by Amy Cross
“I'll assemble the council,” he replies, cutting the radio call. “Lizzie, I have to go and supervise this situation. I don't know what's wrong with those people, but lately there have been far too many incursions. The guards are getting sloppy.”
“Should I come?” I ask.
“No, you stay here.” He hurries to the door. “I'll probably be busy all night, so I'll see you in the morning. Don't worry, we're all perfectly safe. This really does happen on a semi-regular basis at the moment, and we always manage to scoop them up before they can cause any major trouble.”
“But -”
Before I can finish the sentence, he's gone. I sit and listen to his footsteps hurrying away, before turning and looking down at my food. After a moment, I hear a brief burst of gunfire in the distance, followed by a few angry shouts. Getting up from the chair, I limp to the window and look out at the dark city, and seconds later a bright red flare lights up the night sky for a moment.
Despite everything my father said a moment ago, I don't feel safe at all.
Thomas
“You were gone a long time,” Melissa says as I sit next to her by the campfire she's built on the lake-shore. “I was starting to -”
She stops suddenly as soon as she sees the cuts on my face.
“Oh my God, Thomas, what happened to you?”
“Nothing,” I reply, setting some of the cans down in front of her. “I went to the bunker where Leonard was hiding and I found these . There's more, too. I'm going to go back tomorrow.”
“You're hurt,” she continues, hurrying over to me.
“I'm not.”
She reaches up to touch the side of my face, but I pull away.
“I'm going back at sunrise,” I tell her. “I want to get everything I can.”
“We'll come with you.”
“No, it's not a good...” I pause for a moment, thinking back to the girl who begged me to kill her. When I passed her again on the way back from the bunker, she'd finally died. “It's not a nice place to be,” I continue. “You shouldn't take Katie there, and you can't leave her here alone, so it's better if I get the job done.” I look over at Katie and see that she's sleeping nearby. “How's she doing?”
“She saw a lot of bad things.”
“I'm sure she'll be okay,” I continue. “I mean, I hope...” Sighing, I realize that weak platitudes aren't helpful at all. “Over time,” I say finally, “she'll forget most of it, and she'll be able to figure out the rest.”
“You look like you got into a fight,” Melissa replies.
“I bumped into Leonard,” I explain. “Don't worry, though. He won't be bothering you again.”
“Did you...” She stares at me, as if she's suddenly scared. “Did you kill him?”
“It was self-defense.”
“How did you -”
“Can we talk about something else?” I reply, trying not to let her see that I'm irritated. “He's dead, that's the most important thing.”
“And are you sure there's no-one else around?”
“Pretty sure. I think you've got this part of the lake to yourself, at least. I guess other people might show up eventually, but even that's a long shot.”
“We're going to try fishing tomorrow,” she replies, looking out at the darkness beyond the fire's flickering light. “If we're going to make a home here, we need to learn to live off the local resources.” She pauses for a moment, before turning back to me. “I was thinking about what we said earlier. I know I acted like it didn't matter, but the truth is, I'd really like it if you stick around. I mean, Katie can't help, not really, and all it would take would be for me to get hurt somehow and we might...” She pauses. “Well, you know what I mean. It'd be good if you could stay.”
“For now,” I tell her.
She smiles.
“I might not be here forever, though,” I continue, trying not to let her see that my shoulder's hurting more than ever. “I was thinking I'd take the truck soon and go looking further afield. I'd come back in a week or two, but I can't just sit here and do nothing, I feel like I'm going to go crazy.”
“I don't want to do anything that draws those helicopters back,” she replies. “I even thought twice about building the campfire but, to be honest, we were so cold, I was worried we'd freeze to death.”
“I have to find a city,” I tell her, still hiding the pain in my shoulder as I try to come up with an excuse for my departure in a few days' time. The truth is, I think I'm putting them in danger by staying, so the only option is for me to make sure they're okay and then get out of the way. “It's worth a shot, anyway.”
“But you saw those helicopters,” she points out. “Maybe the cities are dangerous.”
“They're our only hope,” I reply, still staring out at the darkness. “People are going to be gathering in the cities and starting to put things right. I'll just go, find out what's happening, and then I'll come back and let you know.”
We sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of water lapping at the shore just a few meters away.
“You promise?” she asks eventually.
I open my mouth to answer, but for a few seconds I can't bring myself to lie. “Sure,” I tell her eventually. “I promise.”
“You're dying,” Joe's voice to me whispers from the darkness. “That thing bit you, and now you're gonna get sick. Face it, Tommy... How many days do you really think you've got left?”
Day 58
(Mass Extinction Event 4.5)
Elizabeth
“Dad's being weird,” Henry says sulkily. “I went into his office and he had all these bits of paper on his desk, and it was like he was scared I might see them.”
“He probably didn't want you messing them up,” I reply, trying to focus on the book I've been reading all evening. As I stare at the page, however, I realize that the letters are dancing into one another, and no matter how many times I try to read each line, nothing makes sense.
“No, stupid,” Henry continues, “it was more than that. I saw one of the papers, it had a photo of this woman in a hospital bed. She looked really sick.”
“So you think Dad's having an affair with someone?” I ask, raising a skeptical eyebrow but not looking up from the book. “Get real.”
“I just think he's doing stuff at work that he doesn't want us to know about.”
Finally I turn to him.
“What?” he asks. “He might be lying. Maybe he's a spy!”
Hearing a creaking sound, like a door opening, I look around, but there's no sign of anyone.
“Maybe he's like James Bond,” Henry continues. “Older and less fit, obviously, and more of a doctor than someone who goes on adventures, but -”
“Wake up,” a voice hisses.
I look over at the window, and then back at Henry, and then suddenly I feel myself rising up through darkness until I open my eyes and find that someone's nudging my shoulder in the dark room, disturbing me from another dream about my old life. Rolling onto my back, I blink a couple of times and finally I realize that Charles is looking down at me.
“Hey,” he continues, keeping his voice low. “There's no need to worry, but we have to move you right now.”
***
“There's a secure room in the basement,” he explains a few minutes later, using a torch to light our way as we head down the stairwell. “You'll probably only be in there for a couple of hours. Like I told you, this is almost certainly a false alarm.”
“A false alarm for what?” I ask, limping down the stairs behind him and still feeling as if I'm half-asleep. That dream was so vivid and strange, it was almost as if my mind was trying to use Henry in order to tell me something.
“Six people got past the main barrier,” he continues. “Four of them were caught a few hours ago, but we're still looking for the other two. There's no indication that they've got anywhere close to penetrating the main part of the city, but the council want to take every possible precaution, so non-secur
ity personnel are being put into the basement holding area.”
“Where's my father?” I ask as we reach the building's foyer and he leads me over to another door.
“Where do you think he is?” Charles replies, pulling the door open and leading me down another set of steps. “He's out there coordinating everything.”
“Sure, but -”
We both stop suddenly as we hear the sound of gunfire. It doesn't sound too close, but it's closer than the brief burst I heard last night and when I turn back to Charles I can see the look of concern on his face.
“Was that in the main part of the city?” I ask cautiously.
“Of course not,” he replies, grabbing my hand and forcing me to follow him further down into the dark basement. “This happens about once a month. If there's been an attempted intrusion incident, the council has to know that the individuals involved have been repelled. It's not good enough to just assume they're gone.” He leads me to another door and takes a moment to unlock it. “Besides, this way you get to meet Natalie.”
“Who?”
“Oh,” he says quietly, “you're in for such a treat.”
He pushes the door open, to reveal a small room lit by several bright strip-lights running across the ceiling. It's a pretty bare space, and I'm pretty sure it's actually some kind of maintenance facility or boiler-room, but there's a table and a few chairs, and a couple of board-games have been piled on a nearby shelf. As I'm led inside, I don't immediately notice that there's someone else in here but finally I spot her: a girl with long blonde hair and dark, ringed eyes is sitting in the corner, watching us with an expression of extreme disdain.
“Natalie Gordon,” Charles says with a smile, “I want you to meet Elizabeth Marter. Lizzie, this is Natalie. She's the daughter of one of the other council members.”
“Hi,” I say, trying to sound friendly.
Natalie merely stares at me.
“So I have to go back up-top now,” Charles continues, heading back to the door, “but there's food and drink down here and someone will come to either let you out or update you in a couple of hours. Try to have fun, ladies.”
“Wait,” I reply as he shuts the door, “you can't just -”
Before I can finish, I hear him turning the key in the lock, followed by the sound of him heading back upstairs.
“Seriously?” I continue, turning to Natalie. “They're locking us in here?”
She stares at me, and finally she scrunches her nose up.
“I'm Elizabeth,” I tell her.
No reply.
“I guess you already knew that,” I mutter. “So I guess our parents work together, huh?”
No reply.
Forcing a smile, I limp around the table and take a look at the board-games. Some kind soul has left us with a copy of Monopoly and a chess set. I guess, given that the world has pretty much crumbled all around us, this isn't a bad haul.
“Do you want to play something?” I ask, turning to Natalie.
She stares at me blankly.
“Benedict,” I say after a moment, tilting my head to read the tattoo on her forearm. “Who's -”
“None of your business,” she mutters, pulling her sleeve down. Her voice sounds surprisingly harsh and gravelly for someone who's clearly only a few years older than me
“Sorry, I just -”
“Benedict is the name of my middle finger,” she continues, raising that particular finger in my direction. “Happy now?”
I open my mouth to reply, but it's pretty clear that she doesn't want to talk. I start looking through the board-games, just so I can pretend to be busy. After a moment I see a name written on the Monopoly box.
“James,” I whisper, feeling a hint of sadness as I realize that the handwriting looks it belonged to a child. “Where are you now, James? How did your stuff end up here?”
“What's wrong with your foot?” Natalie asks suddenly.
“I, er...” Looking down, I see that although there's still a bandage on my right foot, a hint of blood has already leaked through. “I got it cut off,” I explain, “and then it was put back on. Well, sort of. It's a long story, actually. You won't believe this, but -”
“It smells gross.”
“It does not!”
“Does too.”
“It doesn't smell,” I say firmly. “Believe me, I've been watching out for that.”
“Well it's gonna smell,” she continues, making no attempt to hide her absolute disgust. “They'd better let us out of here before I have to put up with it. I'm gonna throw up if I have to be near it too much.”
“I really don't -”
“We're not friends,” she adds.
“No,” I reply, “I can tell that.”
“And just 'cause we're in here together, that doesn't mean we have to become friends.” She stares at me for a moment. “You know how, in films, two totally different people get stuck together and eventually they find, like, common points and they start to understand each other? That's not gonna happen with us.”
“You're probably right,” I tell her. “So you think we're totally different, huh?”
“Well, yeah,” she replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, I'm...” Her voice trails off for a moment. “Well, and you're not...” Another pause, and then the fakest smile I've ever seen spreads across he face. “We obviously have very different priorities,” she adds finally, “in terms of personal appearance and things like that.”
“Oh,” I reply, slightly taken aback.
“Just because the fucking world is ending,” she continues, “that doesn't mean there's no need to take pride in things.” She pauses again. “You're new, aren't you?”
“I just arrived a few days ago,” I reply, even though I'm starting to really dislike her now.
“Did they spray you down?”
“I'm sorry?”
“I was just thinking, they ought to spray people down when they're new. With a hose. Or quarantine them. Or, you know, just not let anyone in at all. That, I believe, is the official policy.” She looks up at the ceiling as the lights flicker. “I can't believe people would risk what we've got here by trying to break into the city. It's totally selfish. I hope they catch the other two and shoot them in the head like they did with the others.”
“They shot the others?” I ask, even though I'd already guessed as much.
“Shoot on sight and shoot to kill,” she replies, turning back to me. “It's the only way those monsters will ever learn. At least, that's what my father says, and he must be right, mustn't he? 'Cause he's a goddamn saint, and all.”
“I'm not sure they're monsters,” I point out.
She rolls her eyes.
“They just desperate people,” I continue. “It's like -”
“It's like they don't get it,” she replies, interrupting me. “My father and the rest of the council, including your father, have worked out how to make the city run perfectly. We have enough people, we don't need to risk letting others come storming in. If that sounds harsh, then fine, it's harsh, but I'd rather be harsh than dead from some sickness.” She stares at me for a moment longer. “So you're sure you're not ill, right? It'd be just my luck to get put in a room with someone who's got the plague or whatever the hell it is.”
“I think you'll be okay,” I reply, limping over to the door and trying the handle.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Just checking,” I mutter, finding that the door's definitely locked.
“We have to stay down here until the danger's over,” she reminds me, starting to sound a little agitated. “It's not safe for us up there. Didn't Daddy tell you?”
“I know it's not safe,” I reply under my breath, “but the atmosphere might be a little better.”
“Are you a soldier?”
“Me?” I turn to her. “Hell, no.”
“Then sit down and let the soldiers do soldier things. They put us down here for a reason. You ha
ve to trust them.”
“Are you a soldier?” I ask.
“Go to hell.” She pauses. “I've seen things. Things that'd make your head fall off. There's a time and a place for everything, and right now we have to stay down here.”
“I don't think we've got much choice,” I reply, turning and looking back over at the table. In the distance, I hear a faint thumping sound which might be a helicopter passing overhead. “Are you sure you don't want to play chess?” I ask.
“No, I don't want to play chess.”
“What about -”
“I just want to sit here and keep my mouth shut. It's a fun game, wanna play?”
Turning to her, I realize that I just need to ride this thing out. With a faint smile, I head over to the table, open the chess set and start setting the pieces up, figuring I'll just play against myself.
A few minutes later, somewhere up ahead but definitely closer than before, there's more gunfire.
Thomas
“There's something in the lake.”
Setting another pallet of cans down on the ground, I turn and see that Katie is standing at the edge of the water and staring out across the water.
“What did you say?” I ask.
“There's something in the lake.”
I make my way over to join her. The sun rose about an hour ago, and while I began fetching supplies from the bunker before dawn, Melissa has been staying here to look after Katie. Looking down at the little girl's face, I can't shake the feeling that she's still suffering from everything she saw the other day. It's almost as if she's in shock.
“I don't think there's anything in the lake,” I tell her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She flinches and pulls away.
“Sorry,” I add, turning to look out at the gently rippling water. “There's nothing there.”
“Yes there is,” she replies. “I saw it.”
“What did you see?”
She pauses. “A hand.”
“You saw a hand?”
“Reaching up out of the water, just for a few seconds. It waved at me and then it went back down again.”