Lazarus: Enter the Deadspace

by Daniel Willcocks

  The three nodded, laughing menacingly.

  “Take her away.”

  When they started moving again, she started screaming. Black veins throbbing. Wriggling and crying and thrashing. Just before she disappeared into the back of a police transit van, she heard the woman spit at one of the officers, eliciting a ‘Jesus Christ!’ from Higgins.

  Sabrina smiled as she turned to see several hundred eyes trained on her. People standing by their cars, sitting in the cars, sitting on roofs, all waiting for their turn to cross.

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” she shouted with a sly grin. “It’s greatly appreciated and makes me proud to be made of red, white, and yada yada yada… let’s keep this moving, folks. Who the hell is next?”

  15

  Lucas pulled into Mayweather Street late that morning. It was a sunny day in paradise. The idyllic suburban street stretched as far as the eye could see under canopies of maple trees that lined the pavement and arched over the roads. There were white picket fences, neatly pruned shrubs, and leaves blowing in a gentle summer breeze.

  Lucas remembered the last time he had visited their house. A good decade ago. Has it really been that long? It seemed almost impossible. Back then, kids had ridden along the road on brightly coloured bikes, dog walkers engaged in deep chatter, and cars had lined the pavements, half-cocked on the sidewalk.

  A stark contrast to what Lucas saw now.

  The road was all but empty. A couple of cars had concertinaed into trees. Fences were strewn across the tarmac in splinters where the owners of the properties had clearly had to make a quick getaway. He drove past several houses with the curtains drawn. It seemed almost surreal to see the street like this. So… abandoned.

  At least the mist had gone now. That was nice. When Lucas had awoken, he had been surprised to see the air was clear. He had blinked away the sleep, bottle still in hand, and shielded his face from the sun rays beaming through Donny’s windscreen. For half a second he had thought that it might all have been a dream. Until he stepped out the car, saw the body of the reception clerk, and it all came flooding back.

  He passed a house with what looked to be a body stuck halfway out the window. Blood trailing down the brickwork in thick lines.

  God, I hope they’re safe.

  He parked up outside No. 15 and waited a moment. He took a few deep, calming breaths, his excitement of seeing her mingled with the genuine possibility that he might find them both dead.

  Or worse.

  Lucas knocked on the door four times, the sound like a gunshot in a library. Through the decorative glass pattern on the door, he could see the light pouring in through a window at the back of the house, and the blurry outline of stairs. A moment later, the shape of someone cautiously poking their head around the door to the kitchen.

  “Who is it?” the woman called, her voice shaking.

  “Urgent delivery for Mrs Mullins.” Lucas felt the butterflies, mixed with that familiar feeling of guilt. He shouldn’t be this excited to see Maddie, especially given the circumstances. But old habits die hard.

  Maddie ran to the door, then. She played with a couple locks, pulled it open wide and jumped at Lucas. Her smile beamed and he lost her face as she wrapped herself around him, hugging him so tightly he could feel her pulse. “Oh, it’s so good to see you, Luke.”

  “Long time.”

  “Too long.”

  She hopped down, and ushered him inside, sparing a glance up and down the street.

  The house was exactly how Lucas remembered it. Homely yet unrefined with a touch of boho. They made their way to the kitchen and Lucas leaned against the worktop as Maddie busied herself with the kettle and some china cups. “Coffee? No sugar, dash of milk?”

  Lucas nodded, warmed by the fact she remembered.

  She handed Lucas his cup and they made their way into the living room. The place was tidy, but there was a staleness to the air. Lucas observed a small ashtray on the coffee table that was overflowing with ash and cigarette ends. The bookshelves and TV looked as though they were in need of a good dusting and there was a collection of tissues in a bin in the corner.

  Maddie placed her drink down and Lucas got a good look at her for the first time. She was still as beautiful as he remembered. With her sandy blonde hair and keen green eyes. But, for the first time since he’d known her, she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember the last time she’d smoked.

  “Picking up bad habits?” Lucas asked.

  Maddie giggled awkwardly. “Ten years since you darkened my doorstep, and that’s how you say hi?”

  Lucas smiled, “How’s life, Maddie?”

  “Oh, you know. Same day different shit, mostly. Living the life of leisure that so many women desperately crave. I get my Women’s Weekly through the doorstep each week, my car taxed and paid for, and a bottle of wine every Friday night – if I’m a good girl. Oh, and just in case you hadn’t noticed, yesterday a yellow fog came and turned half the neighbourhood into savages.”

  “Ah, so you noticed that, too?” Lucas quipped.

  Maddie relaxed back in her chair and pulled a smoke off the shelf beside her. She cupped her hands and lit it, taking a deep puff in and blowing it into the air. “C’mon Lucas, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you’re here.” She held the cigarette out. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Think it’s a bit late for that.”

  “Hmm.” Another drag. “So you want to catch me up, or are we going to sit here and pretend that we’re just a couple of old friends having a natter? I’m good either way, I just want to know what to expect.”

  Lucas went to open his mouth, then realised that, in the rush of seeing Maddie again, he had forgotten someone.

  “Where’s Fred?”

  Something changed in Maddie’s face. Where, before, she was all smiles and cheek, the mention of her husband seemed to erase the emotion. She looked down at her hands and played with her fingers. “He’s not home.”

  “Will he be back soon? This kinda concerns him too,” Lucas asked, leaning a hand across and putting it on her knee.

  A tear fell into Maddie’s lap. “Sure. He got up in the middle of the night for a glass of water about a month ago and I’ve not seen him since. So, he should be back any minute now.” She began to sob into her hands.

  Lucas was caught off guard. He knelt before the weeping Maddie, trying his best to comfort her whilst the cogs in his mind whirred away. Fred had been gone for a month? But where to? As much as he hated to admit it, Fred and Maddie were the very definition of a ‘perfect’ couple. From the moment they became close at the Reviver’s meetings all those years ago, they had been inseparable. It used to be something that Lucas and his ex-best bud, Ira, would taunt Fred mercilessly for. “It won’t be too long before ‘Fraddie’ will be pissing from the same organ”, Lucas had once remarked to the belly-clutching laughter of Ira King.

  It also made it a hell of a lot harder for Lucas to be around Fred, with Maddie always teasing his attention nearby.

  Maddie wiped her eyes and told Lucas what she knew. That one night Fred had awoken with a start, dripping in sweat, breathing heavily. She rolled over and saw the dim light from the hallway outlining his naked torso, and placed a hand on his leg. She asked him if he was okay. He told her he was, that he just needed to get something to calm himself down again. “It’s just a nightmare. I’ll be fine.”

  “By morning he was gone. Poof. Nothing to say where he’d gone, or why he’d left…” Fresh tears muffled her words.

  Maddie hadn’t wanted to tell anyone that Fred was gone. When family called she simply redirected their attention with lies like, ‘He’s working late again,’ or, ‘We’ve just got a lot on at the moment.’ Lucas tried to press some more information, struggling to believe that there had been nothing to go on that might say where he had gone. Maddie shook her head, detailing how, as the days rolled by, she had taken to just moping about the house and watching sop
py romcoms. Until she’d eventually retreated so far into her cocoon, that by the time a crazed bomber set off a yellow chemical into the air, she was safe at home with the windows closed, the doors barred, and was able to watch the whole thing from her front window.

  Not that that would have mattered anyway, Lucas thought, remembering Maddie and Fred’s smiling face from the picture.

  “I mean, the whole thing was extraordinary, Luke,” she continued, now on the sofa with a fresh brew in her hands and a blanket across hers and Lucas’ lap. “One minute the sky was clear, the next you couldn’t see to the mailbox. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that it was… y’know…”

  “It is, Maddie. It’s RevitaGo, I’m sure of it.”

  Maddie’s eyes widened. “No… It can’t be.”

  Lucas took the small ID card from his pocket and handed it to Maddie. He felt a surge of anger as he looked at the smiling face of Maurice Parker. The guy that Fresh Prince’d the world and flipped, turned it upside down. “I was there, Maddie. I saw the bastard pull the trigger. Saw the wreckage he caused. Found this near the spot where his body had been torn apart.”

  Maddie held the card in front of her. “But, that’s impossible. You were there? Are you okay? And, how? How could someone have gotten their hands on the formula? It’s still kept under lock and key, right? Reviver’s pact?” She turned and wrapped her arms tight around Lucas’ neck. “Oh, Luke. I couldn’t lose you too…”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. I mean, it was hardly a day out in the park, but I’ll be okay. I hit the floor just before the worst of it could come. But the second part of your question was actually why I came talk to you and Fr— … to you.”

  Maddie placed her cup down and turned to sit cross-legged and faced Lucas. There was a real confusion in her eyes, but damn those greens were enough to knock over a horse. “You can say his name. What’s Fred got to do with this?”

  Even before he said it, he knew it sounded crazy. “I knew about the bomb. I knew where to find it and what time it was due to go off. I drove across state borders at illegal speeds to reach the bomb. Sometimes threatening my own life. Sometimes threatening others. I just knew.”

  “How? How did you know?”

  Lucas took a deep breath. “Because Fred told me in a dream.”

  For a second Maddie’s face froze. Lucas was worried that perhaps he had sent her into a catatonic fit. Had he gone too far? Pushed a button that was already raw with Fred’s departure? She looked at the floor, stood up, crossed to the bookshelf and grabbed another smoke, and turned back to Lucas. “So, are you driving, or am I?”

  “Huh?”

  “Well I’m guessing that means it’s time for a Reviver’s reunion?”

  Lucas grinned. “I’ll drive.”

  “Good. I had a half bottle of wine with breakfast this morning, I probably shouldn’t be behind the wheel.”

  Lucas walked up so close to Maddie that their chests were only inches apart. She was smaller than him and looked up with puppy dog eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this close. He hoped she didn’t notice his breath shaking. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk a bit more? Get dressed? Shower? Change?”

  She nudged him out the way and went to the hallway to grab her coat and shoes. “Nah, I ain’t trying to impress anyone, and we can talk more in the car. Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve been on an adventure, eh?” And with that, she left the front door wide open and walked to Lucas’ car.

  16

  The Land Rover crept forward before James eased on the brake as the cars in front did the same. Slow progress was still progress, but Kurt couldn’t believe how long it was taking them.

  It was one of the warmer days of the summer. The heat beat down on the sea of cars, forcing people to climb out their doors and breath in what little breeze there was. There were some who took advantage of this opportunity, sunbathing on the hoods of their cars, catching up on their books, speaking to friends they hadn’t seen in a while who just happened to be seen a couple cars over. Then there were those that sat miserably inside their vehicles, panting like trapped dogs, some who spent the time arguing and shouting at the policemen and troopers who filtered humans like cattle through their makeshift barrier every time the ferry returned to pick up more passengers.

  On a regular day, it should have taken an hour for the ferry to make a round trip. Ten minutes to board. Twenty minutes to travel. Ten minutes to disembark. Twenty minutes back. But, this was not a regular day. Every time the ferry arrived, the queue tested the polices’ patience, each person eager to make it across the river and drive on to safety. Now and then Kurt could hear the sounds of a scuffle break out, as someone succumbed a delayed reaction to the mist, and was subdued and removed by the folks in blue.

  Four hours later and Kurt and the Powells had made it to the centre of the throng. Karen sat on the bonnet, routinely applying lotion and sipping her wine until her teeth turned red. James had found an ex-colleague a few cars over and had disappeared to talk to him, leaving Kurt in the back of the car, air-con blazing, doing his best to wile away the time by sticking his nose in his book. Only yesterday morning the fantastical tales of Hickory Dalton had left Kurt almost envious of such an exciting life. He had ripped through the pages to find out what was going to happen to the bold space pirate next.

  Now though, the book seemed to have lost its shine. Kurt had had his fill of excitement. It wasn’t as fun as he had imagined. His world had turned upside down, and what had he learned? That even as a survivor of a terrorist attack, a thirteen-year-old boy will always be dragged around by adults that think they knew better. He supposed that they did, really. What else was he supposed to do, wait at home in case a feral Steve returned to kill him too? Head out on the road and hunt for Amy himself? Kurt didn’t even know how to read a map, how was he supposed to travel miles to a neighbouring state to find his sister?

  Please find me…

  He closed the book and gripped his eyes shut. Maybe if he concentrated really hard, he’d be able to talk to Amy again? If he just imagined her face, clamped his mouth, his eyes, his fists, everything as tight as possible… he could…

  Kurt opened his eyes. He was still sat in the back of the Powell’s Land Rover.

  He sighed and turned the page.

  *

  It was late afternoon by the time they could see the front of the queue. The azure blue of the sky began to fade to streaks of orange and pink, leaving no trace that anything strange had ever passed in the skies. Clusters of gulls swooped. A few brave ones dived between the metal of cars to swipe at a wrapper that had been clumsily dropped.

  Had things been running smoothly, and people followed the rules that were set in place, then perhaps things would have gone faster. Kurt, at least, thought that they’d have been on the Scotland docks well over two hours ago. But people were determined to slow the process. The closer they got to the front, the more he saw them. Rude people. Impatient people. Entitled people, hurling abuse at a poor woman officer at the barriers. In a way, Kurt couldn’t really blame them. His own backside hurt, he was uncomfortable now in the sticky leather seats, and just wanted to curl up in a bed and sleep. But they were almost there now. And the police were just doing their job.

  When the ferry came back into sight, James returned to the car, ready to push forward. Knowing that they were going to be moving infinitesimally slow, they left Karen fast asleep on the rooftop. But after two or three cars rolled forward and made their way down the long jetty, there was another holdup. They weren’t sure what was happening exactly until they saw a woman being dragged out of her car kicking and screaming. Even from where he sat he could just make out those creepy veins branching out on her neck.

  She’s infected, Kurt thought. Maybe we’re all infected?

  He hadn’t considered the possibility that anyone around him might still be susceptible to the chemical. He supposed there had been too much on his mind to concern himself with
that. He was safe in the hands of two cautious grownups. And, surely, if Kurt was somehow unaffected by the chemical, wouldn’t that mean that there were others here that were too? Maybe it wasn’t just Kurt and Lucas.

  After the woman disappeared from view a few cars turned on their engines and budged their way out of the crowd, reversing, honking, bumping into cars where necessary. James adjusted to allow one past him, the wing mirror of the sedan scratching the side of his car. Kurt saw an incredibly angry looking old man in the driver’s seat, and beneath the white of his shirt, those same dark zigzags that he had begun to realise were a surefire sign that soon that man would turn into one of them. A feral.

  After at least twenty cars navigated their way out and sped off, Kurt had thought the process would move along more quickly. The gaps were quickly filled by more cars. But there were still those that tried to hide their affliction from the police. Each one ended the same – in tears and screams.

  Kurt rolled his eyes and looked at the sky as another man was dragged away. The colours were a beautiful distraction. But they did little to hold his attention when he heard a familiar voice.

  “This is a little excessive, isn’t it?”

  Kurt leant out the car window and saw that one of the policemen held a man to the hood of a gleaming Ford. The man’s cheeks were squashed against the bonnet as the officer behind pulled out a pair of handcuffs. The voice came again from the inside of the car. “Gently, now. He’s not as young as he used to be.”

  Without a word, Kurt hopped out of the Rover and walked to the passenger side of the car. James was busy looking the other way, and Linda was still snoring on the roof, skin turning a gentle pink. As Kurt approached he was dimly aware of a few more officers walking his way, but he paid them no attention. He pulled open the car door where a man in his fifties was sat. He had a dark crop of hair flecked with silver streaks and deep worry grooves on his forehead. The man turned to see who had opened his door. His mouth fell open and his lips peeled into a wide smile.