The Plague Runner

by Burgy, P. J.

  “You fucking bitch!” Jeep straddled her and punched her in the side of the face. It hurt. It was loud too. Kara was blinded by the pain and felt him grabbing at her throat. She felt his fingers wrap around her neck, she felt them tighten.

  There were sounds of movement from downstairs, and the dog was barking.

  Kara felt the world drift as Jeep strangled her.

  A shriek in the night. Then another and another.

  Voices came from downstairs and then someone burst into the room. It was someone new, another big, burly man. His eyes were huge, terrified. “Jeep! Jeep, you fucking idiot!”

  She was suddenly able to breathe again as she was released, and she fell to the side as Jeep stood up and backed away from her.

  Kara coughed, taking in deep gasps of air.

  “I- she tricked me, Ben. She tricked me,” Jeep sputtered.

  “They're coming, you idiot. You've killed us all.” The man named Ben ran from the room.

  Her throat aching and her vision still spotty, she grabbed for her machete, fingers wrapping around the handle. She continued cutting at the zip-ties, taking advantage of the precious seconds she had been given as Jeep stumbled over to look out into the hall. When she finished, she came up behind him and raised the machete.

  For a moment, she considered bringing her blade down on the distracted Jeep. If she made it quick, he might not even make a sound. When he did turn to gawk at her, his eyes went to her raised knife and he jolted back. It was at that exact instant that the sound of glass shattering, wood snapping and cracking, rippled up from downstairs, and the shrieks of the Wailers deafened Kara. They were inside the house. Gunfire, rapid and sharp, followed.

  Jeep staggered away down the hall.

  The next few moments were a blur as she lunged for her backpack and threw it over her shoulder. She grabbed her flashlight, her heart pounding in her ears, somehow managing to be louder than the gunfire and the screaming just below her. Leaving the room was suicide, and she had to think fast.

  Leo cried out. “Turn on the floods, you idiot!”

  Outside, a bright purple light appeared and Kara heard the Wailers shrieking in pain. She ran to the window, looking down at the front yard. The rover vehicle had two, long strips of UV tube lights on the roof and they'd been activated. The area the light covered was wide enough to keep the Wailers outside from getting to the windows, but the ones inside of the house were still clashing with the Brethren downstairs.

  Some of the Wailers swept around to the right, most likely coming around the back. They were stupid, but stupid in the way that an animal was stupid. They ran from what hurt them, but wouldn't give up trying to get at their prey. They could smell meat inside the house and wanted in.

  She looked left, to the tree beside the house, with the branch so close to the bathroom window. Then, Kara looked down at the front yard again and saw that the UV light bathed the entire lower trunk of the tree in purple. Taking in a deep breath, she bolted for the bathroom. Downstairs, there was screaming, more glass breaking, the gunfire finished.

  Kara heard a cry and looked to the bedroom door, saw Jeep there, grabbing for the door frame. Then, he was pulled away, back into the hall, screaming. She opened the bathroom window, saw that the branch was close enough to reach, and carefully crawled out. Behind her, a high, keening screech rang out.

  She edged her way to the trunk and then climbed up. She went five or so feet higher, finding a thick branch to straddle, before she had the nerve to glance back down at the house. Nothing had come bursting out of the bathroom window after her, and none of the things running around on the UV soaked ground had noticed her. They were too preoccupied with the screaming meat downstairs.

  She clung to the trunk, trying to keep her breathing paced, quiet. The cries of the Wailers grew less frequent, their voices disappearing into the night, replaced by the crunching of bones and ripping of flesh. She shut her eyes, fingernails digging into bark. Judging by the color of the sky, it would be hours before dawn came.

  Kara waited in the tree until the horizon began to brighten, until the Wailers all began to run off into the night. A few may have remained in the house, but with the sun rising, they would stay there now for rest of the day.

  Her body felt sore, her hips aching from straddling the branch for so long.

  She climbed down, her limbs quivering, her hands unsure. She slipped once, catching herself and then continuing down to the ground. From there, she could see the gaping hole in the side of the house where the windows had once been. The UV lights on the rover were still glowing, but the headlights had dimmed considerably. The power would run out soon, she thought, as she approached the windows and tried to peer inside. She couldn't see a thing through the dark tinted glass. Trying the hatch door, she found it locked. There would be no scavenging the vehicle.

  She walked about ten feet before needing to stop, to exhale, to take in a breath. The air stunk. She took her backpack off, had some water, and then threw the straps back over her shoulders. The ground was wet from the storm the day before, the air cool and damp. The sky was cloudless.

  When she reached the road leading away from the neighborhood, she rolled her shoulders and started off toward Blue Lagoon, her eyes trained ahead. Hearing the sound of something clapping on the asphalt behind her, she turned to see a familiar, black and tan form. It was the dog, trotting after her, his tongue hanging from his mouth and his tail wagging.

  “You lucky, little son of a bitch.”

  The dog came up to her, excited, and tried to lick her hands. She dropped down to pet the animal, grabbing at his face and staring him directly in the eyes.

  “You better not follow me, you got that?”

  The dog tried to lick her face.

  “Shoo.” She stood up and began to jog.

  The dog continued to follow after her, bounding along at her side. She sighed and kept on her way.

  After some time had passed, she stopped to drink water and, despite muttering at the dog, shared some of her water with him. He was bouncing around her, bumping her legs, wagging his tail. She leaned against a tree, looking at the dog, and narrowed her eyes at him.

  He sat down expectantly and tilted his head at her.

  “So I guess you want to come with me, huh? After you tricked me? You were just a trap, weren't you, buddy?” She smirked at the dog. He stood up again and whined. “Trap. Yeah. That's a good name for you, you little asshole.”

  Trap bumped her with his head.

  “Well, Trap, you're with me now. Come on. Let's go home.”

  She ran alongside the dog for many miles, forcing herself to go on. She would be there soon, but it didn't feel like soon enough. For the first time in a long while, she looked forward to going home.

  Chapter Three

  It was mid-morning when she saw the high walls of Fort Blue Lagoon come into view, blurry and wavering on the far horizon before her, like a mirage. The sun gleamed off of the sheet metal, and, for a moment, Kara imagined a great silver castle from a children’s book she had seen once, years ago. Relief washed over her. She knew every tree, every boulder, every landmark along the way, and not once had she felt as appreciative as she did now, at this moment, to see Blue Lagoon.

  She’d been running hard for the last few miles and could run no longer, slowing to a jog, and then to a brisk walk. Blue Lagoon grew closer and closer, and though she was tempted to run again, she had too little energy left. The breeze was comforting, the heat just beginning to rise. Today was going to be scorcher for sure, but that would be in the afternoon. Right now, it was warm but tolerable. Above her, the sky was pure blue, hardly a cloud to be seen.

  The weather had stayed fair, and she counted her blessings. Every muscle, every bone, every fiber in every part of her body ached. She’d even broken a sweat, though it had more to do with the lack of sleep than exertion. One could go a long time without sleep, but it took a toll on the body.

  She pressed on, Trap at her sid
e. The flatlands spread out before her, the last hill she’d crested now far behind. To the west of Blue Lagoon, she could see rolling green hills, the trees cut down long ago to build the fort, and to the east, the untamed fields of tall grasses and wild flowers. The road to the fort was crumbling, grass growing up through the breaks in the worn blacktop. On her right, about two hundred yards from the walls, she passed a patch of charred earth in the field, the fires long extinguished. The open pit a few yards away was in the process of being filled with dirt.

  Closer to Fort Blue Lagoon, she passed the fort memorial yard on her left. The graveyard with no graves. Instead, burnt piles of wood, laid out in planks or in dry branches, covered those who had died within the walls. Their names had been engraved into large stones at the head of each pyre. The grass needed tending to, growing tall and unruly. She looked up, squinting, and held a hand to her eyes.

  The guard on the wall had seen her, as had the guard up in the front tower. She could see their black facemasks pointed her way. The tower guard, forty feet in the air in their little wooden nest, leaned over the side of the guardrail, their rifle slung over their shoulder. It was a better gig than being on the wall, out in the sun, out in the elements. The tower guard had a roof above their head at least, which made the forty-foot climb up the ladder worth the trouble. While rotation wasn’t always guaranteed, the guards were always there, always on duty, and she waved to them. They knew her, and, when their masks came off, she would know them as well.

  She called out, stopping ten feet from the front gate. “Fort hail!”

  The guard on top of the wall responded, waving a hand. “Kara!”

  She couldn’t see who it was through his riot gear, but his voice was instantly recognizable, distinctly low and husky. It was Jensen Hooper, and he disappeared, climbing down the ladder on the other side. Soon, he would be opening the door for her. She shifted her weight from foot to foot to avoid a cramp.

  Blue Lagoon had a long, seven-foot-tall solid metal door that served as the rover gate, though it was seldom used these days. Spiders had built new webs over old webs a few times over in the corners of the gateway. Kara made her way to the smaller door to the right, shaking the exhaustion from her bones as best she could. She didn’t want to look as tired as she felt. Trap padded alongside her, tongue lolling out.

  She leaned close to peer through the tiny glass peephole, calling out “Hoop! Hurry up!” as she screwed her face up and leered. Of course, her view was a blurry mess, but she could hear Jensen Hooper’s muffled laugh on the other side. The door had to be unlocked, and she heard the series of thick sliding bars being pulled to the left and lifted, clicking into place one by one. Hooper said something to someone near to him, his low voice audible but the words impossible to make out.

  It was best to amuse the security detail, because that was an unenviable job at the best of times. Hours and hours at the helm with few breaks to stretch one’s legs, staring out into the vast flat grasslands extending horizon to horizon, or stuck sitting on a stool by the front door. Within the tall walls of Fort Blue Lagoon, behind almost three feet of sheet metal, iron bars, thick lumber, and cinder blocks, the security force rotated infrequently, but diligently, they guarded not only the front gate, but the entire perimeter.

  In the towers, on the walls, watching out in every direction, ready to defend the citizens at any hour. A respectable position, but entirely too sedentary for Kara. When Hooper opened the door, she saw that he had removed his mask. He was a brave man, though a bit impetuous for his age. His expression was at first jovial but turned the instant he saw her face. Hooper had not liked what he’d seen. Kara went in, and Trap followed her after he’d given the air a few curious sniffs.

  The security corridor was a short fenced off area next to their guard shack. Past the wire fence, Kara could see that Blue Lagoon life was carrying on as usual, for the most part oblivious to Kara’s coming-and-goings, the lake-town bustling with citizens going about their day. Hooper was behind her, closing the door, fastening each sliding lock into place. She took a few moments to look around, grateful to see the place again after the night she’d had.

  The sun reflected off of the water as small waves lapped at the docks. Blue Lagoon was, aside from being the only water fort Kara knew of, just another crowded wall town with too many people. These people though, they lived out on the water.

  There were small houses and tall, multi-floored shacks all built on top of one another, every year growing another floor higher or requiring the dock and boardwalk to be extended another ten feet to make room for a new house. It was the only way to shelter so many citizens and their children, stacking their houses upward and keeping the floors small.

  Most of the tall, tin houses were built on the wooden docks of the island, a small land mass in the center of the lake, but there were also houses on the docks extending outward, thatched wooden huts and tall, shining towers of sheet metal and lumber on the spokes growing out from the hub. It was unorganized and organic, built according to need rather than plan.

  The grassy land surrounding the lake had its uses too, as anything to do with fire and welding were best kept away from the wooden structures. Out to the far right were the showers, a long building with a cement floor and many stalls, each with their own curtain and bucket. They’d built some outhouses close to the guard shack, but the nice ones were on the island.

  The massive storage shed was also kept on the dry land, far to her right. Security cabins lined the inside wall, stationed near the ladders leading twenty feet up to the sentry walkway closest to the UV spotlights, of which there were many.

  As it was a bright, sunny day so far, the solar panels were out and facing upward. She couldn’t hear the generators running. She did hear Trap yelp, and glanced down at him to see his tail wagging vigorously. Someone inside the guard shack had let the dogs out and they were quickly approaching.

  The five dogs that ran up were mixed breeds, moving like a pack. Despite Trap beginning to jump at the sight of them, these dogs were on the job and went right for Kara. She knew each dog and made sure to give a few of them a pat as they sniffed at her. Then, after they had determined her to be safe, the dogs turned to Trap and finally acknowledged him. There was some whining, some barking, but it wasn’t aggressive. In fact, they were friendly with tongues lolling out, and met with Trap excitedly. They circled one another, welcoming Trap in.

  “Made a friend, did yah?” Hooper asked, gesturing toward Trap as he held a hand up to keep the other dogs at bay. They obeyed him and backed off immediately, leaving Trap to tilt his head in what she could only assume was confusion. “By the look of yah, I guess an enemy too. You’re a day late. What happened?”

  Jensen Hooper, or Hoop to those who knew him too well, was a middle aged, handsome fellow with deep brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He was taller than Kara, but had currently dropped down to pet Trap, keeping the dog from following after his new friends, rubbing the dog’s head between his floppy ears. Hooper looked up, studying her face. He was in his riot gear, black and dull armor on the chest, shoulders and knees. His face mask was on the wooden table to the left, next to the UV flashlight. Two other security guards, their masks on, watched silently from the gated fence door.

  “Red Brethren,” she replied, shrugging. “This is Trap. Found him right around the time the Red Brethren found me, and he followed me home. Guess he’s mine now.”

  “Hey there, Trap.” Hooper continued to pet the dog for a few more moments, making eye contact with the black and tan mutt. He touched his forehead to Trap’s and then stood up, brushing the fur off of his riot gear once he was at his full height. “I guess we better wand you. Should I ask if you were exposed?”

  She smirked, hands on her hips. “That’s protocol, ain’t it?”

  “Were you exposed, Kara?”

  “I’m going to say No, Hoop, but you’ll wand me anyway. So-”

  He smirked as well. “That’s protocol, ain’t it?”
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  “Yes, sir, Captain Hooper. Gotta do it by the books.”

  Hooper sauntered over to the table, grabbed the UV light and brought it over. He turned it on, shining the purple light onto her face. He checked her eyes, Kara looking up and around as he checked her out. When he was satisfied, Hooper turned the light off. “Clean, near as I can tell.”

  “That’s good,” she said. Trap bumped up against her leg and she patted his head.

  “That’s a real shiner you got going on there.” He waved over to the two security guards by the fence gate. “You best see Dr. Hassel, I think.”

  She shook her head. “What? For this love tap? Nah.”

  “You and Gencho, both hard-headed. Old Renshen’ll say the same thing I did, and you’ll probably-”

  “-and I’ll probably say the exact same thing to him that I said to you. I’m okay, Hoop,” she interrupted him and shook her head. “It was only a matter of time before I had a scrap with those dopes.”

  “Still, you better see your dad and tell him, if not just ‘cause the Brethren are moving around closer than I like to think on, y’know? I can’t imagine you were too deep in their territory,” he said. “More likely they were close to us.”

  “Yeah, too close for comfort. I’ll tell Dad. But, enough of that. I got something for you. All of you.” Kara took her backpack off, swinging it over her shoulder. She went to the table, set it down, opened it up, and took out an apple. She offered it to Hooper, who took off and folded his gloves before placing them into a loop hanging from his belt. When he took the apple, he looked it over. She placed two more apples on the table, waving at the two masked guards. “Come on. You too.”

  “Nice. From Annie and Jim, yeah?” Hooper asked.

  “Yeah,” she replied. She smiled when she saw Hooper bite into his apple and chew.