The Veil

by Torstein Beck

  He must have slipped unconscious for a while because when he opened his eyes, Sorina was kneeling over him, wiping the blood from his face with a swab. He tried to speak but his mouth was dry and sore. He tried to swallow but that was futile too.

  She made no attempt to speak to him. He didn’t know what was wrong. Was she hurt? She looked okay. She was one of the only ones that was unharmed. There wasn’t a mark on her. His brain couldn’t make sense of it. His left eye had swollen shut now but he cast a quick glance at his right hand with his other. It had swollen up too, around the middle knuckle. It was definitely broken. He couldn’t even make a fist.

  He bleated in pain as Sorina wiped his face off and tears streamed from his eyes as she roughly reset his nose. She didn’t seem to care that she was hurting him. The pain was unbearable and he once more slipped unconscious.

  When he awoke for the second time, his head was bandaged, as was his hand. He tried to sit up but found it harder than he remembered.

  ‘Sorina…’ he said weakly, looking around. The trailer was dark and they seemed to be moving already. ‘Sorina,’ he mumbled again.

  ‘Stay down,’ she replied, pushing him backwards. He was on his cot. She must have hauled him there.

  ‘What’s going on, where are we?’ he said quietly.

  ‘We’re heading south. After I laid you down, I went back to the Fido, brought Robin and Alva back. They switched over what was left of the fuel and ammunition and we set off as quickly as we could.’

  ‘Where are we?’ he asked, tilting his head towards the screen. It was black. The whole trailer was dark. The only sound was the rattling of the metal and the roar of the engine somewhere in front of them.

  She shrugged, no more than an outline in the dark, the only source of illumination coming from a dim red light under the roof hatch, showing the way to the emergency exit. ‘Dunno. Somewhere outside of Murmansk.’ She sighed and rubbed her head. ‘We’ve been driving for around an hour.’

  ‘You saved us.’ He smiled as best his face would allow, reaching out for her hand.

  She pulled it away.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he said, concerned suddenly.

  ‘It’s… I… I just don’t…’ she trailed off.

  ‘You don’t what?’

  ‘I just don’t feel the same, okay.’ She said it almost abruptly.

  ‘What are you talking about? Sorina? I love you…’ he blurted out.

  ‘Don’t say that,’ she muttered, twisting her face into an ugly grimace.

  ‘But it’s true.’

  ‘It’s different now.’ She turned away and folded her arms. She was sat on his bedside but she was a million miles away.

  ‘No it’s not. Everything will be fine.’ Aaro winced, trying to sit up again. He failed. ‘We’ll get back and we’ll explain what happened.’

  ‘How you murdered five people in cold blood?’ she spat.

  ‘'I did that for us!’ Aaro coughed, a streak of pain shooting through his body.

  ‘No, you did it for you. I didn’t ask you to kill anyone. You’re not who I thought you were,’ she said coldly.

  ‘Sorina…’ he practically whimpered. ‘Please, you have to understand… If I hadn’t, they would have killed us.’

  ‘I don’t care. If that’s what was meant to happen, then it would have. But there was no guarantee that it was going to. You killed them on a hunch… On a suspicion. You’re worse than they are.’

  ‘They shot Sabina. Killed Sam.’

  ‘You don’t know what happened.’

  ‘I know that—”

  ‘I don’t care, Aaro,’ she said, an unmistakable sadness in her voice. ‘I’m done. With this. With you. I just don’t care anymore.’

  That cut deep.

  ‘It was us or them,’ Aaro said slowly.

  ‘Self-preservation?’ she huffed.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Wasn’t that their reason, too? Huh? What’s the difference? They thought we should die, you thought they should. You made that decision. You killed them. You’re a murderer and I… I feel sick.’ She looked at him, her eyes filled with revulsion.

  Aaro was at a loss for words. His jaw moved slowly but no sound escaped his lips.

  ‘See, you can’t even deny it. And don’t even try,’ she said, driving another stake into his heart.

  ‘You’re upset…’

  ‘I’m not upset. I’m disgusted. I wanted to leave you there. Roll you out of the truck and let you die. Robin and Alva convinced me otherwise. You should thank them. They’re the only reason you’re still alive.’

  She didn’t look at him as she stood and walked away.

  She sat on her bed opposite and stared at the wall, pulling her knees into her chest again.

  On the cot next to him, Sabina slept, groaning in her sleep.

  Aaro did nothing. He said nothing. He lay there in silence, feeling his cheeks wet in the darkness.

  He’d lost her.

  He’d lost everything.

  FORTY

  THE BEGINNING

  2108 AD

  The days following were hard. Aaro grappled with the idea of Lila being just that and nothing more — an idea.

  He’d woken in a makeshift hospital bed set up in a tent somewhere in Oslo, surrounded by dying and recovering patients who’d tangled with the Varas or other survivors and lived to tell about it. Groans and cries of pain filled the nights.

  He couldn’t get out fast enough.

  He’d spent three days laid up before he’d checked himself out. They were glad of the free bed.

  Refugee camps filled the streets on the outskirts, offering cots to those who managed to make it into the safety of the walls surrounding the city.

  Aaro bounced around from place to place, slipping through the cracks and finding a bed wherever he could. After three weeks, the walls still ablaze with fire, and the shrieks of the monsters beyond still echoed through the darkened obelisks that had once formed the skyline of Oslo. They cut through smoke riddled clouds that swirled overhead like daggers.

  Aaro couldn’t sleep normally. He didn’t know how anyone could in the constant crying and gunfire. He had to wait until he was so exhausted that sleep came for him.

  He took to drinking. Every bar was full to capacity at all hours of the day as the landlords bled the patrons dry of every penny they had left in exchange for some sort of numbness.

  It was mid-afternoon as Aaro pushed a lonely peanut around a sticky bartop with his finger, toying with the idea of spending the last of the emergency money they’d given him when he arrived on another beer. Shushes echoed through the room as the landlord quietened the crowd. He turned the television to full volume and the President of the United States took a stage in front of an American flag and seal.

  There was no sound from the crowd as he began speaking, safe in some remote underground military bunker, where he’d ride out the shit-storm in perfect safety and comfort.

  ‘My fellow Americans. Citizens of the world,’ he began, sighing and swallowing. He looked drawn. ‘Dark times have fallen. Today, we lost contact with the nation’s capital. The last refuges within the city were overrun or abandoned. We have officially entered into an era of silence. No Communications are coming out of any of the major cities in the US, now. We were too late. Too slow to act. Too proud to realise the grave nature of this threat. But, we have hope. Hope that mankind will endure.

  ‘Just because we cannot speak to the survivors out there, it does not mean that this message will not ring through the halls of the schools where children once played, through hospitals where people visited their loved ones, through the building where people made their livings, and the houses where people made their homes. And if there are people still listening, then I know it will fall on ears still turned to the sun.’ He took a moment and looked into the camera. Aaro looked back. ‘Even without the people to fill them, these places will endure. Our legacies will stand the test of time and it’s from them that
we must now draw inspiration.

  ‘This evil that has taken hold will bed in deep, but just as the tide erodes the cliffs and shores, over time, we shall erode their grip. They are too arrogant, too single minded to prevail. The human race is resilient — strong of will, and strong of spirit. We instructed countries around the world to wall in their cities, to protect their people, because regardless of the landmarks and histories that were built there, it’s the people that make those strongholds safe. And that is how they will remain.

  ‘If we cannot push them back, we will stop them from advancing, and we will resolve to survive until the day comes when we can take back this planet. We took what we deem as ours from the animals, and we built the modern world. This is simply a paradigm shift. We became the dominant species on the planet, and we forgot, that once we were not. We are no longer at the top of the food chain, but given the chance between extinction and survival, I know that every one of you out there will choose the latter. It may not be pretty, but it is better. And when the dust settles, we will claw our way from the darkness and we will lead full lives again, where your children will dance and play in the halls of their schools, and they will grow up to have families of their own, and they will share in love and happiness as we all once did. It will not happen quickly, and it will not be easy, but we will prevail, as we always have. Mark my words, and do not take this lightly — if you are in a place where the darkness has not yet reached, enjoy your last few days or weeks, because this will not stop until it has reached its end — until they are everywhere.

  ‘A dark veil has befallen humanity, but it will lift and the sun will shine again. Be strong. Be kind to your fellow man. Stay safe. And learn from our mistakes here. Protect all that you hold near and spend your last days with the ones closest to you. I cannot guarantee your safety, or even my own, but with your help, we can all hope for a better future. If not for our children, then our children’s children, and theirs in turn.

  We will stand resolute and we will weather this storm as we have before, and as no doubt, we will again. The squabbles of man have faded into obscurity in light of this new enemy. But every enemy will bleed when struck, and these are no different. Your only job is to survive, to ensure our survival, so that one day we will be able to live without fear.

  ‘Good luck, my fellow Americans, and, my fellow human beings. I believe in you. I believe in us. And I hope that you do too.’

  And with that, the screen faded to black.

  Silence rang through the bar for the rest of the night as those words soaked in.

  After that, no one heard from the President ever again.

  FORTY-ONE

  PLAYING GOD

  2107 AD

  The small clutch of high society huddled around the screen at the front of the Learjet, watching the news footage unfold. A middle-aged man was standing in Paris, outside the international terminal of the Eurostar train station, a crowd of indignant travellers standing behind him.

  ‘All gates are now closed as the United Kingdom joins the growing list of island nations that have closed their borders in the wake of mass immigration, following the announcement of the transit of the creatures that are spilling out of the Americas and across the Bering Strait,’ the reporter said. ‘Thousands of people began rioting yesterday in Italy and Spain when the ferry ports to the Balearic and Canary Islands closed to the public. We can only hope that the same doesn’t happen here.’

  After that, he rambled on about numbers and other trivial matters while crowds jostled in the background. Gertlinger sighed, staring into the bottom of his empty glass. The malty aroma of the Scotch drifted up to meet him. They were just into Swiss airspace and would be descending momentarily. The group of celebrities talked and mused about the state of affairs and where they’d hole up to survive this while the authorities took care of the problem.

  Gertlinger scoffed. There was no taking care of anything. The Varas were firmly in control. The sooner everyone realised that, the sooner that mankind could set themselves on a goal to survive this ordeal, which would surely last decades, or very possibly never end at all.

  Their best hope was that the Varas would hunt everything else into extinction and eventually starve to death.

  He mulled the thought over, not caring about anyone else on the plane, or their fates in the slightest. They were plastic faces that had whored themselves to the world for money without any real contribution — unlike him, the world ender, the bringer of doom, the creator of these monsters — the God-player.

  They descended into Geneva as normal and the plane rolled to the private rear gate of the airport. There was no need for security checks for these new arrivals.

  They left the plane in an orderly fashion and were greeted by various chauffeurs and drivers in blacked-out jeeps and limos. Gertlinger had his usual town car waiting. He approached slowly to try to counteract the whisky, edging down the steps of the jet carefully. In the distance, a man, aged since the last time they met, exited the car to open the door for Gertlinger.

  ‘Doctor,’ he said with a paid smile.

  ‘Felix,’ Gertlinger said, greeting his usual driver. The company knew not to provide anyone else.

  ‘How was the flight?’

  ‘Long.’

  ‘Where are we headed?' Felix asked, holding the door for Gertlinger to get in.

  ‘Home,’ Gertlinger said, slumping into the passenger’s seat.

  ‘Into the city?’ Felix asked, climbing into the driver’s side.

  ‘No, to my home in the country. It’s near Saanen. Head for the village and I’ll direct you.’

  ‘Okay,’ Felix said, pushing the car into drive. ‘Sannen it is.’

  The drive to the small town was quiet, and became quieter still as they wound their way into the foothills of the Alps. Gertlinger checked his phone several times to see how Max was doing but he’d heard nothing. He closed his phone for the last time and directed Felix up a twisting road until they came to a small straight. They pulled into a dusty lay-by and Felix killed the engine.

  ‘This is it,’ Gertlinger said, opening the door. He stepped out onto the gravel and looked over the car into the valley below. The sprawling countryside was picturesque, with small hamlets and beautiful mountain vistas stretching off in every direction. It was sad to think that in a few months the entirety of it would be overrun with bloodthirsty monsters tearing people from their beds and devouring them without a second thought. He sighed again and lit a cigarette.

  He dialled the number Max had text him during the flight and waiting for it to connect.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Max.’

  ‘Dad. We’re just at the border now. We’ll be a few hours,’ he said, his voice tired.

  ‘Okay, I’m at the house now. You remember the way here?’

  ‘Yeah, we know the way. I’ve got to go.'’

  He hung up and Gertlinger stowed his phone. He turned to Felix who was leaning over the roof of the car. ‘Everything alright?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, my family are on the way.’

  ‘Your family? Matt, was it? God, how long ago did we go to Berlin? Twenty years?’ He squinted in thought.

  ‘A little more — and it’s Max,’ he said with a warm smile. He was too old to be bitter and abrasive anymore. Too tired.

  ‘You patch things up in the end?’ Felix smiled back.

  ‘Only recently, and I’m not even sure — but he’s my son. I couldn’t turn him away.’

  ‘And the ex-wife?’ he laughed. ‘Patch things up with her too?’

  ‘She’s dead.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Gertlinger laughed. ‘Anyway, what do you plan to do when the proverbial shit hits the fan?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Felix said dejectedly. ‘I’m still working for now. They’re pretending like everything’s alright. When the time comes, we’ll head south I think. Try to find somewhere safe.’

  ‘Nothing in pl
ace though?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  Gertlinger thought for a second. ‘If you don’t manage to find somewhere, you’re welcome here. We’ve got plenty of room, and these walls won’t easily be breached.’

  ‘Thank You, but we’ll be okay.’ Felix smiled, but he was obviously worried.

  ‘If you change your mind, it’s no imposition. You’ve been good to me over the years.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind.’

  ‘Well, I’m going to head inside. Take care,’ Gertlinger extended his hand over the car.

  Felix took it and shook. He bid him goodbye and then drove away. Gertlinger watched him leave before he turned to the keypad on the wall with nothing but a small overnight bag filled with clothes and a bottle of Scotch.

  The thick steel door sat flush to the sheer rock wall that bordered the layby, with nothing but the small metal box that housed the keypad next to it to hint that it was anything other than a slab of immovable steel.

  He entered the twelve-digit unlock code and the door creaked heavily on its unused hinges.

  Gertlinger shuffled into the hundred-metre long tunnel and took a slow walk through the cool dark air.

  It fed into an underground garage where several cars sat under dust sheets, surrounded by various other objects covered in a similar fashion. At one point he knew what they all were — hell, he was the one that bought them and then covered them when he left. But those memories had long since faded.

  He approached the door to the house and stepped into the stairwell that connected to the main living room.

  He’d called ahead to the cleaning company that used to look after the house and asked them to come and clean up, stock the larder and the fridge with cans and other long-life items. As such, there was coffee and milk. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore just then.