by Jeyn Roberts
Either way, Leon still had Mason under lock and key. And Mason wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. He wouldn’t try and climb the fence to freedom. Not when Leon had that little girl. Casey. The one who had her entire family murdered by Baggers. So typical of Mason, always putting his feelings first and trying to take care of everyone. He may try and pull the gruff and tough man, but anyone who knew Mason, could see it was all an act. Mason was crap at hiding his feelings. Although Daniel hated to admit it, Mason’s altruism made him jealous. It was the very thing that kept Mason one step ahead of the darkness. But it would eventually get him killed. Daniel was sure of that.
As Daniel watched the female Bagger, something made him turn and look down the street. The hair on the back of his neck tingled as a small vibration swept through his body. He couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean something wasn’t out there. But what? Daniel moved across the rooftop, careful to stay a good ten feet from the edge. Although the Bagger seemed more interested in her booze, there was always a chance she might glance up and spot him.
From his perch, Daniel could see a fair way down Lougheed Road. In the distance, he could make out the mall with its gigantic parking lot. Nothing moved. He waited patiently, scanning the street and surrounding area, trying to pinpoint whatever might be out there. He could sense it growing stronger. A hum of energy. Almost like an electrical current pulsating through the air.
No, he was looking in the wrong direction. It wasn’t towards the shopping center. Turning, he ran back to the other side of the building, no longer caring if he was spotted or not. Whatever this was, it was big. He glanced down at the Bagger, but she wasn’t paying attention to anything. She’d picked up a bag from the back of the van and rooted through it, yanking out a bottle filled with amber liquid.
Usually Baggers could sense their own kind. It was one of the things that kept them from killing each other on sight. But the female Bagger must have had one too many drinks to notice.
They were coming.
He could see them. The first wave appeared from around the corner. They weren’t being discreet about it either. A few ran ahead, using baseball bats to blow out windows of abandoned cars. Storefront windows were smashed and people disappeared inside to see if there was anything worth looting.
Ferals.
They’d all heard the stories. When the earthquakes came, the Baggers appeared. But they weren’t all created equal. Some of them, like Daniel, still managed to maintain a certain amount of humanity. The ability to reason. To think. To play with their victims and prolong the kill. They were the ones who were rebuilding society. Creating a new world order. Baggers like Leon, who believed that humans needed to be controlled and guided so everything could run smoothly.
The second kind of Bagger was feral. Unable to think about anything but death and destruction. They murdered without a plan. Took down everything in sight. They were stupid, thoughtless, and very dangerous. You couldn’t reason with them. They wouldn’t give you the option to beg for your life.
As far as Daniel knew, there weren’t feral Baggers left in Vancouver. Leon and the others had rounded them up and killed them. The remaining monsters fled to the country, choosing to roam and mutilate. There were rumors and sightings of them off the highway. In the mountains and valley. In the dark lonely places where people no longer wished to wander. Daniel spoke with the occasional traveler, people claiming to be lucky enough to avoid the traps and roadblocks. They told stories of cannibalism and torture. Even Baggers didn’t try and leave suburbia anymore. The ferals apparently had no problem killing their own kind. Past the city limits, the world had become a no man’s land.
So what were they doing in Coquitlam?
Daniel stopped counting after the first couple dozen. They pushed through the streets, hundreds of them cramped together into a gigantic blur. The noise grew from a buzz to a roar. He glanced down at the female Bagger and found her looking around quizzically. She couldn’t see what Daniel could from his rooftop perch. Her partner came out of the condo. He yelled something at her, but Daniel couldn’t hear. They both climbed into the van and started it just as the group of Baggers turned down their street.
They weren’t moving fast enough. The ferals swarmed the van, slamming their bodies against the exterior, knocking the metal back and forth. They broke the windshield with baseball bats, yanked open the doors and dragged the two Baggers out into the street.
What happened next wasn’t quick. Daniel looked away, scanning the rooftop so he wouldn’t have to watch. He didn’t care about the Baggers beneath him. He’d never met them before. As far as he was concerned, the only good Bagger was a dead one. Maybe once they were decent, maybe they had families, people they loved, but that was in the past. No turning back. Once the darkness got into them, it was game over.
That’s when Daniel spotted the person a few rooftops over, standing on the edge of the building, a rifle tucked in his hands. He had the gun aimed straight at the angry hoard, but his eyes were on Daniel.
A kid. Even from a distance, Daniel could see the stranger appeared no older than twelve or thirteen. Tall and thin, the boy’s hair had grown long and shaggy from neglect. He gave Daniel the thumbs up before positioning the rifle as if he were about to take a shot.
Daniel shook his head. No.
The kid shrugged. Turning, he headed back over to the fire exit and disappeared into the building beneath him.
Where had he come from? Daniel couldn’t say for sure, not at such a distance, but he didn’t recognize the kid. That crazy hairstyle wasn’t something to forget. Moving from one end of the rooftop to the other, Daniel tried to see if his feral friends were planning on moving on. They’d finished their brutal kill. The two Baggers were nothing but bloody pulps on the ground. They’d tipped the white van over on its side and pulled out the contents, bit by bit, tearing apart the food stash and fighting over who got to eat it. They appeared to be in no hurry. Sighing, Daniel moved away from the ledge and leaned against the wall. It looked like he would be stuck there for a while. But the feral Baggers didn’t seem to have any interest in searching the abandoned condos, so unless that changed, he didn’t have much to worry about. Keeping an eye on the glass doors leading into the penthouse, he’d have to wait it out. Hopefully they’d get bored and move on soon enough.
If he had to spend the night, then so be it. He’d camped out in worse places before. The rooftop was decent enough and the penthouse even had a bit of food still in the cupboards. Glancing over at the BBQ, he wondered if he might be able to get it working. Maybe he could have a bit of a cookout. Better than eating canned beans out of a tin. It seemed unlikely that the smell of food would reach the crowd below.
Moving back towards the penthouse, he sat down in a lawn chair, listening to the noises beneath him. Something nagged at him and it took a minute to realize what it was. He hadn’t locked the deadbolt before going out on the roof. Best to do that now, just in case. But just as he headed back inside, he heard the click as someone opened the door.
Turning, Daniel dived behind the large leather couch.
“Hey. Are you in here?”
Not one of the ferals. They normally couldn’t come up with more than grunts and growls these days. Still, Daniel didn’t move. He contemplated the distance back onto the patio. Could he make it in time? Then what? It’s not like he could jump from one building to the other. He should have been more careful. What the hell had he been thinking?
“I know you’re still here. I’m the guy from the other roof. You saw me. I’m cool, dude. I’m not one of them.”
Of course he wasn’t. Daniel knew that. But that didn’t mean a thing. Even some of the humans had no problem turning on each other these days. If the kid believed Daniel had a good setup, he might consider moving in and taking out the trash.
But something told him that this kid was cool. Maybe it was the slight hesitation in his voice, or the way he’d given Daniel the thumbs up. Even if he had the u
pper hand with his rifle, Daniel didn’t think he’d try and use it.
He stood up, feeling kind of stupid for being behind the couch. It wasn’t exactly a grand hiding spot.
“Hey,” the kid said. He still had the rifle in his arms and a second one slung over his shoulder. A handgun was holstered at his side and a box of ammo stuck out of the pocket of his plaid shirt. Well armed. He stayed by the door, carefully assessing the situation before giving Daniel a quick grin. Up close, he was older, maybe fifteen.
“How’d you get over here so fast?” Daniel asked. Valid question. With the ferals still blocking the street, the kid would have had to go several blocks out of his way just to find a clear path.
The kid shrugged. “They’re too busy to notice me. Best to get them like that. Shame about those people though. I wish I could have warned them.”
“Don’t feel bad. They were Baggers.”
“Baggers? Is that what you call them?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. I’ve never thought to give them a name. Strange isn’t it? That would make a lot of sense, you know, naming them. You wouldn’t think they’d go after their own. I guess they just don’t care. I always got the impression they can recognize one another. Otherwise you’d think they’d just be killing all the time. It’s like zombies, right. They’ve got to know other zombies. You never see them trying to eat each other. Maybe it’s the smell. Do you think zombies ever sniff themselves and think ‘man, I stink.’”
“Good analogy,” Daniel said. “The ferals, I suppose they are more like zombies these days.”
“Baggers.” The kid cocked his head to the side as he considered the name. “Not what I would have picked. Psycho Monsters is better. Ex-human Mutants works too. So is this your pad? I mean, did you live here before? Have you been staying here all this time? Wouldn’t blame you. It’s pretty sweet. I wouldn’t leave either.” He glanced over at the entertainment system where a large television lay black and silent. “Man, Xbox and PlayStation. Wish the power was still on. I miss video games. I suppose you do too.”
“It’s not my place.”
The kid nodded. “Yeah, that would be kinda impossible, right? I mean, I had to bail on my pad the first night. My brother turned. Tore apart my Mom and Dad. Little sister too. There wasn’t much there after that.”
“I guess not.”
“It was really hard in the beginning, but I’m sure you know that. You’ve lost people too. Everyone has, right?”
“Yeah.” Daniel looked back over his shoulder towards the balcony.
“They’re not gonna come up here,” the kid said. “They don’t care about stuff like that. They’re more interested in bigger places. Shopping centers and wholesale places. Easier pickings and more food. People may stock up when there’s a sale at the grocery store, but they never have enough to feed a group like that. Not in a condo. You’d have to be a crazy hoarder or something.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. There’s a mall down the road. Lougheed.”
“They’ll go there. I’d bet my guns on it.”
“You seem to know a lot about them.”
The kid cocked his head to the side again. Walking past Daniel, he went out onto the balcony, motioning with his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Daniel followed. Outside, the ferals appeared to have grown bored. They’d destroyed and eaten all the contents in the van and smashed the windows out of the building across the street. A bunch in the front were spreading away from the group, slowly making their way around the corner.
The kid studied the group for a few seconds before finally pointing somewhere in the middle. “See that guy. Red shirt. Jeans. Not there, back a few. By the woman wearing the sundress.”
Daniel spotted the feral as it gave a hard kick at the white van.
“That’s my brother.”
“Wait.” Daniel turned toward the kid. “You’ve been keeping tabs on your brother all this time?”
“Yeah,” the kid said. “All the way from Alaska. He was by himself a good part of the way. Met up with the others on the main highway. He’s been travelling with them ever since.”
Daniel couldn’t believe it. Alaska? That meant he’d been following his brother for thousands of miles. Stalking him with the rifle. Watching his kills. And doing nothing. “Why?” he asked.
“Why didn’t I kill him?” The kid sighed as if the answer was obvious. “He’s my brother. I can’t do that. Besides, there’s a cure. I’m going to find it.”
For the first time in ages, Daniel actually had to choke back on his laughter. A cure? How naïve could this kid be? No such thing existed because this wasn’t a virus. It wasn’t some government cold produced to destroy imaginary enemies. No animals were tortured to create vaccines. The only way to save the world from the Baggers was to kill them or maybe cut them off from the source. But the source? No one, even Daniel, actually knew what it was. Some sort of evil that had found a way to get into the heart and minds of people everywhere. It wasn’t some sort of monster sulking away in a cave and giving orders to its minions. You couldn’t go hunt it down and cut off its head.
Mason had once told Daniel about some guy he met in Calgary. A man who went by the name of Twiggy. He’d suggested that the evil was something deep beneath the surface, a type of deranged Mother Nature. Twiggy also said the monster had been on earth since the beginning of time. It had done this sort of thing before.
That was the closest explanation Daniel could agree with. While in Bagger form, most of what he experienced was a hazy mess. He remembered the things he wanted to forget. The people he betrayed. The ones he killed. The voices in his head were a constant reminder of who he no longer was and what was expected of him. But nothing was revealed in terms of an origin story.
“There’s no cure,” Daniel said.
“There has to be,” the kid said. “There’s always a cure. Somewhere in this world, there are people and they’re working on it. They’re locked away safe in government facilities and still in contact with each other. That’s why they created the Internet, you know. So they could communicate in times of war. Somewhere things are still working. People are working. They’re going to fix everything.”
“Then they’re wasting their time.”
“Maybe.” The kid looked down at his brother again. “But I’m going to believe otherwise. You ask me why I didn’t kill my brother? It’s because I think he can come back.”
Wouldn’t that be wonderful? But such things were fool’s hope. Daniel knew better. Even with Aries and her unusual gift, there was no second chance. All he could do was fight to keep control of his own brain. And stay away from those he loved. That was the only cure.
“He will come back,” the kid insisted. There was a finality to his voice, like he’d spent the past few months forcing himself to believe it. Daniel knew there was nothing he could say that would change the kids mind.
“Fair enough.”
“I’m Jordan, by the way.” The kid held out his hand to shake. Daniel didn’t accept the offer. No point in letting Jordan think they were going to become best friends. Daniel worked alone.
“Daniel.”
They watched as the ferals slowly made their way down the block. Jordan chatted non-stop, pointing out a few in the group, giving some details about where they’d hooked up. The girl with the pink hair joined up in Hope. The three guys in matching work shirts came in around Prince George. Jordan had trouble there. He’d been spotted and chased into the woods. He’d spent a few days having to travel through the bush, living off of a few strips of beef jerky and a bottle of water. But he’d caught up with the group. They moved slowly and predictably. All Jordan had to do was follow the road and search for signs of destruction.
“They’ve killed everyone they’ve come across,” Jordan said. “But not my brother. He got into a car accident a few years ago and got pins put in his knee. He doesn’t run as fast. Lags behind the group a lot. The others don’t seem to care. I guess. They ha
rdly notice anything. Watch.”
Jordan brought up his rifle and took aim. A single feral had broken away from the group, stopping to take a pee on the hedges across the street.
“Wait!”
Jordan pulled the trigger and the gun gave a quiet pop. A silencer. The feral dropped, pitched forward into the bushes. Jordan was right. The other ferals didn’t even notice or look back.
“You could have warned me,” Daniel said.
“Come on, give me more credit than that,” Jordan said. “I may be dumb, but I ain’t stupid.” He brought the gun up and showed Daniel the silver bit at the barrel. “Like it? I made it myself. Not hard when you know how. Best not to draw attention, don’t you think?”
“You’re one hell of a shot.”
“Thanks. Got my Daddy’s eye. He could bag a deer from a hundred feet.” Jordan paused, cocking his head to the side again. “Holy crap. Bagger. Bag a deer. I get it. That totally makes sense.”
As the last of the remaining feral Baggers turned the corner and disappeared, the street once again grew quiet. It was only then that Daniel could hear his heart beating heavily in his chest. He turned back to Jordan who propped his rifle against a patio table and bent down to tie his shoelace.
“How many of them are there? Have you tried counting?”
“I dunno. Three fifty. Four hundred?”
“Jesus.”
Four hundred feral Baggers and they were moving steadily towards Vancouver.