Yellow Death: Arrival: Surviving the plague was only the beginning (The Yellow Death Chronicles Book 1)

by Peter Hall

  “Relax John. This will be fun. Have you had much to drink?”

  “Just a little. I’m not sure I—”

  Aarika unbuttoned his jacket and began to slip his clothing off.

  “If you are to be sick, there is washroom next door,” she pointed to a door. “If you are sick in here, I have to charge extra, for the cleaning and lost time, you understand?”

  “I-I’m not going to be sick.” He thought he might be sick.

  Aarika helped him off with his clothes until he stood naked before her. ‘John Junior’ was fast asleep. John’s face flushed with embarrassment.

  Aarika stood in front of him. She was wearing a sleek red dress that went down to her ankles and was slit up the sides to reveal her smooth thighs. In one easy, practised manoeuvre, she slid the straps over her shoulders and the dress dropped to the floor, leaving her naked, save for a red jewelled thong. John’s eyes gaped open, and he swallowed hard. Despite fear and anxiety, he felt a stirring between his legs.

  “Now, John,” she whispered into his ear. “You are going to have to do better than that.”

  She walked behind him and began running her hands up and down his body, frequently visiting his member. Aarika was a professional, an expert in the art of arousal, and had never given a refund for lack of satisfaction. Wherever her fingers roamed, his skin tingled in response and he involuntarily let out a whimper. After a couple of minutes, John’s cock was fully functional and Aarika proceeded to expertly unroll a condom over ‘John Junior’.

  Aarika moved to stand in front of him and slid her arms around his neck. Her breasts rubbed against his chest. “Now, listen. This is important. Put your hands wherever you want, yes? But not your lips. No kissing. You understand, yes? If you try to kiss me, I call security.” She pointed to the large red button beside the bed.

  John nodded and gulped. Aarika pulled him on top of her and onto the bed. He felt her smooth, warm skin start to gyrate rhythmically against him, igniting primitive passions.

  Oh… My… God!

  Twenty minutes later, John appeared from Aarika’s room, grinning like a squirrel in a nut factory. His shirt buttons were undone to the waist. Only Stuart was waiting for him.

  “How’d it go, mate?”

  “Bloody marvellous. I can’t believe it. I want to do it again.”

  John was in love. Aarika was a goddess. He had asked for her email address and telephone number.

  “Don’t be silly,” she had replied. “Go back to England and find yourself a nice English girl. And never, never, tell her about this night.”

  John and Stuart met up with Danny and Martin near the entrance. They had gone on the prowl whilst John was being initiated. Finding they only carried enough cash for one of them to be entertained created some consternation until Danny played a trump card by reminding Martin of his girlfriend waiting back home.

  Without money for a taxi, the lads began the long walk across the city to rendezvous with the coaches. John managed to stumble a hundred meters before vomiting his last few pints of beer down his legs and onto the pavement.

  So it was that John Callaghan-Bryant lost his virginity at aged twenty-seven, thanks to a massive intervention by his army buddies. However, next day he could remember little about it, except for Aarika’s face which would be impressed on his memory forever.

  CHAPTER 16

  Cal & Juliet

  TIMELINE: 15 months after Yellow Death

  “Can there be a love which does not make demands on its object?”

  Confucious (551–479 BCE)

  For the first days after Cal and Juliet joined forces, they remained as separate units. At the start of each day, they packed their respective possessions into their own SUVs. They slept in their own tents and travelled in their own vehicles. During the day, they both worked on a mutually agreed project. The evenings were spent planning the following day, cooking and eating together. This was when they would chat and learn from each other. Cal began showing Juliet how to use and maintain firearms, as well as the habits he followed to survive in an unforgiving world. In return, it fascinated him to learn about Juliet’s plans for medical care in the future—including her ideas for surgery using only basic equipment. Both began to relax and develop a joint routine, although it would be more correct to say that Juliet learnt how to fit into Cal’s routine.

  After one particularly long and tiring day, they sat by the campfire in the dark. In order to finish and seal a cache of medical supplies, they had worked later than usual. Heavy cloud cover obscured the moon and stars but, in addition to the cheerful fire, six wind-up battery lanterns illuminated their camp site.

  Juliet sat on a cushion with a blanket over her shoulders. She watched as Cal laid out a small plastic sheet to clean his rifle. “This is cosy.”

  Cal looked around. “Yes. I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re right.”

  “I do appreciate the extra lights. Thanks.”

  Cal smiled at her. “No problem.” On the second night together, Juliet had set out lanterns. Cal commented it was wasteful, since even rechargeable batteries had a limited lifespan. However, he retracted when he saw the look on her face. Juliet noticed that where their security was affected, Cal was pretty rigid, but otherwise he went out of his way to make her welcome.

  A pot of water bubbled over the fire. Juliet dropped two pouches of army ‘Meal Ready to Eat,’ ration packs into it. “Two delicious madras curries coming up in exactly eight minutes.” She pressed the timer button on her wristwatch. “What would you like to do tomorrow? We’ve been storing medical supplies since we met. Now it must be your turn?”

  Cal was kneeling on the plastic sheet, with parts of his SA-80 laid out in front of him. He rubbed a long metal rod with an oily rag.

  Juliet waited for Cal to answer her question. She was aware that Cal spent a lot of time in his own world. When focused on a task, he became oblivious to his surroundings. Juliet had seen this many times in autistic children. She had learnt to attract their attention before speaking. If she intended to stay with Cal long term, she would need to get into the habit of doing it again. It was quirky, but there were worse faults to have. “Cal, did you hear me?”

  Cal looked up. “Sorry, what?”

  She smiled. “I asked what you wanted to do for the next few days. Isn’t it about time we collected some more of your weapons?”

  “Oh, I see. Right. Well, for a start, I don’t regard them as my weapons. I’ve always treated them as a sort of communal resource to which I’m the custodian. You know, making sure they don’t get into the wrong hands.”

  “Sorry, I stand corrected, Mr Pedantic. But my question still stands.”

  “To be honest, I think I’m done with collecting weapons. I’ve got enough to equip a small army and they’re getting hard to find locally. Devon was hardly the military hotspot of the UK and I prefer not to travel long distances anymore. There’s no point storing more ammo than will get used in the next, say, twenty years. After then it’ll become unreliable. The worst sound in the world is pulling the trigger in combat and hearing nothing but a click.”

  He returned to his rifle cleaning.

  Juliet nodded. “Fair enough.” She noted that when he was speaking, he stopped cleaning his rifle, seemingly unable to do two things at the same time—another feature she often saw with autism. “So, shall we concentrate on medical stuff for a couple of weeks?”

  A few seconds elapsed before he looked at her with a surprised expression. “Weeks?”

  “What?”

  “You said, ‘weeks’.”

  “Yes, I did, didn’t I? Has that scared you? The fact that I’m talking about us being together for weeks?”

  Cal’s hands had stopped moving again, and he appeared to be deep in thought.

  “No. Not at all. It’s just… Well, I’m surprised. I didn’t know how you were feeling about us… I mean, about the arrangement. I was concerned that one night you’d tell me you were ready for us to
go our separate ways?”

  “Really? You were worried that might happen?”

  He dropped the metal rod and rag, then sat back. This was obviously something that demanded his full attention.

  “Well, yes. I didn’t know what you thought of me. About all my security procedures and habits and stuff. I’ve tried to fit in with your needs, but I wasn’t sure if it was enough. I know I’m pretty weird.”

  “Oh, Cal, what it must be like to be inside your head. Haven’t you noticed that I’ve been having a great time? Yes, you’re a little… unusual. You wouldn’t win any prizes for conversation, but I think we’re getting along fine and travelling with you is far more pleasant than being alone. I feel safe with you and you’re the first person I’ve met that I can say that about.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Oh. You think that? That’s great. I’d no idea. So you want to carry on travelling together, like, sort of permanent?”

  Juliet grinned widely. “Don’t get carried away. I’m not ready for wedding vows yet, but I would say that our trial period has been a success and we need to start making some longer-term plans. If that’s okay with you?”

  “Yes, please!”

  Juliet’s wrist watch beeped. “Great. Dinner is served.”

  She fished the pouches out of the water with her fingers. “Ow, ow, hot, hot, hot.”

  “No kidding, Sherlock. Shall I call a doctor?”

  They cut open the pouches and ate the curry out of them with spoons. Cal used the boiling water in the saucepan to make mugs of tea.

  “This stuff is actually quite tasty,” Juliet said. “It’s nicely spiced. How are they nutritionally?”

  “Not too bad. MREs were never intended to replace normal food long-term, but tests on soldiers living off these meals for weeks have showed no adverse effects.”

  Juliet sipped her tea. “How long do they last before they go off?”

  “Most of them have a three-year use by date, but that’s conservative. If they’re stored properly—the cooler the better—they should last over ten years. That’s one reason why I’m hiding them away in cool dark places. A handy tip is that you can tell if they’ve gone bad because the pouch becomes bloated.”

  “Well, that’s something I’ll definitely look out for. I don’t want to live through the greatest pandemic in the planet’s history, only to be killed by a dodgy curry.”

  Cal placed a pile of boxes into the trailer of his Land Rover. It was parked outside the main entrance of North Devon District Hospital in Barnstaple. The large turfed traffic island in front of the entrance had grown into a miniature jungle. Before the Yellow Death, the hospital had been the primary medical hub of north and mid-Devon, although compared to city hospitals, it was small. The modern buildings were only three storeys high and laid out over a wide area with lawns and trees.

  Cal took several long breaths of the cool, clear air to flush his lungs of the foul musty smell that hung inside the buildings. Juliet came out moments later and did the same.

  The day was cold, cloudy, and dry. An east wind brought a further chill to the air, and they both wore thick coats and gloves.

  They were now sharing the Land Rover. It had been a difficult decision for Juliet to give up her SUV and combining all their kit into one vehicle had been a struggle. Nevertheless, fuel was becoming hard to find and running two vehicles was an extravagance. The Rover was the obvious choice because it had greater carrying capacity and, of course, Cal had modified it to offer extra safety.

  Juliet jumped up and down, swinging her arms to warm up. “Fucking hell, I hate this.”

  “Maybe the hospital wasn’t such a good idea?”

  “It was a good idea, but I must admit I’m struggling with the practicalities of it.”

  In the war against the Yellow Death, hospitals had been the battlegrounds. It had been a short and very one-sided war. Hospitals became no more than morgues piled high with bodies. Towards the end, people died wherever they happened to be lying and there was nobody to move them. Thus, the survivors of the pandemic avoided hospitals—they were gruesome and contained little of value.

  Nevertheless, last evening, Juliet suggested the nearest hospital might be worth investigating for medical supplies. Cal had been surprised.

  “You’re kidding right?” he’d said. “Surely the hospitals used all their medications fighting the plague?”

  “Not necessarily. Stuff like I.V. drips will have been used up, but many meds were useless against the plague, so there should be plenty left. I’m hoping we might even find antibiotics.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes way. Listen, where I worked, we gave the first patients antibiotics as suggested, but they literally had no effect. Most people died so fast, the drugs never had a chance to work. Then we had a memo come round telling us to stop prescribing them because they needed to be saved.”

  Cal frowned. “Saved for what, for God’s sake?”

  “I don’t know. Then we had another directive saying all pharmaceuticals should only be given to medical staff. It was total chaos. Patients and relatives were getting angry. The staff were dropping like flies. Those left standing spent more time doing crowd control than anything else. Even if we wanted to prescribe antibiotics, there were no staff to do it. We ran out of beds, then trolleys, then chairs. After that, we laid people on the floor in the corridors. It got so bad, we couldn’t even get to some patients. There’s no way you could understand how desperate we were. It was bedlam… confusion… mayhem. There was nothing we could do to help.”

  Juliet became quiet, her face downcast. She blinked as though trying to hold back tears.

  “And you want to go back into one of those hell holes?”

  “I don’t want to, but I think it’s worth a look. They may be a goldmine.”

  Juliet was right, and they found the pharmacy well stocked. There was even a delivery van from a drugs company parked outside the hospital. The pharmacy was situated near the main entrance, so they did not have to venture far inside the building. Nevertheless, the stench was dire and, in the reception area, dessicated bodies were scattered around on gurneys, or sitting slumped, mummy-like in chairs—waiting for medical help that never came. A large whiteboard stood just inside the doorway with the message ‘GO HOME’ printed in large capital letters. Underneath, somebody had scribbled ‘Fuck you’.

  “Have you seen the ‘Use By’ dates on these boxes?” Cal said. “Some are only a year ahead.”

  Juliet nodded. “I know. Don’t worry, that’s okay. It’s like the expiry dates on your ration packs—they’re ultra cautious. Those dates are when the manufacturer guarantees the drugs will still be one hundred per cent effective. Most drugs are still effective ten or more years past the ‘Use By’ date if they’re stored properly. Otherwise, what I’ve been doing for the last year would be a complete waste of time.”

  A chill breeze blew over them, and Cal pulled the zipper on his coat higher round his neck. “There’s one other thing that’s been bothering me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Imagine if you had an accident or caught an illness and died. All the medical supplies you’ve stored would never be found by anyone. They’d be lost to humanity.”

  Juliet sat on the edge of the trailer and wrapped her arms around her body. “That does concern me. I always leave some supplies behind—I never clear a place out totally. Anyone looking for drugs where I’ve been will still find something. In fact, if I find drugs stored well, then I leave them where they are and just mark the location on the map.”

  “So anybody could come along and steal them?”

  “It would hardly be stealing. I don’t own them. They’d have as much right to them as anyone. I assume that if somebody goes to the effort of taking medical stores, they must need them. Most times, though, I take the supplies and hide them somewhere secure, like we’re doing today. You must understand that prescription drugs can do more harm than good in untrained hands. If you take the
wrong drug, or the wrong amount of the right drug, you could kill someone. Honestly, it might be better if all these drugs were lost to humanity, rather than having untrained people trying to use them.”

  Cal held up an energy bar and Juliet took it gratefully. “Surely, if you have an infection, any antibiotic is better than nothing?”

  “Not necessarily. Some are broad spectrum and others work best on specific infections. If you took a random antibiotic, it might help, but at best it wouldn’t be the most effective treatment. And some have powerful side effects. If you gave Vancomycin to someone with a history of kidney problems, you’d probably kill them.”

  “Shit. I had no idea.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. There’s a reason why it takes seven years to become a doctor and even then we get called junior doctors. I used to hate that term.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “My dream is to find a settlement somewhere in mid-Devon, not far from good roads. I’ll set up a medical centre and people from all over Devon can come for treatment. With luck, we might attract a few other surviving medical staff. Either way, I plan to start training others and we all need to begin learning traditional medicine for when supplies of the modern stuff runs out.”

  “That would be brilliant if you could pull it off.”

  “It doesn’t make sense for somebody with my training to be ploughing fields and milking cows. But if I’m to get this off the ground, I’ll need a large supply of pharmaceutical supplies and equipment.”

  “Which brings us nicely back to the reason why we’re freezing our bollocks off outside this giant morgue on the coldest frigging day of the year.”

  Juliet nodded and put the last chunk of energy bar into her mouth. “It’ll be worth it. I reckon we just need two more trips to the pharmacy, and we’ll be done here. Are you ready?”