants to end up lost or left on the bridge if traffic suddenly decides to move. If any of you have ideas then raise your hand and we’ll work this out like the loving congregation we are...” his voice grew timid. Sadness returned to his face for a moment before he continued, “Pastor Doug would have wanted us keep that love going. Let’s make this work for his sake. So here’s what I think the rules should be….”
They’d underestimated Paul. He had taken the reigns of appointed leadership with unexpected ambition for a man previously broken down by worry. Through his surprisingly effective guidance, they hashed out ‘rules’ for exiting the relative safety of the bus. Confinement in a traffic jam served as ample motivation for suggestions from members of the congregation that had been quiet thus far. J
essica wondered if such excessive debate was required for the other people walking about the bridge to exit their vehicles. All pessimism aside, she knew that they were the largest group in the area so structure needed to be in place.
First and foremost, no one was required to leave. In a short time from that morning, their lives had drastically changed. Doom had crept up on every human being through the pandemic. Denial can prove more lethal than any virus. The bus crash was a point of critical mass for those that refused to acknowledge the dangers of the R33PR Virus. Before that point easily half the people on the second bus would have jumped at a chance to get out. Then the gravity of the virus and the loss of half their group melted away any remaining stubborn ignorance. Not all of them would be so eager to leave the safety of their seat now that the opportunity was presented and they wouldn’t be pushed to do so.
Secondly, time away from the bus was to be limited. Wandering away from the group could prove catastrophic. The hopeful outcome was for traffic to start moving again; if it did then they wouldn’t be able to wait for stragglers. They couldn’t see any of the afflicted on the roadway but that didn’t mean there wasn’t an ever-present danger of them discovering this bumper-to-bumper buffet. Shelter within the bus needed to be minutes away at all times. Everyone agreed to fifteen-minute check-in increments with Paul, who volunteered his services guarding the door.