“Well, anyway, sorry about your mate,” he said and turned away.
“Wait,” Claire called out.
Sam turned to face her, “What, so she can call me a prick again?” He asked, tilting his head at Lex.
“No, I just wondered if you had heard anything about what’s going on.” she replied, ignoring the daggers Lex was sending in her direction.
“Nah, nuffin,” Sam replied. “No one has said a word to me in days. Have you heard anything?”
“Everyone is talking about what happened to Paige …” Tears welled in her eyes. “That man bit her. They are saying he was a zombie,” Claire said.
Lex snorted but remained silent.
“Ha, zombies.” Sam laughed, then noticed Claire’s obvious distress. “Sorry. Um no, it can’t be zombies. I reckon that bloke got confused and attacked Paige by mistake.”
He gestured over at the soldiers standing guard at the entrance. “That squaddie knew she would get the Black Flu. See, it’s contagious ain’t it? I bet they couldn’t risk passing it on to everyone else.”
“Okay,” Claire said, drawing the word out, “I guess that would make more sense. What do you think?” she turned to Lex, wanting to engage the other girl in the conversation.
“I still think he’s a prick, but I think he’s right. Zombies don’t exist. They can’t exist. It’s impossible,” she replied, “There is something that I don't understand, though. I thought the Black Flu had an incubation period of up to forty-eight hours."
“A what period?” Sam interrupted.
“Look,” Lex huffed. “just sit down for a minute. Looking up at you is making my neck hurt.” She ignored the smile on Sam’s face as he took a seat next to her. “An incubation period is the time it takes for a pathogen, like a virus, to show symptoms.”
Sam nodded, “Okay, so?”
“Well,” Lex said, “if the incubation period is up to forty-eight hours, that means that we could be infected without showing any symptoms for two days.”
“Right,” Sam said knowingly, “er … so?”
“So, we left Alicante around six on Sunday morning. Anyone infected would have shown symptoms by now.” She looked expectantly, first at Sam and then at Claire, as though expecting something.
“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said, “oh, I see, we’re not infected. That's good, innit?”
“It is, but if we’re not infected, why are we still in a quarantine camp?” Claire asked.
“Exactly,” Lex replied.
“Ah,” Sam’s confused expression turned to one of realisation. He thought for a second. “Ere, can you get a phone signal?” he asked. “Maybe we can call someone. The papers or summat to tell them we’re being held captive.”
“Nope, neither of us have had any since we landed,” Claire answered.
“I’m not sure the papers would really care about us, either,” Lex added, “I wouldn’t mind phoning Sally, though.” An uncomfortable silence fell on the group at the mention of Sally’s name.
Eventually, Sam spoke. “Um, why?”
“She told us that as soon as she got home, she was going to get her dad to get us out too,” Lex said.
“Oh, well, I’m sure she’s trying,” Sam said, not really believing his own words. If Sally’s dad had managed to get her out so quickly, surely, he could have got these two out by now.
The conversation stalled, each lost in their own thoughts.
Sam broke the silence, “How do you know all this smart shit?” he asked Lex
“I like science, that’s all,” she muttered, as though ashamed of the admission.
“Ha,” the laughter lit up Claire’s face. “That’s a bit of an understatement. Lex is a complete science nerd. She’s going to be a doctor.” She leaned over and gave Lex’s hand a squeeze to show that there were no hard feelings.
“I didn’t do good at science when I was at school. It was too hard.” Sam said. ‘In fact, I didn’t do good at much at school.”
“Well,” Claire said.
Sam waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he prompted, “Well what?”
“You didn’t do well at school. Not you didn’t do good,” she corrected him, “Saying you didn’t do good is a poor use of English.”
“See, I’ve already learnt more sat here for five minutes that I did in years of school,” he grinned.
This prompted a conversation about their school years, and they spent the afternoon talking. Sam found out that the two girls had been friends with Sally and Paige since their early school days, although it didn’t sound like the four of them had been very popular.
In fact, they were the types of people Sam and his mates would have taken the piss out of when he was at school. Studious, serious and talented.
In contrast, Sam had been very popular, he’d had a large group of friends and his pick of the girls. Yet he had left school with no qualifications and a bleak future, whereas, Lex, Claire and Sally were all at college, studying hard to get into university, and ultimately into their dream jobs.
The afternoon turned to evening. Eventually, Sam yawned and stretched, “Right, well, erm cheers. It’s been nice. You know? Chatting. I guess I’d best leave you to it.”
“Actually Sam, you’re alright when you’re not acting like a prick,” Lex said.
“That’s Lex’s way of saying goodnight,” Claire said, smiling.
“Oh …, er … right, well, goodnight,” he replied and trundled across the other side of camp to his sleeping bag.
He zipped himself up in his sleeping bag, the conversations of the afternoon replaying in his head. It had been nice, talking to them. He couldn’t remember when he had just sat and chatted with girls without thinking of ways to get them in bed. He drifted off to sleep with a small smile on his face.
~
“Sam … Sam …” His name being called penetrated his dreams and made him fidget in his sleep. It was the motion of his body being shaken that eventually roused him. He opened his eyes sleepily, and peered into the darkness, trying to make out the owner of the hand on his shoulder.
“Sam, wake up.” It was Claire, who was still shaking him.
“Gerroff,” he groaned, “what time is it?”
“Around four I think,” Claire whispered.
“Something strange is going on,” Lex interjected, startling Sam. He rolled in his sleeping bag to see her on the other side of him. “The soldiers have gone.” His eyes now adjusted to the darkness, Sam could see that she was pointing in the general direction of the entrance.
“What do you mean, gone?” he asked, “maybe they’ve gone for a piss.”
“I don’t think so,” Lex said, “I got up to use the loo a couple of hours ago, and they were gone. They haven’t been back since.”
“So?” Sam asked, his sleep-addled mind failing to grasp the problem.
Lex sighed as though the answer was obvious, “So, why would they just sneak off in the middle of the night? Surely they should have just waited until morning and let us all go home?”
“Oh yeah. Good point. Um … well, maybe they …um, it could be …” Sam tried to think of a logical reason but his mind came back empty, “I dunno, maybe we should see if they’re outside somewhere?”
Another sigh from Lex, “Good thinking, genius. Why do you think we woke you up? We didn’t want to go on our own.”
“No need to be like that,” he said. “I’m still half asleep. You could have just fucking said that.”
“Look.” Lex snapped. “Just go back to sleep. We’ll manage on our own.”
“Sorry,” Sam replied, “I’m a bit of a grumpy dick in the mornings. Course I’ll help. Just gimme a sec to wake up.” He made as though to stand, but he forgot he was in his sleeping bag. He lost his balance and tumbled down, knocking over Lex who was still crouched next to him.
Unable to help herself, Claire let out a loud laugh.
“Ssssshhhh,” Sam and Lex chorused. A few sleeping bags rustled nearby, the
occupants shifting in their sleep.
Sam added in a whisper, “We don’t want to wake the rest of these grumpy fuckwits. They’ll all be wanting to come.” Trying to make as little sound as possible, he untangled himself from Lex, then extracted himself from his own sleeping bag.
Claire’s phone emitted enough of a soft glow to allow them to navigate through the sea of sleeping bodies. They reached the entrance without incident. A table held two half-empty mugs of coffee, a clipboard and a torch.
“Torch,” Sam exclaimed unnecessarily and picked it up. “This might come in handy.” His hands moved to the coffee cups. “Cold,” he said.
Lex rolled her eyes behind him. “Well, if they left a couple of hours ago the coffee would be cold, wouldn’t it?” She hissed. “Seriously Sam, is there no end to your genius?”
“Sounds like I’m not the only one who’s a dick in the morning.” Sam retorted.
“Prick,” said Lex.
“Dick,” replied Sam.
“For goodness sake, you two, pack it in,” Claire hissed. “Now are we going or not?” All three of them turned towards the entrance of the marquee. Yet none of them took a step towards it.
“What if it’s locked?” Sam asked, suddenly nervous at the thought of leaving. The soldiers could be on the other side.
“Oh, my God,” groaned Lex. “It’s a bloody marquee. How on earth would they lock it?’
“Oh, erm yeah … good point.” He felt the blush rise up his cheeks. He turned to Lex, “Well maybe you should go first.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you’re the brains, makes sense for you to go first, you know, assess the situation.”
“You’re a man. You should go first, make sure it’s safe.” Lex countered.
“What happened to equality?” he said.
“What happened to being a gentleman?” she countered.
He tried a different tack. “What good would I be against soldiers with guns?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he had said the wrong thing.
Even in the dim light of the tent, he could see the red flush of anger surge across her face. “So, you’re saying it’s okay for me to go and got shot, but not for you?”
“Well, I’m not going first,” Sam stated, folding his arms resolutely.
“Well, neither am I,” Lex said, mirroring him.
They stood and glared at each other, neither willing to be the one to concede.
“Are you two coming or not?” Claire called out quietly. Lex and Sam turned in the direction of her voice. She was standing at the entrance, holding open the door, grinning.
It had been daylight when they’d entered the quarantine tent on Sunday. Now it was dark, very dark. No moon brightened the sky. No lights twinkled in the distance.
“It’s dark,” Sam said
“You have a torch.” Lex said, adding “genius,” under her breath.
Sam laughed, “Oh yeah,” the tension from minutes ago having eased now that he knew he was not about to get shot. He flicked the torch on, but he was disappointed to see that it did little to penetrate the consuming darkness.
“Wasn’t there different zones or summat?” He asked, trying to remember what he had seen when he first arrived at the quarantine camp.
“Yes,” Claire replied. “We were in Tent A. Which implies that there must be at least a tent B.
“There must be. They took my mates somewhere else. We should go and find the other tents.”
“Okay,” Claire said, “good idea.”
They edged forward slowly until eventually, they came across a sign pointing back the way they had come for tent A, and ahead for tent B. As they got closer, the outlines of another marquee started to emerge from the darkness.
“Turn the torch off, someone might see us,” Claire whispered. The urgency in her voice prompted Sam to act quickly, and the darkness engulfed them once more.
Claire led the way, keeping a slow pace so the others could keep up. She frequently turned to check they were still behind her.
At the entrance to the marquee, she paused. The tilt of her head implied that she was listening for something. Apparently satisfied, she said, “It’s quiet, let’s go in.”
“Okay,” said Sam, relieved that Claire was taking charge. He would never admit it, but he was more than a little scared. This way he didn’t look like a chicken.
Claire slowly unzipped the entrance. Holding the thick canvas material in one arm and pulling her phone out with the other, she whispered, ‘I’ll use my phone for light, it’s not as bright as the torch.”
She pointed the phone at an angle in front her, so that they could be confident they would not step on anyone or anything as they edged deeper into the marquee.
Then Claire stopped abruptly. “Oh, my God,” she said.
Sam peered over her shoulder, “Why are they all sleeping zipped into their bags? It’s not that cold in here,” he laughed, at the same time as Lex let out a small gasp.
“Sam,” Claire said, “turn the torch on.”
“But we’ll wake them up,” he protested.
“No,” she said slowly. “I don’t think we will.”
Sam turned the torch on and pointed it immediately in front of him, realisation dawning. He stepped forward and peered down. “They’re not sleeping bags, are they?” he asked.
“No,” Lex said, kneeling in front of one of the still forms, and unzipping the bag to reveal a pale white corpse. A bloodied red hole in the centre of the forehead, contrasting with the ivory pallor. “They’re body bags.”
Sam aimed the torch left, then right, straight ahead into the distance, then immediately in front. He let out a low whistle. “There are tons of them.”
“Hundreds,” Claire confirmed.
Sam knelt next to Lex and shone the torch at the half-exposed corpse. Before he could stop himself, he reached out a tentative finger and poked at its cheek. The skin felt cold and firm. Disgusted and slightly freaked out, he pulled his hand away sharply. The momentum knocked him off balance, and he fell backwards to land on another body bag. The torch rolled across the floor but was promptly snatched up by Lex. Sam scrambled to his feet and bolted out of the marquee. The sound of him vomiting permeated through the stillness of the night.
Lex groaned, “Claire, could you go and check if he’s okay, please?”
“Don’t you mind being left in here alone?” Claire asked, shuddering involuntarily.
“They’re just people. I want to take a look at a few,” Lex said, already unzipping another bag and shining the torch at the face.
“Er … okay … well if you’re sure,’ Claire said and fled from the tent.
“Mmm,” Lex said, absorbed in her thoughts. She checked another bag; all three corpses had been shot in the head. Of course, she was assuming that it was a gunshot wound, but she could not think of anything else that would cause that type of injury. She unzipped the bag all the way. Exposing the entire body. There was an open wound on the calf. A chunk of skin and muscle had been ripped from the leg, exposing the bone. She continued to check each bag.
The next four were all a variation on the same theme. A gunshot wound to the head. Another injury somewhere else on the body.
The fifth bag she opened was different. A gunshot wound and another injury were both present. It was the face that was different. It was covered in blood. Lex reached into her pocket and dug out some tissue. She spat on it and then used it to clean the face, hoping to find a cut that would explain why the blood was there. Nothing.
She moved from bag to bag. Unzipping each. Taking a quick look before moving on to the next. She found more with blood on their faces, but still no evident sign of an injury that would have caused it to be there.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she processed this information. What it meant was obvious. Yet she could not accept it. She opened more bags and gave the encased bodies nothing more than a cursory glance, as she thought it through.
Sam came back into the
marquee. “Lex … can we get out …?” his words fell short as he eyes settled on one of the exposed bodies. “No…” he whispered, ‘it can’t be …’ hearing the distress in his voice Lex turned to him. He had turned a ghostly shade of white.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. In the few hours she had known Sam, he had not given her any impression of emotional depth, yet now as she stared at him, he looked lost and vulnerable. She joined him next to the body he was looking at. “Did you know him?” she asked.
“Yeah, he’s my best mate... Dean, we were on his stag in Alicante… He’s. He was getting married.” Sam said, his voice breaking. A thought occurred to him, and he started frantically searching the other bags. It wasn’t long before he found Ian and the other four lads that he had spent the weekend with.
“I’m so sorry, Sam,” Lex said softly and put her arm around him. Unused to displays of affection, or to being treated with empathy, the act caused Sam to flinch as though her touch burned him.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he exploded. She recoiled, uncertain of what she had done wrong. “Don’t try to make me feel better. My mates are dead. All of my mates are fucking dead. And you’re fucking sorry? Do you even know how that feels?” The words gushed from him, an uncontrolled torrent of abuse. “You don’t even like me, so don’t go around pretending that you care. Just leave me the fuck alone.”
Anger bubbled up within her throughout his tirade. When he had stopped shouting she raised herself to her full height and stood with her face inches from his.
“How dare you?” She said. “A few days ago, I saw one of my best friends get shot. Right in front of me. So don’t you dare tell me I don’t know how it feels.” Her tone was indignant and challenging.
“What the hell is going on?” Claire asked, having run back into the tent after hearing the shouting. “What’s happened?” Sam and Lex stood glaring at each other. “Right fine. If you’re not going to answer me, then at least start moving. I don’t like it here, it’s creepy.”
“Fine,” said Lex.
“Fine,” said Sam and stalked towards the exit.
Safe Zone (Book 1): The Greater Good Page 6