Cities of the Dead: Winters of Discontent (5 page)

“
Elyse, please
wake up,
”
he said, panic
froming in his chest. He rolled her onto her back, her body limp
and lifeless.

He bowed his head, his mouth trembled and hot
tears let down across his face before he began to sob and
weep.

There was a vicious influenza
going about the world at the moment, part of a global pandemic, but
he hadn
’
t
thought it had made it
’
s way into Scotland, yet. He looked down at his wife of
nine years and stroked her brown hair softly, wishing
he
’
d been able
to say
“good-bye”
rather
than only
“
good-night.
”
It
hadn
’
t occurred
to him that death could steal her from him so quickly.

He pulled the covers over her
body, dressed quickly and walked out of the room, closing the door
behind him. He called emergency services and was surprised he had
to wait several minutes before his call was picked up. After taking
his information, he was told there would likely be a lengthy wait
for anyone to respond because the contagion had struck the town
hard in the previous thirty-six hours, and the
city
’
s
resources were stretched thin.

He slipped his mobile phone into
his pocket and stared at the photos of him and Elyse that hung
framed on the wall, images of them in Spain and Italy and Florida.
They hadn
’
t had
children, so they traveled. This year, Greece was on the docket.
Tears coursed down his face and his jaw trembled as her thought of
life without her. He walked across the room and pulled a whisky
bottle off the shelf, figuring he
’
d fortify a cup of coffee when
he glanced through the window and saw Rory MacMiller hurriedly
packing his car, his wife buckling their two young children into
the backseat.

Clennan walked outside and across his modest
front lawn.

“
Hey, Rory,
what
’
s the
rush?
”
Clennan
asked.

“
Time to get the
fuck out of here,
”
Rory
said.
“
The
infection
’
s
sweeping town and you
’
d be best to get you and Elyse out now,
too.
”

“
I can
’
t do that. Elyse died during the
night.
”

Rory paused after setting a canvas
duffle in the back of the car.
“
Oh, my god, Clennan, that
’
s awful. I
’
m so sorry,”
Rory
said.
“
Was it the
infection?
”

Clennan gave a brief nod.

“
But, still,
you
’
d best
consider getting out, now. It
’
ll be complete pandemonium
within a couple of hours, so a head start before everyone else gets
the idea would be in order,
”
Rory said.

Clennan
’
s mobile phone began ringing in
is pocket, so he fished it out and wandered back toward his house
as he checked the display.

“
Tavish,
what
’
s
up?
”

“
You seen the
telly?
”

“
The news about
the contagion?
”

“
Yeah,
that.
”

“
Just a little. Why?”

“
You and Elyse
need to come meet me. Erskine and Mary are already on their way,
then we
’
re
going to head out to my summer cottage and wait this thing out. You
don
’
t want to
be in a city with this bug going around,
”
Tavish said.

“
I wish I could,
but Elyse died during the night and I
’
m waiting for emergency services
to respond.
”

There was a pause on the other end
of the connection, then,
“I
’
m sorry to here that. She was a
good woman. But if she died of this plague, you
’
re going to need to get out of
there right now. Just jump in your car and come
here.
”

"I can
’
t do that, Tavish. I have to be
here when the authorities come for her
body.
”

Another pause.
“
Clennan, you can
’
t do that. Emergency services
everywhere are overwhelmed, they won
’
t be coming for hours, if ever,
if this outbreak is as bad as it sounds on Twitter. Get home, pack
a bag, and get a move on.
”

Clennan stared around the
neighborhood, bewildered at what was happening. What was happening?
How had this bug caught the authorities unaware? He walked back to
his house and sat down on the sofa, the television still going on
about the sudden onset of the plague and urging people to stay
indoors while the professionals dealt with maintaining order. The
news presenters tried to maintain a sense of order and calm in
their reports, but Clennan could tell whatever was going on had
overwhelmed the government
’
s ability to respond. If they
couldn
’
t send
an ambulance for Elyse, if Rory
’
s family was fleeing, then the
government wouldn
’
t be coming any time soon.

He suddenly felt alone, lost, in a
way he
’
d never
felt before. His friends were heading out to the country to wait
the plague out, but why? Why didn
’
t they trust the National Health
Service to bring things under control? Not that he had any great
faith in the government
’
s health system, but it was
something meant to combat such an epidemic. If nobody trusted it,
then what did that mean for society? His mobile phone twitched in
his hand and made a tone. A text from Erskine.

“
just heard from
Tav re: Elyse sorry that you
’
ve lost her

you
’
ve got to get out of there
now

you know the people who die from
this bug turn into fucking zombies don
’
t you

GET OUT NOW”

He didn
’
t want to believe that. Of
course he
’
d
seen the videos online of the infected, but it was almost always
shaky mobile phone camerawork from too far away to see anything
definitive. The only thing that seemed for certain at this point
was that the plague was worldwide, fast-acting and
deadly.

He hated the thought of leaving Elyse lying in
bed, dead, waiting for the authorities to come for her body.
Clennan went into the bedroom and pulled out his nylon gym duffle
from the closet and began stuffing it with extra clothing and
grooming supplies.

And then he heard the springs in
the mattress squeak, the hair on his arms and neck suddenly
electrified. He turned and stepped out of the bathroom, watching as
his wife
’
s head lolled on
the pillow, rolling back and forth, her eyes still closed. Maybe he
had been wrong and she hadn
’
t died?

“
Elyse?”
he said softly, stepping sideways to the foot of the
bed.
“Are you okay?”

Her head bent up from the pillow and the
eyelids slid open, her eyeballs initially twitching back and forth
before coming to rest on Clennan. They were no longer green, but a
mass of bloodshot whites around an inky dark circle, betraying rage
behind them.

Clennan felt a deep sadness as he took a step
backward, watching as his dead - undead? - wife struggled in the
sheets as she tried to get off the bed. She thrashed weakly for a
few seconds and then rolled out of the bed onto the floor, still
caught up in the bedding. He stared in horror as she shakily stood
up, her lolling on her neck, her eyes fixing on him but not seeing
him. Not seeing him as Clennan, her husband, but as something else.
And then she snarled in a tone that turned Clennan cold, a sound so
angry and vicious he could scarcely believe it had come from his
wife. She stumbled a step toward him and tripped in the bedding,
slamming into the wall on her side of the bed. She growled lowly as
she righted herself and tried another step, the bedding again her
undoing as she fell onto the bed and small stream of dark fluid
trickled from her mouth.

Clennan stared for a moment more as Elyse
fought her way back to her feet. And then he grabbed the handle of
the bedroom door, tears welling in his eyes.

“
Good-bye, Elyse,”
he said as he backed through the bedroom
doorway, his voice cracking.
“
I loved you more than you could have known, and
I
’
m going to
miss you for the rest of my life.
”

And then he pulled the door
closed. He could hear her banging on the walls of the room as he
walked through the to the spare room and sat down at the computer
in it - a room awaiting a child that had never come - and typed up
a short message in 24-point Courier New font warning of his
wife
’
s
condition and location in the house. He read it, highlighted
everything and applied bold to it for emphasis.

He taped the note to the front door and looked
around at the early morning quiet of the neighborhood, how ordinary
it looked and sounded. Birds were chirping. It was hard to imagine
a pandemic had just spread through town and that his friends were
already on the way to a safer haven.

He pressed his car clicker and
unlocked the door, sliding in and starting it up, all the while
staring through the windshield at his house, wondering when he
would return to it, what would become of Elyse inside it. And then
he heard the thundering of a half-dozen Army Wildcat Mk1
helicopters as they flew by overhead, banking sharply and
descending as they approached downtown. That
couldn
’
t be
good, he thought, backing onto the street and driving away from his
home. If the Army was arriving in force this early into Day 1 in
Banchory, then the government had already determined things were
much worse than it was letting on. But why was the government
responding with the Army? What on earth could it do to fight a
pandemic?

He knew he was going to have to drive
fast.

***

A SLIM CHANCE AT A NARROW
ESCAPE

Warren, Pennsylvania - Day 1801

Will and Frank sat in front of the
fire without saying a word, each sipping on a glass of bourbon and
letting the heat sink into their bodies. They
’
d lost Olandis that afternoon in
Warren on their way back from a successful deer hunt when
they
’
d run
across a group of eight super-runners. Will, Frank and Olandis were
knee-deep in snow, each with a chunk of deer on his back when
Olandis had suddenly said,
“Fuck.”

And there, at the intersection of
Hemlock and Pennsylvania Avenue, were a group of super runners.
Super Runners. Frank shifted in his seat as he thought about it.
The snow falling for the entire day, the deer - a nine point buck -
standing thirty feet away when he noticed it, the fact they
hadn
’
t seen a
zombie in more than a month leading all of them into a sense of
complacency. Frank brought the deer down with an arrow and relished
the thought of venison for dinner, again. It had been almost a
month since they
’
d brought down a deer and had been living on canned food
rooted out of houses in the town and smoked fish from the previous
summer.

Running wasn
’
t an option. The super zulus
were all threadbare and skeletal while Frank, Will and Olandis were
all dressed heavily in winter clothing and heavy snow-boots. Frank
watched as Will shrugged off his pack and pulled his bastard sword
out, a weapon he
’
d rescued a year earlier from a long-forgotten Renaissance
faire and sharpened frequently.

“
Olandis, get out
your blade and move over to the left and get ready to come in from
the side,
”
Frank said as
Will side-stepped in the opposite direction.