Tears of Blood

by Rachel Martin

  “They’ve gone, the houses are connected.”

  “Find ‘em.”

  He looks one direction then the next. Somehow he knows which way we went. He starts climbing over the wall, slowly, gingerly, trying not to tear his suit. No point in trying to hide now. I switch on my torch. There is no handle to pull the attic hatch up with. Oh no. But, if it’s anything like ours, the wood is relatively thin. I look about frantically and grab an old metal pole from the dusty floor. I smash down into the hatch trying to break the wood. I smash it down again. Nothing, I try again, and again, still nothing, he is getting closer, slowly. Oh no, I see more of the men in orange emerge up into our attic. Come on Izzy, I focus on the pole and the hatch. I smash down again, and again, smash, smash. Nothing. I close my eyes. I absorb the calm. I hold my breath. I feel an energy flowing around me, it caresses my face.

  “You can do it,” my brother whispers whimsically.

  I lift the pole as high as I can gripping both my hands around it. I give it all my might. Out of nowhere, I have the power. The fear and the darkness has coalesced within me. It is me. I am the darkness. I am becoming more, I feel it. The wood smashes into pieces and falls into the room below. I peer down into the house. We’re above a hallway with a green carpet. The smell of death floods up and into the ceiling. I gasp. Olly winces.

  “We have to go,” I say.

  He nods. I grab his hand and lower him down through the hatch.

  “Be brave my little soldier,” I tell him, “it’s not that far, bend your knees as you hit the ground.”

  “OK, Iz,” he says looking up at me.

  I lower him down, leaning as far out of the hatch as I can. He only has to drop about two foot or so.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  He nods, and I drop him. He hits the ground and rolls out of view.

  “Olly,” I call, “Olly, are you OK? Olly, Olly?”

  “Yes,” he says rushing to stand beneath the hatch.

  “Good, OK.”

  I take off my rucksack, and as I do I glance over the walls. The soldiers are slowly and carefully edging closer and closer. Only a few more houses to go until they are on top of us. Breathe Izzy, breathe. In through the nose out through the mouth. I drop my rucksack through the hatch. Olly pulls it out of the way. I climb down. I hang, I close my eyes, and hold my breath. You can do this. You can do this. I let go and fall to the floor below. Olly starts laughing, jumping up and down, clapping his hands. I laugh too when I see his happy little face. He thinks it’s a game. I grab my bag and pull it on. No time to wait.

  “Come on,” I say, grabbing Olly’s hand.

  We run down the stairs, out through the front door and into the little front garden. I stop and glance above the hedge and down the street. There are scores of soldiers and God knows who else. They are all dressed in bright orange contamination suits, hanging about on the streets, busying themselves. Some of them are holding electronic devices. Others are dragging frozen bodies off the pavements. Two of them pick up a body, one at the head, one at the feet. They swing the body back and forth then let it go chucking it up on to a pile of bodies on a trailer. My parents are on there somewhere. That thought makes my skin burn. I watch as tractors and trucks pull the trailers. One of the men in orange is sitting in the driver’s seat of a tractor, dishing out instructions, like the conductor of an orchestra. The amount of bodies being pulled up and out of the snow is jaw-dropping. I stand and stare for a second. I don’t mean to, but I can’t help it. This new reality is something to behold. Thank God it’s cold and has been snowing so much, else, well, it’s not worth contemplating really, is it? Behind the pile of bodies is another truck and trailer. It is being filled with anything decent they find in the houses. I tear my eyes away, this is no time to stop and stare. I can’t look. I won’t look. We have to go. I can hear the soldiers in the roof shouting, they have reached this house. Shit.

  I pull the gate just as another soldier steps out from behind a car in front of us. Olly and I both drop behind the bush. Shit. He walks past the gate. Far too close. My heart stops. There is a strange magnetism pulling me. The pressure has risen. What the fuck is happening? It was him. That man. I’ve seen him before. I know I have. My whole life seems to stampede before my eyes, though nothing is any clearer. It is all muddled, I am confused. What the fuck…? What the… what is happening to me? I’m sure he saw me too. He turns our way, but the visor on his suit reflects only grey clouds. He is like a faceless ghost. What is he doing? His foot scuffs the pavement. He hesitates but keeps on walking straight passed us. I shake my head. No time to ponder. I drag Olly through the gate and away in the opposite direction.

  No one knows these back streets, lanes, and paths better than me. We weave around corner after corner, down back-ends, nooks and crannies, through gardens. But it’s useless our footprints in the snow are like a massive arrow pointing directly at us. Then I hear it, bark, bark, bark. My head feels like it’s going to explode.

  “Come on Ol,” I try to run faster and faster but it is difficult with the amount of snow that has built up leaving deep fresh prints. We climb over fences, through wooded thickets to try and hide our trail. I weave us between the endless parked cars on the roads, over frozen bodies on the frozen street. We keep running through driveways, on hidden footpaths between hedges, over roundabouts, everywhere, and anywhere to get away. But wherever we go we still hear the ominous sound of bark, bark, bark, bark; they are getting closer and closer and closer.

  Then, oh no, I can hear their scratchy nails fighting the snow on the road behind us. I dart off between the cars towards a house. They are almost on top of us. Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God. Bark, bark, bark, bark, four huge Alsatians, teeth on display, growling, edging closer, bark, bark, bark, bark. Oh fuck, oh no, Jesus, what to do? What to do? What to do? I stop and pick Olly up. I hold him close and step backwards towards a fence. If I go slowly enough, maybe I will able to get to it before we are completely out of time. But it’s far too late, we are surrounded. They begin circling us. I can’t move. I look one way, then the other, frantically looking for an escape. There is none to be found. They edge ever closer, and closer still. I begin hyperventilating. What am I going to do? Their heads are down ready to attack. Their noses are wrinkled. They keep barking the signal. Then I hear the unmistakable sound of stomping boots. The soldiers are running towards us. They are not far off now. Oh my God.

  “What are we going to do, what are we going to do?” I keep repeating in a mumbled frenzy.

  Olly wriggles himself out of my hands and drops to the floor. He puts his hand in his pocket. He steps towards the dogs.

  “No, Olly.” I grab his hood and try to pull him back.

  He stops dead, turns and stares at me with such a deep intensity, I am impelled to let go of his hood, as if it has grown hot. My mouth drops open and at that moment there is a sudden break in the clouds, the sun penetrates. I am bathed in relative warmth, and flooded by a serene sense of peace, as if I am being lifted, as if I am weightless. It is happening again. Olly’s eyes are glinting now, the sunlight is reflecting off the green in his eyes, they are bleeding into me. I actually see him, for who he is, for who he is going to be. He blinks slowly, knowingly, to pacify me. He turns and faces the lead dog. There is a moment. The barking ceases. The dogs cock their heads. The anger has dissipated from their faces. The lead dog noses Olly’s arm. My mouth hangs open. Olly pulls out a handful of dried out old bacon pieces. What the Hell...? Olly throws some bacon for each of the dogs. He strokes each one of them on the head while mumbling something under his breath. It doesn’t make any sense. I cannot comprehend the words, yet I feel their familiarity, as if they are extracting a lost part of me, as if my body understands but my brain does not. I am enchanted. What is he doing? How is he doing it? How is he making me feel this way? How did he learn those strange words? Everything around us seems to fade to white. I have forgotten where we are and what we are doing. I am only interested in him. He
has pacified me, and he has pacified the dogs too, absolutely.

  “Ace,” one of the soldiers yells. “Ace,” he screams louder.

  I shudder. I am back in the moment. One of the dogs turns his head. He shakes himself down. He ignores it. The dogs begin to nuzzle up to Olly. They want him to pet them. They probably haven’t had such treats for a long time, poor working dogs. I take hold of Olly’s hand and pull him around. I cup his face in my hands and kiss him.

  “Clever little thing, aren’t you?” I say, tapping him on the nose. He wrinkles it.

  The footsteps begin again. They are so close, too close.

  “Come on, Olly,” I say, grabbing his hand again.

  He whispers something to Ace, the dogs turn and thread back the way they came. We turn in the opposite direction and run. We jump over bodies, treading into the unbroken snow. As we disappear into the distance, we hear the soldiers shouting at the dogs. We hear them yelp. I feel sorry for them, but what can I do? We have to keep running further and further away, deep into the maze of the city.

  seven

  A sparkling bright diamond light is blinking into my eyes. I feel as if I am encased within a rose-tinted aura. I am cocooned. I am warm. I am content, happy even. My face feels warm. There is a smile upon it, non-conscious, pure. I must have been dreaming. I turn my head to stop the light waking me up any more than it already has. I think I am in my bed. I think I have all my things around me. I can almost hear my parents’ downstairs making breakfast, getting ready for work, getting ready for the day ahead. I can almost smell the bacon and coffee. I think I can hear Olly watching his cartoons, laughing, giggling, playing with his toys. I feel completely normal... Almost. The pain in my shoulder suddenly materialises out of nowhere. I remember. The heavy bag pulling me down, digging into me, the running, the desperation, the fear. It hits me all at once, in one horrifying and sudden wave of misery. It has beaten me down already, and the day has only just begun. What to do? What to do? What to do? I am lost and confused once more. Only in my waking moments will I ever know that feeling of blissful ignorance again. I need it, I revel in it. I live a thousand lives in it. But, it is actually making things worse. Oh, what to do? I wish I could forget. I wish I could have been born into a time when the world was already like this, at least then I would never know anything different. I wouldn’t have this overwhelming sense of loss tearing me apart, filling me with blackness… but I wasn’t, was I? I have to suffer. I have to struggle through.

  I turn over in the strange bed, in the strange room, in the strange house, in the strange street, in the strange new world. Why us? Why did this have to happen to us? But… what was the alternative, a horrible death? Bleeding out of our eyes. Our insides liquefying. The sickness. No, that would be worse, much, much worse, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it? Maybe? Maybe not? I’m not so sure anymore. A few hours of pain, subdued by tablets seems preferable right now actually. I am drowning in regret. It is clouding my mind, filling me with anguish, making me blind. What hope do we have? What will the future hold? How will we survive?

  I look at Olly. He is sound asleep. His sweet little face is devoid of worry, devoid of bad dreams, devoid of the haunting reality. Even in his dreams he smiles and warms me. I try and imagine what he is dreaming about. I close my eyes to join him, and I am suddenly serenaded by a kaleidoscope of colours, all mixing and merging and creating beautiful symmetrical patterns. There are bubbles, floating up and away, light as air, free as oxygen, rainbows are reflected in their delicate transparent surfaces. Animals start popping out of the bubbles. Horses, no unicorns galloping down in cascading waves of colour and life. It is radiant, serene. Love. There are dogs, and puppies, cats, and kittens. We are under the sea. I see starfish, and happy crustaceans, they are doing a dance. Oh the imagination of youth. How I wish to sleep like that once more. His innocence is absolute. I wish I could save him from this bleak, tired world. But, I pray to be able to protect him from the worst. That is my motivation. I am so glad he is with me, without him I would be totally alone, going mad, with nothing to fight for except eternal solitude. I have hope yet. The darkness in my heart is dissolving by degrees as I look down upon his little sleeping angelic face.

  In the old world, I used to shout at him so much. I was angry whenever he came into my room and touched my stuff, or talked too much, asking too many strange questions, questions which made me uncomfortable, questions similar to the ones I had repressed, deep in the darkness of my past. I can’t believe how annoyed I used to get at watching his stupid cartoons. But now, here with me, sharing a bed, he can do no wrong. We are united as one. He is my reason, and I am his. Together we are strong. Oh, I am so glad for Olly. I snuggle closer and put my arm around him. I have to be strong. I have to hold it together, I have to, I have to, I have to. I watch him, and I can’t help but twist his blonde locks around my finger. I kiss his forehead gently.

  “I’ll protect you,” I whisper. “I promise I will protect you.”

  And I really mean it. But, right now, all I wish for is to sleep, to dream, to imagine what can be, for just a few more hours of unreality. Just so I can have that blissful waking second. I nestle in closer to him. I feel warm with him. I feel safe. But my mind wanders. I cannot sleep. I worry that at any moment someone will come barging in and take us away. I shudder. I cannot imagine anything worse than being captured and used for experiments, to be tested on. The threat is real. We are immunes after all.

  As my body relaxes back down into the thick, soft mattress I suddenly realise how rested I feel. I feel much better than I have since all this started, since we’ve been camping in the attic. This is just another reminder of how modern civilisation pampered us, and how we never really appreciated it. I lay and think. In fact, I feel better than I have for the past few years. I know this is a luxury. I know feeling safe is a luxury, as is heating, and hot food. But then, I remember that today was my essay due date, and I realise that this new world does have its advantages. No more deadlines, no more homework pressures, no more inconsequential worries, no more living up to unrealistic expectations, no more being a disappointment to the family. It really is the small things that count, and those are the things I never noticed before. I wonder. Perhaps this isn’t as bad as all that after all. I have this niggling feeling emanating out of the darkness and entangling within me. It is forcing me to acknowledge that somehow I knew this was going to happen. It was in the universal consciousness. It was in literature, film, and music, we all knew it was going to happen, we were all waiting for it, willing it. I am starting to think that we have willed it into existence by concentrating on it and imagining it, over and over and over, and I am one of the survivors. Humanity has chosen me; evolution has chosen me. Why? I have to go on. I have to discover the future. I have to know why some of us are so much more. I have to know what that means... I am starting to convince myself that things were always meant to be this way. Things couldn’t carry on as they were. As a species, we were abusing everything. How can I think like this, as if we deserved it? But maybe we did. Is that the truth? Is this my mind protecting itself? Perhaps that is closer to reality. I think the mind will do anything to protect itself. The mind needs protecting above any other organ. Without it, what would happen? I need to survive. I need to find a way of thinking that will allow me to survive, that will compel me to. I have to survive for all of mankind. To keep on going, to remember the time before, to carry all the good parts through onto the bright new dawn.

  I delve into the deep recesses of my mind and recall my life. I was unhappy, so unhappy. My life didn’t feel real. It was like I was existing on some pre-designed route that wasn’t my own, and hadn’t quite materialised as a real tangible possibility. Yet, there was no alternative path to follow. I was lost and confused and I was not living up to expectations. At least that’s what I thought anyway. I was always hoping that tomorrow would be the day I finally become the person who I was supposed to be. But that version of me never arose, and now I
am something else. And as every day passes, I am drifting further and further away from that ideal person and turning into something entirely different. Yes, I spent the last few years of my life hoping to become an ‘A’ star student, hoping to become studious, hoping to become popular, hoping to get a good job, and wishing I could get up at six every morning without fail, without feeling like it was a torture. I hated everything I was supposed to be, not because I didn’t want it, but because it wasn’t me, and most of all I hated myself for not being that person, for not being perfect, for not being able to be perfect, despite my deepest desires. I was waiting. Breaking out was a dream. I was trapped, wishing, wanting, waiting for something else to come along, something other, something exciting, something to really live for. All I ever wanted was something to fight for, something I could really believe in, something that was mine, without doubt. Little did I know that my wishes would be fulfilled so perversely. Now I have it, as perverse as it is, perhaps things will get better. I hope things will get better. Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

  I sink into the mattress and stare up at the ceiling. We can’t stay here much longer. The soldiers might find our footprints. But then again, it snowed last night. A memory flickers, a moment caught in the eternity of time. A single snowflake fell before the rest and landed on Olly’s nose. For the briefest of moments, I could see its intricate pattern, all its beauty and wonder. It was telling me the story of its life in the symmetry of its design. I wanted to know more. I wanted to un-tap the secrets. I still want to, but it melted almost instantly. Gone forever, and at the moment it evaporated, the Sun disappeared, and we were plunged in darkness so profound it felt like I had gone blind. We felt the light snow falling all around. It was magical. Then I wanted to use my torch. But Olly found a new way to see, without eyes, and I became a believer. He led us here, to this house in the darkness… Strange.