Tomorrow We Rise

by Daniel P. Wilde

  “Yes Anta, it’s still happening,” John replied. “And I hate it, from a scientific perspective. From the perspective of the survival of the human race, however, it seems like a good idea. You see, we don’t have contact with any of those people who’ve been inoculated, or the original teams. We only have contact with the Toronto bunker; and the bunker only has contact with the original eight people from their bunker. So we have statistics and information about the original people being inoculated, assuming the information being relayed to us from Toronto is accurate. But we don’t have any information about how many people, if any, are being vaccinated by those who received their inoculations from the original eight. That’s why the plan sucks from a scientific standpoint. But, as you can imagine, in terms of humanity, the more people who are vaccinated the better.”

  “I still don’t like the idea,” Anta said. “If we can’t keep tabs on anybody, what happens when we’ve found everybody still alive and need to regroup and rebuild our society? I guess that’s pretty trivial at this point. But those things worry me some. I agree, though, that from the standpoint of human life, it’s probably a good idea to spread the vaccine the way they are doing it. And, now that we have some fairly good statistics, maybe keeping all the vaccines in-house, so to speak, isn’t necessary.”

  “Well, should we start handing out vaccines?” Street asked. He has been torn between the two viewpoints as well, just like the rest of us.

  “I don’t know,” replied John. “I know Yurgi doesn’t want you to do that. Most of the others here in the bunker agree with Anta’s concerns. My thought is this: if you inoculate someone who you believe could, and would be able to safely vaccinate others, and won’t waste the precious and scarce resource, let ‘em at it. How does that sound?”

  “I think that’s a good plan,” I said. “We still have thousands of doses. Better to use them than to sit around a month from now wondering what to do with them because everybody is already dead. One of the residents here has medical background and appears to be in charge, so maybe we’ll leave a package of 100 vaccinations with him.”

  “Did Lucky or Yurgi ever figure out how Anthrax E, er . . . AE, was released into the bunker?” Angel asked.

  “Nope. Still a mystery.”

  “That’s crazy,” I said. “Are you guys worried about whether you’re safe with some maniac running around in there?”

  “I’m not,” John said. “I’m not a little pansy like you.” He smiled, clearly ribbing me.

  “Well, don’t come crying to us when your heads start getting chopped off,” I said. “We’re kind of busy out here.”

  June 11, 2093—Anta

  “What was that?” Shift asked in a whisper from across the room.

  “It sounded like breaking glass,” I replied, as I sat up in bed. The sound was strange because we knew there was nobody alive in town. It scared me.

  Yesterday afternoon, we arrived at the southern tip of James Bay, at the south end of Hudson Bay. The little town was beautiful, but empty. There were some broken windows and a bit of paper floating down the street on the breeze. Flowers were in bloom everywhere. It just looked like a normal town, but wholly deserted. Really, it was no different than all the other towns we’d traveled through over the past few days.

  After arriving, we searched the town for survivors, using some old loudspeakers we picked up a couple days after leaving the bunker. This had become standard protocol, but hadn’t produced any results yet. After searching for nearly three hours, nobody responded here either.

  Concluding that we were alone, with dark approaching, we found a small, cozy tourist motel for the night. Even though a few of the rooms had dead bodies in them, we easily located two clean and empty adjoining rooms. I quickly fell into a fitful sleep—a form of sleep from which I have suffered nearly every night since January. My sleep is always light, and for good reason I guess.

  “Stay there, let me check it out,” Shift whispered.

  Yeah, right. Shift crept out of bed and slowly tip-toed to the window. I stepped behind him two seconds later.

  Feeling my hand on his back, Shift looked back over his shoulder at me. He smiled. He must have known I wouldn’t sit in bed while he checked out the noise. Shift reached up and parted the curtains just enough for both of us to peak out.

  Street, seemingly brave in the face of all adversity, had left his room and was outside on the balcony near the stairs. As we peered out into the darkness of James Bay, we could see his still form leaning against the railing, looking down to the ground below.I turned from the window to find my jeans. I was going out there too. Less than twenty seconds later, while I was fastening my belt, Shift jumped back from the window letting out a high-pitched and very unmanly shriek.

  “What?” I asked, trying not to laugh at the noise he had made.

  Instead of answering, he took two steps toward the door and opened it, letting Street in. Street’s face was ashen, and surprisingly fearful. I’ve never seen that look on Street’s tough-guy face. He was clearly scared of something.

  “Dude, what’s wrong?” Shift asked as Street turned without speaking and locked the door.

  Angel came through the adjoining door to our room. “Angel, go lock the door, then come back.” Street’s voice was a little shaky.

  “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “There was a guy out there . . .” Street replied.

  “So what?” Angel interrupted in the blunt manner that we had all grown accustomed to.

  “Just do it . . . now,” Street barked. Angel jumped at Street’s tone, then hurried into the adjoining room, returning quickly.

  “Ok. Locked. What’s going on?”

  “The guy was naked. Well, mostly naked. He had boxers or something on, and a hat. But that wasn’t the freaky part.” Street was calming down.

  “So what was it?” I asked.

  “Well, after I woke up; I guess you all heard the window break? Anyway, I jumped out of bed, grabbed my gun, and ran outside. Probably a stupid thing to do; but I figured since there was nobody around, it was probably just an animal. I thought I might be able to get us some fresh meat. So, I got outside and heard sounds coming from below, on the ground floor. I leaned over the railing to see what was down there. That’s when I saw the guy.

  “Just as my eyes were finally adjusting to the darkness down there, he jumped back out of the motel through a window. I mean, he literally jumped. He was carrying a human body. Pretty tough dude, I thought. Still, I wasn’t too worried. I actually thought it was good cuz maybe it meant there were some people alive here. But then he carried the body, a woman it looked like, across the parking lot and dropped her onto the grass over by the side of the road. Then he bent down over her. I thought that was weird. If she was alive, why would he drop her? So I thought maybe she was already dead. But then, why would he carry her out of the motel if she was dead?”

  “So . . .” Angel started to interrupt, but Street went on as if she hadn’t.

  “Even though it’s pretty dark over there on the grass—hard to see—it looked like the naked dude started to eat her. Seriously.”

  “What are you talking about?” Angel asked, clearly not believing the story.

  “He was like a wild animal, Angel. He was eating that girl!”

  Even if Street didn’t see what he thought he saw, I was concerned. I crept back to the window.

  “He’s gone Anta,” Street said. “I shouted to him and he ran away.”

  “Yeah, doesn’t look like he’s out there now; but neither is any woman’s body,” I said.

  “Maybe he came back and got her,” Street said, nervous.

  “Let’s go check it out,” I said. “Maybe he’s still around.”

  “Uh, I don’t want to go out there Anta,” Street replied. “There was something very weird and scary about him. I don’t know what it was, and I ain’t no wimp, you know, but something tells me we should stay in here, at least until morning.”

  “O
kay Street, if that’s what you think we should do, I trust you. Let’s stay in here until first light.”

  Street visibly relaxed after I agreed with him. Frankly, if Street was that scared of something, I wasn’t too inclined to argue about it.

  If Street did, indeed, see the man eat another human body, I can only speculate regarding the cause of such an atrocity. Of course, my speculation is only that; but if a man has become so desperate that he’s now eating diseased, dead, human bodies, then such a man is in awful straits and I don’t wish to approach him with a vaccination. I hope that we don’t run into him tomorrow on our way out of town.

  June 12—Shift

  The half-naked man from yesterday never reappeared and the only sign that he had been there was the broken window—broken from the inside—and some flattened grass where he had laid the body in the field. There may have been blood on some of the grass, but it was hard to tell.

  Our travel went smoothly from Hudson Bay to Mistassini. We were traveling very slowly, past and through small towns and rural villages. As we passed through those fairly isolated communities, I couldn’t help but think about all the innocent human life lost.

  The people in those towns never did anything to deserve their fate. They probably just led their lives, peacefully, fishing or farming, or whatever it is they do up here in these small Canadian towns. When AE arrived, they probably didn’t even know what had hit them.

  Nobody in any of the towns we’ve passed through have responded to our calls through the speakers. Seeing no life, and having no report from Mike that any life exists in most of them, we rarely stop, except to get supplies and eat as necessary.

  Tonight, Mike informed us that our next stop with people presumably alive will be Labrador City. There, we hope to find as many as 150 living, although those numbers are today’s numbers, not tomorrow’s. Mike also surprised us with the news that they have finally made contact with Anta’s brother on the moon, although the connection was weak and faded in and out. We hope to be linked up with them soon.

  June 14, 2093—Labrador City—Anta

  “Hasani! I’m so glad to see you again!” I said, unable to contain my excitement.

  “Anta, you look great!” Hasani replied, obviously equally excited.

  “These are my colleagues and friends,” I continued. “You know Shift; and this is Dr. Angel Robertson and Mr. Threet “Street” Kimball.”

  “The American football player?”

  “Yes, the American football player. But he’s much more than that.”

  Street ducked his head to try to get out of the Holo image. I didn’t know the guy was bashful. A recent development?

  “Then let me introduce my friends,” Hasani said. “This is Dr. Jonas Sampson, from the United States.” Hasani pointed to a handsome man, probably 45 to 50 years old, wearing wire-rimmed glasses. He had dark brown hair, cut short and parted down the middle. He had an intense, but kind look. “He’s an astrophysicist by trade and is the wonderful man who found the rest of us and told us what was going on in the early days.

  “This is Dr. Thomas Bird and Misty Bird, also from the United States. Dr. Bird is a physician, specializing in family medicine. Misty is a former CEO of some major corporation and an amazing cook, despite our limited cooking resources here.”

  The Birds were an older couple, probably in their early 70s. Mrs. Bird had that kind, gentle, grandmotherly look. I liked her without her having said a single word. Dr. Bird was, likewise, a kind-looking older man. As a doctor, I imagined his patients loved and cared for him, and likely trusted him completely.

  “And this is Dr. Jerad Beaudoin, from Gorges, France,” Hasani continued. “Dr. Beaudoin is a shuttle pilot and aeronautical engineer.” Dr. Beaudoin, unlike the others, was stern-looking and stood tall and firm. He had the appearance of one who felt he had earned respect, and thus, demanded it.

  “It’s nice to meet you all,” I said. I meant it.

  Previously, I had spoken with my brother, Hasani, through the holos, but all other communications with the group on the moon had been made via the various logs and databases set up for such communication. This was a real treat.

  After a few more pleasantries, and catching up a bit, Hasani told us that Dr. Sampson, Dr. Bird and Dr. Beaudoin had just created E-rase utilizing the formulations and methods discovered by Dr. Shevchuk! They told Shevchuk and the others at the bunker yesterday. They’re somewhat wary of using it, though, because they have nobody on which to first test it. I get that.

  “I don’t know much about the formulations,” Shift began, “but I thought there was some ‘ingredient’ that was a little hard to come by, even on Earth. You must have found some of it.”

  “Yes, we did,” Dr. Bird replied. “We had to search all of the unoccupied shells. One of them was a botanical farm. We are very fortunate.”

  “So, what are you going to do now—I mean, to test it?” Angel asked. “What if the disease manifests in the test subject?” Again, Angel’s curiosity in matters of morbidity is fascinating. The look on her face as she asked those questions, which continued as she received an answer, is grossly intriguing.

  “I’m going to be injected,” Hasani said.

  Whoa.

  “Hasani, I don’t think . . .” I began. But he cut me off mid-sentence.

  “Anta, I know what you think,” Hasani said. “This is dangerous. I could die. We could all die. I’m all you’ve got left. I know. But everybody here has lost all of their loved ones. My life is no more valuable than theirs. I feel like, somehow, it’s my duty to do this.”

  I didn’t reply, but instead, looked down. I didn’t know whether Hasani saw it, but a tear slipped down my check and dropped into my lap.

  So Hasani volunteered to be injected with their version of E-rase. He will be isolated, then injected, and will stay locked up until they are sure it did not infect him—five or six days from now—pursuant to detailed instructions from Dr. Shevchuk. Then, Hasani will leave his isolation unit and enter an outpost containing a deceased, diseased body. He will be required to get up close and personal with the body, to be sure the live bacteria has entered his body. He’ll stay there for eight more days awaiting infection or proof that the vaccine was properly created.

  Within 14 days, they, and hopefully we, will have the good news that all is well for them and they will be able to travel freely among the moon colonies, for whatever purposes they may have for doing so.

  “So, what are you going to do if it works?” Shift asked.

  “Well, we’ve been doing a lot of work up here to try to figure out what resources the various shells have available,” Dr. Sampson said. “What we’d like to do is come home.”

  “Is that possible?” Shift asked.

  “I think that it is,” replied Dr. Beaudoin with a charming French accent. “It is a simple matter of piloting a craft back to Earth, which I have done and am fully capable of doing again. Assuming there are still operational craft, that is. And we have no reason to believe that the various craft at the international station are in any state of disrepair.”

  “Wow!” Shift remarked. “That would be amazing! Right Anta?”

  “Yes,” I choked out. After composing myself a moment, I continued, “Hasani, you have always been the bravest of our family. I’m proud of you. Come home safe to me.”

  “Thanks Anta. I will.”

  “How did you guys get back in contact with the bunker anyway?” Shift asked.

  “It’s a wonderful story, Shift,” Hasani replied. “As you know, the connection has been down for a long time—I think it went down in mid-March, if I’m not mistaken. But none of us are so-called ‘computer geeks’. We didn’t know why or how it had happened. We were eventually able to trace our connection to a central hub somewhere in the international station. But we couldn’t see exactly where the line was broken. Of course, even if we knew where the problem was, there’s no way for us to get there yet. It’s too dangerous without the inoculatio
n. Anyway, two days ago, Mrs. Bird was checking the monitor and saw the line come back on. She called us all in and we watched the line go in and out for a few minutes. Then it stayed on.”

  “What have you found out about it?” I asked.

  “Well, that’s the wonderful part of this. There’s someone else alive here!”

  “Really?” Angel asked.

  “Yes, really,” Hasani replied. “Because we had a connection again, we started hitting all the channels trying to find someone. We learned afterward that another gentleman was doing the same. Finally, we got him. He’s in the German outpost. Alone unfortunately. But he’s alive and healthy! He said he has been trying to contact his colleagues in Brazil, but has been unable to do so for some time. He said they abandoned him, whatever he meant by that.”

  “Yeah, what does that mean?” Shift asked.

  “Well,” Hasani said, “I asked him but he ignored it. It was kind of like he didn’t want to talk about it. So we let it go. We’ve all been abandoned here after all.”

  “Maybe he’s immune,” Angel said.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Hasani said. “Or maybe he has been using canned air and wearing a space suit all this time. I’ll certainly be asking. Anyway, he said he found the connection problem and fixed it and that was when we saw the connection go live again.”

  “So, what are you going to do about the guy? What do you know about him?” I asked.

  “His name is Alan Stein. He’s from Connecticut,” Dr. Sampson replied. “And we know he’s a computer guy with some governmental agency. We know he’s healthy, but scared and alone. At least he says he’s healthy. We weren’t on a holo, so we couldn’t actually see the guy. He’s been alone for months.”

  “If he’s from Connecticut, why did he say he was trying to contact colleagues in Brazil who abandoned him?” I asked.

  “Hmm, we hadn’t thought about that,” Dr. Sampson replied for Hasani. “We’ll ask him a bit more about himself when we talk again. He sounded pretty tired. He wants us to come get him, or to tell him how to get to us.”