Apocalypsis Immortuos | Book 1 | Syndrome

by de Hoogh, Marco

  Within a few minutes, their new destination was determined, and the bus changed course. There would be no more evacuations today.

  There would be no more evacuations, period.

  Chapter Two

  Emily

  The sun was starting to get low in the sky, and shadows were lengthening as the school bus pulled into ‘Stone Meadow’. Stone Meadow was a gated community on the south-western end of the city. Thankfully, the only dead that were seen after entering the community were permanently dead. A few corpses were spotted here and there, on the sidewalks, driveways, and on the manicured lawns of high-end houses.

  “That’s it, up ahead.” Garcia alerted Emily, as the houses on their right ended.

  A chain link fence separated the houses from a set of fields. About another block down the road, they could see a driveway entrance. At the end of that driveway stood a building.

  Looks like ... a school?

  Emily spotted sentries in pairs on both sides of the driveway as the bus took the turn. A gate slid across the driveway behind them, as they entered the school grounds.

  The driveway ended in a road circle, which in turn had an accessway to a parking lot on the left, next to a blocky portion of the building that Emily figured to be the gymnasium. The school entrance loomed up some concrete steps, straight ahead.

  A soldier was standing there, and waved Emily towards the parking lot.

  The parking lot already contained several army vehicles, including three army trucks, two Humvees, two of the light tactical vehicles, and one of the heavier armored vehicles. She saw that this last vehicle even had one of those Mk 19 grenade launchers mounted on it.

  Could have used one of those earlier today. Emily thought as she pulled further into the lot.

  The parking lot also contained several square tanks of potable water, a few other pallets laden with boxes, and a twenty-foot shipping container, or ‘sea can’. These were sitting at the far edge of the parking lot. Soldiers hustled between the school and the parking lot like ants, carrying boxes inside.

  Emily parked the bus somewhat haphazardly but out of the way, and for the first time in several hours, shut off the ignition. The silence was almost overwhelming. Nobody stirred for several moments. The occupants of the bus were momentarily lost in their own thoughts, trying to process the events of the day.

  Three soldiers walked up to the bus, and Emily opened the door.

  Garcia was out first and after a brief muffled discussion, the men proceeded into the bus.

  “Please stay seated folks.” One of the new soldiers said. The stripes on his arm identifying him as a sergeant. He motioned to the two men with him, and both he and Garcia stepped into benches to clear the aisle. The two soldiers picked up Durant’s body, and made their way back to the front and off the bus.

  Emily had a good look at Durant’s injuries as his body was carried past her. She could see massive lacerations on his neck, and he was soaked in his own blood. Durant’s corpse bore bite marks. His right cheek had been partially torn away, the skin and meat flopping by an attached string of muscle and revealing his jaw and teeth. One particularly deep gash in his neck had severed the carotid artery and the young man had bled out within a minute.

  Seeing the dead man reminded Emily of Peters, and she recalled the image of the young sergeant’s eyes bulging and rolling up as he collapsed to the ground.

  Brown assisted the injured Moyers out next, and they were quickly directed to a medic. It looked like Moyers had a twisted ankle, which wasn’t too serious. But he had also suffered a wrist injury and that looked a lot worse. It was swollen and already turning an ugly purple colour. The gash on his face was covered with a field dressing. From what Emily recalled, he’d likely need some stitches for that.

  “You better go see the C.O.” Emily craned her neck at the voice. It was the sergeant. He motioned for Garcia to head to a small tent set up near the fence. Garcia nodded and stepped to the front of the bus. As he got to the bus door. He hesitated a moment, turned and faced Emily.

  “Hey. ... That was some good driving back there. I know Mark was impressed.”

  Emily looked up at Garcia quizzically.

  “Peters. Mark Peters. He was never a guy that would come out and praise others. But I know he appreciated how you handled this vehicle.” Garcia ran out of things to say. He gave Emily a half-hearted smile.

  “Maybe you got a future as a bus driver or something.”

  Emily smiled at that. “Actually, driving a bus was my day-job.”

  Garcia’s eyes widened for a moment in surprise. “No shit?! Hehe.” With a small shake of his head he walked away.

  Emily turned in her seat as the new sergeant spoke up again at that point.

  “Ok folks, please gather up your belongings and move in a single file towards the school entrance. Just follow me.” He turned and led the way.

  Collins moved first. He exited the bus and stood off to the side, as folks started making their way towards the exit. Emily still had not moved from the drivers’ seat and got a good look at the people as they filed past her.

  Maria, the young Hispanic girl, was the first civilian to get off the bus. She had a pronounced limp but declined assistance with a stoic expression when somebody asked her if she needed help. She took the next few steps attempting to hide her limp.

  Full of pride, that one.

  The young woman that had identified herself as a nurse came next. Her hands and the front of her trousers were covered in Durant’s blood. Her eyes met Emily’s for a moment. Emily felt caught in those eyes for a brief moment. They were dark and slanted, yet surprisingly large. She smiled half-heartedly, almost as if she were apologizing for not being able to save the soldier. The moment passed quickly, as the woman blinked and moved on.

  What is she? Persian or maybe Asian. Emily mused as she watched the nurse take the first step down to exit the bus. She certainly had expressive eyes.

  Her view of the retreating nurse was blocked by the elderly couple, as they walked past Emily next, assisting the catatonic Claire. The old man nodded to Emily in passing, and she noted that he stopped outside the bus to shake Collins’ hand and say a few words. Collins’ face was stoic as the old man spoke, but he let his head drop as soon as the old man had turned away to follow his wife and Claire.

  A family of three followed next, followed closely by another couple. The family consisted of a middle-aged man and woman, and their son, who looked to be in his late teens. The father, a tall, lanky man, nodded at Emily as they made their way past.

  “Good driving, Emily. Thank you.” He said. Emily responded with a small smile.

  The second couple looked a little younger. Late thirties, Emily guessed.

  The man sure stood out with his solid build and prosthetic hand. This little group had an air of familiarity with each other, and Emily suspected they all knew each other. The younger couple also mumbled their gratitude to Emily as they passed by.

  The Collins family came next. Two adults and their kids; a daughter and a son. Emily noted that they all maintained physical contact with each other. They were all holding on to a family member in front or behind. They clumped together as they exited the bus and stepped into the parking lot, clutching at each other with a mixture of shock, fear, and fanaticism.

  Emily got the distinct impression that these folks feared that the wind would pick up and carry away their loved ones if they failed to hold on to each other.

  The final four people to exit the bus were all younger adults. Emily guessed that they were all between twenty and thirty years old.

  First came the rich couple. Emily could see that they were well off. It was apparent from the clothes they wore. Never mind the fact that they had been picked up at what only could be described as a mansion. The husband looked unsure of what to do with himself. His face continuously showed his struggle, switching between a smile and a grimace as he looked at Emily in passing. The wife was what most men would consid
er stunningly beautiful, Emily figured. She was slender yet shapely, with gorgeous wavy dark hair and captivating large eyes. Those eyes were mostly downcast at the moment – focused on the hand of her husband as she was pulled along to the exit.

  A slender young woman came next. She was hard to describe.

  Sporty Spice. Emily recalled, referencing the British pop star from her youth. That character always wore a track suit too. A fit bird.

  Emily never considered herself as fit. Emily possessed neither height nor shape. Good old British upbringing and genes. She was short and stocky. And with her mother’s genes, she was likely to get stockier as she got older.

  Destined to have my arse explode. She thought as she watched the girl in the track suit exit the bus and follow the crowd towards the school. On any other day I’d hate these bitches.

  The Asian man walked up last. His face rather expressionless. Emily watched as his eyes continued to scan the surroundings as if looking for threats. The deep red color of blood stained the bandage on his forearm. The man also sported a smaller scratch on his chest, visible through the torn t-shirt he was still wearing. He seemed unaware of his injuries.

  “You should get that looked at.” Emily suggested.

  The man looked at Emily for a moment, as if deciphering what she was saying. Emily pointed to his arm, and he glanced down at the injury as if noticing it for the first time. He stared at it for half a second. Emily guessed that he was remembering the incident that caused the injury.

  “Yeah. ... I will. ... Thanks.” He added with an embarrassed smile. His smile wavered quickly, however.

  “I’ll be ok.” With that, he made his way off the bus.

  Emily slowly got out of her seat and with a big sigh she stepped out of the bus. Collins was still standing at the door and looked at her as she stood in front of him and stretched her back.

  “I feel like I ran a marathon, mate” Emily said as she worked a kink out.

  “Yeah. Me too.” Collins replied.

  Emily finished her stretch and faced the soldier. “Hey. ... Sorry about Peters and Durant...”

  Collins shrugged. “Thanks. Brown said it best though. He told me that they did what they had to do. How’s that for the raw truth?” Collins was silent for a moment as he pondered.

  “Strange man, that Brown. But one hell of a soldier. He saved my ass back there...”

  Emily could see the skinny man struggle for a moment, then clench his jaw as he steeled himself. “Anyway, I didn’t really know them very well. Garcia will be hurting though. He went way back with Peters.”

  Collins grimaced slightly, his hand shooting to his gut. Emily pretended not to see.

  They were both silent for a moment before Collins spoke up again.

  “Huh. Isn’t this all a bag of dicks. ... Um. ... I mean, this is all fucked up.” He continued. Emily nodded again.

  “Yes. It is. A big old bag of dicks.” She held out a hand to Collins. “Thanks.”

  He shook her hand and smiled for only the second time since they had met. It made Emily think of the first time.

  The first time was shortly after they had been introduced. Four days ago, now.

  There had been a call for volunteers six days ago. They needed people with military background and drivers. Emily was both of those, so she volunteered. Her new gig as a bus driver for city transit had been cut short by the apocalypse anyway.

  In short order she was officially recruited into the 6th brigade of the 95th Infantry division of the United States Army Reserves. Five days ago, she arrived at the safe zone to report for duty. Her skillsets were quickly assessed, and she was subsequently handed the keys to a school bus and assigned to a unit.

  She remembered that she had been assigned to bus #2658. She walked around trying to locate the bus for a while. There must have been close to fifty busses in the lot across from the safe zone. She finally found the bus and met her new squad – and Collins.

  Only a couple of the other guys had been in that squad. Durant and Brown. Peters, Garcia and Moyers came later, as soldiers got reassigned. Eventually the mix of soldiers from various units, national guardsmen, reserves, and the newly drafted Emily grouped together into the squad they had today.

  Collins was a bold young man, maybe because he wasn’t the best-looking guy. Emily remembered walking up to the sergeant of that squad.

  Murphy. That was his name. I think. ... Fuck. Why can’t I remember? It was only a few days ago! Emily berated herself.

  “Private Hill reporting for duty, sir.” Murphy just nodded and asked if she was the driver. Collins had sauntered over to get a closer look.

  “Aye sir.”

  “Hey soldier. Nice accent you got there. You must be from... No wait, let me guess; New Jersey?” He had said, flashing his most winning smile. The joke fell somewhat flat. That didn’t deter Collins though. He proceeded to attempt all kinds of small talk over the next 24 hours as he tried to work his charm on Emily. He failed. But Emily did have to admit that he had a nice smile.

  By the next day they had had their first run-in with undead. All romantic notions went out the window after that.

  Emily snapped back to the present. She turned away from Collins and walked towards the school. She noted the big sign above the entrance:

  Renaissance School for Gifted Children.

  ‘The Ren’ was written in even larger letters underneath.

  A slightly bemused look flashed across Emily’s face as she walked up to the front portal and looked down from the sign into the interior of the school.

  A few years ago, she had walked out of a school just like this.

  No. Exactly like this! Except in good ol’ England of course.

  Emily had walked out of one life, to start another. Now her journey, from boot camp, to a tour of duty, to learning to stand on her own two feet, to failing to stand on her own two feet, to calling in a favor, which landed her a job driving a bus here in America.

  Oh, and to the world going balls up less than three weeks later.

  To this.

  To stand at the doorway of a school that looked eerily similar to Houndsworth College of Excellence.

  Huh... How about that for coming full circle. She thought to herself as she passed the threshold.

  Chapter Three

  Jack

  The Renaissance School for Gifted Children had a familiar layout. Offices on the right as you walk in, and a lunchroom to the left. A hall leading to some stairs straight ahead and a hall behind the office presumably leading to some classrooms or offices, and the gym at the end of that hall.

  This lunchroom was a bit different though. The front half of it contained about fifteen tables with benches, set up in a semi-circular arrangement. A small, low stage was located against what would be the front wall, with another semi circle of benches facing it. It was handily located as a focal point. The back half of the lunchroom contained some buffet counters, with the kitchen located at the very back.

  Everybody had been asked to take a seat, including Jack. He had taken his seat and was watching the entryway to the cafeteria in anticipation. Jack started looking around when there was still no movement after a couple of minutes. The bus ride had been so surreal that he hardly paid attention to the other passengers. He got a better look, now that they all were assembled in the lunchroom.

  At his table sat his dad and mom, and their friends from down the street – the Millers.

  John and Melissa Miller both had a military background, and their quiet confidence and sure actions had helped Jack and his parents keep their cool. John’s prosthetic, which consisted of a wrist and a hand with fully articulated fingers was really cool. State-of-the-art stuff.

  The Collins family was huddled together at the next table. Jack recognized their son from High School. He thought the kid’s name was Evan or Ethan or something. Popular kid. Played football and basketball. Jack was never quite as popular, focusing more on academics and not really enjoying the whol
e high school social circus. The Collins mom and dad looked a bit older than Jack’s. They also had a daughter, who looked to be a couple years older than Jack. She was slender yet shapely, with a pretty face. The one thing they all had in common was fear. It was evident on their faces. They flinched at every noise and looked around furtively.

  The older couple sat at the next table with the hysterical lady. Well, she wasn’t really hysterical anymore. More like catatonic. Jack felt sorry for her. The nurse from the bus was sitting with them too. She was covered in that soldier’s blood...

  Ern.

  Right. That was the old man’s name. He was the one that had acted like everything was fine, back on the bus. Jack could tell that he was just as scared as the rest though. False bravado, they call that.

  The rich couple sat at a table behind them. The husband was average looking and easily ignored. His wife though...

  Man, she is hot!

  Jack’s eyes traveled across her features. Her clothes fit her tightly in all the right places.

  So that’s what they call a trophy wife. Jack figured as he checked her out.

  The Hispanic girl: Maria, sat at the same table. Jack had seen the rich woman trying to talk to Maria. The young girl did not show interest in talking, so that ended awkwardly.

  The Chinese guy with the hammers was the only one not sitting.

  This dude is a fucking rebel.

  He stood off to the side, with his feet slightly apart and his weight on the balls of his feet. Jack thought he looked ready to kick some more ass. He caught Jack looking at him and their eyes locked for a moment. It was very intimidating. This guy’s expression was as if it was made of stone, revealing no emotion. After a couple of seconds, he unexpectedly winked, and Jack quickly looked away.

  This guy is bad ass!

  Well away from everybody sat the young woman in the track suit. She drank from her water bottle in small, quick sips. She looked more annoyed than scared. Jack studied her features for a couple of seconds.