by JM HART
“Yeah … what?”
“You okay? Why are you shouting?”
“Sorry. I’m good.”
Daniel bent his face down and looked closely into Kevin’s. “You up to riding in the back with your friend? If he wakes up, he will at least see a friendly face?”
“What … yeah sure; if I have to.”
Tim chuckled.
“What are you giggling about? I don’t think there is anything here to be laughed at,” Daniel said. “Chuck your stuff in the back with the bike and get in the car.”
Surprised, Tim said, “You got Kevin’s bike?”
Daniel opened the car door. “I saw it last night. I drove by this morning and it was still here so I picked it up. Is that why you three were fighting? Did Kevin come over to pick up the bike? Did you guys hit that kid?”
“You think Kevin smashed him — no way. Kevin wouldn’t hurt a fly, in any case.”
“I didn’t think so, but had to ask.”
Just before Kevin climbed into the back of the ambulance Tim ran around the front of the Dodge and purposely bumped into him and whispered in his ear: “Friendly face, ha, ha. Better you than me, K. If I see the ambulance swerving all over the road I’ll know the feral cat woke and saw your friendly face, ha ha ha.”
*
The Emergency waiting room was packed. People were coming in and hardly anyone was going out. A mother came in carrying her young boy; his arm looked like an S-curve. He was white as a ghost and looked like he was about to upchuck. Many people were coughing, rubbing their heads, or trying to blow their noses. A pregnant teenager was crying, heaving into a plastic bag, while her caring mother held back her hair. The little boy with the broken arm was taken through the door marked Triage. A man stood up aggressively and pushed his way over to the reception’s plastic anti-jump barrier and banged his fist. “Hey, what’s the deal? We’ve been waiting for two hours and that kid gets in.”
“Please sit down, sir.”
Agitated, the man rubbing his head yelled at the small woman behind the barrier. “He had a broken arm!”
Both hands went up to his head as if it would burst. “I can’t think straight any more. I just want to see a doctor.”
“Sir, calm down and go look after your wife.”
The security door to the treating area opened. Kevin could see his dad shaking the doctor’s hand and together they entered the waiting area talking. He could hear his dad saying, “Okay, thanks for your help. We’ll pop in tomorrow and see how he’s doing. Let’s go, boys,” Daniel said, putting a hand on Kevin’s shoulder.
The doctor walked to the vending machine and watched his coffee being dispensed.
“I’ve asked you nicely, sir,” the lady behind the barrier said. “Now I’m going to get security.”
Kevin left the emergency area through the sliding doors when, abruptly, he stopped, becoming increasingly aware of the angry man walking back to his wife. “Shit,” Kevin said running back inside and nearly tripping over Tim. “Move!”
“K, where you going?” Tim said.
Kevin’s sneakers squeaked loudly in his mind as he ran along the blue spongy linoleum floor and thought, Why do they call them sneakers? Security guys lazily entered the waiting room from the same door his dad had used. They were chatting casually, tucking in their shirts and hiking up their utility belts, totally blind to what was about to happen. Shit, Kevin thought. Everything seemed to be in slow motion again. The colors around the angry man who had been yelling at the receptionist changed to a black, oily swirl as he strode over towards his wife, who was weak with fever, her beautifully colored hijab soaked. “Stop,” Kevin shouted. But it was too late. The man’s face was clammy, his hair greasy. Kevin reached for him and smelt stale perspiration as he grabbed the back of the man’s shirt. His wife tried to pull away as her husband snatched her arm off her chest, snapping her wrist. The woman shrieked in pain.
The man yelled back at the receptionist, “Now can we get some attention around here?”
The doctor abandoned his coffee and rushed to the woman. The security guards pushed Kevin to the floor before tackling the man to the ground. Most people sat by as if this was normal; people didn’t seem to care any more. Kevin felt his dad reach down and help him up.
Daniel dusted his son off. “You okay? How did you know? What were you thinking? Let’s get you out of here. Let security do their job.”
Kevin doubled over and held his stomach. “I feel sick. I can still feel her pain.” He ran outside and threw up on the pavement.
Daniel rubbed Kevin’s back until he stopped throwing up. “I’m sorry, Kevin,” Daniel said. “I don’t know why this happens to you.”
Kevin wiped his mouth with the ends of his shirt. “I’m okay.”
Trying to lighten the mood, Tim yelled like a circus ringmaster with his arms up in the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, the quantum psycho virus has come to town!”
“I don’t doubt that, Tim, but you don’t have to yell it out,” Daniel said. “I have been dealing with this sort of shit all week. So many guys at work have called in sick and we are running skeleton crews just like the cops. I thought being on the other side of the world had its benefits. It’s been a few years since it started and I thought, given the time and distance, it might have died out, and we would have escaped it altogether, or with little casualties. Like the old bird flu.”
“Anything’s possible, just got to have certainty, Dad.” Kevin looked away embarrassed, not knowing where the thought came from, or why he said it. It didn’t feel like his. “Whatever,” Kevin said, trying to cover up his confusion.
“That’s what your nanna used to say. Kevin, don’t ever be ashamed of your abilities, be proud. You’re a good person. Tomorrow we will come back to see your mate. I don’t want you guys coming into the city on your bikes. Or using the train by yourselves.” They all got in the truck and he turned on the ignition. “The city is a crazy place at the moment. You don’t know who is going to turn.”
At the mention of his bike, Kevin felt a knot in his stomach. He was going to have to tell his dad he lost it. “My bike …” Kevin mouthed to Tim.
“It’s in the back,” Tim mouthed back and thumbed over his shoulder towards the tail of the truck.
“What?” Kevin lifted his hands and shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head to imply he didn’t understand.
“What are you guys going on about?” Daniel said.
“I was just telling Kevin, you have his bike in the back.”
“Ah, yes. I saw it lying at the front of Shaun’s and picked it up. I didn’t know you knew Shaun. Hope I didn’t cause you any problems. I know he is a little older than you both, but I think that boy has had a hard life. It’s nice you guys have made him your friend. Just don’t let him influence you to do — well, I think you know what I mean. Stay out of trouble.”
*
Tim helped Kevin grab the tent out of the truck, while Mr D lifted Kevin’s bike out and propped it against the garage wall. As they walked through the garage door and into the house, Kevin called out, “Alex! You home, buddy?”
“We’re up here. He’s in the bath,” Mrs D replied.
They dropped their stuff at the front door and climbed the stairs.
“Hi, Mom, sorry I’m late.”
“Hi, Tim,” Callie said ignoring Kevin. “Did you have fun last night?” Callie continued rinsing soap out of Molly’s hair.”
“Oh yes, thank you. Did you hear that your US professor’s daughter is now missing, too?” Tim said.
Kevin held his breath as her facial muscles tensed.
“We saw it earlier at my place, on TV,” Tim said.
“We’re just going to pitch the tent. It won’t take long and Alex can come down after he has finished his bath,” Kevin said.
“Go get some dinner. I wanted you home before it was dark.” She turned and looked at him. “Is that blood on your shirt?” she said lifting Molly out of the bath.
/> Kevin looked at his shirt.
Tim could feel the tension building; Kevin became a mess, instantly looking guilty and ashamed. He felt sorry for him and jumped in to rescue his friend. “That’s right, it’s blood,” Tim said. “A kid got his cheek sliced open. Then Mr D arrived and took him to the hospital. K —”
“Tim, it’s Kevin, not K.”
“Sorry.” Kevin was holding a cloth to his face. Tim was dying inside. He wanted to rush his sentences, was starting to feel like he was lying and that he was to blame for all the shit in the world. How did she do it? Just then Kevin’s dad walked in and saved them.
“The boys were genuine heroes this evening,” Daniel said, lifting Alex out of the bath and wrapping him in a towel. “Kevin tried to step in and stop a man from breaking his wife’s arm. He obviously foresaw it because he started charging at the man before it even happened. Well done, K.”
Tim’s eyes darted to Kevin’s mom, to see if she would react to Kevin’s dad calling him K — go, Mr D — but she was distracted.
“What do you mean, foresaw?”
You could cut the air with a knife, Tim thought, and now Mr D is going to take the tongue-lashing she had been saving for Kevin. “Let’s go,” Tim whispered to Kevin.
“It’s too late for Alex, Kevin,” his mom said. “It’s nearly his bedtime.”
Alex started to whine. “Oh pleeeeeeease, Mommy, pleeeeeease.”
Molly copied Alex. “Peasss, peasss.”
“Off you go, Alex,” Daniel said, overruling Callie. “Get your pajamas on, and your robe and slippers.”
“But it’s not cold, Daddy,” Alex said.
“No robe and slippers, no tent. I’ll come and get you in half an hour,” Daniel said.
The boys turned on their heels and made tracks outside, Alex in tow. They pitched the tent close to the house. They had so much to talk about, so the wait for Kevin’s dad to fetch Alex for bed seemed like hours. They sat in the middle of the tent devouring chunks of rocky road and patiently telling Alex fart jokes.
*
“’Night, boys, don’t stay up all night gasbagging. You hear anything strange you get inside. You shouldn’t be out here. We’ll go early to the hospital, before my shift starts.”
“’Night, Dad.”
“’Night, Mr D.”
Kevin strained his ears, listening to his father’s footsteps crunching across the dry back lawn, waiting to hear him step onto the patio and into the house.
“What —”
“Shh.” Kevin put up his hand to stop Tim saying another word. As soon as the outside light was turned off he said, “Now we can talk.”
“What a crazy day, man. I’m never going to get to sleep. My leg was crushed! We magically survived a firestorm, ignited by that dick lying in the hospital. Now we have to go and see him tomorrow.”
“Did you see him looking at your leg? He knew who we were.”
“What happened yesterday, K? Where did we go? We have to go back. We have to go back and find that place. Everything was electrifying. The fluorescent colors — awesome, dude. And my leg, my leg, it just, it just healed and the sunburn vanished. What gives? And don’t forget my shoulder dislocated. Man, all that shit hurt. What was that, a vortex?” Tim was nearly out of his sleeping bag, nearly on top of Kevin, and with each question, he spoke a little faster, a little more excitedly. “Everything was connected, even us. You heard my thoughts.”
“I know, right. How bizarre was that, totally unbelievable!” Kevin drifted into his own thoughts and spoke contemplatively, Tim hanging on his every word. “I don’t know what happened,” Kevin said. “I believe it was very real, as real as it was when I saw the boy drown. The wall — it just appeared. The smell of smoke was the first thing I noticed. I then saw you, and the rest is just a blur. We needed to escape the fire — I needed to get you out of there. I couldn’t see how. The fire was surrounding us. I kept looking. Then I saw what I first thought was an illusion; I was concussed from the king- hit. I got up and touched the wall. The shimmering mirage sparkled like a lake in the midday summer sun. I pushed my hand into it, and when I pulled it out, the sunburn was gone. I had no doubt, I was certain this was our way out. A door to another dimension had opened up to us and I didn’t want to think about it logically, because there was no other choice.”
The soft glow of the streetlight and a cluster of silhouettes swayed hypnotically across the dome of the tent. He watched Tim touch his leg and stretch it upward. He flexed his knee, making sure it still worked.
“Do you know anyone named Jade?” Kevin asked.
“Nah. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Kevin said, closing his eyes. “When we were leaving and we were in that, like, embryonic jelly state, before you pulled me out, I thought of the name, and I saw some other things, but I can’t remember clearly.”
Kevin and Tim talked and talked, throwing out one idea after another about where they could have been. Exhausted, Tim finally fell asleep mid-sentence, and Kevin crashed three ideas after. The night cooled as he slept on top of his sleeping bag and dreamed of the day’s events.
10
Infected: Casey. England.
Casey stretched, feeling refreshed and comfortable in the motel’s feathered bed. Now for a famous English breakfast, he thought. He dressed and rushed downstairs to the buffet, soon sitting down to a mountain of eggs, sausages, mushrooms, potato cakes and a side plate of muffins. Terry and Amy drank their strong tea and watched him wolf it down. The motel was quiet and there were only two other couples at breakfast. Full of food, the trio headed into the lobby and waited for the solicitor.
Gary, the UK solicitor, acted like a tour guide, pointing out the sights as they drove through England into the north. Casey was glued to the window, mesmerized by the lush rolling hills and fields of yellow poppies as they headed to Amy’s inherited estate. Snow might be falling in a few weeks and he shivered at the thought of the temperature pushing past zero and beyond. He loved the warmth of the sun.
The car pulled off the road onto a dirt driveway that was hidden by green hedges. Silver birch trees lined up on either side of the road and the fallen leaves were scattered by the movement of the car. He started to feel a cold sweat rush over him as they moved closer to the end of the driveway. The car stopped and Casey flung open the car door and vomited.
Amy came up beside him patting his back. Casey wiped his mouth and said, “One sausage too many.”
“You’re pale as a ghost!” Amy said.
He rested his hands on his hips, straightened up and drew in a deep breath. I can do this, he thought, but I wish Sophia would hurry. Running his fingers though his hair he said, “I’m okay. Check this place out, Amy. This isn’t a cottage. This is a manor.”
Ivy climbed the walls and arched across the entrance. The thatched roof looked old but well maintained. Casey shoved his hands deep inside his pockets, digging his nails into his leg.
“It has eighteen rooms in all,” the solicitor said, “with a cellar, and a shed that was once a stable.”
Terry held onto Amy’s hand and said, “This is wonderful. I had no idea it would be so big, did you?”
“None, I can’t believe it’s ours,” Amy said. “Can you smell the trees, and the grass? It smells so fresh and crisp.”
“That’s good old English air. My dad used to say it would put hairs on your chest. Shall we go inside?” said Gary, the solicitor.
They moved from room to room admiring the furniture and the decor. Casey walked behind Amy and Terry into the kitchen. “The smell’s not as fresh in here, bit musty.” It feels like someone is here, like we’re intruding, Casey thought. The atmosphere was thick and the air stale; a shiver ran down his spine. “It’s so cold, is there any heating?”
“There are six open fireplaces in the house: one downstairs in the living room, another in the library, one in the master bedroom and two in the double bedrooms,” Gary announced. “Amy, your great-aunt only used a smal
l part of the cottage. The story is that once the arthritis clamped around her fragile bones she settled into the downstairs rooms. Nobody has lived upstairs for at least five years.” He kept talking as he walked out of the house. The trio followed. “A cleaner used to come once a week and her son chopped the wood. The woodpile is big enough to keep you warm for two winters. Sometimes you will be snowed in. There is a snowmobile out in the shed. Do you have any questions?” Gary’s shoes crunched on the gravel as he turned around to face the road. “Oh, and you can get general supplies at the wee town about twenty miles south, that way,” he said, “and the ocean is that way.”
“All of this is mine. You sure?”
“Yes, ma’am, everything in the buildings and every bit of the land from the beginning of the drive to the fences in the back paddock. From time to time you’ll see some fine Shetland ponies grazing. They’re not yours; they belong to the family two paddocks south, but with this virus, they have left them to roam just in case, well, you know … Oh, one more thing: there’s an old Jaguar, a Jeep SUV, and a Bonneville in the shed. The keys are in the library desk drawer. Now, if you have no more questions I’ll take my leave. My family are heeding the Queen’s advice and seeking safe harbor in the countryside, as are you. Until, well, I am sure you know as much as I. Good luck and God bless”.
“What’s a Bonneville?” Casey asked, glad to be outside. He watched as the man smiled and bounced on the spot.
“What’s a Bonneville? Young man, you haven’t lived till you’ve been on a Bonneville. It’s a classic Triumph motorcycle. I’m sure you’ll take a shine to it, if your dad can pull himself away from it, because I’m sure he will fall in love with it. Maybe he’ll teach you how to ride it one day.”
Terry, Amy and Casey looked at each other, but no one spoke.
“Right then, I’ll be off.” He opened the car door and climbed in, fastening his seat belt.
“When is the cleaner due?” Terry asked him through the window.
“I gave her a tinkle, no reply. There’s no cell phone reception here by the way; you need to use the landline. Her number and address is on the library desk. He waved calling, “Cheerio, God bless,” as he hurriedly drove the vehicle around the garden and headed down the drive, leaving the trio, gobsmacked, on the steps of their new home.