The Earth's End

by Tara Brown

  “Hey, you’re home.” Mitch smiles as he walks into the living room with a book and sits next to a candle.

  “Yeah.”

  “How was the day?” he asks, cracking the book open but keeping his eyes on me.

  “Tiring. I sorted veg and fruits all day long. And I work with these dudes that don’t want to do anything. They sit and talk all day. It’s annoying.” I take off my shoes and stretch my toes. “What about you?”

  “Same. I worked on the database again. A whole day of logging names and getting something resembling order up and running. I think they’re going to try to pull some scam, pretending the president is set up somewhere here, and make it sound like we’re a lot more organized than we are. Trying to keep the lawlessness to a minimum. They’re sending riders out like a postal service to get correspondences to places and see if there are others doing as well as we are.”

  “What?” I scoff. “The president? Who is going to believe that?”

  “We both know there are people who will. I’m not even sure the president is alive. I heard the entire East Coast is a mess. God knows who’s actually still with us from the government.”

  “Yikes.” I stroll into the kitchen to take my meds. It’s the last dose of the antibiotics. I take it and pull my shirt to the side, wincing when I see the infection is still there. I’m certain I need to see a doctor, but the perfect bite mark is not something I can show anyone. Not now that the city is rounding up the bitten. Honestly, there’s no hiding this. I can practically see Lululemon’s teeth in the wound.

  There is only one option.

  I don’t like it but it’s all I’ve come up with in the last few days.

  When I’m certain this is the only option, that or be taken by the scary military guys, I decide to ask Mitch to help.

  “Hey,” I say softly as I walk back into the living room. “Can you do me a favor?”

  Mitch’s eyes lift from the book he holds cracked in the dim light of the candle. “What?”

  “It’s crazy, but can you cut my bite off or burn the hell out of it so I can see a doctor? It’s getting worse. I can feel it. I’m sick, Mitch.”

  “What?” He sits up, closing the book and cringing. “No.”

  “Fine.” I sigh, defeated, and turn to the kitchen where the best weapons are. I have to do it before I lose my nerve.

  “Tan, don’t do this.” Mitch gets up from the chair. “It’s a terrible idea. You could end up really wounded.”

  “It’s better than dying from this infection or ending up labeled one of the bitten. Did you hear about that? They’re rounding them up.” I stare at him, hating the fear in his gaze. “I’ll do it myself if you’ll look after Mason while I run to the hospital.”

  “Hospital, what for?” Bev asks as she enters the kitchen from the back room. Jeff is hot on her heels.

  “I’m going to cut this off or burn it and get my mom to clean it, and we’re all going to pretend it’s a wound. Just a normal one.” I point at the bite. “I heard today they’re inspecting more people for bite marks, and they’re all paranoid about the ones who survived the bite. Rounding them up.”

  “I heard that too.” Jeff nods. “I heard the survivors who were bitten but lived were all electrocuted in some way during the bite. Like there’s a dude with a pacemaker, and he electrocuted the zombie as it bit him.”

  “And that reset the nanobots? They must be programmed to kill, spread and kill, and the electrocution resets them. They go back to their base programming, which is probably hibernate. Holy shit.” Mitch has it all figured out before I can get a deep breath in.

  “My mom will help me. She’s already been keeping an eye on it, cleaning it. She scrubbed it the other day to take off a bunch of dead flesh. She said it necrotized or something. Asked if I got bit by a dog. I lied and told her I did.”

  “It doesn’t look like a dog bite.” Bev lifts an eyebrow dubiously.

  “I know, that’s the problem. If I end up getting checked, or if anyone sees it, I’m in the roundup.”

  “Jesus, fine. I’ll do it,” Mitch snaps and gets up, storming into the kitchen. “We’ll cut it so the teeth marks are gone. You can say you fell and cut it on a tool in the backyard shed. There’s a virtual Tanya trap back there anyway.”

  “Thanks!” I say, adding a bit of extra attitude.

  “I’m not watching this.” Bev scowls and grabs Jeff’s hand, pulling him to the stairs. “We’ll watch Mason while you go.” They leave us alone, me and Mitch who is scouring the drawer for the correct weapon.

  “Just use anything!” I say angrily.

  “Fine!” He’s angry or scared or both. He grabs a knife, dumps some of the vodka Jeff found in the back shed on it, drinks a shot of it, and walks to me with the most intense look on his face. His eyes are fiery with rage.

  He breathes heavily three times before he grabs my shoulder, digging in with his fingers and shaking his head. He takes a second then lowers the knife.

  The searing pain of the cut is unbearable. I nearly take a knee as he filets me. A sound of crying and screaming and trying to muffle that leaves my lips and fingers but it’s noisy. My eyes flutter and for one second I am certain I’m going to pass out. I cling to the counter with one hand and muffle my face with the other, and then as fast as it started, it’s over.

  The cutting is done. Mitch rushes to the sink, he throws up, and I drop to my knees as blood pours down my arm and hand.

  My fingers are dripping blood all over the floor.

  My brain isn’t functioning.

  The pain is overwhelming and I’m gagging and crying and shaking.

  It hurts everywhere.

  And then he’s back. He has a cloth and he’s pressing it on the wound and I cry louder. He helps me up and drags me from the house.

  “Hold this!” he snaps and presses my hand on the rag. I’m blind with pain and tears.

  He lifts me and carries me, running as fast as he can to the hospital which is only two blocks away. We got our house based on the fact my mom is a nurse and needs a house close to the hospital.

  He rushes the doors. Blood has seeped through the cloth, and people are asking questions.

  He sounds panicked, my mom is hurrying over. She’s upset.

  Mitch says, “Tripped and sliced.” And it’s all I catch.

  Mom is upset and I’m in a room with a bed and a man is looking at it. He winces and says something to Mom.

  She hurries off. Her footsteps are loud on the floor, despite all the other patients.

  Mitch is taken by another man; they leave me with a nurse I don’t know. She’s applying pressure and I’m still sort of crying. I don’t know if it’s pain or fear or what.

  The man comes back, he pulls the cloth back and nods. He says, “Antibiotics too,” and he’s gone.

  It’s a whirlwind of moving and talking and cleaning and needles and bandaging. When they’re done, I’m numb on the side where the bite is but my whole arm is covered in blood.

  Mitch hasn’t come back and my mom hasn’t either.

  I’m sitting on the bed, staring at the puddle of my blood on the floor. It doesn’t move. It’s an old-fashioned puddle. It just sits there and glistens.

  A guy comes in, he’s loud and talking and annoying. He’s a patient I think too. He sits across from me, his reflection in the red puddle.

  When no one else is there, he leans forward and the puddle loses him so I lift my face.

  His eyes dart to my wound and he smirks. “Tried to cut the bite mark off? It won’t work. It heals right up. The bots heal you. They’re going to know.” He’s smug. But he doesn’t know me.

  “I’m not bitten,” I lie.

  “Yes, you are. I feel it on you. But it’s different. Like my bots know you have bots, but they don’t speak.”

  “What?” I am so lost. And how does he know so much?

  “I’m Liam,” he says and I have a bad feeling. A bad feeling about him, and me.

  16<
br />
  Nine months later

  Lou

  Lee’s smug grin flashes at us across the field as we make our way to her with the riders behind us.

  I’m trying to take it all in but the image of Erin telling me to kill her sister if I have to runs through my head on repeat. Despite every sound echoing in my ears: the crunching of the grass, the guards’ horses breathing too heavily, the heartbeats amongst us blending and mixing, all creating a tempo. I take a deep breath of the warm breeze, noting the sun feels hotter even though we’re more north.

  The bots in my blood are working hard to save me from the anxiousness I’m drowning in. I’ve wanted to see Lee, rescue Lee, help Lee from the moment I tried to convince her not to become one of us. I was angry with her for choosing that fate, but I never imagined this would happen. That she would change this much, or this would be how we’d find her.

  She doesn't appear to need any saving. Or want it.

  The glinting crown on her head and the way she welcomes us, as if this is her house and we’re coming for dinner, is creepy. It’s ominous for sure.

  “Princess Lee, your guests have arrived,” one of the guards on the horses shouts at her as we get closer, as if our arrival isn’t completely obvious. She’s right in front of us.

  “Welcome, friends and family.” She holds her arms out as she walks to us. She’s so different I would think Erin had taken over her body. Cocky and confident and weird. The glint in Lee’s eyes is not her own. Liam has done something to her and I’m going to kill him for it.

  “Look, pod bitch, give me back my sister,” Erin says bitterly. She is ready to fight.

  “Erin, don't.” I put a hand on her tensed arm, nervous of how her fingers ball.

  “Listen to Lou, Erin,” Lee teases, trying to rile her sister up.

  Erin’s vibrating, probably with the desire to choke and kill. It’s her MO and something that’s hardly altered since the changeover. Her desire to end lives barely dulled after the bots. She has mellowed just enough to control some of her rage.

  “Lou, why don't you come with me?” Lee offers her arm as she gets close enough. “King Liam wants to see you. The rest of you should tour the grounds. It’s pretty awesome here. You can pick out a spot to build your house. I have some pull with the man.” She winks. “Maybe I can get you bumped up the list.”

  “Why would anyone want to live here?” Erin scoffs.

  “I want the tour too.” I stop walking and change the subject before they fight over building locations. Everyone else stops too. We’re in some weird standoff that's making my stomach tingle with alarms.

  “Oh, you’ll get the tour. King Liam can’t help but brag about it.” She rolls her eyes and for a second I see Lee. Old Lee. Maybe she isn’t completely lost in her Stepford body. Maybe I don't have to kill her. Maybe if I just get her alone, I can try to figure out how to get him out of her head.

  “Fine,” I agree and follow, not taking her arm.

  “Lou,” Kyle warns with his tone.

  “I’ll be okay, trust me.” I turn back to everyone, shaking my head at Kyle who has that gleam in his glare, the one suggesting he will be following me.

  “We’ll wait for you.” Leah grabs Kyle’s arm, holding him back.

  Miles almost takes a step forward but I scowl. “For reals, give me a minute.” I put a hand up and quickly dart my eyes to Lee, hinting that I’d love to be alone with her.

  “A minute,” Leah agrees. “The rest of us will take the tour. I’ve never seen a castle before. This is kinda awesome. A castle in Canada, who knew?”

  “Right! I’ll see you in a minute.” I turn and follow Lee, hurrying to catch up with her.

  “So what’s new?” Lee asks, as if this is a hallway at school and life couldn't be simpler—instead of a field in front of some half-built castle behind a huge wall with the large gate doors open. It reminds me of something you’d find in the middle of Scotland or England, not Canada.

  “Lee, why are you with Liam? Why didn't you want to come home with us? He’s in your head—”

  “What home, Lou?” She laughs, sounding completely bitchy. “King Liam said you guys would go to some place called Cashmere, and you would stay there, but that it wasn't a safe place for us. And he knew you would eventually find your way here to see us. I mean he did invite you after all.”

  “Lee—”

  “Lou.” She stops and turns, grabbing me by both arms and squeezing slightly. “Just give him a chance, okay? Promise? Actually listen to what he has to say!”

  “Why is he building a castle?” I ignore her questions and change the subject.

  “Because he’s a king, why else? And this is the new republic. Canada and the US will be one, with one leader and no more party politics or voting or costs to the people or corrupt senators. He’s the only leader we need.” She says it all with a laugh, maybe thinking it’s a common-sense explanation.

  As we near the gate, my stomach tenses as the bots try to soothe me. I stop walking and gape at the army in front of us. He wasn’t kidding.

  They’re zombies.

  All of them.

  They’re building the wall and the castle beyond it.

  “He’s actually controlling the zombies?” My mouth dries with the hot wind seeing so many of them surrounding us. It’s exactly how he said it would be. He has done everything he said he could and would. The hum coming off them is incredible. My skin ripples with the mass recognition. I lift an arm and notice the hairs standing on end.

  “Yeah. He’s a genius.” She sighs as though she means dreamboat. “He put out a call for them. They’ve been joining us for months. Coming from all over America.” She points to the left side of the castle where the tree line is, making my eyes widen to the point they strain. The edge of the forest is lined with the undead. A massive stream of them are slowly making their way here, staggering and stumbling and moving with whatever they have left in them. The bots driving them forward, all heading to one location. This one.

  “What the hell?”

  “It’s a siren call. Jacquard made it up and blasts it from the towers at the perimeters of town at night for twenty minutes. The bots hear it and blast it too. They share it, spreading it with their mouths. Eventually, he should be able to make it so the bots all update and communicate with one another better. Instead of recognizing the hum or the signal, they’ll share information.”

  His plan, Liam’s evil scheme, hits me like a piece of wood to the side of the head.

  It’s as he said, he controls the bots.

  He controls us.

  He is controlling Lee.

  She is a pod bitch. He is actually controlling her.

  Holy shit.

  He is bringing back the internet, but we are the connection. We are the modem. And the joke he made about it all wasn’t a joke.

  My brain does laps, moving in a way it never has before, finding truth in her words and almost justifying his actions with common sense that adds up too quickly. The bots want me to like this plan. To see the merit in it. But I don’t. I see slaves and mindless victims. Including my friend.

  “Smart, huh?” She smiles and starts walking toward the large dark gates built into the arch of the doorway.

  “Smart,” I agree but I’m not happy he’s so clever. I want to be terrified but that emotion isn’t really available to me.

  I know I need to see Liam and assess how to end this, but when we get inside the gates, I almost turn and run.

  The grounds are flooded with the undead and dead and the smell is unbearable.

  A mountain of dead animals sits in the middle of what might someday be a courtyard. A circle of biters is around it, eating, gnawing at the carcasses.

  “He has them rotate. They eat every five hours. Drink every two hours.” She nods at the trough where the undead are drinking with their faces in the water, like some kind of freak show.

  My skin crawls but I can’t stop staring at what’s before me.

/>   It’s insane and yet completely brilliant. Horribly genius.

  “He’s caring for them—you see that, right? They eat and drink and rest. No one hurts them. They build and clean and hunt. They’re smart and it’s not their fault they’re this way. It’s not any of our faults.” She loses some of that smugness and sounds like normal Lee. She might actually believe in this without his Stepford programming. “Why shouldn't they have something resembling a life? They were all people once. They deserve to be taken care of. So there are massive barns being built where they will live. And this will be a beautiful courtyard.”

  We pass them unnoticed, as always. We are one of them in some twisted sense.

  “Where’s Harold.” I ask snidely.

  “I don’t know. He left one day and we haven’t seen him since.” The lack of care in her voice is opposite mine. I wanted to kill Harold, which I’m sure is why he left. He knew eventually I would be here and I would want blood.

  The front steps to the castle are decorative concrete, poured and formed to look almost like brick but not. It’s smooth and has no real seams.

  The front door is elaborately carved wood with cast iron hardware.

  She points at the doors. “The bots made this art. Jacquard can program them to do anything he wants, but they have to be connected. We’re working on the wireless. And that’s not all. The clean ones cook and clean and are inside.” Two of the biters dressed in regular clothes, not tattered at all, open the heavy dark wooden doors for us. They make a slight creak as they expose a bustling interior.

  Maids, builders, cleaners, and normal people like Lee move in a constant stream, almost like traffic in the old world. They ignore the others around them, doing their work only. But something is off. They move too fluidly.

  It dawns on me what’s missing. Personalities.

  They’re nearly dead inside, expressionless and cold, unable to see the others around them, stuck on their tasks. They’re robots. Ants. This is an anthill.

  “Come on!” Lee hurries inside. She’s the only bit of color and vibrancy in this castle. The only animated person besides the guards who rode out to us. It’s as if Liam left some of Lee’s personality behind when he changed her. Or maybe he tried to make her programming as accurate as possible. That’s even creepier.