by Amy Cross
“I was one of three specialists who made it to Boston that day,” he continues. “They called in fifteen, but only three made it. Once I got there, I wanted to leave right away, to come back for you guys, but by then the scale of the disaster was becoming apparent and I had no choice. Things were falling apart all around us, and now matter how fast we tried to work, the devastation just got worse and worse. Eventually, once things had stabilized a little, the military realized that in order to keep us working, they had to offer to try to find our families. And then, after a few more days, most of the military were dead, so we kind of took charge and made our own decisions. So we sent a team to New York, among other places, and they tried to find you guys.”
“When?” I ask, wiping tears from my face.
“They reached New York on the ninth day.”
“That was when...” I pause for a moment, thinking back to the moment when I walked away from the city. “I left on the ninth day.”
“Well that's some bad timing, isn't it?” He tries to smile, but I can see that he's still horrified by everything that has happened. “I don't blame you, the level of disease in New York was horrific. The team went to the apartment and didn't find you, although that gave me some hope. They found the cab your mother was in, though. I'd noted down the license plate. Both she and the driver...”
I wait for him to finish.
“She and the driver what?” I ask.
“Don't make me say it.”
“They were dead?”
“They...”
“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “Mom didn't become one of those things.”
“I was told that... Well, I don't think there's any point going into the details.”
“What happened to her?”
“Lizzie...”
“What happened?” I shout, trying not to lose control.
“She was very quickly put out of her misery,” he continues. “There's nothing to suggest that she suffered. The sickness comes on very quickly, and that was especially true in the early stages when it was still so viable. Most likely, it just felt as if she was falling asleep.”
“And then what happened? Did soldiers shoot her?”
“The details aren't important.” He pauses. “And then a few weeks later, you tried turning your mobile phone on, and although you didn't find any network coverage, a device we use called a tracer noted your number and we realized you were close to Mitchfield base. I mean... Of all the places, how the hell did you get here?”
“It's a long story.”
“I was able to pull some strings,” he continues, “and get a team out to look for you. And then, by some miracle, they picked up a radio communication two nights ago. They sent me a copy, you were talking to some guy hundreds of miles away at Lake Erie.”
“That was just a complete fluke,” I tell him. “Toad and I...” I pause for a moment, and suddenly it feels as if two completely different sides of my life are colliding. “Oh my God, you have to help me find Toad!”
“Who?”
“He's this guy who helped me. He saved my life.”
“Is he the one who amputated your foot?”
“He did it to save my life!”
“Well, we don't have the resources to go looking for everyone. Now that you're here, I want to take you with me to Boston.”
“Boston?”
“It's where we're trying to pull things together. You'll be safe there, you'll be with me.”
“We have to find Toad first.”
“Lizzie, be reasonable...”
“He's out there somewhere!” I continue, trying not to sound desperate. “I can't just leave him behind! He did everything for me, he risked his life, I'm not leaving without him!”
He sighs. “Whoever this Toad gentleman is, I'm grateful to him for helping you, but there are limits to what I can do for him. I think you have to accept that you might not see him again.”
“He's not dead!” I say firmly.
“I didn't say that he's dead,” he continues. “I don't know the first thing about where he is, who he is, what he's doing... All I know is that some time in the next twenty-four hours, we're taking the helicopter back to Boston. I'm also going to see about getting a team up to Lake Erie. From what your friend said over the radio, it sounds like there's quite a large community up there.”
“Let me go out and look for Toad.”
“You can barely even walk from one room to the next.”
“Dad, please -”
“The world has changed, Lizzie,” he continues. “We're facing a battle for survival. Believe me, things in Boston aren't exactly rosy, but at least we're slowly starting to get somewhere. There's power, there's food, there's security... We can't stop and waste time looking for every straggler who might've got left behind.”
“He's not a straggler,” I reply, “he's...” I pause for a moment, trying to think of a way to make him understand. “We've both lost so many people,” I continue finally. “Not just Mom and Henry, but everyone, and all our friends. Doesn't that mean we have to make more of an effort to keep hold of the few people who are left? He's just one person, Dad? Can't you bend the rules for one person?”
“In an ideal world, maybe...”
“Can you send one of your teams out one more time?” I ask. “Please, I'm begging you, check the farmhouse again, check the land around it, check Toad's old place...”
“Impossible.”
“But -”
“I'm not arguing with you,” he replies, making his way back toward me and putting his hands on my shoulders. “Lizzie, I thought I'd lost you. I have lost your mother and your brother. By some miracle, we've actually found each other in a world where finding people is almost impossible. Mitchfield base is going to be abandoned soon, once we've finished scavenging the equipment that might be useful. The only place to be at the moment is Boston, and I can't stay away for too long, I'm needed there.” He pauses, as if he's waiting for me to accept that he's right. “We're rebuilding, Lizzie. It's going to take a long time, longer than our lifetimes, but we're starting. This has been a mass extinction event that nearly wiped out the entire human race, but we're turning a corner.”
“I can't leave Toad,” I reply, although I can already tell that I might not have much choice in the matter.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“No,” I say quickly, although suddenly I realize that my feelings for him are – at best – conflicted. I miss him, and I want him to be safe, and I want to have him around. “Maybe,” I admit finally. “We never really talked about it, but... Maybe. I think sort of...”
“Well then,” my father replies after a moment, “I'm sorry you've lost your first boyfriend, but that helicopter is heading back to Boston in the next twenty-four hours after I've completed a few checks here, and we're both going to be on it.”
“But -”
“And there isn't room for another person,” he adds, letting go of my shoulders and heading to the door. “It's well past midnight, Lizzie. You should go and find Doctor Kennedy, and then get some sleep. We've got a long day ahead of us.”
I make my way over to the window and look out at the darkness, and I can't help thinking that Toad might still be out there, still fighting for his life. After a moment, I realize I can see my father's reflection in the window, and that he's watching me from the other side of the room. This whole situation is so surreal, I still feel as if I might wake up and find that I'm still in Toad's old farmhouse, or still in the apartment in New York.
“This is real, isn't it?” I say finally, turning to him.
He nods, and I can tell that he's exhausted.
“I'm glad you found me,” I tell him. “We were trying to survive, but...”
“You would have died,” he replies firmly. “From the state of your leg, and from your general level of health, Doctor Kennedy believes you only had a few days left. Whatever you and that Toad guy were doing, it wasn't working, not really, you were j
ust delaying the inevitable. I'm just glad we found you in time to save you. Now get some sleep, we can talk more in the morning.”
As he walks away, I turn back to the window.
“You have to be okay,” I whisper, imagining Toad making his way through the forest. “Don't be an idiot, Toad. Come to the base. Please...”
Thomas
Pulling a couple more screwdrivers from the toolbox, I attach them to my belt before turning and hurrying out of the tent.
“Hello, Thomas,” Mark says, standing right outside with Luke and Bobby just a few steps him. “Going somewhere?”
I stare at him for a moment, trying to work out what to say. I can't tell him the truth, that I'm heading back to the door so I can force my way inside and find out what happened to Quinn, but I'm not fast enough to think of a good lie.
“I was just -”
“Relax,” he continues with a smile, “I'm sure you're doing something that's in the best interests of the whole camp. That's why I came to see you, actually. Luke and Bobby tell me that one of our fellow campers might not be feeling so well, and that it's someone you know.”
“I don't know what you mean,” I reply, even though I have no doubt that he's referring to Melissa.
“She was coughing all night,” Luke says with a faint smile. “He was helping her, too. He took her some water and he was fussing all over her. He's either in her pants already, or he's trying to get there.”
“Giving her water is a perfectly acceptable way of dealing with the situation,” Mark replies. “I'm sure Thomas was just being kind.”
“Yeah, but she -”
“Asthma, I assume?”
“That's all it is,” I tell him. “Honestly, she's fine.”
“I believe you.”
“It sounded like she was trying to throw her goddamn guts up,” Bobby adds.
“Asthma can be extremely uncomfortable,” Mark continues. “We must be vigilant and keep an eye out for anyone who's sick, but at the same time we mustn't leap to conclusions. The last thing we want is some kind of witch-hunt.” He stares at me for a moment. “You will let us know, Thomas, if your friend Melissa shows any more symptoms. We're rather going to rely on you to be our eyes and ears in this particular case.”
“He won't turn her in,” Luke mutters. “He wants a little girlfriend.”
“Shut up,” I say firmly.
“Make me!”
Rushing at him, I try to grab him by the throat but Bobby yanks me back.
“Let's keep this civil,” Mark continues. “Thomas, you have my full support and I'm quite certain that you'll do the right thing. If your friend Melissa only has asthma, that's not a problem, she can still work and support the community. But if you get even the slightest suspicion that this asthma is actually something else, you need to come and tell me immediately, is that understood?”
“And what happens then?” I ask cautiously as Bobby releases me.
“Then we deal with the situation effectively,” he replies with a faint smile, as he holds a hand out for me to shake. “Welcome to your new leadership position, Thomas. I can't promise that it'll always be easy, but you'll be contributing to the survival of our little group here at Lake Erie, and that's the most important thing. We can all agree on that, can't we?”
Reluctantly, I shake his hand.
“It's all about the community,” he continues. “We can't let the needs of any single individual put everyone else at risk. We all want the same thing here, and I for one trust Thomas.” He stares at me for a moment, almost as if he's trying to assert his will. “You know let us down, will you?”
“Of course not,” I reply, even though I can tell that his expression of support is more of a challenge than a vote of confidence. “You can count on me.”
***
“People are watching me this morning,” Melissa mutters a little while later, as we sit outside her tent and eat some of the bread from our daily ration. “I'm not imagining things, Thomas! They are keeping an eye on me!”
“It's nothing,” I reply, glancing over at the women behind the food bench and seeing that they're looking this way, as if they expect Melissa to start coughing again at any moment.
“See?” she says.
Turning to her, I can see the fear in her eyes.
“It's just because they heard you in the night,” I reply, hoping to calm her nerves. “This time tomorrow -”
“I saw how it was with Jacqueline,” she continues, keeping her voice low. “She had bad lungs, so she often got a little out of breath. It was nothing but people started muttering about her, and before long everyone was convinced that she was sick. Like, properly sick. And look what happened to her yesterday!”
“She had a heart attack,” I point out. “That was just a coincidence.”
“People always have heart attacks around here,” she replies. “Always during the night, always when no-one's watching.” She glances around again, as if she's still worried that people are looking at her. “With someone like Jacqueline, it's kind of believable. She was never really very fit, and she was getting old, but how do you explain the fact that two people in their thirties have died the same way in the past few weeks?”
“They have?” I ask, starting to worry.
“There's nothing wrong with my heart,” she continues, “I just...” She looks over at Katie, who's playing down by the water's edge. “We should have gone with Hannah,” she adds after a moment. “I was scared, but she had the right idea. The longer we stay here, the closer we get to the day when...” She pauses. “It's going to happen,” she says finally. “It might take a day, or a week, but I'm next. I can't let that happen.”
“You'll be okay,” I tell her. “I'll make sure nothing happens to you.”
“You can't protect me.”
“Mark listens to what I tell him,” I continue. “I know it sounds crazy, but he really does. I already told him you just have asthma, and he accepted that.”
“He's already asking about me?” she replies, with fear in her eyes. “Oh God, it's worse than I thought...”
“Melissa, you don't have to -”
Stopping suddenly, I see that Luke and Bobby are over by the water's edge, talking to Katie.
“Wait here,” I mutter, hurrying between the tents until I catch up to them.
“It's never been this bad, has it?” Luke is saying as he crouches in front of Katie. “Have you ever known Mommy to cough so much?”
“Get away from her,” I shout.
“We're just checking on Katie's Mommy's health!” he replies with a grin. “Can't a couple of guys take a moment out of their busy days to ask if everything's okay? Where's your community spirit, man?”
“Does she bring up blood?” Bobby asks, reaching out to pat the top of Katie's head. “Has she ever -”
“Leave her alone!” Melissa shouts, racing over to join us and immediately scooping Katie up into her arms. “Don't you dare talk to my daughter!”
“You're a little jumpy, aren't you?” Luke says, glancing at me. “Are you sure everything's okay here?”
“If anything's wrong,” I tell him firmly, “I'll deal with it. You heard what Mark said.”
“Sure,” Luke continues, taking a step back, “he trusts you. That's fine, but things change sometimes and he's trusted us way longer than he's even known you. If it comes down to a dispute kind of situation, I'm pretty sure I know which way he'll lean.” He turns to Melissa. “Hope you feel better soon, M'am. Wouldn't want to find out that you've come down with something nasty. And this sweet little thing -”
He reaches out to touch Katie's hand, but Melissa turns away from him.
“See you around,” Luke adds, as he and Bobby make their way back toward the tents.
“I told you,” Melissa says, still holding Katie as she turns to me, “it's already started. This is exactly how it was with Jacqueline. Everyone thinks I'm sick, and that means I'm going to be next!”
Elizabeth
“It's looking good,” Doctor Kennedy says as she examines my foot. “I think we might have some success with this one.”
Forcing a smile, I stare down at my right foot and try not to throw up. Ever since she removed the bandage, I've been shocked by the sight of my ankle and foot, which are still smeared in some kind of regenerative gel that's apparently supposed to be encouraging the skin and bone to knit back together. One side-effect of this gel, however, is that my whole lower leg looks strangely gray, and the pain-killers I take every two hours are only dulling the agony. I still feel as if I might pass out at any moment.
“Will I be able to use it properly?” I ask. “Eventually, I mean.”
“You'll be able to put normal weight on it,” she replies, getting to her feet and grabbing a fresh set of bandages. “Functionality of your toes might be a little difficult, but I don't see that as a huge drama. It's better than -”
Before she can finish, the lights flicker for a moment.
“It's better than having no foot at all,” she continues, rolling her eyes as she starts re-dressing my ankle. “Once you get to Boston, make sure they apply a new bandage every twenty-four hours. I know how it goes sometimes, people like to skimp on things and other doctors have their own ridiculous opinions, but it's vital to keep airing your foot. In fact, it'd be great if you could rest up entirely for a few days once you're there and just keep the foot out in the open.”
The lights flickers again.
“For God's sake,” she mutters, “can't they keep those generators running smoothly?”
“At least you have power,” I point out. “A few days ago, I thought I was never going to see an electric light again.”
“You're right,” she replies. “I guess we should be grateful for small mercies.”
“Where's the power coming from, anyway?”
“A plant about fifty miles away,” she tells me. “I don't remember the details, but a few old plants have been brought online, although most of them can only manage about ten hours' service at a time. I'm told that things will get better, which would certainly be nice.”