by Amy Cross
Although I'm certain she's imagining things, I can't help but feel a faint shiver pass through my body as I look out at the tranquil scene. A cold wind is blowing against us as we stand in silence for a moment, and in my slightly fevered state – with constant pain throbbing in my shoulder – I almost expect to see the hand that Katie described, rising from the water. At the same time, I know it's impossible.
“She's nuts,” Joe's voice whispers. “So are you.”
“There's nothing there,” I say eventually.
“I saw it,” Katie replies.
“I think you might have made a mistake.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head while keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the water. “Wait with me. It'll appear again.”
Hearing a noise over by the small camp-site we've set up, I see that Melissa is opening one of the pallets. Making my way over, I take the hunting knife from my belt and hand it to her.
“It'll be easier with this,” I point out.
“Thanks,” she replies with a faint smile as she takes the knife.
“Katie thinks she can see something in the water.”
“Like what?”
“A hand.”
She stares at me, clearly concerned.
“I think she's struggling to come to terms with everything,” I continue. “There's no hand, but she still thinks she can see it. I guess...” Pausing, I try to find the right words. “I don't know, maybe it's post-traumatic shock or something like that.”
“So what should I do?” Melissa asks. “Take her to a therapist?”
“I don't know,” I reply. “I guess she's going to need to talk about it at some point.”
She nods, but I can see that she's also struggling. I think I've somehow learned to block these things from my mind, but I'm not sure whether that's a good thing in the long-term.
“Do you think she hears voices?” Joe whispers to me. “Face it, Tommy, I'm the very last thing that's keeping your mind from snapping. I'm the string that's holding you together.”
“We need a miracle,” Melissa says finally.
“It's not about miracles,” I tell her. “It's about hard work.”
“No, we need a miracle. Just something to let us know that God's still watching over us, just one thing to prove that he hasn't given up on the world.”
“You believe in that stuff, huh?”
“I did. Before.” She pauses, looking over at Katie for a moment. “I know this might make me sound like a bad person, but I need a sign. God used to give people signs, there are stories in the Bible about him giving signs all over the place, so why can't he give a few now? It can be something small, but I need to know that things are getting better.”
“They are,” I tell her. “We're already getting this place sorted out, and the supplies from the bunker should last two people for at least half a year.”
“Three people,” she replies quickly, “unless you're really thinking of taking off?”
“No,” I reply, even though she's right. “I mean, I might go away for a few weeks at a time but...” My voice trails off as I feel a brief, sharp stabbing pain in my shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
“If you stay,” Joe whispers to me, “you'll get sicker and sicker and eventually you'll infect them. Either that or you'll full-on turn into one of those creatures and attack.”
“So then what are we supposed to do?” she asks. “Just spend the rest of our lives sitting around by a lake? There has to be more to the world than just trying to survive.”
“There is,” I tell her.
“Like what?”
“I don't know. Right now, surviving feels like a victory, but there'll be time later for -”
“There!” Katie shouts suddenly.
Turning, I see that she's pointing out at the lake, but there's nothing to see.
“It was right there,” she continues, not even turning to look at us. “Didn't you see the hand? It was waving at us!”
Looking back down at Melissa, I can see the fear in her eyes.
“She'll be okay,” she whispers finally, using the knife to start cutting the pallet open. “She will. We'll all be okay.”
“Not with you around,” Joe continues. “Face it, Tommy. The more you're around people, the more they're at risk. Don't you think it's time you put their needs ahead of your own selfishness?”
“Yeah,” I whisper.
“Huh?” Melissa replies, glancing back at me. “Did you say something?”
I shake my head, but as she gets back to work I can't shake the feeling that Joe's right. The pain in my shoulder is getting worse, and it's clearly only a matter of time before I become a serious danger to anyone around me.
Elizabeth
“So what happened?” I ask as soon as Charles unlocks the door and pushes it open. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything's fine,” he replies, with clear relief in his voice. “The final two intruders were found about an hour ago. They hadn't breached the main part of the city at all, they hadn't even come close. We think they -”
“Thank fuck for that,” Natalie mutters, shoulder-barging him out of the way and stomping up the stairs.
“She's nice,” I say quietly.
“Sorry I had to leave you in here with her,” he replies with a faint smile. “I know she can be... difficult.”
“I guess she's been through a lot.”
“Bet you a day's rations she's been like that all her life,” he continues, switching off the lights in the basement as he leads me back up the stairs. “Most people here in the city are pretty cool, but Natalie's got something of a reputation already. Everyone hates having to deal with her. Her father's pushing her to get some experience as a soldier, which seems pretty ambitious. I don't mind telling you, we were pretty worried when we heard you were coming, because we figured you might be just like her. Thank God it didn't work out like that.”
“So what happened during the night?” I ask as we reach the foyer of the building. “I thought I heard a helicopter and -”
“The situation was resolved,” he replies, cutting me off. “Six people infiltrated the outer defenses, and six people were removed before they could get close to the center of the city.”
“So they were killed?”
“When we're dealing with people who might be infected, we can't take any chances. There are plenty of signs up around the outer perimeter, warning these idiots what'll happen if they try to break through. It's not like they've suddenly lost the ability to read.” Leading me over to the main stairwell, he sighs. “The worst part is, they won't stop. It'll happen again in a few weeks, and again, and so on until we get the new fence up.”
“What new fence?” I ask.
“Didn't your father tell you? We're working on an electric fence to run all the way around the perimeter. Resources are a little tight at the moment, but we should have it in place by the end of next month. The power'll be strong enough to fry anyone who gets too close.”
“That's horrible,” I point out.
“It's necessary.” Checking his watch, he turns to me. “I was like you at first, I hated the way we had to change things, but over time I came to understand that there's no alternative. We have to protect the city at all costs. Even the slightest mistake could ruin everything, and then we'd be living in chaos again. Do you really want to go back to the way things were in the first weeks after the catastrophe?”
I open my mouth to reply, but at the last moment something holds me back.
“You're starting to get it, aren't you?” he asks.
“Get what?”
“The way of thinking we have to adopt around here.”
“I...” Pausing, I tell myself that he's wrong, but at the back of my mind I'm starting to wonder whether I might be starting to understand.
“Don't worry,” he adds, patting me on the shoulder as he turns to walk away. “Soon you'll forget all about the people outside the city. You'll realize that nothing
matters anymore except the world we're creating here.”
***
“This is an outrage! What the hell were those guards thinking?”
Hearing my father shouting in one of the nearby rooms, I make my way along the corridor until I reach a door with an armed man standing outside. I stop, a little shocked by the rifle he's holding, and although I want to ask if I can go through, I get the feeling that I don't have much of a chance.
“They did their best,” says another voice from inside the room. “John, they're not robots, they make mistakes -”
“Mistakes that could ruin everything,” my father continues, followed by footsteps coming toward the door. “I want this situation resolved by tonight.”
“The sixth intruder ran for his life,” another voice replies. “He saw what happened to his five friends and he realized he had to get the hell out of here. It's the first smart decision any of those idiots have made in a long time. Let's hope he goes back to the others and warns them to keep out from now on. Seriously, this might turn out to be a good thing. Once word gets out that we don't tolerate intruders, maybe they'll leave and go find some other place to die.”
“What are they arguing about?” I ask the armed guard.
I wait for a reply, but he simply stares at me impassively.
“How did he get out?” my father asks. “If the guards were back in place, how did this sixth man manage to leave the city unnoticed?”
“The same way he got in -”
“So what does that mean? That there's a goddamn tunnel somewhere?”
Suddenly the door opens and my father storms out, although he stops suddenly as soon as he sees me.
“Lizzie,” he says, clearly shocked, “what are you doing here?”
“I came to find you,” I reply. “You told me to come up here, remember? When we were talking yesterday?”
“Of course,” he says, turning back to look into the room for a moment. “I'm sorry, it's just...”
“Is that your daughter?” asks one of the voices from inside the room. “John, you must introduce us to her. It's high time we got to know the young lady.”
“Lizzie, come this way,” my father says, with a hint of irritation in his voice. “The other members of the council want to meet you.”
Limping through the door, I'm surprised to find myself in a fairly small room with four people – two men and two women - sitting at a pair of desks. They immediately get to their feet as I enter, but although they seem friendly enough, I feel distinctly as if I'm on display. In fact, this whole situation feels surreal; it's less like the meeting room of a ruling council, and more like the office of a small-town insurance company.
“Lizzie,” my father says somewhat stiffly, “you've already met Oliver Hardy. I'd like to introduce you to the other members of the council. Doctor Chuck Gordon is an old colleague of mine, we've known each other for a number of years.”
“Nice to finally meet you,” says the bearded man at the furthest desk. “I've heard so much about you.”
“We also have Diane Clark,” my father continues, indicating the blonde woman who's already approaching with an outstretched hand, “and Doctor Beth Grennardy, who's in charge of our energy resource programs.”
“Welcome to Boston,” Diane says, shaking my hand. “I'm sorry about the events of the past twenty-four hours, but I'm afraid such things are always going to be possible until we get the electric shield running. You mustn't worry, though. We're constantly improving the performance of our soldiers, and we learn from every incident. I'm absolutely confident that there'll be no repeat.”
“Is someone still on the loose?” I ask, turning to my father. “I thought Charles said that they were all -”
“No-one's on the loose,” Diane continues quickly, interrupting me before turning to the others. “You see? This is how rumors spread. We have to make sure that people don't panic.”
“We have to make sure that no-one is able to break through the barriers in the first place,” my father points out. “I know mistakes are inevitable, but there have been too many lately. I want to be put in charge of reviewing all the security systems and -”
“That's my job,” Diane tells him.
“Then why do these incidents keep happening? Our soldiers -”
“Aren't soldiers,” she says firmly, betraying a hint of exasperation. “Or they weren't, not before all of this started. They were doctors, lawyers, store workers...” She turns to me. “Suddenly we thrust guns into their hands and told them to start guarding the city. They all mean well and they're trying to keep intruders out, but they still don't have the military mindset. It's very difficult to turn ordinary people into soldiers.”
“I guess,” I reply cautiously.
“We need more soldiers,” my father says suddenly. “Twenty isn't enough.”
“And take people away from other jobs?” Diane asks. “We have to manage the situation carefully, and I'm absolutely certain that the sixth person who infiltrated the outer barrier last night is long gone by now. In fact, I'd stake my role on the council on that certainty.”
“Can I get that in writing?” my father asks.
“Let's not turn this into a divisive issue,” says Oliver, clearly trying to act as a peace-maker. “Diane's probably right that the problem has been resolved for now, and John, you have a point about improving the performance of our military team. Let's all try to remember that we're only a few weeks into the first phase of this project, and we all have a lot to learn. Turning on one another won't help. We need to be supportive and constructive.”
“I'll see what changes we can make,” Diane says, reaching a hand out to my father as if she's hoping to offer him an olive branch. “You're right, John. There have been too many mistakes and something has to change.”
I wait for my father to shake her hand, but he seems too angry to acknowledge what she just told him.
“Dad,” I say finally, “she's right. You need to work together.”
He shakes her hand, but I can tell he's reluctant. “Words are empty,” he mutters. “It's actions that count, especially when lives are at stake.”
“But she's right,” I continue. “If these people aren't actual soldiers, it's impossible to think they can become perfect over night. Maybe you need to think about getting more people into the city, because right now it seems like there aren't enough.”
“There are enough if everyone does their job properly,” he says darkly.
“Maybe you've got unreasonable expectations,” I point out.
He turns to me, and I can see that he's angry.
“I just mean that they're human,” I continue, “that's all. They're people like you and like me, and instead of expecting them to be perfect, you should think about supporting them so they can do better.”
“I don't have time to stand around talking,” he replies, heading to the door. “I have actual work to do. Lizzie, we'll have dinner in my apartment tonight at six. We'll talk more then.”
I open my mouth to ask him to stay, but he's already out of the room and I can tell that he's annoyed. I guess he wanted me to stick up for him a little more, to say that he's right about everything, but I can't do that.
“You've very diplomatic,” Diane says after a moment. “We could use you in the council from time to time. Tell me something, has John always been this tense, or has the situation changed him?”
“It's changed him,” I reply, turning to her. “Actually, it's changed him more than I ever thought someone could change. He's barely the same person anymore.”
“Fear,” Oliver says after a moment. “It affects us all in different ways. John Marter is fixated on the idea of the barbarians at the gate, and the thought of them storming through one night and killing us all while we sleep.”
“And grief,” Diane adds. “We all lost people. The problem for John is that he's still got you, Elizabeth, and he's desperate to protect you.” She turns to one of the other men. “And you, C
huck... You've got Natalie. It must affect you in the same way.”
“But the people who broke through the barrier last night,” I continue, “they're all gone, aren't they?”
“Almost certainly,” Diane replies, turning to me.
“Don't you know for certain?”
“We have five bodies,” she continues, “but I'm certain the sixth man simply went back where he came from. Most likely he's telling the other people outside the city that it's too dangerous to break in again and with any luck, they'll finally start to disperse. This incident might actually turn out to be a blessing in disguise. No-one likes having to constantly hunt them down, so I hope they just give up and move on. That'd be best for everyone, don't you think?”
“Sure,” I reply, even though I can't shake a sense of unease. The truth is, I'm not convinced that sealing the city off is the best idea, and I can't quite believe that my father is one of the key architects of this strange new world.
Thomas
By the time I get back to the old camp-site for the fourth time today, I'm starting to feel as if I might collapse at any moment.
Exhausted and still dogged by pain in my shoulder, I stumble through the debris left behind after those helicopters opened fire a few days ago. Dead bodies are still scattered everywhere, and although I know I should try to bury them and provide them with at least a little dignity, I know that the task is way too big. All I can manage right now is to get to the bunker and fetch more supplies for Melissa and Katie. If they -
Hearing a noise nearby, I stop suddenly. I turn and look at a group of bodies, and for a moment I'm worried that one of them might somehow still be alive. After a few seconds, however, I spot movement next to one of the corpses and then I see a rat scurrying away, carrying something in its mouth. Feeling sick to my stomach, I notice another rat a little closer, with what appears to be a human finger between its teeth.
They're eating the victims.
“Get out of here!” I shout, stumbling toward the rats and waving my arms in the air.
Immediately, twenty or thirty more rats race from the scene, heading down toward the water's edge. Most of them have already torn off enough flesh for now, however, and I watch with disgust as they start to feast. There's a part of me that wants to chase them into the water and drown every last one of them, but I know I can't waste any more energy. Turning, I start stumbling back toward the ridge that leads toward the bunker. Barely even able to think straight, I try to just focus on getting the job done.