by Tara Brown
“What?” Ms. Mara gives him a look.
“I saw it on Buzzfeed. If there was ever a pandemic or viral outbreak, large centers with airports and seaports are the worst. They always get taken over first because of travel.” Mitch makes sense, which is probably a bad sign. He always sounds a bit crazy with his conspiracy theories and talks of bunkers. I’m starting to see the light on a few things he’s mentioned before. I bet the bunker people are doing great right now.
“Where would we go?” Ms. Mara asks.
“Out into the middle of nowhere and wait and see.” Mitch shrugs. “We could find a farm and get a good radio and listen for news.”
“Let’s just go to the hotel and see if they know anything.” Louis clearly doesn't like the idea of going to the middle of nowhere. I can’t say I blame him. Finding an abandoned farm with a radio seems a bit too good to be true.
“Okay,” Ms. Mara agrees. Louis jumps into the driver’s seat and starts the bus. Him driving makes my rattled nerves light up.
“Have you ever driven a bus before?” I try not to say too loud.
“Nope,” Louis replies with a heavy sigh.
Mitch reaches over and wiggles his fingers into mine, gripping my hand. My fingers relax into his grip, but my palms sting. I didn't realize I was balling up my hands so tightly, my nails were biting into them.
He doesn't say anything. He holds my hand as Louis drives, making the bus jerk and shudder until he gets us out of the empty parking lot.
I peer back at the field and wonder how far we are from the fort we saw yesterday. Fort Rodd Hill. If we could get there maybe we’d be safe. It was built to keep things out.
That’s really all I recall from the tour.
And I only remember it now because the tour guide made a joke about the world ending and it being a safe place to be.
Could the world be ending?
3
The city streets are busy, lit up with cars driving faster than the roads are made for, skidding and screeching around us.
“Asshole,” Louis mutters under his breath as a car cuts us off, making him hit the brakes a little too hard. We jerk and grip the seats in front of us, fingers clawing in, as we take in the pandemonium around us. Accidents. People running. Shouting. All of it made worse by the darkness and inconstant lighting provided by vehicles and people.
“Left up here at the next set of lights,” Mitch says, staring at the map on his phone.
“Okay.” Louis is clearly annoyed but manages to make the left turn even with the cars trying to get around him and honking.
In a set of headlights, I see a flash of something fly by the bus, running at full speed.
I stand, watching it out the other windows as it vanishes and reappears in different lights.
It’s a man. He’s chasing someone.
A lady.
Her stark and terrified face looks back over her shoulder. She screams and pushes harder, running faster, but she can’t get away.
“Oh my God!” someone in the back shouts as another set of headlights shine on the man as he tackles the lady to the ground. She fights but he pins her, biting down on her arm as she fights him.
She screams.
He tears her flesh with his teeth, spraying blood onto his face.
We scream.
“What?” Louis shouts, clearly not seeing any of it.
“It’s here!” Vanessa screams.
The bus turns and we spin, watching the horror show until we move past a building and lose it.
Mitch lifts my hand and his, plucking his fingers from my grip, flexing for a moment before taking my hand again. I try to lessen my squeeze on him, but I can’t. I’m shaking and panicking, silently. I’ve never been much of an outward screamer.
“He bit her,” I whisper after a moment.
“I know,” Mitch also whispers.
“What are we going to do? It’s here.” God, why is it here too?
“I don't know.”
The gravity of the situation hits me, hard. I’d been confused and scared and worried, but mostly numb. Now that I’m aware, I miss being lost. Knowing what we’re facing is much worse than the uncertainty before. This isn’t a video of some random person. This is real.
The bus jerks and we’re at the hotel. The red sign of the car park is above us, flickering and casting a creepy glow on the damp cement of the lonely alley.
Louis sighs again, but this time it’s all relief. He slumps and lets go of the wheel, flexing his fingers. When he turns back to us, the stress of it all has given him a bloodshot eye that’s made worse by the red glow of the sign and the weird lighting in the bus.
“You okay?” Mitch asks.
“No, man. This is nuts,” Louis answers, his stare darting to Ms. Mara who is on the phone again. She sobs quietly, covering her eyes and whispering.
I have to assume she’s talking to her family. She’s newly divorced with two small kids. Her oldest isn’t even Mason’s age, he might be eight. “I love you too,” she says and turns the phone off, holding herself. Mitch does the same thing for her that he did for me. He lets go of me and moves into her booth, wrapping an arm over her shoulders and holding her. She sobs, losing it completely, making a few kids in the back cry.
Louis stands, maybe to speak, when there’s a bang.
Something hits the bus. Not something, someone.
We all spin, staring at the face at the door. It’s a man. He turns around and looks behind him, as if something is coming. He bangs again. “Let me in!” He sounds desperate, something we don't fully understand until the thing chasing him comes into view under the streetlights. A woman with blood all over her white sweater rushes him. He bangs and screams louder. Louis opens the door and the man jumps on, turning around as the door spins shut, trapping the woman outside.
But she doesn't give up.
She attacks, savagely. She hits and pounds on the door, shaking the bus and making us all cry out as we back up.
The man moves up the stairs slowly, not looking at any of us, his eyes lock on the person raging on the door. She moves and hits as if she feels nothing. Her skin cracks open and bleeds as she pounds harder and harder, rocking the bus back and forth with her efforts. She leaves smears of blood and bits of skin on the glass.
The man backs up right into Louis who doesn't move for him. They spoon, standing and gaping at the door. Louis clings to him.
The rest of us climb from our seats, heading to the emergency door at the back. Even Ms. Mara is with us. All eyes are on the front of the bus. Then the entrance to the alley as something moves in front of the headlights. It’s a person walking in front of the bus.
Her head jerks to the right and she sees the woman pounding on the door of the bus and runs at her, knocking into her and turning awkwardly to pound with her.
“We gotta get out of here,” the guy says, his eyes staying on the door.
“We could drive the bus somewhere else,” Louis offers.
“And go where? The streets were crazy. I guarantee roads out of the city will be nuts.” Mitch’s words are hard to hear amid the thumping. “We don't know where to go. The bus is penetrable. The hotel isn’t. I say we go for the hotel.”
“Fine, but if we make a break for it out the back, can you all run fast?” the random man asks.
Silence, beyond the pounding and grunts coming from outside.
“Hey!” he shouts, turning to face us. “Can you run fast?”
“Yeah,” we answer in unison but there is no certainty in a single voice.
“Go to the emergency door, open it carefully, and make a dash for the hotel. I’ll distract them.” He points as he speaks.
“Okay,” Louis says, taking slow steps from the guy who waves his hands in the air, keeping the attention of the crazy people. “Which door is the hotel one?” Louis asks, only turning away from the front of the bus at the last second. “Do you guys see it?”
Again, none of us speak. There’s some soft cr
ying, a few sniffles, and I’m pretty sure I heard someone praying a minute ago. I feel sick. I might actually get sick.
“Open that door silently,” the man stresses. “All of you get out quietly, then sprint as hard as you can away from here. You’ll draw them away, and I’ll make my getaway in the other direction when you’re all safe in the hotel.”
“Thanks for helping us, man,” Louis offers.
“Gotta stick together,” the guy says. “Good luck and follow the leader. Don’t panic and spread out. Get to the hotel and barricade the door,” he says as he continues waving his arms to hold the attention of the freaks outside.
A shiver of either I’m going to pee my pants or throw up hits me as Louis squeezes through the crowd of us. He bends down and puts his hands on the handle. He pauses and turns and gives us all a worried stare.
My heart feels like it might burst from my chest.
The lady monsters are still banging.
Everyone is breathing too heavily.
Louis has never looked so scared.
“Everyone, listen. We’re gonna run for that door over there—the one we came out this morning,” Mitch whispers. “Pull your hotel key cards out now so we’re ready for whoever gets there first; they can unlock it.”
We all move at the same time, pulling them from our pockets. My fingers shake so hard I almost snap the stupid plastic card in my jeans before I get it out.
Ms. Mara puts a hand on Louis’s shoulder, squeezing once as he nods then turns the handle, unsealing the bus.
The air and noise of the alley seeps in. He pushes the door, creating a soft creak. The Canadian dude in the front hits the door and makes noise, covering for us as the hinges squeak to life.
“Go!” the Canadian dude shouts, causing a commotion.
Louis jumps down first, holding the door. We move forward as a herd, everyone desperate to get out, needing to push. The first few people climb down softly but the rest start moving quicker and louder, feet slapping the concrete as they run. Mitch is in front, already hurrying to the door with his room key out. Somehow, I’ve been shoved to the back.
I’m almost off the bus when a window breaks.
“Shit!” the guy shouts, turning and running for me.
As I jump down, someone gets dragged with me. The Canadian guy leaps, landing in front of me somehow and grabs my hand as Louis grabs the other kid’s hand. They drag us forward as Mitch shouts, “Hurry the fuck up!”
We sprint, feet slapping pavement and no one trying to be quiet.
A grunt draws my eyes back over my shoulder. They’re right behind us.
The guy pulls me through the doorway.
I make eye contact with one of them in the gap.
The metal door slams shut with the sound of the impact behind it. They’re bouncing off the door, screaming and clawing and then silent.
My breath bursts from me with a gasp and I realize I’ve been holding it. Huffing for air, I turn to see the long hallway of the basement floor of our hotel behind us. The lights flicker a bit, but it’s empty. It’s where we boarded the bus this morning.
“That was intense,” Mitch whispers.
Louis walks up behind me and glances down at my legs, wrinkling his nose. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He doesn't have a chance to help me walk. My stomach unclenches and I gag, moving forward quickly and away from him. I stop at the garbage next to the ice machine and lean over it, emptying everything from my guts.
“Okay, it’s all right, Tanya,” Ms. Mara coos, rubbing my back with her shaking fingers as I continue to throw up, clutching to the sides of the bin until my legs can’t stand. I drop to my knees, gagging, gripping, and heaving one last time. It ends with a shudder and the distinct smell of pee. It takes me several minutes to realize it’s me. I’ve peed my pants. It’s in my sneakers and my socks are soaked. And it’s still warm. I want to be embarrassed but I can’t. I’m too scared to cope or care. I’m not going to make it. I’m going to die, but I won’t die. I’ll become one of them.
“Come on, kid.” The Canadian guy lifts me off the floor and helps me stand. “We gotta get above this ground level. You guys have rooms?” he asks as he helps me limp down the hallway to the elevator.
“We have eleven rooms on the fifth floor,” Ms. Mara says softly, her fingers trembling and pale, still clutching her phone.
At the elevator, we all pause, watching Louis and Mitch scan the foyer. There is no one here. It’s pleasant and quiet and just a hotel lobby.
When the elevator dings, Mitch waves an arm like we’re military, and we all hurry through the double doors after him.
In the elevator, we snuggle in, cramming well over the ten-person limit. It doesn't seem to mind the added weight, hurrying us up to the fifth floor and opening promptly.
Again, Louis and Mitch climb out, listening and looking. We all remain frozen, waiting for something bad. The girl next to me, Cynthia, whimpers and snuggles into the arms of her friend, Naira. As Louis, Mitch, and the Canadian guy wave us forward from the hall, we leave the elevator in a cluster and follow them down the right side of the hallway to our rooms. Cards are scanned and doors are opened and in moments we’re in our respective rooms.
I’m alone in mine. My roommate, Bev, isn’t here.
I press my back against the door and lose it, sliding down and sobbing on the floor.
The whole world stops spinning for five minutes as I cry and let my brain decompress. There are no explanations or possible rationalizations for this. Zombies roam the streets, eating people, and I’m in Canada, on an island. My family and friends are back home, scared and in danger.
I don't know how it can get worse, but I know it will.
There’s no chance my circumstances can possibly improve.
And they don’t.
I’m in the middle of getting dressed when there’s a knock at the door. It makes me freeze until Bev speaks through it. “Hey, Tan. Can I come in? My card’s not working.”
“Coming!” I shout back, pulling on my shirt. I unlock it and open the door slowly, double-checking. She’s with Naira and Cynthia in the hallway. They’re traveling in herds, and I’m noticing I don't really have a herd.
They’re all in earth sciences together, and most of them are friends.
I’m the only non-earth sciences student to come on the trip, and the only one who doesn't have many friends here. Mitch and Louis are as close to friends as I have with us. Both were in my chem and physics last semester, and we were lab partners for both classes. I got invited because Ms. Mara had room for one more kid, and I was ahead of everyone else in my subjects.
I wish I hadn’t come.
“Hi.” Bev sighs. “My turn to get dressed.” She hurries in, pulling off her clothes and changing into a warmer outfit and new shoes.
“So that was intense,” Naira offers meekly.
“I pissed my pants,” I admit, as if they don't already know. As if they hadn’t smelled it in the elevator.
“Yeah.” Cynthia winces. “Me too. I’ve never been scared like that before. I can’t get warm and it’s playing over and over in my head,” her voice cracks, making me feel better in a horrible sense. They are equally terrified.
“The shower didn't warm me either. And I couldn't pull the curtain back so I showered with it open and got water all over the floor.” I point at the wet floor.
“Me too,” Cynthia adds.
“I don’t know what to do. I can’t think of a single way out of this,” I admit.
“No. I mean, what are we going to do? Steal a boat and go to the mainland and steal buses so we can get from here to a border crossing near home? That’s crazy. Do any of us even know how to steal a bus?” Cynthia and I are on the same page. “Or a boat?”
“I’m ready,” Bev interrupts us as she pulls on her jacket. “Everyone’s meeting in Ms. Mara’s room. I think the decisions are being made in there.” She links her arm in mine and we all walk from the room. I check to make s
ure I have my phone and key before the door closes and follow them to our teacher’s hotel suite.
Ms. Mara’s room is double the size of ours, and already the kids and the random Canadian guy are there. He’s on the phone, pacing in the corner. “Okay, well then I guess that’s what we have to do. Hold the boat for us. Don't leave without me.” He nods. “Okay. See ya soon.” He presses the “end” button and turns to us. “My cousin has a fishing boat. He can get us out.”
“Out?” I ask, turning to Louis.
“We can’t stay on the island.” He explains, “The mainland is just as overrun but at least the roads go somewhere. Here, we’ll eventually run out of places to run. Being surrounded by water, cold water, won’t end well.”
“I agree,” Mitch says quietly.
“They change in a matter of a few minutes,” the Canadian guy mutters randomly. “I heard it was slower when it started. On the East Coast the change took a while. Here, it’s almost right away.”
“Like they’re evolving?” Mitch asks.
“Exactly. I’ve never heard of anything like it.” The Canadian mutters, “They will outnumber us soon, if they don't already.”
“Right,” Ms. Mara speaks softly, her face pale and tight with worry. “We will make for the boat. How far is it from here?”
“Fisherman’s Wharf is half a block from the hotel. And there’s a Canadian forces base across the water. My cousin is planning to drive the boat over there and see if they are taking in civilians. We just have to run to the wharf and meet him. Then we’re made.” He sounds positive. It’s a nice change from everything else the last hour and a half has entailed.
4
“Run!” the Canadian screams back at us as he sprints away. The footsteps behind us become louder.
Getting out of the hotel didn’t prove to be hard at all. But making it to the wharf is something else altogether.
Our group moves fast, feet slapping and breath gasping, but there’s a horde behind us. A scream at the back, one that’s vaguely familiar, suggests someone has been caught but I can’t look back. I can’t worry about them. I have to run. I have to follow the Canadian. If I lose him, I’m dead.
