The World's Last Breaths: Final Winter, Animal Kingdom, and The Peeling

by Iain Rob Wright

  The space at the end of the hallway was lit by a pair of floor lamps, the industrial kind you found at construction sites. Thick cables disappeared into a large square box that must have been some kind of giant battery. The light made it easy to see what was happening, but difficult to stay hidden. Dr Zantoko and a dozen other people huddled inside the neo-natal ward. They had barricaded the doors and windows with beds and equipment, and Zantoko peeked through the glass the pair of soldiers outside.

  “Doctor?” One of the soldiers banged on the glass. Like the other soldiers, his voice was distorted by his gas mask. “Someone is bringing an explosive to blow this room open, which is a very messy way of dealing with things. Come out voluntarily and we will lead you out the hospital to safety.”

  “Like you did all the others?” Zantoko spat. “Not likely.”

  “Those people were sick. You people inside are well. We don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Then leave!”

  The soldier pulled his gas mask up over his head and sighed. “I can’t do that, Doctor. Please, just work with me here.”

  Zantoko pressed his glaring face up against the glass. “There are babies in here, sirs. Are you going to kill babies?”

  The soldier groaned and turned to his colleague. “Jesus, where the hell is Chris? Sooner we get this over, the sooner we can get back out in the fresh air. I swear I can’t breath properly.” He pulled his mask back down. “I don’t care if the people in there are healthy or not--I’m ready to burn this place to the ground.” Zantoko and the others were uninfected. They still had a chance. Devey raised his gun and pulled the trigger. The stream of bullets struck the soldier on the left, reducing his head to pulp. The gun was still a bucking mule, so as he tried to rake the bullet stream towards the other soldier, but his aim went high. The soldier collided with the wall and let out a cry, but he didn’t go down. He raised his gun at Devey and pulled the trigger.

  Devey felt a wasp sting his collarbone and he bit a chunk of his tongue to keep from screaming. He thought he was dead, about to be torn apart by gunfire, but the soldier who had just shot him dropped his gun and slumped to the ground, clutching his neck and coughing. He fought to remove his gas mask.. “Ah fuck! Y-You shot me!”

  Devey stumbled over to the wounded soldier, ignoring the agony in his entire right shoulder. “Serves you bloody right,” he grunted. “The people inside that room are healthy. Leave them alone.”

  The soldier sighed, wincing as he pressed against his neck. “It… It’s not my call.”

  Devey aimed his gun at the man’s face. “Whose call is it?”

  “PH3,” he muttered.

  “Who the hell is that?”

  “The... the people who cut off a hand to save an arm. The virus is... it’s everywhere. We need to contain it or we’re...” he gritted againt the pain in his neck, “finished.”

  Devey lowered his gun. “The virus is everywhere?”

  “It came out of nowhere. Started at a bingo hall in the city, but now it’s spread all over the country in less than a day. The fact it presents so fast is the only reason we have any chance at all. If we euthanize the infected, we can cut off the hand before it takes the arm.”

  Devey raised his gun and used it to point to the neo-natal ward. “The people in that room are healthy.”

  “Orders. No one leaves the hospital.”

  “That’s insane.” He aimed the gun at the man’s face again.

  The soldier tried to lift his hand away from his neck, but he couldn’t. “Please, it’s not my choice. It’s my orders.”

  “I’m giving you new orders.” Devey scowled at the soldier bleeding to death at his feet, then shoved his hand against the bullet wound in his shoulder. He brought his fingertips back bloody and thrust them inches away from the soldier’s face. “I assume you know the infection is spread via contact.”

  The soldier nodded eagerly, terrified. He tried to shuffle back, but there was nowhere to move.

  Devey growled. “You do anything to hurt the people in that room and I’ll fist you with my bloody hand. Leave this ward and don’t come back.”

  The soldier groaned. “I can’t go until I have dealt with this entire floor.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” Devey snapped. “Because I’ll kill you before you get a chance. So go.”

  The soldier’s radio buzzed, and a voice came out. “Daniels, we’re ten minutes out on the det charges. We didn’t bring any in the initial load out.”

  Devey thrust held his bloody hand next to the soldier’s face. The soldier shuddered and turned to face the radio on his shoulder. When he did so, he revealed the flesh wound on his neck. It was bleeding steadily. He pressed a button on the radio and gave a reply. “Negative. Cancel det charges All targets eliminated. Stevens didn’t make it. Some asshole with one of our guns.”

  “Roger that. Someone took out one of our guys and managed to arm himself. Must have been some kind of ex-special forces. Made a right mess of Charlie Team. Well done for getting the bastard. Are you standing down?”

  The soldier grunted. “Roger that. Mission accomplished. I’m hurt though. I need Thompson to take a look at me.”

  “Regroup at the main entrance. We’re pulling out in five.”

  “Roger that.”

  Devey let out a breath, not realising how tense the radio call had made him. The soldier, for his part, had lied convincingly. “Your men are leaving?” he asked.

  “Not my men, but yes, we’re pulling out. The hospital has neutralised.” He side-eyed the neo-natal ward behind him. “Almost.”

  “Not a word,” said Devey. “I’m letting you leave here with your life. Thank me for it.”

  The soldier fought his way back up to his feet and went to retrieve his gun. Devey kicked it away. “Nice try. Your machine gun stays with me.” “It’s a sub-machine gun,” the soldier replied pettily.

  Devey frowned. “What’s the dif—actually, it doesn’t matter. Just get out of here, asshole.”

  The soldier stumbled away, but before he exited, he stopped and turned around. “It’s bad out there,” he said. “Best thing you can do for the people inside is put a bullet in their heads. If you don’t, you’ll infect them all anyway.” The soldier tapped at his own forehead which prompted Devey to feel his face. He felt the raw, bleeding skin and wondered what he must look like. The soldier left, and after a few minutes, Devey decided the coast was clear. With the muzzle of his gun, he tapped on the glass window of the neo-natal ward.

  Zantoko appeared, glaring, but then he saw Devey and frowned. “Mr Singh?”

  “Hello, Doctor. Everything is okay now. The soldiers have gone.”

  “How?”

  “It…” He puffed out his cheeks out, too tired to explain. “It doesn’t matter. Is everyone inside okay?”

  “Yes! We are all healthy. I’m afraid you must stay away, Mr Singh.”

  Devey nodded. “I understand. I won’t try to come in, but you need to stay in there until it’s safe. How long can you hold out in there?”

  There was a pause while Zantoko thought about it. “Two days perhaps. There is food in the nurse’s fridge and we have milk formula and access to clean water. You think we should remain inside?”

  “The sickness is passed by touch, right? The fact you’re all okay means it must be clean in there. Maybe in a couple days the infection will die off and it will be safe to come out, but right now you are best off staying put.”

  “But we need help,” said Zantoko. “There are newborn babies here.”

  Devey’s fear doubled at the thought of infecting babies with his sickness. “The virus has spread everywhere. It’s a mess. The longer you stay safe in there the better. You’re a doctor—you can look after the babies.” Zantoko nodded slowly behind the glass. “Okay. I think you may be right. You should leave though, Mr Singh. Find someone who can help you.”

  Always a doctor, Devey thought, as he saw the compassion on the weary doctor’s face. He smiled
warmly, but then considered that he might look more nightmarish than friendly. “There’s no one left to treat me, Doctor. I’ll be outside in the corridor, watching out for you all.”

  Zantoko sighed. “Thank you, Mr Singh—Devey. I’m sorry things turned out this way. I feel responsible.”

  “You’re not, but thank you.” He looked past Zantoko and saw Ken and some other staff he recognised. He also saw a mother cradling a tiny baby. Seeing that hurt more than the rotting flesh on his face. It forced him to turn around and leave. Out in the corridor, Devey heard engines starting and equipment being loaded. The soldiers were pulling out, but would the one he’d released keep his word? Or would a team of gunmen appear any minute to finish the job? The longer Devey waited, the more things seemed to be okay. Eventually it was silent, the middle of the night, and he was sitting all alone.

  He must have fallen asleep because he jolted when he heard a noise. It was a voice, distorted but understandable. “Hello? Devey? Devey, can you hear this?”

  Devey got up in a fluster and raced over to where the voice was coming from. He realised it was the intercom next to the broken doors. Blinking himself awake, he gave a reply. “Yes! I’m here. Who is this?”

  “Sonja.”

  “The nurse who took care of me?”

  “Actually, you took care of me. Ken is here too. We both made it here in one piece. I had a little girl, just like I told you. Her name is Lauren.”

  Devey grinned. “That’s a beautiful name.”

  “She’s got a set of lungs on her. I just woke up to feed her and Dr Zantoko told me about what you did. You made the soldiers leave.”

  Devey smiled, even though she wouldn’t see it. “I helped. They were leaving anyway.”

  There was a sigh on the other end of the call, then Sonja said, “I heard you were sick. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes! Keep away from me so you can tell Lauren what a handsome and brave man I was.”

  Giggling. “I will tell her all about you, Devey. Do you need me to call anyone for you? Our mobile phones are working again, off and on.”

  Devey fingered his own phone in the pocket of his shorts. “That’s okay. I don’t need to call anyone yet. Is everyone still okay in there?”

  “A couple of sore ladies, but yes, we’re fine. The infection would have shown by now. We’re all lucky. How is the rest of the hospital? Did anyone else make it?”

  “I don’t think so, I’m sorry. I keep meaning to check things out, but I… I must have fallen asleep.”

  A baby cried in the background. “Don’t worry about us, Devey. Go find some drugs and a bed. You need to rest.”

  “I’ll be dead soon, Sonja. Rest is not the best use of my time.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He thought he was crying, but when he rubbed his face, he saw blood. “Me too. I hope we speak again before… well, you know.”

  “I’m here, Devey.”

  “Me too,” came Ken’s voice, sounding thick and emotional. Devey smiled again. “Thanks.”

  He couldn’t relax until he knew the hospital was truly empty, so Devey headed back to the main waiting area. It was the same as he’d left it, except now the blood was dry. The main entrance was still barricaded, but the fire exit hung wide open, held in place by a bin. He could finally walk right out of there, but what would be the point? He would die wherever he went. The vending machines were shattered from gunfire, and a doctor lay dead in front of them. His white coat was stained red. Thirsty and hungry, Devey stepped over the corpse and helped himself to snacks, propping his gun against the wall so that he could fill both hands. No one would mind his theft, he was sure. And he wouldn’t need to worry about the calories.

  He took his haul over to the long reception desk and sat down on a roller chair. As he tucked himself in, his knees knocked against something soft.

  “Fuck! Watch it!”

  Devey threw himself back in his chair and yelled. When he saw the man hiding under the table, he almost laughed. “Lee? Shit, man, what are you doing here?”

  “People were fucking shooting up the place. Are they gone?”

  Devey nodded. “Did you… find your mum?”

  He cleared his throat and then got out from beneath the desk with a grim expression on his face. “She went in her sleep,” he said. “They told me she didn’t suffer for the last part.”

  “I’m sorry. Was she… did she have?”

  “Yeah, she was a rotting mess at the end. The smell was foul. So where is everyone else?”

  “The maternity ward. Dr Zantoko, Ken, Sonja, and others.”

  Lee beamed with delight, and it was then that Devey saw his gums were bloody. Several of his teeth were gone too. From his grinning expression, he didn’t seem too concerned. “That’s great,” he said. “Come on then, what the hell are we doing here?”

  Devey reached out and held the Lee’s forearm. “We can’t, we’re sick.”

  Lee shrugged free of his grasp. “Which is why I want to see the doctors.”

  “They can’t help you.”

  “The fuck do you know?”

  Devey grabbed the man again, this time hard around his wrist. “Look at my face, Lee. Do you think if the doctors could help, I would be stood here talking to you. All that will happen if you go to see them is you’ll infect them. We’re dead men walking. It sucks, but there’s no changing it.”

  Lee tried to break free again, but this time Devey held firm. “Let go of me. Now!”

  “I can’t do that. I have put up with as much as I will take today. You’re not going there and infecting everyone.”

  Lee grit his teeth, but then sighed and relaxed, finally seeming to understand. Then he showed otherwise by smashing his fist into Devey’s nose. The pain was immense, not just from his nose breaking, but from his infected flesh tearing away from his cheekbones. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his bleeding face, and sure he was going to choke on his own blood.

  “Fuckin’ Paki!” Lee growled and kicked Devey in the ribs, sending him rolling in agony. Then Lee stormed off. Devey reached out to stop him, tried to yell, but all that came from his beaten lungs was an endless moan. He collapsed onto his back, trying desperately to breathe. He went so long without air he started blacking out. His vision curled at the edges and his stomach turned flips. If he didn’t get a hold of himself, Lee would reach the maternity ward and kill everyone. Including Sonja and her baby.

  Lauren.

  Devey gritted his teeth and focused the pain inwards, into his centre. Then, all at once, he was sucking in air like a jet engine. He lost his breath again momentarily, but after several erratic gasps, he was inhaling and exhaling again in the regular rhythm. He wiped blood from his face and stumbled back to his feet, using the desk for support. He took off after Lee, but not before first revisiting the vending machines.

  The sub-machine gun was a part of him now, and he enjoyed its ability to deal with problems so efficiently. With all the innocent death he had witnessed this day, shooting dead a few bad guys did not disgust him. He just hoped he wouldn’t pay for the sins in the next life. He hoisted the weapon and took off down the corridor as fast as he could, hoping he knew the way better than Lee did.

  Devey caught up to Lee scant moments before he was about to enter the maternity ward. The thug strolled casually as if he had all the time in the world. Did he not realise that no doctor could help him now? Did he think Zantoko would present him with a handful of pills to make his sickness go away?

  The man was insane.

  “Lee! Stop! I can’t let you go in there.”

  Lee spun with his fists clenched, ready to fight, but when he saw the gun in Devey's hands his snarl turned to a tight-lipped frown. “Where the fuck you get that?”

  “From a man I killed, and you’ll be next if you don’t back away from those doors. You’re not going in there.”

  “I need help," he said, softly like he might get down on his knees and beg. "Let the doctors
tell me themselves if they can’t help, but I have to try.”

  “They can’t help you, Lee! Now step aside before I shoot you.”

  Lee gave a lopsided grin that was bordering on a snarl. “You ain’t going to shoot me.”

  Devey took a slow breath, enjoying it as something so simple and yet so numbered. In addition to Lee’s bloody gums, he now noticed a soreness to the man's eyelids and nostrils. It could have resembled a simple cold, but Devey knew Lee's flesh was only minutes away from peeling away. The guy had no chance. Neither of them did. “I can’t murder a dead man,” said Devey before pulling the trigger.

  The surprise on Lee’s face betrayed the fact he had truly thought Devey bluffing. In the split-second he realised he was about to be shot, Lee bolted forward to tackle him. He took a bullet, but was still able to make contact. The two of them went down in a heap with Lee on top. They fought and punched at one another. Lee was the bigger man, and less sick, so he clattered Devey across the face with lefts and rights. All this he did despite bleeding from a bullet wound in his chest. Devey was reminded that he had been shot too. His whole body screamed in pain.

  He was in danger of blacking out again, and as he threw his hands out desperately, he wished he had managed to keep hold of his gun. Lee swatted his hands aside easily, and Devey grew more and more desperate.

  “Devey? Is that you? What’s going on out there?”

  Lee looked around confused, not understand that the disembodied voice had come from the intercom on the wall. It bought Devey enough time to jab his fingers into the bloody bullet wound on Lee’s chest. The bigger man wailed and fell away, allowing Devey to roll free. The gun lay on the floor nearby, and he snatched at it urgently. He made it up to his knees by the time Lee charged at him again. "I'll kill you, you fuckin' Paki!"

  Devey lifted the gun. “I’m not Pakistani. I’m Sikh.” Then he squeezed the trigger and punched Lee back against the opposite wall. He slid down onto his rump, leaving a slick trail of blood behind him on the plaster. The gun click-click-clicked, finally empty.