by Adrian Smith
Finding nothing, she checked the rest of her body, running her hands along her arms and legs, feeling her ribs and the back of her neck. Had she pinched a nerve? She rolled her neck in a circular motion first, then side to side. Gingerly, she stood up. What had caused that intense pain? And the screaming?
Allie flung open her door and looked down the hallway. Her room was at the end of a long row of identical rooms that stretched to her right. A beautiful Japanese Zen garden was to her left.
Allie called out to Antonio, an Argentinian guy with the bluest eyes she had ever seen, who occupied the closest sleeping cell. No words had been spoken between them after induction, but she’d seen the way he looked at her. It was all there. When she had first seen it, she laughed to herself. Antonio was at least fourteen years younger than her. She had brushed it off as harmless flirting and concentrated on her meditation. On recharging and refocusing. The last thing she wanted was an awkward tryst.
Using her foot, she slid the door across. “Antonio?” she called again. A groan came from the pile of blankets on the floor. In his agony, he had bundled the blanket and futon into a lump, cocooning himself inside with only a foot poking out.
Antonio groaned again, louder this time.
“You okay?” Allie said.
Antonio muttered something. First his arms popped out, then his head. He blinked at her a few times before clutching his face.
“Ugh. My head feels like after a party. A week-long party.”
“Mine too.”
“You have a headache?”
“Bad one. Need a hand getting up?”
Antonio pulled himself clear of the blanket bundle and shook his head. He groaned, wincing as he sat in the only chair.
“Your voice is just as beautiful as you.”
Allie smiled and turned away to look behind her. Groans came from farther down the hallway, and a weird gurgling noise sounded from the main meditation room.
“What do you think happened?” she asked, her eyes flicking around as she looked for a weapon.
It was an instinct born of being an Air Force brat. Whatever had happened, it was wrong. Really wrong. If it had just been her affected, she would have put it down to some medical condition. But Antonio had suffered the same. She strained her ears, listening, hoping to hear birdsong or dogs barking. An eerie silence had descended, broken only by anguished moans.
Earlier that morning, a few of the participants had been whispering together with their heads bowed. A monk had admonished them, quickly breaking up the conversations. The women had left and hadn’t returned for meditation tuition. Now she was beginning to wonder why.
“Wait. You have a headache too?” Antonio said. “The pain?”
“Yes. I felt like a boxing match took place inside my head.”
“I was wondering why we were suddenly talking. I… I…” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I was scared. Really scared. When I was a teenager, I went water-skiing with some friends. We spent the day showing off to the girls and having a good time. Laughing, shouting. My friend Gabriel complained of a bad headache. We laughed and said it was too much sun, too much booze. He was sick moments later and passed out. We rushed him to the hospital, but he later died.” Antonio tapped his temple with his forefinger. “Aneurysm. Poof. I thought that was happening to me. I prayed to God that I lived a while longer.” He made the sign of the cross.
Allie cocked her head to one side, concentrating on the strange gurgling sound coming from the meditation hall. It reminded her of an animal lapping up water.
“Exactly what I thought. If you felt it too, maybe everyone did. Can you hear that?”
Antonio padded over to the door and stood listening. “The groans?”
“That too. But the gurgling sounds. Like a dog having a drink.”
He nodded. “What’s going on?”
“That’s what I intend to find out. First, I’m going to get my phone from the lockers.”
Allie didn’t wait for an answer, or to see if Antonio followed. She trusted her abilities. Trusted her martial arts training. Part of the reason she had chosen this monastery was because the monks also trained in a form of karate. She loved martial arts and was always keen to broaden her knowledge and techniques.
The dōjō was on the far side of the property and had weapons. As she passed the next sleeping cell, she rapped lightly on the thin door. Hearing nothing, she slid it open and sucked in a breath. Lying prone on the floor, hands and arms outstretched toward the door, was the shape of a human. Instead of flesh and bones, it was a gray ash-like substance. The remains had a weird chemical smell, like burnt rubber mixed with mud. She said a silent apology and prodded the corpse. Where she touched, it crumbled away into a fine dust, some of the particles hanging in the air.
“What is that?” Antonio whispered. “Is that Louisa?”
Allie backed out of the room. “Was.”
“She’s dead? How?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
The groans had stopped, and Allie didn’t venture into any more rooms. Ahead was the communal kitchen and bathroom. The shared bathroom had been awkward at first. It was an open, tiled area with shower heads. No doors, no screens. Just a hook to put your towel on. She had balked at first, then shrugged her shoulders. During some of her training, she’d had to disregard her modesty. Ten years of civilian life had softened her.
In the kitchen, the same burnt-rubber smell lingered. She hesitated and lightened her step, fearing what she would see. Lying next to the benches were more corpses, frozen in agonizing poses. The swollen, bloated corpse of a man was bent half forward on the floor. His skin was ivory colored and crisscrossed with red lines. Clumps of hair hung from his head.
Allie reached across and slipped a knife free from the large block on the bench. It looked like a short samurai sword. Sushi chefs used them for cutting thin slices from tuna. The bloated man wheezed, sniffed, and sat up.
Allie jumped back a couple of steps and held the knife ready in front of her. The man turned his head. It was covered in more red lines, like he’d fallen asleep on hot mesh. His eyes snapped open. They had no pupils or irises, only the white.
Allie took another step back as the bloated man snarled, gobs of saliva dripping from his teeth.
“Hey. Are you okay?” Allie said.
He grunted and gnashed his jaw.
“What’s wrong with him?” Antonio said.
“I think he’s sick.” She kept her eyes on the man. “Are you okay?” she asked again.
With a burst of speed, he leapt at her, hands locked into claws. Allie barely had enough time to react before he was there, roaring and spitting. She was still shocked by the pain, and now the sick man was attacking her. His focus was on her throat as he swung his arms violently from side to side, trying to break past her defenses.
Allie ducked under one arm and slashed up with the long knife. It had been sharpened to cut through fish, and now sliced through his flesh like it was paper.
The man managed to grab the back of her neck with his left hand, gripping it like a vise, crushing with surprising strength. Digging his nails in.
“Antonio!” Allie shouted. Her eyes searching for the Argentinian. He stood in the doorway, mouth gaping.
She screamed in frustration. The man pulled her closer to his gnashing teeth.
“Antonio!” she shouted again, louder this time. “Do something!”
Her cries snapped him out of his trance, and Antonio rushed into the room. He grabbed an iron skillet and smashed it over the man’s head. He shook it off like the blow was an annoying insect.
“What are you waiting for? Hit him again!”
Whack! Whack! Whack!
Three more brutal blows, and the man released his grip on her neck and staggered back. Allie pounced on the extra room and thrust the knife into his throat. Dark red blood flowed out, coating his hairless chest and enlarged stomach in seconds. He took two more steps backward and fell
onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
Antonio dropped the skillet with a clang as Allie pushed him to the door. She spun at the hissing sound emanating from the man, like deflating bicycle tires. It deepened in tone before rising to a screech. His bloated stomach rumbled once before exploding. Flesh, tissue, and intestines erupted, painting the surrounding surfaces.
Allie flinched and shielded her face with her arm. Antonio was doubled over, retching at the sight of the man’s exposed ribs and insides.
Nothing could prepare a person for that. At first one stared out of morbid curiosity. Then one’s stomach clenched, more from the stench than from what one was processing.
She took Antonio’s quivering hand and squeezed it. They stared at each other for what could have been hours. Allie didn’t know what to do next. She was used to being in control. Now she wasn’t. First the pain, then the mound of frozen ash that used to be Louisa, and now a bloated man had attacked them before exploding. For the first time ever, she was at a loss.
Antonio bolted up and yanked his hand free. “Anyone! Help!”
She let him go, needing the time to calm her racing mind and figure out her next move.
Seventeen
Koyasan, Japan
Allie’s first thought was to chase after the fleeing Antonio. If there were more people like the bloated man who had gone berserk, then it was best to remain quiet and go undetected until they knew what they were dealing with. She looked down at her arm and hands, covered in the man’s blood. She had used her arm to block his flesh when his stomach exploded. Her second thought screamed at her: Virus!
She quickly moved over to the sink and washed off the flecks of intestines and tissue. She scrubbed the blood and pieces of bone off herself. Lastly, using the disinfectant, she washed her hands and the long knife. She prayed she had shut her eyes and mouth when the man exploded.
Did I? She must have, as there was no taste of blood in her mouth.
The stench of his flesh still hung in the air. Allie shivered. She had flown into many disease-ravaged countries but had never seen a pathogen that could do that to a person. Or, remembering Louisa, turn them to ash.
Antonio’s shouting rang out as he ran through the monastery. Again, she thought to catch up to him but, seeing the blood that coated her robes, she opted for a change of clothes instead.
Allie smoothed down her fleece jacket and jammed a few supplies into her rucksack. During her stay in Japan, she had enjoyed exploring the trails on the mountain and the surrounding countryside. With all the Shinto and Buddhist temples, there were tracks leading in all directions. She double-checked she had her passport and headed down the hallway, her bare feet padding on the floorboards like thousands had over the last three hundred years. Allie ignored the closed doors of the sleeping cells and headed to the main reception. The monk who normally manned reception was still in his chair, except that instead of being a fleshy human, his corpse now resembled a raisin, like a vampire had sucked all his blood out. Careful to avoid his remains, she lifted her locker key from the board behind him and turned on her phone. She stared at it blankly for a few minutes, waiting for a signal. She moved outside into the Zen garden and walked around holding the phone up. After ten minutes, she gave up and slid the phone into her pocket.
Antonio had, to her relief, finished yelling for help. He spotted her and strolled over, shrugging his shoulders. “No one. I can’t find anyone. Here or next door.” He shrugged again.
“What did you see?”
“Nothing. Just more people like Louisa. What do you think happened to that berserker?”
“I wish I knew. Maybe a virus?”
Antonio hit his forehead with his palm. “What am I doing? I need to call home.”
“It’s no use. I tried. No signal,” Allie said, holding up her phone. Antonio ignored her and hurried to the lockers. He yanked on the door.
“Key.” Allie pointed. She didn’t blame him for panicking. The whole situation was surreal. She put her calmness down to the fact that she had flown through heavy enemy fire, through wild storms to deliver essential supplies, and landed on runways in gale-force crosswinds. Staying calm was essential for being a pilot.
Allie looked over her shoulder. Antonio had gone quiet. He was looking at his phone with tears in his eyes. He held up his screen. On it was a photo of a blonde woman and a smiling girl.
“Your wife and child?”
“My daughter, yes. She is staying with my sister. They sent me this yesterday.” Antonio wiped his tears with his sleeve and sniffed. “Do you think they’re okay?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know. We don’t know if this is local or if it’s all of Japan. Normally pathogens take days, weeks, even months to spread. We need to find a TV or a radio. Find a news channel and figure it out.”
“There’s one in the meditation hall,” Antonio said, his voice cracking. He was still gazing at the photograph. “Or we could use the radio app on my phone.”
“Radio app?”
“Yeah. Waldo.” He spent a few moments scrolling before turning his screen around to show her. A map of Japan flashed back at her. A red blip animation showed where they were. He pressed the locate button and the app began scrolling through the bandwidths. Station after station was static. A few played J-pop songs with pauses of silence until more played.
“Change to AM,” Allie said.
He complied, and they listened intently. A quivering female voice echoed out, speaking in rapid Japanese. Allie’s heart leapt at the sound. Even though she couldn’t understand all the words, she caught their meaning. The emotion was laced in the words. Fear and confusion.
Antonio shut off the app. “What should we do?”
Allie glanced over at the shriveled monk and scanned the empty monastery. A couple of hours ago, it had been filled with people. “In times of unrest or emergencies, it’s best to head to the nearest shelter. If that fails and if you’re in a foreign country, you head to your embassy. Which is in Tokyo. But first I want to check out the TV.”
Allie turned toward the meditation hall. She looked at Antonio. “Get changed, pack your passport and a few essentials. Pack light though, no suitcase.”
“Okay, but how are we going to get all the way to Tokyo?”
“We’ll figure it out.”
Allie waited at Antonio’s door, gripping the long knife. The slurping sounds again taunted her, asking her to investigate.
Antonio reappeared, zipping up his jacket. “Where to first?”
“Meditation hall. See if we can glean any information from the TV.”
Surrounding the meditation hall was a moat filled with koi and goldfish. Statues of Buddha were draped in brightly colored robes, and moss-covered rocks sat in the center of carefully raked stones set in circular patterns.
Allie held up her hand, stopping Antonio as a shrieking sound invaded the peaceful garden. It rose in volume. Allie craned her head, desperate to find the source. Antonio bumped into her and pointed above the tree line. An airplane screamed out of clouds toward them as the shrieking went up several decibels. Allie noted its trajectory and froze. It flew so low she glimpsed the registration number.
The plane whooshed over the monastery before slamming into the thickly forested peaks behind them. The boom of the subsequent explosion reverberated around the mountains. Angry red and orange flames shot out, enveloping the pines and firs, incinerating them.
“Allie!” Antonio shouted above the rolling thunder of the fuel tanks erupting. She spun at his shout.
A monk had crashed through the meditation hall entrance sliding door and tumbled down the stairs. His head was hairless, his skin like ivory and covered in fine red crosses. More monks and two students burst through the hole in the sliding door. They too looked and behaved like the bloated man.
Allie risked a glance over her shoulder toward the dōjō as she hefted the long knife, adjusting her grip.
“Go!” Allie pivoted and sprinted after the
Argentinian. She leapt over the moat and jumped over boulders. She ran fast, legs pumping, down the worn hallways and through the foyer. The berserkers screamed and gave chase. There were seven. Two were a good thirty meters ahead of the pack and gaining fast. All slammed their fists into their heads as they ran. Allie struggled to accept what she was seeing. Monks and students who had once been normal humans were now hellbent on catching them. Why were she and Antonio normal? It didn’t make any sense, but what of the last thirty minutes did?
Antonio slipped on the paving stones and tumbled. His body went one way while his foot and leg caught on a raised piece of flagstone, twisting it. Antonio clutched his ankle, gasping in pain, and tried to stand. A piece of bone was sticking out the side of his leg.
Allie skidded to a stop and hauled him up. “Keep moving. C’mon.”
He shook his head and looked at the advancing berserkers. “I’ll never make it. Go.”
“No way! Come on, I’ll carry you.”
Allie pulled on his arm and they hobbled together a couple of meters. The berserker behind them shrieked, gaining fast.
“Grab something to fight with and get behind me,” Allie said. She adjusted her grip on the long knife and planted her feet, ready.
The first berserker charged. Allie sidestepped and plunged the blade into his stomach. He crashed to the ground, blood gushing from the wound. She didn’t have time to check if he was dead, as the next berserker had reached her. Pudgy hands tried to grab her neck and strangle her. She ducked and, using the knife like a sword, chopped off his hands. He howled and smashed the bloody stumps against his head, spraying claret everywhere.
Allie grabbed a thick walking pole from the umbrella stand and handed it to Antonio. “Get into one of those cars and lock the doors. I’ll hold them off.”
She pivoted, not waiting for his answer. She was trained for this. Had sworn oaths. Protect and help those who can’t.
The chasing pack were on her in moments. Allie swung the knife, cutting flesh and bone left and right. She kicked and dodged, under arms and legs. Strong, vise-like hands grabbed her from behind. Allie screamed and drove her head back. The berserkers weren’t fighting her, she realized. They were focused on grabbing her neck.