Mass Extinction Event (Book 1): Days 1-8

by Amy Cross

  "Like who?" I ask. "There's no-one else around."

  "Not that we've seen so far," he replies, "but everything can change in the blink of an eye."

  For the next few minutes, we load up the cart with as many things as we can. Glancing at the dates on the cans, I see that some of them are good for another two years, and I try to imagine us still sitting around here after all that time, still waiting to be rescued. Still, it's starting to look as if we're not going to starve, even if our options are going to be fairly limited.

  "This is so cool," Henry says as he walks past me.

  "Cool?" I ask, turning to him.

  He drops a load of cans into the shopping cart. "Well, kind of," he replies. "I mean, it's kind of cool to be able to just come in and take what we want. I don't mean that everything's cool." Spotting something behind me, he hurries over and pulls a bunch of gift cards away from a display. "There's, like, two thousand dollars' worth of cards here," he says, his eyes wide with glee. "Can you imagine getting two grand?"

  "And how are you gonna use them?" I point out. "There's no electricity."

  "Maybe one day."

  "They're useless, Henry. They're not even worth the plastic they're printed on."

  "I guess," he replies, before stuffing them into his pocket. "Then again, you never know." He hurries back over to join Bob, and I watch for a moment as they continue to grab everything they can find and stuff it into the cart. After a few minutes, the cart is filled to the top and Bob grabs another from the back, and the whole process is repeated a couple of times until finally we've got three full carts, which we proceed to wheel back to our building. I've got to admit, it feels kind of good to see our stash of food go from being scarily low to suddenly being filled with all kinds of items, and it's not even midday yet. If we keep this up until sunset, we can be sitting pretty by the end of the day.

  "We'll go to the pharmacy next," Bob explains, leading us back out onto the sidewalk. "There are a few nearby, but there's a bigger one about five blocks away. I figure we might as well go for the mother-load. We need pain-killers, antiseptics, bandages, things like that. In the current situation, even a relatively minor wound could become a big problem if it's not treated properly." He glances over at us as we keep walking. "You know what? I'm starting to think we make a pretty good team."

  Henry smiles, and I can see that this means a lot to him. It's strange to note how quickly Henry has adapted to this new life, and how much he seems to enjoy his new role as Bob's deputy. With a rifle slung over his shoulder, he looks almost like one of those child soldiers from the news, and I can't help wondering how far he's willing to go in order to keep Bob happy. In barely four days, my little brother has gone from being a couch potato to being a gun-toting, order-taking little authoritarian. I had no idea people could change so quickly.

  "Stop!" Bob says suddenly, holding out a hand to stop us in our tracks. There's an urgent, concerned tone to his voice, as if he's seen something that worries him. My initial reaction is that he's just being over-cautious, but I've got to admit that there's something pretty spooky about these empty streets.

  Henry immediately takes the rifle from his shoulder, removes the safety catch, and holds it out in front of us. "What?" he asks. "I don't see anything."

  "There's the pharmacy," Bob replies, "but do you see what I see?"

  Looking along the street, it takes a moment before I realize that the window of the pharmacy appears to have been smashed. The rest of the shops haven't suffered any damage, so it looks as if someone has deliberately broken into the place, which means there are definitely other people alive in the city. After nearly four days of feeling as if we're alone, it's kind of shocking to find the first evidence that we're not the only survivors. At the same time, I'm filled with conflicting thoughts: on the one hand, I want to find these other people and find out what they know, but I'm also worried that they might be dangerous. Suddenly, and surprisingly, I'm forced to accept that Bob might have been right when he said we needed weapons; he said he didn't have a spare gun for me, but he offered me a hunting knife, and now I'm thinking maybe I should have accepted.

  "Let's take this nice and slow," Bob says, raising his rifle. "Remember, there's no need to escalate the situation. It's quiet probably nothing, but this isn't the time to take risks. Let's just be a little cautious and keep from making any rash decisions." He looks over at Henry. "Can I trust you, boy? You're not gonna go doing anything stupid, are you?"

  "No, Sir," Henry says, a look of fierce determination on his face.

  "You follow my lead. Understood?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Let's just go," I say, keeping my voice down. "We can go to one of the other pharmacies. Why do we have to go barging into this one?"

  "If there are other agents on the ground in this area," Bob says coldly, "I want to know."

  "Other agents?" I stare at him for a moment. I can't help feeling that this guy is getting a little full of himself. "What are you talking about?"

  "The girl waits here," Bob says after a moment.

  "The girl?" I reply, raising my eyebrows.

  "This is potentially a combat situation," he says. "You're unarmed, and in the event of an engagement with the enemy, we don't need to be worrying about your position. You could get caught in the crossfire, or you could be used as a hostage. It's best to keep the field of combat clean. Stay here and wait for the all-clear from us, okay? If anything goes seriously wrong, make your way back to the building, but be careful that you're not followed. We don't want anyone finding out primary location." He pauses for a moment. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I shouldn't have referred to you as the girl. That was insensitive of me. I hope no offense was taken."

  "It's fine," I say quietly, stepping back into a nearby doorway so that 'the boys' can get on with what they're doing. Bob and Henry move slowly and carefully toward the pharmacy, with Bob taking the lead and Henry taking up the rear. I've got this horrible, knotted, twisted feeling in my gut as I watch my little brother carrying a gun into what could be a dangerous situation, but I know better than to try arguing; at least Bob seems to be fairly sensible, so hopefully he's going to keep things under control. Besides, if the glass had been broken recently, we'd probably have heard it; whoever was here, they're probably long gone by now.

  "Hello?" Bob shouts, once he and Henry are just a few meters from the pharmacy. "We mean you no harm. Is anybody in there?" He waits for a moment, but there's no reply. "We're armed!" he calls out. "However, this is purely for our protection, and you have no reason to be worried. If you're in there, I would ask that you emerge with your hands clearly held out in front of you. Again, we mean you no harm, but we need to be certain that you have no ill intentions toward us."

  Nothing.

  Silence.

  "We're coming inside!" Bob shouts. "Again, we mean you no harm and all I ask if that you identify yourselves at the earliest possible opportunity. If you choose not to do so, we cannot and will not be held accountable for any mistakes that occur."

  As I watch Bob step through the broken window, followed by Henry, I can't help but feel worried. Even though it seems as if the other people are long gone, I'm starting to realize that the city is potentially a huge death-trap. There might be other people out there; even worse, those 'other people' might be like Bob, in which case we need to be careful. The last thing we need is to come across a bunch of scared, panicky guys with guns. There's definitely potential for a bad situation to develop, and for a simple misunderstanding to lead to something far more serious. I've never liked guns, and the idea of my little brother wandering through a ruined city with a rifle is something I'd rather not contemplate.

  After a few minutes, with Bob and Henry having been inside the pharmacy for a while, I start to wonder whether I should go and join them. Bob told me to wait until I was given the all-clear, but I guess it's possible that they've simply forgotten about me. Just as I'm about to start tentatively making my way across the stre
et, however, I spot movement up ahead, and suddenly a girl climbs out of the pharmacy. She's looking back inside, as if she's making sure that Bob and Henry haven't seen her, and then she darts quickly along the sidewalk. She looks young, about my age, but she's stick-thin and she's wearing what appears to be some kind of old-fashioned night-dress; she also has the most strikingly white hair I think I've ever seen, and the lack of visible roots suggests it's real rather than dyed. She looks so strange, though, that it takes me a moment to be sure that I'm not imagining the whole thing.

  "Hey!" I call out as she gets closer.

  Looking up, she stares at me with an expression of wide-eyed horror, before turning and bolting along the street.

  "Hey!" I shout, running after her. I'm not exactly in great shape, but to my surprise I find that I can catch up to her fairly easily. A couple of seconds later, I reach out and grab the back of her dress just as we head around the next corner. She's so light on her feet, I'm able to pull her back toward me. At the last moment, she slips and lands hard on her back, letting out a gasp of pain. A collection of pill packets from the pharmacy spills out across the ground. For a moment, we stare at one another in silence.

  "Are you okay?" I say eventually, standing breathlessly over her.

  "Elizabeth!" shouts Henry from the next street. "Elizabeth! Where are you?"

  The girl starts to get up, with a panicked look in her eyes.

  "It's okay," I say. "We're here like you. We're just looking for things. We're not going to hurt you."

  Ignoring me, the girl starts gathering up the packets she dropped. Reaching down, I start helping her, and finally I hand her the rest of her stuff. She pauses for a moment before accepting them, and then she turns and starts running again. Although I want to go after her, I figure she's totally spooked by the sound of Henry calling after me; moments later, I hear footsteps nearby and I turn to find Henry running along the street, with the rifle in his hands, while Bob hurries a little way behind him.

  "Who was that?" Henry shouts, staring into the distance as the girl disappears around the next corner.

  "I don't know," I say, "but she came out of the pharmacy."

  "Impossible," he replies. "We swept that place. There was no-one in there."

  "Well she was in there," I tell him. "I watched her come out through the window a few minutes after you two went in."

  "Did she hurt you?" he asks, raising his rifle as if he's expecting someone to come back around the far corner.

  I shake my head.

  "We're not alone," Bob says as he reaches us. He's so out of breath, he has to lean against the wall for a moment. For someone who apparently wanted to make sure he was ready for the end of the world, he sure doesn't seem to have put a lot of effort into personal fitness. "Wherever that scrawny little thing came from, you can bet she wasn't alone. There'll be more of them, and now they know we're here. They'll start poking their noses around, you can count on that."

  "She wasn't dangerous," I point out. "She was just scared."

  "Scared people are always dangerous," Bob says. "They're the ones who panic and do dumb things without thinking. They're the ones who'll sneak up behind you when you're not looking and cut your throat. It's good that she's gone; the last thing we need is another mouth to feed. On the other hand, I don't like the idea that she might be going back to tell other people about our location. Did you see what she was carrying?"

  "Just some boxes of pills," I reply.

  "I figured," he says, sighing. "We need to protect our supplies much more carefully. There are going to be scavengers around, and some of them are gonna form into little gangs. From now on, someone's going to have to stay behind in the building at all times. We can't risk having someone going storming in there and stealing our supplies. We need round-the-clock surveillance and we need to make sure we're properly armed for any eventuality."

  "I don't think she was going to steal anything from us," I say.

  "You don't know that for sure," Bob replies, clearly puffed up on his own sense of self-importance. "Elizabeth. Henry. I believe we've just sighted our first potential enemy in this situation."

  Chapter Five

  Oklahoma

  A gunshot rings out, and the rabbit immediately bolts off into the distance as a cloud of soil is kicked up a few meters away.

  "I never said I was a crack shot," Joe says, lowering the rifle.

  "Can I try next time?" I ask.

  "I'm getting better," he says firmly. "Each time, I get closer. Wait and see."

  We walk on in silence for a moment. I'm not sure I really follow Joe's logic, but I don't have the energy to argue. I guess the law of averages means he's going to hit something eventually.

  "So Mom seems worried," I say after a while. "Do you -"

  "Let's just keep focused on what we're doing," he says firmly. "We're not out here to talk about Mom. We're out here to try to catch something to eat. Keep your mind on the job at hand."

  "Yeah, but -"

  "I'm serious!" he replies, raising his voice a little. "Let's just deal with problems as and when they arise, okay? She's just got a cold, that's all. It's probably stress. Nothing more sinister than that. She'll cough for a few days and then she'll be fine." We walk on a little further. "Besides," he continues after a while, "why should she get sick when we're both fine? Out of the three of us, she had the least contact with Lydia. I mean, you're the one who got exploded all over, aren't you?"

  "Maybe only certain people get it," I point out, "or maybe -"

  "I'm not kidding, Thomas," he says firmly. "I really don't think there's any point talking about this right now. She's gonna be fine, and if she's not, then she's not. Do you really think, out of all of us, she's the one who'd get sick? The woman washes her hands every ten seconds, and she barely went close to Lydia. If anyone was gonna get sick, it'd be me or you, so let's just focus, okay? I swear to God, you're a whiner sometimes." With that, he takes a right turn and marches away from me, as if to make doubly sure that I can't argue with him.

  "Fine," I mutter, making my way through the undergrowth. I should have known better than to think I might actually have a proper discussion with my brother; he's always preferred to run away from things when they get too much, with his grand strategy being to only come back once someone else has sorted out the problem. I hope he's right about our mother being okay, but I can't help thinking it's too much of a coincidence that she's getting ill right after Lydia turns up. If that's the -

  Suddenly I stop dead in my tracks. Staring straight ahead, I see a shape in the grass, and I immediately realize that it's a person, wearing what looks like a sheriff's uniform. Although I can't make out any details, I have no doubt at all that it's a dead body; as well as the flies buzzing in the area, there's also a pretty horrific smell.

  "Joe!" I shout, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the corpse. "Get over here!"

  "Keep your voice down!" he replies, hurrying toward me. "You're gonna scare off any -" He stops speaking as he reaches me and sees what I've found. "Fuck," he says quietly. I guess even my loud-mouthed brother can occasionally have the wind taken from his sails.

  "He's dead, right?" I say.

  "I hope so, for his sake," Joe replies as he moves around the body a little to get a better view. "Jesus Christ, he stinks."

  Edging a little closer, and covering my nose to reduce the smell, I see that the flesh of his left hand is a kind of dark gray color. I really don't want to see the rest of him.

  "Fuck, do you know who this is?" Joe says after a moment.

  "Who?"

  "It's Robert Haims," he replies. "You remember the cop we found the other day? Remember how you said he'd gone from his car when we drove back past, and I said you were talking out of your ass? You were fucking right, man. This is him. He must have crawled all the way out here. Fucking incredible." Breaking a branch from a nearby tree, Joe gets ready to prod the body.

  "Wait!" I say. "What are you doing?"

  "R
elax," he says, swatting some flies away from near his face. "The guy's clearly long gone."

  "If he's got the same thing Lydia had, he might burst," I say. "She only exploded when I poked her."

  Dropping the branch, Joe takes a step back. "Well that's the last thing we want, isn't it? Some damn cop blowing his guts all over us."

  Staring at the body, I watch as flies crawl all over the fabric of his police uniform.

  "How do you think he got here?" I ask eventually. "There's no way he could have crawled here, right?"

  "Reckon there is," he replies. "If he kept going all day and all night, until finally he just dropped dead where he fell, I suppose he could've made it this far. Doesn't seem like there's any great mystery about it."

  We stand in silence for a moment. It's hard to believe that this guy could have crawled so far into the forest, especially when he seemed so sick when we saw him by the side of the road three days ago. Then again, if he was trying to get help, I suppose he might have found the strength from somewhere. But there's nothing out here, not for miles around.

  "That must've been a horrible way to die," I say eventually.

  "Yeah, well..." Joe pauses for a moment, before turning to walk away. "He was a cop. Come on. There's nothing for us to do here."

  Following Joe, I can't help glancing back at the body. Something about this whole situation just feels a little wrong. If Robert Haims wanted to get help, why would he have crawled away from the road and deep into the forest? He was a local guy, so he must have known that there was nothing here. I guess he must have just been delirious; otherwise, there's no reason why he'd have crawled so far through the undergrowth, when the only thing for miles around here is our farm, and there's no reason for him to make his way out toward us. Something about this whole thing doesn't quite make sense yet.

  Chapter Six