Survivors of the Sun

by Kingslie, Mia

  Georgia made to follow the others, and nearly fell, when suddenly, horrifyingly, something grasped her ankle. She shrieked, and very nearly peed her pants. Looking down to see what it was, she nearly screamed again.

  Light spilling in through the doorway, fell upon a skeletal like arm, the emaciated fingers grasping at the hem of her jeans. The skin, which hung loosely, had a sickly blue tinge. For a split horrifying second she thought it was only an arm, dismembered, but still moving. But as her eyes followed the short sleeve and the fabric of the shirt, and continued on into the shadows, she could make out a human form. Stretched out upon the floor and naked from the waist down. The buttocks were hollowed, pathetically thin, as though the body had collapsed upon itself.

  A jagged flash of lightening lit up the sky, and in the instance that it illuminated the inside of the shed, she saw that the buttocks and legs were crawling with flies and caked in a crusted whitish substance. She watched in revulsion, barely able to believe what she was seeing, as the thing (for in her mind it could not be human), voided its bowels, ejecting a thin stream of pale liquid, that pooled between its legs and slowly trickled across the floor.

  It emitted a low moan and the stench redoubled. She staggered backwards onto the porch holding her mouth.

  ‘Help me,’ the thing croaked, barely above a whisper.

  Her skin crawled in horror. How could it even be alive? What had done this? Mushrooms? Malnutrition? Bad water?

  Behind her Lola was muttering, ‘Oh my God. Oh my God,’ over and over like some sort of mantra. It got in her head, along with the images before her. Could it be, that this was contagious?

  She whirled around to the others. ‘Get out of here,’ she yelled, ‘it could be contagious and for God’s sake nobody put their fingers anywhere near their mouth.’ She was shrieking this last bit of advice. ‘Not if you want to end like that.’

  For a moment they froze in place, somewhat dazed and unsure of what was happening, then they were stumbling down the stairs, away from the shed.

  She made to follow them.

  ‘Help me,’ the stinking heap that had been a human, croaked. She turned and stared at him, unable to flee. Wanting to run into the rain, and at the same time, wanting to stay and help. Wanting to know what exactly this was, but mostly wanting to run, run far away.

  He had one arm outstretched, his face half turned towards her. His eyes were sunken, glassy, looking dead already, seeing her, yet already staring into the afterlife.

  And as she watched him, unable to speak, unable to give this man any words of comfort, she suddenly remembered the pile of rags in the corner, and as the image flashed in her mind, she saw them for what they were, not rags, but bodies. And she felt a scream rising within her once more. Somehow, with a strength she did not know she had, she managed to quell her rising hysteria.

  Oh God, I can’t help him, he is beyond help, but I can’t just walk away without doing anything.

  She uncapped her water bottle, and placed it next to him, leaving it near his hand, all the while, being careful not to touch him.

  He awkwardly grasped the bottle, his fingers like the claws of some prehistoric creature, and drew it towards his lips, sipping greedily, most of it spilling past his mouth. Then he let go of the bottle, and it tottered over, and lay, rocking slightly beside him, water slowly gurgling out onto the floor. He did not seem to notice.

  He tilted his rheumy eyes up at her then, and she saw gratitude in them, and she felt shame as she had never felt before.

  It’s…, a…, plague…,’ he rasped, gasping between each word, as she turned yet again to flee.

  At his words, ice ran through her veins, fear froze her in place, her hand on the railing of the steps.

  ‘Plague,’ she whispered, struggling to even say the word.

  ‘In Warsaw, they are killing the sick, so many are ill.’ His words came out slowly, with great difficulty. He was struggling to breathe.

  She stepped a little closer, desperate to understand. ‘When were you there,’ she asked, her voice tight with terror.

  ‘We got…, away…, yesterday.’

  Yesterday? That was not possible, no one could get this sick in twenty four hours, not like this. He had to be delirious.

  ‘Do you know what kind of plague?’ she asked.

  But he did not answer her. In the silence that followed, his glazed eyes seemed to stare right through her, and it took her a moment to realize that he wasn’t going to answer her. He couldn’t answer her, not her or anyone else, ever again.

  She lurched down the stairs, bile rising in her throat, then she was bent over double, spewing into the grass. As she wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her t-shirt, she hurried over to where Lola and the others were waiting.

  ‘What in tarnation happened back there,’ Lola asked as she reached her. Georgia stared at Lola, trying to make sense of her thoughts, to put it all into words.

  ‘The man back there,’ she began.

  ‘Yeah, we saw him, looked like he was starving.’

  ‘No, not starving, he had some kind of disease. Like nothing I have ever seen.’ Her words were running into each other. ‘A plague he called it. He said, they were killing the sick in Warsaw. That many had already died from it, that they got away yesterday.’

  ‘They? They who?’ Lola demanded, her voice rising.

  ‘He wasn’t alone, there were bodies in the corner of the room.’ Georgia said, her voice a little calmer now.

  ‘No, I meant who’s killing the sick?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe that committee Harold was talking about.

  Aghast, Lola stepped back from her. ‘That’s terrible, it’s inhumane, it’s…,’

  Georgia cut her off. ‘No, what is terrible, is that we have just come into contact with a disease that is so virulent that it kills in 24 hours. Yesterday, that man back there,’ Georgia pointed back to the shed as she spoke, ‘he escaped from Warsaw, yesterday he was still capable of walking. Now he is dead, as are all his companions. What is worse, is that we don’t even know what it is, or how it is spread.’

  Over Lola’s shoulder, Georgia could see the three children and Ruby, standing drenched by the rain. Their faces white from the shock of her words. Even the implacable Ruby looked shaken.

  ‘So what are we going to do?’ Lola asked.

  ‘If it’s airborne, there is not a lot we can do, but if it is spread through contact, then we have really only one choice, and that is to decontaminate ourselves.’

  ‘How?’ Lola’s voice was little more than a whisper now.

  ‘We need to wash,’ Georgia said, thinking aloud, as she tried to come up with a plan. ‘We need to disinfect ourselves, boil our clothing…, Actually, I think we have no choice but to go back to the resort. A resort that size, must have cleaning supplies, disinfectants or something. If not, well then we will have to work out something else, and at least we will have shelter.’

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Having persuaded Badger and Millie to come out from under the shed, and into the rain, they headed back onto the road and began the long walk back to River View Resort. Less than ten minutes later, the rain stopped, the cloud cover dissipated and the sun returned to beat down on them as before. Steam rose from the bitumen, rivulets of water cut across the road and the straps of their sodden backpacks chafed painfully with every step. The humidity in the surrounding air, made everything feel clammy and even more unbearable.

  ‘Unbelievable!’ Georgia muttered to herself. It really was as if the devil himself was tormenting them, slowing down their progress every step of the way. The irony of it, was not lost on Georgia. If the heavens had not chosen that precise moment to open up, they would now be over half way to Warsaw. Instead, they were heading back the way they had come.

  Less than an hour ago, everything had been going so smoothly, and yet, somehow in that short space of time, fate or whatever one liked to call it, had so conspired against them, that they were now potential
ly looking at a death sentence.

  As they walked in silence, all of them locked into their own personal angst, Georgia’s mind was spinning, her thoughts splintering in different directions, her mood evolving. At first she had been overcome with the horror and total revulsion of what she had seen, followed by fear for the consequences of their encounter. The thought that they could end up like those poor souls in the shed, that the children could die like that, was terrifying.

  When her thoughts had begun to spiral into the unthinkable, she had bargained with God. She would stop swearing, go to church regularly again (if any active churches were left), and….

  She hadn’t been able to think of anything else. She could hardly promise to fight world hunger, or promote peace, when they didn’t have enough to feed themselves, and these days promoting peace was probably the quickest way to get killed.

  It was so unfair. She fumed, as she kicked at a stone on the road, sending it skittering into the ditch. What had they ever done to deserve this? None of this was their fault and all they had been doing was try to survive.

  She looked at her family, the family this new world had given her; Deedee, Jamie and Rebecca, her children, walking ahead, the tight set of their shoulders, as they leaned forward, laden down with their worldly possessions. Steam slowly rising from their packs, as Badger and Millie, mud-spattered, trotted alongside. Lola, her sister in survival, with her soaking wet hair pulled back behind her ears and her lips silently moving, was she praying? And Ruby, her mother, aunty and grandmother all rolled into one, clutching her handbag tightly, her mouth resolute, as her arthritic legs did their best to keep pace. And Ant, the only one in the group that had not been soaked by the rain, snuggly curled up, asleep and unaware in her pink domain. ‘None of them deserve this,’ she thought.

  She was going to fight against it, they had survived so far, despite the odds, and despite those statistics which would forever be etched in her brain. They had come this far, and she sure as hell was not going to let the devil or fate or whatever the hell it was, beat them. She was, one way or another, going to get them all through this, and the way to do that was to ensure that none of them contracted this God awful disease. She just had to work out how to do that.

  She vaguely remembered the SARS outbreak in 2003, there had been a doctor, in Singapore? Or was it Hong Kong? She couldn’t remember, but he had gone into the clinic, to care for those poor unfortunates who had contracted that virulently contagious disease, and no one had expected him to ever come out again. But he had survived, and she clearly recalled the interview, where the doctor had explained that frequent handwashing had been a very great factor in hindering the spread of the disease.

  Of course that had been an influenza outbreak. This, she was fairly certain, could not be influenza, nor was it some form of insect born disease. She couldn’t think of a single one that killed so quickly. She mentally listed what she did know about this illness. It was very contagious, it was fast acting, and it was rife in a populated area that was open to trade. So it was possibly brought in by someone passing through, and now spreading as a result of unhygienic conditions. Warsaw, with no running water and such a large population, had to be pretty bad.

  Similar, she imagined, to pre Victorian times in London, where chamber pots were emptied out of windows, the raw sewerage running in the streets, until the Muck Rakers cleaned it away. If she was remembering her history lessons correctly, that had been a time of Cholera and Typhoid and Small Pox epidemics. Could it be…?’

  Georgia’s thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Deedee reaching for her water bottle. She lurched ahead, knocking the bottle from her hands before she could bring it to her lips.

  Deedee gave a startled cry. ‘I was going to drink that.’

  ‘I’m sorry Deedee, we can’t take the risk of cross contamination.’

  Deedee stared at her, uncomprehending. ‘Huh?’

  ‘There could be germs on the bottle from that place, something could have splashed onto it. We will just have to hold off for a bit.’ As she spoke she suddenly remembered back to that very dark night, when they had first set off on this journey, when Deedee had stamped her foot and demanded a drink.’

  Deedee stared at her wide eyed. ‘Yeah, bad idea,’ she said, as she bent to pick the bottle up and slipped it back in place.

  ‘So what do you think it is?’ Lola asked.

  Georgia pursed her lips. ‘I might be wrong, but I think, that what that man called plague, could possibly be either Cholera, or Typhoid or something similar. Both diseases are spread through contact with fecal matter, either directly or through contaminated water.’

  ‘What’s fecal matter?’ Deedee asked.

  ‘It’s poop,’ Jamie said.

  ‘Ew, gross,’ Deedee said. ‘So we might have poop on us?’

  ‘Pretty much, I imagine at the very least, we all have it on our shoes, most of us walked in it.’

  ‘Ruby and I don’t, we stayed outside,’ Rebecca said.

  ‘Yes, but then we walked all across the verandah, and down the steps, so I think that…’

  Deedee interrupted her, ‘so the dogs have it on their paws too, will they get sick as well?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said truthfully, ‘but I think the wisest course of action would be to assume we have all come into contact.’

  ‘Oh dear me,’ Ruby said, ‘my mother-in-law caught cholera while she was travelling through India.’

  Georgia glanced over at her, suddenly full of questions. ‘She did? What did you do?’ Perhaps Ruby knew how to deal with this?

  Ruby nodded. ‘Goodness, yes, the physician who attended her said that she most likely caught it from eating Gola. Cordelia was very partial to the syrupy shaved ice, I personally couldn’t abide it, but it did get quite hot over there. Rather like here…,’

  Lola cut her off, irritation in her voice, ‘So what did you do?’

  Ruby looked surprised. ‘Do? We buried her off course. It is far too hot too….’

  ‘Did not see that coming,’ thought Georgia, as she exchanged a startled look with Lola.

  ‘She died?’ Rebecca asked, her voice rising with each word, ‘even with a doctor?’

  ‘Oh dear, now I have upset you all,’ Ruby said. ‘But there really is no need to feel miserable, she was a horrid woman. Of course my Bertie was upset, but I never really could….’

  Georgia held up her hand, stopping the flow of words. ‘Sorry, Ruby, not meaning to be rude or anything, but we need to stay on topic.’

  ‘Of course dear, I totally understand.’

  Georgia nodded her thanks. ‘So, basically, if I am right, then we need to do everything in our power to sanitize ourselves.’ And hopefully, it is not too late! ‘Ideally we should strip off our clothes, burn everything and wash…,’

  There was a collective gasp from the others. ‘That’s out of the question, what would we wear?’ Lola asked.

  ‘Wait, be patient,’ Georgia said, ‘as I said, ideally that is what we should do, but, you’re right Lola, it is out of the question to burn our clothing. I am hoping that luck is on our side and we will find some disinfectant at the resort. We can soak our clothing in that. But before we do that, we will need to go down to the river, strip down and wash ourselves thoroughly, all over with soap. At least three times. That should do it.’

  Georgia prayed she was right, but she figured that if it was good enough for hospital staff to do, then hopefully it would be good enough for them.

  Back at the resort, they stood underneath the welcome sign, as Georgia and Lola, considered their next move, debating whether or not to keep their shoes on. They agreed that it would be unwise to wear their shoes, and possibly track the virus or whatever it was though the grounds, but Georgia did not agree that they simply carry them. Touching something that was definitely contaminated, and with their bare hands, seemed extremely risky. What they needed was plastic bags or something to carry their shoes in.

  I saw a ro
ll of trash bags under the counter at reception,’ Jamie said. ‘Would they do?’

  Rebecca was sent to find them. She and Ruby were the least likely to have come in contact with anything, and so it made the most sense. She kicked off her shoes as instructed, and ran off. She come back a few minutes later, triumphantly clutching the roll in one hand and limping slightly. ‘Stubbed my toe,’ she said, seeing Georgia’s questioning look.

  Georgia peeled off a trash bag, and flicked it open. ‘Not bleeding is it?’ she asked, wondering if that could be a problem.

  ‘Nah not even a graze, my socks helped, just hurts that’s all.’

  Once the shoes had been bagged up, they walked down to the river. There, they unloaded their gear, stacking it all up in a heap to be dealt with later. Ant, realizing her bag had been put down, peered over the top, yawned and went back to sleep.

  Amazingly it all went smoothly. She had been a bit worried about the children kicking up a fuss about stripping down in front of each other, but clearly, the seriousness of the situation had well and truly hit home with everyone, and modesty was completely forgotten about.

  She left everyone undressing and stopping by reception for the keys she headed to the nearest rooms. Within no time at all it seemed, she had returned with bathrobes for everyone, more soap, and a pile of towels, all carefully stuffed into trash bags.

  While the kids splashed about in the shallows, she and Lola, thoroughly washed themselves, rubbing their hair with the soap bars and scrubbing each other’s backs. Next they washed Ruby, who reacted to this communal bathing as though it were something she did every day. Then still naked, they soaped down each of the children in turn, ignoring their protestations that they were old enough to wash themselves.

  ‘Okay, so then once we are all completely clean,’ Georgia said, as she rubbed soap into Jamie’s hair, ‘then we take the clothes into the kitchen and if there is still gas, we just boil the clothes, shoes as well. If there isn’t any gas, then we will just have to do it the normal way.’

  Lola nodded her head slowly. ‘Sounds good, oh crap, I dropped the soap.’ She knelt down, feeling round her feet. ‘Got it, so what do you reckon about the rest of the gear, the packs and stuff.’