Asunder

by Tonnie Johnson

  "Can you call her?" George asked shifting in his chair.

  "I don’t have my phone."

  The older man tossed his cell. "You can use mine."

  "Thanks!" Varick disappeared to the back to make the call.

  Francine sat down next to Hazel. "You said he’s alive. Who are you talking about?"

  "A friend." She replied, disappointed when he the cameraman lost sight of him. "Does anyone else have a phone?"

  "Sorry." Francine said shaking her head. "Most of us have used up, left, or drop our phones. We've been bumming off of George."

  "He must be pretty darn important for someone to shove a camera in his face." George pointed at the TV screen.

  "He is."

  "He ain't important if he can't put an end to this shit." Malik ranted.

  "I doubt anyone could." Hazel replied. "If they did, it certainly wouldn't be soon. They would have to find treatment first as I’m quite sure they have tried all the usual vaccines only to find them useless. They would have also tried to use the same method that was used during the Spanish influenza pandemic. Which is use blood transfusions from flu survivors. However…"

  "There’s a 'However'" George said dismayed.

  "What could they do? I doubt the people infected to the point of killing everyone they encounter would be open for a cure. I doubt the people who weren’t infected by the chemical explosion would be eager to offer their blood, and even then, they would have had to have suffered from the virus, bacteria, or whatever this is, survive it, then offer their blood, and I doubt it would be enough to cure everyone…. if it works."

  "So, we’re fucked!" Malik sighed.

  "But wait... you two were sick, right? And you didn't turn! So that could help." Francine chuckled with relief.

  Hazel thought about it for a moment. "I guess so, if we were infected... that could be something. But where would we go? It's just chaos out there, I wouldn't be so eager to submit myself to the government."

  "Why not?" Francine asked heated.

  "Because I don't see how it would help the people out there tearing everyone apart. Maybe if a cure gets to those who are sick before they become those creatures out there but... how would they even get a cure to everyone? Who would venture outside for it? Should they go to every house in Detroit to make sure there aren't monsters inside but the sick? if anything preserving the infrastructure at all costs…"

  "My mother is alive." Varick reentered with a smile.

  "You got through?" George replied relieved.

  "She has my brother and they’re safe. I just have to get to them."

  "Good news."

  "I'm sorry but the battery is dead." Varick handed the phone to the older man.

  "Shit. Sorry." He said to Hazel.

  "It's okay." She nodded.

  Malik turned to Hazel, not caring one bit about 'that Nazi' and his family. "What were you saying?"

  "Oh... preserving the infrastructure should be top priority. To prevent social and economic disaster, maybe make the streets safe enough to help people and also maintain a symbolic stance of strength."

  "Why symbolic?" Malik's brow knitted in confusion.

  "There are only seven hundred thousand people living in Detroit. The rest of Michigan could be fine and no other city but Los Angeles has been attacked. I’m sure they’re evacuating civilians, at least enough to show that they are doing something. They wouldn’t want to appear to be monsters to the rest of the world. However, I think if they chose to let us rot inside of this city, no one would care."

  "Yeah, cause it's a predominantly black city." Malik huffed.

  "That's not the case. They wouldn't want another Katrina on their hands. It's just that they can't evac us and the rest of the world wouldn't want to see us come out. I'm sure they've seen what's happening in the city with these Jaggers, they've also seen zombie and other films dealing with infections."

  "Yeah but bites do nothing." Francine argued.

  "Try explaining that to some panicked asshole outside." George scoffed.

  "Exactly." Hazel finished. "They don't want some '28 Days Later' scenario come to life. The government could cover their rear ends by claiming we are all infected. They would gladly build a nice wall around us and forget if they could. And in the grand scheme of things it wouldn't be considered a great loss. According to the Pandemic statistics the government expects to lose less than 1% of the population. Leaving Detroit and L.A. to fester doesn't even come close to that. Personally, I would be the least bit surprised if they forwent a wall and just implement measures to deal with this problem more directly."

  "Directly. This is sounding too shady." Francine said not liking this information one bit.

  "Shadiness is in the eye of the beholder." Hazel replied.

  "So, there's no chance?" George hated his sense of curiosity but also liked to know what he was getting himself into... if she was correct.

  Hazel thought about her answer for a moment. "Each hospital practices preservation during a Pandemic. But in this case, that would be difficult if not nearly impossible. Stuffing the sick into one particular hospital is counterproductive to that hospital’s preservation. I believe that certain hospitals have had the slack taken off of them through their little ‘Bussing the sick' program." She said with air quotes. "They directed the flow of the sick to a hospital they could stand to lose if possible. I’m sure that every sick person who has set foot in there was staring down the barrel of a military issued rifle."

  A cup of tea spilled, crashing to the floor; Francine stood upset. "My sister went to U of M for treatment! The hospital… is… fine!"

  Hazel continued relentless in her apathy. "Of course, the hospital is fine. The military is there to put down every sick man, woman, and child who enters."

  "They can’t get away with that!" She raged. "That’s not true! Malik! Your son!"

  Malik fumed. "Is what you saying true? How the fuck do you know this?" He walked closer.

  Varick stood next to Hazel who remained seated. "How do you know this?"

  "That’s what I would do." Hazel noticed the enraged and shocked look on their faces and though it best to leave it alone.

  "But you’re saying it like that’s what’s really happening!" Francine shot back.

  "I have a vivid imagination." She waved her hand dismissively.

  "I took my son there because they told us to. The military was there that place is still standing right now! It’s a safe zone." Malik stressed.

  "I apologize, I shouldn’t have said anything." Hazel said turning her attention to the TV.

  They noticed the coldness of her manner and her words and did not like it. Not at all. The silence was long and awkward.

  "What else would you do?" Francine asked still angry.

  "I don’t…"

  "Just a question." She swallowed hard.

  "I would funnel the infected into a hospital and kill them before they could turn into those things." Hazel shrugged. "This is hardly a normal illness, patients aren't gonna lie in a bed and wait for treatment, they're likely to kill the doctors, nurses, or anyone dumb enough to go near them. They can't contain them and a cure would be too long to develop and may not be effective. I would prevent citizens from leaving the cities affected, and if they saw anything at the hospital, it would be grounds for elimination, that's what they did to my mother and my friend's parents, they must have seen something they shouldn't have and they killed them." She sighed bitterly. "I'll cancel all flights out of here and set up checkpoints into other cities to catch anyone who got by the barricades. I’m sure the other hospitals on the list…" Hazel paused. "I would appoint more than one hospital to funnel the traffic to. My desire would be to get them off the streets to prevent the deaths of the uninfected. I believe only a small number are actually infected, the only real issue here are the large number of uninfected citizens getting murdered in the streets. There is a possibility of thinning the number of infected with this method without reso
rting to more drastic measures."

  "Drastic measures?" Francine gulped.

  "Missile strikes on the more hostile zones could do the trick. There is a possibility that this method could squash the chunk of the problems and allow ground troops to handle the rest."

  "Are they gonna fucking nuke us?" George sat up alarmed.

  "I highly doubt it unless they are left with no other options, it should be an absolute last resort because they wouldn't want to be seen bombing their own citizens to death, it would be a total win for terrorists everywhere." Hazel explained to calm him down. "I’m sure that everyone who has ever been infected already has been and therefore killing them is all that's left to do. There would be no need for a bombing." Hazel stopped for a moment. "Although, the people who did this could do it again, the chaos would make it easy for them to operate in this city, perhaps spread to nearby cities and Canada? And if they plan to reintroduce the infection to those who were uninfected, then we're screwed. The U.S. would have to squash the issue as quickly as possible to not appear weak to our enemies, such as North Korea and the Middle East, and maybe Russia, who would take full advantage of us nuking our own citizens. Going the Nuke route should be the ultimate last resort, only done if re-infection occurs. This quieter approach is much better. Although another worst-case scenario would be a stronger strain mutating and infecting those of us who are not infected. The longer the infected linger, the more possible such a thing is."

  "How old are you?" Varick asked curious.

  "Eighteen."

  "For a moment, there I thought you might work for the government." George laughed feeling good that this was nothing more than the ramblings of a semi adult. "I'm sorry, about what happen to your mom."

  Malik grabbed his bag of weapons and slung it over his shoulders.

  "Where the hell are you going?!" George asked.

  "I’m going to that fucking hospital to get my son!"

  Francine stood grabbing her gun. "I’m going with you. My sister..."

  "This is just some little 'what if…' shit." George tried to reason with them.

  "Is this what they are doing?" Malik asked Hazel waiting for an answer.

  "Yes." Hazel turned away.

  "How do you know this?" Varick folded his arms.

  " Intelligence division, the career I want more than anything. Aiding and assisting some of the best agents in the world."

  Malik and Francine geared themselves up before unlocking the door. George and Marie called for them only to be ignored. The two locked the doors and watched them run off.

  "You’re gonna let them go off alone?" Varick looked at George.

  "I’m just trying to survive."

  "I hear you." Varick sat down.

  "I wish the world was normal again." Sarah cried.

  "The world wasn’t any better off. Maybe humans deserve to get wiped off the planet." Varick replied without a hint of hesitation.

  "Disgusting." Marie scoffed. "How can you travel with him?"

  "I agree with him." Hazel said simply. "I was an outcast in the former world and now all the people who told me I didn’t belong in their world are most likely dead in this one." Hazel rested her face in her palms wishing she had held back.

  Marie stood and walked off.

  "Her husband died. He was the one who coughed blood." George said low. "He turned into… some sort of monster, he was big and gnarly looking. He killed their kids and tried to kill her too. That’s when we found her and saved her. Big son of bitch couldn’t even be put down. Bullet to the head was useless, stabbing was pointless and you would have been a moron to try it. We had to run, hopefully lose him in the crowd, thank goodness we did but now we're stuck here, away from our group."

  George snatched the clothes off the rack laying them down for Sarah to rest. Hazel took stock of the possible exits. It was one of those old boutiques that had no place at a mall. The building had seen its share of wear from the madness and the only window that existed were the displays which were boarded. She had wondered if this group did it or the owner but there was point in dwelling on it.

  "Where’s this other group?" Varick asked.

  "We have an outer encampment south of here. We’re gonna find a mall to camp out in if we could but… after hearing all this and losing two of our best fighters just now… I don’t know."

  They rested on the floor each trying their best to gain some sort of comfort. George was now out of the chair and wrapped up on a pile of clothes. "Varick, what will you do once it dies down out there?"

  "My family is staying at a safe house. I’ll go there but… I don’t know if I can stay. Me and the brotherhood aren’t exactly getting along."

  "Listen, I know this may be too much to ask, but I got this little girl and Marie with me. I didn’t want to say this in front of them but I don’t think we’ll make it to camp without Malik and Francine." he hesitatingly implied the next phrase. "I saved you…"

  "So, I should return the favor by escorting you to your camp?" Varick replied. 'I knew he wanted something for saving me.'

  "Please."

  "What will you give me for doing this?"

  "But I!" He stammered. "We have some firepower and ammo for that revolver." He gave in.

  "Then you got yourself a hired hand." Varick looked at Hazel who watched him before turning and lying down.

  Varick leaned against the wall waiting for George and his smaller group to pack up. The sun shone annoyingly in his face but he never moved from the spot, mainly because he had a perfect view out the window and the now empty streets. George, Sarah, and Marie finished and were awaiting the go ahead. Hazel opened the door, and the group followed, traveling low and fast. Varick inspected the markings on the pavement, some were green circles and other red X's. "What does this mean?"

  "I’ve seen it before. It means these areas are safe." George replied, his heart racing.

  Gunshots and the roar of vehicles plowed in the distance.

  "It must be the military clearing another area." Hazel said keeping up pace.

  They continued forward spotting a lone Jagger which was dispatched by Hazel’s gun. They walked down the ramp leading toward the freeway and walked along the clear streets until they trekked up the hill toward a trampled fence.

  "We have other survivors with us." George smiled. "Just over this blockade here. You two are lucky you found us."

  In the Freeway underpass, the people carried an aura of sadness, losing life, home, and everything they knew. It was only twenty and when the new comers arrived, they whispered suspiciously to one another. Varick felt the heated gaze on him and covered his tattoos by rolling down his sleeves, but his action did not make matters better. George showed off their tin canned alarm system.

  "This is it." George stretched out his arms.

  A plump woman, named Sheri ran over giving George a huge hug and kissing him wildly. "You were gone for so long! I thought!"

  "I’m fine. Baby, these are some nice people I met, Hazel and Varick."

  "Nice to meet ya."

  George walked over to a lean rough looking man, no more than forty, with a long beard and a biker’s jacket draped on his shoulder. "Sampson, I need you to show these two the ammo and weapons we have."

  "What?! Why?" he replied agitated.

  "As payment for helping us get here."

  The man motioned for them to follow him deeper into the shade. The tents of the homeless scattered about and neither Hazel nor Varick could tell if the homeless remained or if they were abandoned property used by these survivors.

  "I’m watching you two. Take only what you need. One gun and some ammo." He pointed at them before stepping back.

  Hazel snatched two clips for the 9mm she carried and Varick grabbed a box of revolver ammo. He eyed a small hand gun; he wanted to reach for but thought the better of it.

  "I’m heading to my family. You’re free to tag along or do whatever you like but like I said before."

  "I know." Haz
el nodded. "I have no intention of staying here or going to your safe house. I'll look for Luc. He’s like a brother to me. When I find a decent path there, I’ll be like a ghost." She unsheathed her knife wiping the blood and debris from the blade fearful that it will dull and rust.

  Two men walk over itching for a fight. "What the fuck are you doing here with that shit on!" one pointed at Varick. They were not alone, several others of all races joined the men in their displeasure at seeing Varick enter camp.

  "I find it unseemly to have him here." Another said, his face reddening with anger.

  "It’s cool… well not cool, but he’s strong and..." George approached to defused the situation.

  "I’m not staying here." Varick stressed. "I did a job, now I'm getting paid, now I'm leaving."

  "I have my son here and you’re bringing some fucking Nazi up in here?" The man turned to George.

  Hazel calmly cleaned her weapon. Ignoring the exchange.

  "Fuck off. I have my payment so I’m leaving or do you want to act like a nigger right now?" Varick said without an ounce of hesitation. he enjoyed the look of rage, shock, and dismay on the faces of the men who came to form a small mob against him.

  The men closed the gap. Itching trigger fingers ready. Varick snatched a thick army knife off the table ready for a brawl.

  "You calling me a nigger?"

  "No." Varick smirked, taking the opportunity. "Technically, I didn’t call you a nigger I said you’re acting like one." He smacked his lips, smiled and gestured almost flamboyantly. "But I will call you a jigaboo." Varick stood his ground ready for anything, his pride too much to back down, even if it meant being put in a position of fighting alone.

  "What the hell did you say to him?" Another walked up ready to fight.

  " Jigaboo jigaboo jigaboo, is that clear enough nigger?" Varick mocked. "Okay, now I called you one."

  Parents reached for their children and the others who wanted no part in the confrontation backed off.

  "No one has your back here."

  " I got my own back."

  The men charged, and he put them down fast. A kick to the balls, a swipe of his blade slicing a hand, a grappling of the wrist and twisting it and holding him in place. The man screamed, the sheering pain pulsating. The flash of light of the gun shined close by and before firing it flew along with the hand attached high in the air. She fired a shot, and the man issued a piercing cry holding his bloody hand and the people ran further away from the scene.