Isolation Z (Book 3): Freakshow

by Riva, Aline

  But his theory wasn't voiced aloud, because these were children, and there were others like them out there somewhere, some even yet to be born and none of them warriors yet. Since Zodiac had started school and mixed with other kids, he was being seen in a whole new light. He had a problem with biting, but these occasions were rare. He was a clever boy with intellect beyond his years and people were used to seeing him about the town now, and of course it helped he was the son of Doc Fitzroy, the man who had rid Circus of Flint.

  It seemed to Parsons that times were changing, and for the better as those who lived in Circus stayed secure behind the heavy ring of security that was being expanded. At last, it seemed as if the survivors of Wolfsheer had found a safe haven, perhaps even a place to stay forever. But nothing could ever be certain, not in a world scarred by the apocalypse.

  As they lay together in bed that morning, Emma blinked tired eyes, not because she had just woken up, but through lack of sleep. Ever since the news had broken that another virus kid was on the way, Alex had been hyped. Not in his usual pretending to fly kind of hype, he was on his meds and usually calm but his emotions had been all over the place since finding out he was bite virus positive. Now he was rethinking the whole situation and she wished he had never done that...

  “Please think about this!” he said as his eyes shone with enthusiasm.

  “No,” she groaned as she turned on her side and met his gaze, “Please stop this, Alex. I had a career as a helicopter pilot for many years in the old world and I was happy with my life. I had no ache in my womb, no urge to reproduce – I still don't now! And there's so many reasons why we shouldn't have children.”

  Those words had wounded him, and as she recalled the family he had tragically lost years before, she felt hit by guilt.

  “I know you lost your son and daughter. I'm sorry, I really am. But if we had a child together it would be like Zodiac!”

  “And he's a great kid!”

  “Yes he is. And Greg has been a tired, weary and harassed father, struggling to cope with his tantrums, dealing with other kid's angry parents when he bites! I couldn't cope with a child who behaved like that, not with the way you are too.”

  If her previous remark had wounded him, the cut had just got deeper. Real pain registered in his eyes as he lay beside her, feeling deeply hurt and understanding exactly what she meant.

  “You mean you couldn't cope with a virus kid and a crazy father.”

  “Even if you didn't carry the virus, I'd still say no,” she replied, “I know this town seems like normal life, like the old days – but go to the edge of it and see the watch towers and the spikes and the men with guns and the others who are working further out to make another barrier! The world is crawling with zombies, Alex! Maybe Greg and Cleo are brave enough to disregard that, but I'm not,” her gaze softened as she placed her hand on his cheek.

  “And I love you so much! When you're irrational, when you forget your meds, all I want to do is bring you back to reality and protect you until you can think straight! I couldn't do that if I was distracted by a child to care for!”

  He turned his back on her and closed his eyes.

  “So you're saying I'm like a helpless child because I'm mad... I guess you pity me more than love me, then.”

  “No!”

  “Let me sleep,” was all he said in reply, as he closed his eyes.

  He had sounded so hurt, and Emma could only lay there as the morning light cut through the window and blink away tears, but she knew she had made the right choice for both of them – this was a world that had crawled on its knees to scratch back some kind of decent way of life in defiance of an apocalypse. The world would never be the same again. For Emma, it would never be a place to bring children into, not while the dead still walked the earth.

  Chapter 12

  When the winter came, the fairground was closed for the season. Work went on to strengthen the second ring of security around the town. Now the only place they could not entirely safeguard was the beach and the open water, but patrols worked in shifts to ensure against the rare possibility of the undead washing in from the sea.

  The town was still transforming, with focus on community and social events to pull the people together under circumstances that reminded them of the old world instead of the bloodbath circus Flint had used for entertainment. December came and went with seasonal events, church services, Christmas carols around the lit up tree in the town square. There was a Christmas Day gathering in the church hall for the children to have a small party. The adults had a party at the hotel where there was a large function room.

  Vicki and Emma worked on writing a pantomime version of Cinderella and Marc had joked that surely Greg would be playing Prince Charming. Greg had actually loved the idea, but Cleo was due to give birth any day so the part was offered to Christian, who very much enjoyed the role.

  It felt like the closest they had come to normal life since the old world had been dashed away. After Christmas, winter was hard and fuel had to be rationed to ensure everyone in town kept warm – it was difficult to keep heat and light powered constantly with the extra demand for heating, so Parsons suggested the community centres be opened up every night for those who needed constant heat the most.

  In February heavy snow came down. As Greg watched it fall from behind the window in his warmly insulated home, he felt haunted all of a sudden as thoughts of Wolfsheer and that snowy night when he had lost Stacy came rushing back. He was sure that he would always imagine blood on clean untrodden snow, forever tying screams to the stillness of crisp winter air. Marc had seen the look on his face reflected in the glass as he looked out and watched the snow layering thick on the road outside.

  “What's wrong?” he asked.

  “I was thinking about Stacy,” he replied, still watching the snow, “Snow was falling on the night she died.”

  Marc put a hand on his shoulder and spoke warmly to his closest friend.

  “No, it was snowing very lightly, it barely settled. This snow is different. This is thick snow, the kind that means Zodiac will be constantly in and out of the garden in the morning and he's going to soak the carpet and bring in mud and sludge. Vicki's not exactly going to love that, you know how obsessed she's been with cleaning since we moved into this place! And at some point tomorrow, your son will nag me to take him over the hillside with his sledge. He's going to be a non stop pain in the arse tomorrow, Greg. That's what this snow is – it's Zodiac's fun time, while we clean up after him and keep him amused!”

  Greg started to smile.

  “You're right about that!” he said, then he thought no more of the past as Marc talked of the future and how it would be great to soon have a new baby in the house.

  Upstairs, Zodiac had been sitting on a seat by the window, watching as the snow fell. As he sat beside Cleo, he had just explained how snow was made and talked about weather fronts and estimated it would be cold and icy for at least two weeks, possibly three, because he had been reading about weather. Then the six year old boy who had sounded so much older than his years suddenly sounded six again.

  “I can't wait to build a snowman!” he said excitedly.

  Then he looked to Cleo's baby bump and smiled, placing his hand there as he felt the child move.

  “She's coming very soon,” he told her, “She's ready. She wants to be born.”

  “How could you know that?” Cleo asked him.

  She placed her hand over the bump, through the warm fabric of her dressing gown she felt a movement, then she felt another inside as the baby kicked. She looked to Zodiac, wondering how he could almost communicate with her unborn child – she could not, she could feel the baby move but that was all...

  “She kind of talks to me,” he replied, “I can tell what she's feeling. She knows all our voices. She knows who her parents are, too. I've told her I'm her brother.”

  Although scanning equipment was available at the medical centre, Greg and Cleo had decided to wait
until the baby was born to find out the child's gender. The pregnancy had been rapid and was now full term at just six months, the same length of time it had taken for Stacy to complete her pregnancy with Zodiac.

  “You seem very sure I'm having a girl,” Cleo said.

  Zodiac's translucent eyes widened.

  “You are! She's my sister!”he told her, “Why don't you believe me?”

  “I do believe you,” Cleo replied.

  “Can I take her to school with me and show my friends? She's going to be here by the time the new term starts.”

  Cleo laughed.

  “No! Babies need to be cared for by their parents because they are tiny.”

  “But I can look after her. I've been reading the childcare books you have on the coffee table. The one with childbirth was gross. I suggest you don't leave it on the table any more because it could make visitors feel sick.”

  She laughed again.

  “I know you're a bright boy but you really don't need to educate yourself about that kind of stuff, not for a long time.”

  Zodiac fell silent for a moment, now deep in thought as he looked to the falling snow. Memories of the past had drifted back, not a past he remembered but one he had been told about...

  “Cleo, do zombies always come out of the sea in winter, or just when people have babies?”

  She felt a flicker of alarm as she looked at him, wondering why he had asked such an odd question.

  “Zodiac, listen to me: Zombies can be washed up on the beach any time of the year. But it's not common because there are not many out there, most get eaten by sea life as they drift. If a zombie ever washed up here, the beach patrol would shoot it. We have watch towers on the beach now and they work shifts twenty-four hours and it's never left unguarded. The rest of the town is sealed off with double layers of protection. This really is a safe place. And as for winter I don't think they know what season it is – they just go where the hordes go. Let's just be glad they can't get to us. Believe me, there's no danger here.”

  He looked at her doubtfully.

  “But when I was born, it was winter and the zombie who washed up from the sea killed my mother.”

  She gave a heavy sigh, then put her arm around his shoulder.

  “And that was a very sad day for your father and everyone else who knew her. It happened on the island, where no one expected an attack. It was like an accident, like a wild animal prowling through your village and taking a life – it wasn't meant to happen, but it did. So no, Zodiac. Zombies don't kill mothers because it's winter or because a baby has been born. You don't have to worry about me,” she smiled, “Just remember, if a zombie ever wandered into this town, your Daddy would soon be there to take the first shot. Have you ever asked him how many zombies he's killed?”

  “He said he lost count a long time ago,” Zodiac replied proudly.

  Now he was smiling, his fears had evaporated and his thoughts had turned to morning and Uncle Marc's promise to take him up the hillside to go sledging. He also had plans to build a snowman and an igloo in the garden. He was going to enjoy the snow, and he wasn't going to worry about Mummy-killing zombies any more.

  The snow lasted just over two weeks. By then, Cleo had given birth at home after eleven hours of screaming and pushing. Christian had helped with the birth as Greg had supported Cleo, and the baby had been born a healthy weight giving a loud and healthy cry. Her eyes were translucent and her hair the same shade of silvery white as her brother. Zodiac had been right, he did have a sister. Parsons was not there to consider mystical possibilities for this child. They named her Tallulah, but mostly called her Lula. Cleo was overjoyed and Greg felt like the proudest man alive. There was much celebrating over the coming days, and Greg felt sure that after seeing his daughter come into the world on a snowy night, he could never have bad memories of the depths of winter again.

  Spring time came around fast, melting the snow as the sun began to gather its warmth and banish the last of winter's bone numbing chill. The skies brightened. By now Cleo was taking Lula for walks in a pram along the seafront and as Greg walked beside her, as they reached the closed gates of the fairground they both stopped and looked over.

  “John said he thinks the fair will be ready to open by May – possibly earlier if the weather's good enough,” Greg remarked.

  Lula looked up at her father and he smiled down at her.

  “You're such a good girl... most of the time. Who keeps biting me and Mummy? Is it you, Lula?”

  The little girl's translucent eyes lit up as she smiled brightly showing a strong set of teeth, then she laughed and giggled. Lula's laugh was joyful and quite possibly the loveliest sound they had ever heard. She was always laughing.

  Then Greg noticed Cleo had looked back at the fair, towards the circus tent, then her gaze shifted to the caravans and the place she used to stay when she had been Flint's prisoner. She frowned as old memories silently tumbled back, from a time she wished she could forget. Greg placed his hand on her arm and she turned her head and met his gaze.

  “Don't think about the past,” he said softly, “It's over. We're a family now.”

  As she looked into the eyes of the man she loved she smiled, knowing he was right – Flint was gone, the past was gone, the town was safe and secure and they had the future to look forward to. Greg leaned closer and gave her a kiss, then they walked on, away from the fairground, heading back home with Lula.

  Emma had woken late that day, and she had slid her hand over to her lover's side of the bed, but he was not there. The heating was on and a small window was open to let in fresh air and the cry of gulls as they flew about the spring time sky. She got up and grabbed her dressing gown and put it on, then she left the bedroom, glancing down the silent hallway. All she could hear was the kitchen clock as it ticked loudly.

  “Alex?” she called, but got no reply.

  Then she checked the bathroom and came out again, calling his name and still getting no reply. As she walked into the front room she saw a folded note placed on top of the dusty TV that had stood dark for many years. The back of the note said To Emma, and it was written in his flowing handwriting.

  “What are you up to now?” she muttered in frustration as she unfolded the paper. Then she began to read:

  'Dearest Emma,

  I was a very lonely man until you came along – lonely and grieving. I know this sounds selfish but I'd hoped one day I could have had another family – with you. But you said no and you gave your reasons and I understand those reasons but it doesn't make your decision any easier to bear. I left last night, I took a boat. Don't look for me, you won't find me. I'm starting a new life. I also left my meds behind. I need to be crazy to go out there with corpses crawling the earth, but I've made many journeys and survived them all. I just hope this one leads me to a place where I can find new meaning in my life. Goodbye Emma. I'm sorry. All my love, Alex.'

  She sank heavily to the sofa and with the note still in her hands, she wept as her heart ached. Alex had left her. He had also left the safety of the town. He could be anywhere now... She gave another sob, knowing he was right to tell her not look for him – it would be pointless to search for someone who didn't want to be found.

  The medical centre was closed for the day. Christian had reworked the opening hours to allow for more time to work on his research. He had arrived early that morning, and as he was joined in his office by John, he felt a little nervous.

  “I know you said you wanted to be kept informed about the big experiment,” Christian began, “And of course you want to be sure it's secure down there... But it is secure, this isn't Wolfsheer and mistakes of the past will not be repeated.”

  He stepped away from his desk, joining John in the middle of the room. John nodded, showing no trace of unease.

  “Christian, listen to me, I've seen the plans, I checked out the construction of the chamber and I'm convinced that thing can't ever get out. It's okay. I'm not going to shut this experiment d
own. I just want to check on things regularly so I know it's all going to plan. By the way, I'm very impressed with your latest wound treatment. When one of my men got bitten while he was working on the outer perimeter, that new method of yours gave him a smaller scar and he was back at work in ten days. With the way you're treating wounds and the success of the blood tests, I don't doubt eventually you'll find a cure for the virus, you're obviously working in the right direction to have this much success.”

  “I hope I am,” Christian replied as they left the office together and walked off down the corridor, “It's all I've ever wanted to do, just find a way to stop the virus. If I could reverse the effect, think what that could mean!”

  “Only for the ones still fresh enough,” John reminded him as they cut down a small passageway and headed for the basement.

  “By the way,” Christian added, “ Thank you so much for having this secure area built for me. Without it the research wouldn't be possible.”

  He unlocked the heavy door and went inside. The light came on and Christian led the way, down a flight of stairs to a second locked door. He opened that one too and they went inside, then he closed it behind them. They were in a large laboratory. On the other side of the room was a thick, reinforced wall. Set into that wall was a secure door that had been taken off an old cell from the local police station. Christian slid aside the round spyhole and John looked inside, seeing the zombie within secured to a wall by a metal collar about its neck. The chain had a short length to allow for the creature to stand, it was currently sitting and gnawing on the raw meat that was fed to it once a day. It looked up with dead white eyes, then carried on gnawing on the bloody bone.