This Plague of Days, Season Two (The Zombie Apocalypse Serial) (6 page)

“Hey!” Anna called. “What have you heard?”

The youngest child, a very short little boy, began to say something but went silent when the man looked back at him sharply.

“We’re headed to the refugee camp!” Anna yelled.

The man looked toward them and with a short, sharp wave of his hand — a gesture that looked like it was designed to save energy — told them to move on.
 

Jack pressed the accelerator and they pulled away. “Bye!” Anna yelled back. “Nice talking to you!”

“What are they so afraid of?” Mrs. Bendham asked.

“What’s
not
to be afraid of?” Jack said. “I was afraid they’d ask for a ride. We don’t have room.”

Anna threw a glance back at Mrs. Bendham. “We could
make
room.”

Jack caught her daughter’s meaning but ignored the implication. “They don’t want to risk getting sick so they don’t want to get in here and breathe our air.” She turned the wheel, left on North Lynhurst Drive. “Watch for those orange arrows. I don’t want to miss a turn.”

Jaimie peered into the darkness. There were people shuffling in the darkness. They moved in sparse lines, like ants following a pheromone trail to a nest. There was no need for the orange arrows anymore. All that was necessary was to follow the lines of people. He squeezed his father’s hand to wake him from his doze and leaned forward to touch Anna’s shoulder.
 

“What is it Ears?” Anna said.

He pointed ahead and to the right, onto West 16
th
Street. As soon as they turned right, the camp loomed ahead and to the left.

“Anna, don’t call your brother Ears,” Jack said.

“Ears is an endearment. I call him Lassie when I’m pissed at him.”

“Anna!” Jack would have been angrier, but the chuckle popped out first.
 

A sign ahead said they were approaching the west gate to the refugee camp. Tanks lined the street on each side and soldiers shone lights into the vehicle. The weary travellers on foot crowded closer to the van, but they looked livelier now. People began to shout back down the line. “We’re here! We’re here! Not much farther! We made it!”

A soldier with an oil lantern waved Jack to a stop and she rolled down her window. He wore no helmet. His rifle hung by a strap on his shoulder. He looked friendly. “Evening, ma’am. Y’all got any weapons? Firearms of any kind?”

“No, sir.”
 

Jaimie detected a soft Georgian accent filtering the soldier’s words. He liked the man immediately.

“Anybody sick? No one infected in there is there?”

“No. We’re all okay.”

“Well, that’s fine. Over the last few days, it seems there are fewer people trying to come in with the flu. It’s petered out.”

“Is that why you aren’t wearing a mask?”

“Had it myself. That’s how I pulled this duty. Lost some weight and muscle, but no bug is gonna kill me. I’m hoping for a quick death at the hands of somebody’s angry husband, ma’am.”

Anna smiled, but when she looked up at the dark silhouette of the building, she felt cold inside. A single torch burned brightly at the top, like a medieval beacon buffeted by the wind. The building towered and sprawled.

“I’ll need you to pull over to the left and the gentlemen up there will direct you to a parking spot. Pardon us, ma’am, but they’ll have to do a quick search to confirm you have no weapons before you enter the camp. General Emery’s orders. No civilians with weapons means no angry husbands shootin’ me in the back tonight.” He winked.

“How many have been killed by the virus?”

The guard dropped his gaze. “I’m sure you’ll get more answers inside, plus we’ll scare up some cots and hot food. People are always coming in hungry and discombobulated so the mess is always open.”

Discombobulated
. Jaimie thought that was an excellent word. Looking at the lines of refugees, he suspected the world would never recombobulate.

“Pull up and we’ll take care of you.”

Jack hesitated. “Is it safe?”

“Safe as houses, ma’am.”

“I really wish you hadn’t said that,” Anna said.

At that, the soldier straightened. “Miss, you and your family are under the protection of the 177th Armored under General Alphonse Emery. You are safe in the largest refugee camp in the midwest behind the largest armed force left on land. We are the last bastion of hope and we take that commitment seriously, folks. We got supply lines of helicopters searching for survivors and gathering everything we need. General Emery says we’re building another ‘shining city on a hill’ right here. Like my sergeant says, this here’s the Alamo.”

Jack nodded and thanked the guard. “Kids, welcome to The Brickyard.”

“Praise God, there’s still civilization somewhere,” Mrs. Bendham said.

Another orange arrow directed them toward the next checkpoint. Beneath the arrow in a font so blocky Jaimie could read it, the sign read: Indianapolis Speedway.

Jaimie’s mind drifted back to ants. Some ant species take care of other insects, like aphids or leafhoppers, to benefit the ant colony. But many species enslave other colonies to do their bidding.

Then Jaimie considered what happened at the Alamo. He hoped they’d be on their way again to Papa Spence’s farm soon.
 

W
HAT
WON
’
T
SURVIVE
AND
WHAT
’
S
BEST
LEFT
IN
THE
PAST

D
r. McInerney guided the boat to the dock expertly and barked at his passengers to tie up. Dayo had suggested they dock at the Goldcoast Golf Club. “If we run into trouble, it’ll be cool. Golf is for soft people.”

Sinjin-Smythe shrugged and nodded. He didn’t tell her how much he loved golf.

“It’s not what I expected,” Dayo said. “You said Dungarvan was a beach resort.”

Dr. Sinjin-Smythe nodded. “Ava mentioned it had a startling lack of palm trees and hammocks for a vacation destination. I couldn’t afford Barbados, so Ireland it was.”

“When were you here?”

The doctor shrugged. “A couple of years ago. Feels like it was millennia ago and happened to another person.”

Aadi appeared at the hatch. “Safe to come up? The girls want to go ashore.”

Sinjin-Smythe shook his head. “We don’t know how far and fast the contagion has reached yet. Up on deck is fine, but you better let me and Dayo check out Dungarvan for supplies.”

Dayo shook her head. “You and Aadi go, Doc. The captain and I get along fine, but he needs some space apart from Aadi. Give him some more time to grieve his wife.” She turned to Aadi and clapped him on the shoulder. “Go fast, come back quicker. The girls will be fine with me.”

Aadi held the big woman’s eyes for a moment and murmured, “Of course they will.”

“Bring chocolate.”

Sinjin-Smythe called to Dr. McInerney. “What do you think we need for the voyage, Captain?”

“It’s the end of the bleeding world. We need everything!”

Aadi quirked an eyebrow at Sinjin-Smythe. “You’re going to need a bigger boat.”

* * *

Aadi ran ahead of Sinjin-Smythe. When the doctor caught up to him, a bent, white-haired fellow was already handing car keys over to the little man. Aadi waved him into a blue Skoda parked nearby. “We’ll be back soon! Thank you so much!”

The old man waved and turned to walk back into the clubhouse.

Sinjin-Smythe looked in awe at the former Harrods guard. “I was going to throw some weight around. I still work for the CDC as far as I’m concerned. I thought — ”

Aadi gunned the engine and the tires spit gravel as he took off up the Goldcoast Road. “Craig. Your plan was to run up to somebody at random and start screaming about the zombie apocalypse?”

“Well, when you put it that way…what did you say to the old man?”

“I told him my little girl was in diabetic shock and needed insulin. He didn’t hesitate to give me his keys. Good chap.”

Sinjin-Smythe blinked hard and smiled. “He
fell
for that? Why wouldn’t we call an ambulance or at least show up with a kid to take with us?”

It was Aadi’s turn to smile. “I worked as a security guard, Doctor. When you’re dealing with shoplifters, you don’t give them time to think straight.”

“Looks to me like you picked up a few things from the thieves.”

“Yes, no, maybe so.”

“Take a left up ahead.”

* * *

The garages they passed displayed signs reading: Out of Petrol. The farther they went into town, the more uneasy Aadi and the doctor became.
 

Sinjin-Smythe directed Aadi toward the town’s heart. Aadi slowed, searching windows. No curtains moved. Cars were parked neatly at the side of the road.

“It’s a ghost town. You know those stories of little villages that people left, all at once, with half-eaten plates of food still on the table? Happens again and again through history. Some big towns, too. No one knows why the people ran. It’s as if they got sucked up into space. That’s what this feels like. Where did you stay when you were here?”

“Lawlors Hotel.”

“Sorry we don’t have time for a trip down memory lane, mate.”

Sinjin-Smythe looked away. “I’m not sorry.”

Dungarvan’s Grattan Square was almost empty. One man stood in front of the Tavern Restaurant.
 

The man stood stiffly and he wore a dark blue uniform with the word “Garda” in white lettering across his chest.
 

“Great,” Aadi said. “That’s the last thing we need. A copper.”

“Can I start screaming bloody murder about the World Health Organization and zombies now, please?”

“Yeah. That’s what it’ll take. Hit the whole impossible mission to save the human race thing hard.”

“If that doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll have to hit him over the head with something heavy.”

“I shall attempt to be my most convincing.”

Aadi uttered a strong Yoda impression. “Do or do not. There is no try.”

The policeman appeared at the window beside Sinjin-Smythe. His sidearm, a Walther 99c, was pointed at the doctor’s head. “Iasan Bell called. He said a couple of Brits made off with his car and the Garda should be on the look out. And here you are.”

Aadi looked to the doctor. “I guess the old man had some time to think it through.”
 

Sinjin-Smythe shook as he stared down the barrel of the pistol. “Shite.”

* * *

Aastha shook Dayo awake. She sat up in her bunk fast, gasping in surprise. A glance at the six-year-old told Dayo something was wrong. “Where’s Aasa?”

Aastha began to cry. Dayo leapt up. “What’s happening? Where’d your sister go?”

“She’s upstairs.”

Dayo made for the hatch. It was locked from above.
 

“McInerney! Dr. McInerney! Let us out! What’s going on?”

The boat’s engine rumbled to life and Dayo had to grab Aasa’s empty bunk to avoid losing her balance.

Aastha squeezed her eyes shut and put her hands over her ears. The little girl called for her big sister in a chant that was a despairing prayer. “Aasa! Aasa! Aasa!”

Dayo felt as if she had swallowed a burning stone. Above, she could just make out a sound she did not want to believe: Dr. McInerney’s cackling laughter. She wasn’t sure. Maybe he was crying, too.
 

Dayo gritted her teeth so hard it hurt. If McInerney harmed the little girl, Dayo would make him beg to die. She would allow him to believe she’d kill him. Then she’d make him plead harder for death’s sweet release.

S
EASON
2, E
PISODE
2

This Plague of Days

Robert Chazz Chute

Season 2

Episode 2

Each road we take narrows our options until there is only one choice.

*

“Your argument makes sense if you accept the supposition that everyone’s an idiot but you.”

“If you aren’t all idiots, how did we get here?”

*

Civilization is short. Somewhere out there, an alien is looking at the stars wondering if there’s intelligent life in our galaxy.

We know the answer. We had a brief shot at escaping to the stars and living forever. We blew it.

~ Notes from The Last Cafe

*

“So spake the Fiend…”
 

Milton, Paradise Lost, IV, 393

*

So bad a death argues a monstrous life.

~ William Shakespeare, Henry VI

A
DAM
IS
THE
FIRST
OF
THE
WORST

T
he doctor’s voice shook. “I’m a virologist working in cooperation with the World Health Organization. My name is Dr. Craig Sinjin-Smythe and if I don’t get to New York soon, my baby will die. If I don’t get to the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, everybody dies.”

The policeman’s eyebrows shot high. He stared at the doctor for a moment before holstering his weapon.
 

“Well. That was easy,” Aadi said.

The cop made a sour face. “You fellows have cocked up your job so badly, it’s obvious you aren’t smart enough to be a couple of hardened criminals.”

Sinjin-Smythe almost laughed. “Have you heard what happened in London?”

“Everybody’s heard who still has a working radio and a government that allows them to use it. By the looks of you, you have stories to tell.”

“We do,” Aadi said, “but can you help us pilfer some supplies so we can go save the world from the zombie menace?”

The cop didn’t hesitate. He opened the car door and pulled Sinjin-Smythe from his seat. “C’mon. I’ve been working on that very thing. We have to hurry. This new disease, whatever it is, is in Dublin. Been speaking with some friends. They’ve been pulled into emergency service. No one knows how it’s spreading so fast, but it’s happening. It’s every paranoid fantasy come true.”