“And you think you will eventually contain it?”
“Definitely. It may take months to manufacture and distribute enough of the meds.”
Jason cleared his throat. “In the meantime then, now that I have successfully prised all the information out of you that I could, we had better deal with the big problem. One might be inclined to wonder, where even to start?”
“You’ve been paying close attention to this aspect of the crisis, I presume?”
“Of course, as a professor of entomology, biochemistry, and biodiversity, it has become the most important thing in my field, the most tremendous of all tragedies.”
“So, tell me, and without any bullshit - we’ll save that for the politicians, how bad is it, Jason?”
“No bullshit, Rosa?”
“No bullshit, friend.”
“It’s the end of the world.”
*****
8 a.m. California
Robert Copenhaver, who owned California Mobile Apiary, walked out of his house into the driveway to the tall stacks of bee colonies being prepared for transport. The many colonies had been loaded onto several pallets the day before. What the hell? He stood dumbstruck, in awe, in shock. He did not know what reaction he was about to have, whether he would explode in a fit of rage, or fall to his knees in tears.
Copenhaver had eight thousand colonies of bees, each containing an average of forty-five thousand New World Carniolan honey bees. His bees were used to pollinate hundreds of thousands of fruit trees as far away as Florida. In California, his hardworking insects were a big part of the massive pollination effort to sustain the state’s huge almond tree industry, which exported hundreds of millions of dollars in almonds every season and was a vital part of California's economy. He was also the main producer of the NWC queens, and had been trying to increase diversity amongst beekeepers in the southwest.
Currently, the bees were at the end of a two week rest period before making a run to another orchard. They were supposed to be resting, that is. What he saw this morning was like running into a brick wall. His stacks of colonies, all four thousand that were staged here waiting for tomorrow's truck run, were silent. Silence in the apiary meant death, but he didn't need his ears to see that. Surrounding the many stacks of bright white bee colonies, was swath of brown ten feet wide; Copenhaver’s ninth circle of hell. On wobbling legs, he stumbled up to the brown swath and knelt down.
“My bees,” he whispered. He brushed a hand over the bodies. Some were still moving, barely, most were not. “My god. Oh my god.” He walked over the wide path of honey bee carcasses and reached his hives. Silence. He removed the top of a low stack and pulled up a single file of comb. It was perfect. Perfectly formed crisp, symmetrical, wax combs, dripping with golden yellow honey. But empty. Empty of bees. The honey was delicious but useless for his industry. He turned and leaned back against the stack, then sank down to the ground.
Robert stared at the band of dead bees circling the palletized hives like a withered ring of Saturn. His eyes were cloudy and blue from long years of life and work, now those eyes brimmed with moisture. If this was every bee from his colonies, and he prayed, oh he prayed to God it wasn't, then there were over 150 million honey bees lying dead on the ground around him. That was half of everything he owned. What happened, what could have happened here? He was always so careful.
His fingers, gnarled and wrinkled from so much manual labor, and now, the pain of arthritis, trembled as he fished his phone out of his pocket. Protocol was to report any substantial losses to the California Apiary Association so that they could inform, alert, and educate other beekeepers on potential outbreaks of bee parasites. His fingers found their number in the contact list. As the phone rang, tears began to fall down his face, tracing imperfect lines down his weathered skin.
Chapter 5
Kala woke with horrific stomach cramps. She was curled up on a cushioned sofa she found in one of the airport’s first class lounges. She had not intended to stay at the airport, in fact, she wanted to get as far away as possible, but weakness of muscles and fatigue of her terrible out of shape cardiovascular system took over. That, and the dead ones were everywhere! All the hell over the place. Not really inside the building. They didn’t seem that interested in it as long as she stayed quiet, but she’d had to sneak up to the terminal building past maybe a dozen of the dead ones.
They were frightening to watch. Once Kala had secured herself inside the lounge, she watched through the large plate glass windows. The dead - they were in so many ways zombies, but also not. They didn’t vocalize like humans, instead using grunts and yells and groans, that was zombie-like, but their movement was not. She watched a large man with a tank top and baggy shorts shuffle forward out away from the airport, his movements were slow and looked confused. Then, in a snap, he had ducked down, and was peering to the right and the left. He would lift his head into the air, raising his nostrils as high as he could. After several minutes he would continue his slow shuffle, only now in a different direction.
“These don’t seem the same as the ones I saw months ago,” she said to herself. “They have mutated. Maybe, I don’t know.” The behavior reminded her of a deer observed in the wild. A deer will follow a path and forage and eat. Without warning though, the deer's head will snap up, looking around for predators. It always felt like they were looking for her, there, waiting with her bow. Only these creatures were looking for prey, not predators. Weren't they?
All of the food with any substance had rotted in the hot airport. Unlike the hangar where she had been housed, the airport was too large for an emergency battery backup to power its lights and refrigerators. She found scores of candy bars, which she crammed down her throat with abandon. There was bottled water and cans of pineapple juice behind the bar, which she used to rinse down the chocolate, that was so sweet it burned her throat as it went down.
Now she was paying for it. With cramps that would have rivaled her worst menstrual day, she hobbled to find a bathroom. Thank god the lounge had its own. The toilets might even flush, since they were based on pressure, not power.
When she emerged, she felt drained, deflated, but the cramps had subsided. She shuffled over to the bar and mixed a glass of pineapple juice with water and drank it down, wincing at the acidity against her sore throat. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
She stood up to the windows, watching the dead ones. She'd watched them for an hour last night, before sleep finally claimed her, but she had divined no pattern as of yet. She felt like it was there, beneath the surface, but she had yet to make that breakthrough. Kala carefully exited the lounge, and seeing no one in the large corridor, slipped three stores down to the luggage shop, where yuppies could buy bags that were extremely overpriced.
She picked out a backpack that looked rugged and had comfortable padding on the straps, then retreated back to the lounge. She filled the bag with bottles of water and candy bars, also a plastic jar of roasted peanuts. In a pinch, they would provide her with both protein and sodium. There was a paring knife in one of the bar cabinets that was too small to be terribly useful, but she grabbed it anyway, and stuffed it in. The bag was heavy on her back and she reminded herself that she was still weak, and that she wouldn’t be able to run fast with it on. No matter, it’s time to go. She took a last look out the window, saw the dead ones still doing their nonsensical dance, then exited the lounge for good, her fire axe held in both hands.
No sooner had she left the lounge than something big came swinging at her face. Kala ducked and a chair smashed into the wall behind her. Her duck turned into a dive as the weight of her pack forced her onto the ground, just as a foot smashed over her. Her attacker’s foot was right in front of her, so she grabbed it and pulled, knocking the person to the ground violently. She didn’t wait for another opportunity, she raised herself up and brought the axe down on her opponent with a fury, who deftly kicked it out of the way as the blade came down. The force of her momentum on the heavy
axe sent her flying sideways where she hit the ground and rolled once. She shrugged out of her backpack and stood. All right, ninja zombie is going to die. But ninja zombie was standing as well. Ten feet from each other they squared off. “Come on, asshole, show me what you’ve got!” she taunted.
The zombie cocked its head at her curiously. Then it spoke, “Are you still human?” a boy's voice asked.
Kala’s jaw dropped. In this nightmarish hell, the last thing she expected to see was a person - a real person. Holy crap. She didn’t know what to say so she just said, “Yes.”
“Why did you attack me?”
“You attacked me, jerk!”
“Oh, yeah. Well, I’m sorry.” The figure stepped closer and removed his cap. Kala saw a beautiful boy with smooth brown skin and close cropped black hair. He looked young, probably fourteen or fifteen. He carried a long hunting knife in one hand. She saw that he had some cuts on the palm of his knife hand. He lowered the blade as he approached.
Kala hesitantly let the axe relax in her grip. “I’m Kala,” she said. “What's your name?”
“Dylan.”
There was a moment of awkwardness as the two young people tried to recall what the social norms said they should say next. “What are you doing here, Dylan? I didn’t see you coming. I’ve been watching out the windows for a while now.”
Dylan grinned, “I can be like a ninja when I want.”
Kala chuckled, then chuckled some more.
“What?”
“I was thinking to myself when we were fighting that you were a ninja zombie.”
That got a chuckle from Dylan.
“What are you doing here, Kala?”
“I was a patient in the military field hospital that was set up out in one of the hangars.”
He looked confused. “There was a military hospital here?”
“It was small, but it’s shut down now.”
“And they just left you there?”
“Um, yep. I got left behind. I finally made my way up here yesterday morning. What are you doing here?”
“Looking for a car with gas in it. Then I thought I’d come in here and look for some food.”
Kala nodded slowly. “Is it still like a maze of cars out there?”
“Yeah, but there’s a path that's been blasted through out by the road, where I guess the military people were coming and going. Wait, if it's a military hospital, what were you doing there?”
“Just the right place at the right time I guess. I was here at the airport when I got hurt, and they were just setting up the hospital, so it was happenstance I guess.”
Dylan seemed to be thinking about her story. “How long have you been here?”
“Over three months, I think.”
Dylan did a double take. “That’s - that’s back at the beginning of the outbreak. So you, you don’t know anything then, do you?”
Kala’s eyes darkened and narrowed at him. He immediately realized his mistake and stuttered, “I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean you’re stupid or something…”
“Because I’m not.”
“But a lot has happened in three months. Holy shit. Sorry, my mom told me not to swear in front of ladies.”
“I’m not a lady, so you're fine. I’m just a girl.”
Dylan took a second to appreciate her looks. “No, you're a lady,” he sighed. Do you have anything to eat?”
Kala nodded. “I do. But I was just leaving. I’ll share some food with you, if you’ll bring me up to speed on the last few months.”
“Deal.”
“Cool, then let’s walk and talk, I’m about done with this airport.”
“I know a good way out, follow me,” Dylan told her.
“Perfect, I was hoping I wasn’t going to have to walk out the front door and face all of those things.”
“Have you seen one up close yet?” he asked her.
“Yes, I’ve had to take a few out myself.”
“Me too.” Dylan made a sour face, “One was my brother.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He nodded. “I try to avoid them as much as I can, but there’s barely any real people left anymore.”
“Is the state still under quarantine? They had the army guarding the border the last time I was out.”
Dylan paused and observed her.
“What? I told you, I’ve been locked away, I mean recovering. I don’t know what's been happening.”
Dylan sighed and shook his head, “I know, and I’m sorry, that just seems like so long ago. The quarantine failed, Kala. The zombies are all over now, they’re everywhere.”
“Jesus. Worldwide?”
“No idea. Before we lost power, the national news was reporting some incidents in South America, and I think there was a case in New Zealand, but I can’t say anymore. We’ve been pretty much cut off here in Florida.”
“We?”
Dylan started forward again, turning into what Kala thought was a locked utility room. He held a finger up to his lips for her to be quiet. They crept into a short unadorned hallway that ended in an unmarked steel door. He placed his ear against the door for a few moments, listening.
“I think we’re good,” he whispered, then eased the door open, letting the mid-morning sun wash over them. Kala squinted through it, but Dylan was moving. She did her best to keep up with him, but he was fast and agile. He hugged the side of the building as he ran, keeping out of sight as much as possible.
She followed him around the building, and before long she could see the same stretch of land she had traveled over, months ago when she first got here. Just a quarter mile away, over a little rise, was the big field littered with cars. And if her car was still there, she had nearly a full tank of gas. “Enough to get me almost out of Florida, at least.”
“What was that?” Dylan asked.
“Oh, sorry, I was talking to myself. So this thing has spread all over now, huh?”
Dylan nodded and pointed across the service road to a little guard shack. It was the same shack she had once hidden behind. He held up fingers that counted down from three to none, then they ran across the space and ducked down behind the small building.
“Now what?” she asked quietly.
The nearest cover was five hundred yards away, an easy run, but they would be spotted for sure. Kala watched as one of the dead ones wandered out into the grassy area between them and the parked cars. Dylan was quietly scanning the landscape all around them.
“Give me your backpack.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’re slow, that's why, now come on.”
“Fine,” Kala huffed, and shrugged off her supply bag. She maintained a grip on her axe though, she wasn't going anywhere without a weapon in her hand.
Dylan strapped the bag securely over his back, then around his chest and waist. He held the hunting knife in one hand pointing down, and his cap was pulled low on his brow.
“All right, they’re going to see us, but if we just keep running, and watch each other’s backs, we’ll find cover soon,” he said to her, gearing up for the charge. “Try not to make a lot of noise though, that’ll draw them all over here. You ready?”
Kala nodded, “I’m ready, let's do it.”
Dylan nodded. “Okay, go!” he whispered and shot out from behind the cover of the small enclosure like an arrow. He sprinted full out over the grass, the heavy bag not slowing him at all. Kala tried to follow close.
Then, just as she was catching up, something struck her from the side and she went toppling over onto the hard earth with a shriek. Her arm was going numb. What the hell hit me? Then she saw the object. It was a heavy rock, the size of a fist, and then she saw the thrower. No way. He was charging at her fast, mouth open and foamy, huge arms pumping at his sides. The giant was a full thirty yards away but had hit her with the rock like a sledgehammer. Kala struggled to gain her feet and started running again, but there was no way she was going to escape.
�
��Dylan!” she cried out. “Help me!”
Dylan turned without stopping. He looked at her, then swiveled his gaze and took in the charging zombie. Then he looked forward again and continued to charge on ahead of her.
“Dammit Dylan!”
Then the beast was on her, leaping at her from her left side. She dove forward, narrowly avoiding impaling herself on the spiked end of her axe. Mega man flew over the top of her and Kala got up and ran again. She was only a few seconds away from reaching the tear in the chain link fence, then she could hide among the cars there. That was wishful thinking though. The big bastard behind her bellowed and ran her down in only a few steps, grabbing her short hair and pulling her off the ground. She screamed loud and kicked out, hitting him in a groin that no longer registered pain. Gigantor shot a fist out at her, meaning to break her face open. But Kala brought the axe up between them and his fist slammed into the blade with enough force to almost send the spike into her head, again. Oh gross, she thought as she watched the monster’s fist split in two.
He was just as surprised as she was and dropped her to the ground. She rolled to the side, and as he was gaping at his now bifurcated fist, she swung the axe into the back of his knee, bringing him wailing to the ground. Shit, this racket is drawing them all to me. Indeed it was, they were coming from all over the parking lot now. Except the one that had been wandering out here before, she couldn't locate him. I have to shut him up, she thought, then swung the axe like a softball player at the back of his neck, wincing as his decapitated head rolled forward and his body collapsed into a giant muscled heap.
She had no time to recover. Heaving her bloody axe back up to her shoulder, Kala ran again, toward the fence. I can't believe that bastard just left me there! Left me to die! And stole all my supplies, that I gathered! Argh! She was so pissed and blasted through the slit in the chain link without slowing. She would find her car, hopefully no one had stolen it, then she would get the hell out of here. But then where? Anywhere, it didn’t matter, she just needed to get the hell out of here, preferably in a big steel station wagon that could run down zombies.
Ecocide (Dying World Chronicles Book 2) Page 4