Code Black

by Sheri Velarde

  Sara nodded and began helping. She looked over at Cameron. He didn’t seem to be much of a sailor, though he stood to help. He seemed to be moving slowly, as if in a dream. Sara feared that he was slipping back into some PSTD nightmare, but she kept quiet for now, hoping that he would once again return to himself. Mark seemed to be eyeing Cameron as well, wariness in his glances, probably thinking of the bite and their promises to the young soldier.

  Once the sails were up, they each went back to their respective silences. Mark said that they were making good time towards Jamaica. They were going around Cuba, where they didn’t expect much help. He had friends in Jamaica, and it was a good distance from the United States and hopefully from the blasted disease destroying Florida and beyond. Night began to fall, and she could see that Mark was tired. “Go, get some sleep. I can keep us on course for a few hours. You can’t stay awake for two days straight. Rest, please. You taught me to sail, so you can be sure I’m capable.”

  Mark wanted to argue, she could tell, but he nodded and went beneath anyways. She stared ahead, not able to see much of anything in the dark before her. The instruments told her that they were on track, but the nothingness before her gave her pause to wonder if anything would be different in Jamaica or if the horror of the infection would beat them there. Sure, they said they would go to South America, Europe, Africa, wherever they needed to go, but what if the virus or whatever it was always arrived there before them or right after? Doubt began seeping into her soul. For all her bravado, despair kept threatening to take over.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet since we set sail.” Cameron slipped up behind her, startling her though she tried her best to hide it.

  “Same could be said for you.” She smiled a sad smile at him. “I suppose we all need some time to adjust to what is happening, to the state of the world we now live in, time to grapple with the possible future.”

  “Yes, I guess you’re right.” Cameron grew quiet, staring off into the nothingness of the night as well. “I am starting to not feel quite right. My bite is infected at the very least. I fear that it is something far worse though. You remember what you promised me? You will follow through, won’t you?”

  Sara took her eyes off the controls and stared at her companion, someone she was fast considering a friend and basing a lot of hope on for getting through this ordeal. “I remember my promise, but I don’t think you are changing. You’re still aware and know what is going on. You are right, you have an infection. We will take care of that for you. Let’s change the bandages. We have some antibiotics in the medicine we managed to bring. It will be enough until we get to Jamaica and get you to a doctor.”

  Cameron stared at her with grief in his eyes. “Fine, but if I start to change, you must keep your word. I will not become like those things back there. I’m sure you can understand that now. That is a fate worse than death. When I go, I still want to be me and not some mindless beast killing my friends and fellow human beings.”

  “Yes.” Sara nodded, understanding his position but still denying that she would have to ever honor her promise. No, Cameron would be fine. He would be fine. She kept repeating it to herself as if to make it true. “Here, just keep us on course and going straight. I’ll go get the medical supplies.” She quickly went below deck to get what she needed.

  “Is everything okay,” Mark asked as soon as she needed the cabin, clearly not able to sleep.

  “I need to change the bandage on Cameron’s wound. He thinks it’s becoming infected,” she said, not looking at her uncle to see his reaction.

  “Is he changing?” Mark sat up, his gun clutched in his hand as he must have been sleeping with it at the ready.

  “No. It’s just an infection of the wound. He’s not a monster or zombie or whatever those creatures are.” Sara made to leave, but her uncle stood up and grabbed her arm.

  “I know that you are growing fond of Cameron. He’s a good man, a good solider no doubt, but not only do we have to think of our own safety, we also made a promise to not let him become something less than human. If it comes to that, I will do it for you, but you cannot stop it if he is indeed infected.” Mark let her go, his hand still on his gun.

  “I know!” She snapped. Sara rushed back up on deck, not wanting to think about what her uncle had said. They were just three people, bonded together in this crazy new world, and she would not lose one of her companions. She would not. They would find a doctor in Jamaica and they would get Cameron healthy. Maybe it might even be safe in Jamaica, at least for now. She hardened her resolve. She would not let despair take ahold of her heart. They would survive, she knew they would, all of them. If a higher power existed, she sent out a prayer to keep them all safe and together in this ordeal.

  When she reached out to touch Cameron, he seemed feverish. She took off the bandage over his bite wound and almost gagged. It seemed to be more than infected, it looked as if the flesh there was already dead and rotting. A greenish-yellow pus seeped from the bite. The veins beneath his skin had hardened and turned black. The skin appeared to be greying before her very eyes. The smell of decay invaded her nose, and she needed to use all her will power not to vomit on him. What she saw couldn’t be true. It had only been a few hours since the attack. She tried to hide her queasiness and poured alcohol into the wound.

  Cameron screamed in pain, shattering the silence of the night. He looked down at the bite himself. “It’s beyond any infection that I have ever seen. It is only a matter of time now.”

  “I am sure the antibiotics will help,” Sara insisted.

  She jumped when she heard Mark speak. She hadn’t even heard him come up on deck. “You let me know when the time is right Cameron. We will honor our promise.”

  Cameron nodded solemnly while tears slipped down Sara’s cheeks once more, but she said nothing. She finished bandaging the wound, handed him some antibiotics, and then said, “I think I will go rest for a while.” Her sleep was fitful, nightmares of what she’d seen replayed in her mind. The images then changed to Cameron and Mark coming after her, nothing but bloodlust in their eyes, blood dripping from their teeth, all humanness gone from them. They reached her and ripped into her body, devouring chunks of her flesh while she still lived. She awoke screaming, alone in the boat’s cabin.

  Cameron rushed in. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yes, just a nightmare. Guess that should be expected after what we have been through.” Sara sat up, shaking her head to rid herself of the images of horror that still lingered in her mind’s eye. “How are you feeling?” She went to the man she considered her friend, a man she did not want to have to kill.

  “The pain is getting worse, but Mark is optimistic that we can make it to Jamaica before we must take action. We are making good time; the wind is with us. At least we have some luck on our side.” Cameron did not seem to share in her uncle’s optimism about his situation.

  Sara stood up and went to Cameron. “My uncle is one of the best sailors I know. He will get us to land in record time, and we’ll get you to a doctor. You just need to stay with us and not give up. You’re a solider, sworn to protect those in need, and there are going to be a lot of us in need with this hell that we are now in.”

  Cameron nodded, but she could see that he did not believe her in his eyes. He had given himself up for dead, and she did not know if she could ever get him back now. Deep inside, she finally began to admit that there might be no coming back for him. She’d seen the bite, the deadness around it, and the deadness that appeared to be spreading. Even if they reached Jamaica and a hospital, who out there would be equipped to deal with such an infection? Who knew if a cure for such a bite even existed? There certainly seemed to be nothing capable of stopping the airborne disease. At the very least Cameron would lose his arm, but what if it kept spreading?

  Pushing her fears aside, she went up on deck with Cameron. Her uncle nodded at her, but had nothing to say. What could one say in such a situation? The three of them sat in silen
ce as the sun rose over the peaceful water. Out here on the ocean, one could almost believe that the world was at peace, that nothing terrible had taken hold of the world and destroyed reality as they knew it. One could almost feel happy staring out at the sea and its natural beauty. Almost.

  As the day wore on, Cameron felt worse. His fever began to spike, and the rot started to spread down his arm and up into his shoulder as well. They moved him below deck to try to make him comfortable, but soon his yells were echoing throughout the still sea.

  “We’re losing him,” Mark said matter of fact, his own sadness at the situation coming through in his tone.

  “But we’re almost to Jamaica. If we can hold out until we can get him to a doctor…” Sara trailed off, not even believing her own hope, yet unwilling to give it up either. “He may lose his arm, but…”

  “Sara, time to stop pretending. We’ve always lived in a harsh world, but this new world is even harsher. We have to do as we promised. We can’t let that young man in there suffer any more. I think the only reason he hasn’t said the word is because of you. He’s writhing in pain in order to keep you from agonizing over him in a different way. We need to keep our promise.” Mark became adamant.

  Deep down, Sara knew that her uncle was right, but the thought of shooting Cameron, even to put him out of his misery, felt wrong. She liked him. Hell, if they had met in other circumstance, she could have really liked him, maybe even in a romantic sort of way. He was such a decent man, and those were so hard to come by nowadays. Just then he screamed again, the sound wrenching at her heart. “You’re right. We can’t let him suffer like this.” She silently let her hope for him go, wiping a stray tear from her eyes.

  Steeling her nerves and her heart, Sara went down to check on Cameron. Her uncle made sure her gun was at the ready, just in case more than pain caused the screaming, in case Cameron had turned. The screams became deafening inside the small cabin. Cameron’s eyes were open, but he didn’t seem to be seeing anything in front of him. Tentatively, she walked to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

  He jerked away from her touch, frightened and confused, but finally recognition seeped into his eyes. “Sara. The pain, it’s spreading. I feel as if my very blood is made of lava. I’m starting to lose my mind, I won’t be myself soon. I can’t last much longer.”

  She nodded. “I know. I came to tell you that Mark and I are willing to fulfill our promise to you whenever you say it is time.” A tear slid down her cheek again, unchecked.

  Cameron raised a feverish hand to brush it away. “Let Mark do it. You are too kind of a soul to have to do something like this. Killing changes a person, and I don’t want that to happen to you. Thank you for keeping your promise though. I want to die while I am still me. I wish we could have met somewhere else, under different circumstances. You are the kind of woman I could have taken home to my mother.”

  Sara leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. “I feel the same about you. I’m so sorry, Cameron.”

  He struggle to his feet, his movements labored and jerky. He reached for something on the small table and almost fell over. “If things ever get back to normal, and you can get back to the States, please try to get this to my mother. I want her to know what happened to me, to not have to wonder if I was lost in the hordes of monsters, if I had become one. Please, let her know that I died still resembling myself, the man she raised.”

  Sara nodded. “Of course.” She followed him on deck, watching him struggle to even walk. His time had indeed come, even if they made it to Jamaica and it was safe there, Cameron could not be saved. His body died around him, and she could tell only sheer will kept his brain from succumbing as well, and soon, that would happen no matter what.

  “You should go back in the cabin. You don’t need to see this Sara. I think I am still strong enough to do this myself. You and Mark do not have to become killers on my account, but I still don’t want you to see this.” Cameron’s voice came out labored as he tried to push her back down the stairs.

  “No, I want to be with you, so you are not alone. You saved my life twice back on the island. It’s the least that I can do.” Sara remained stubborn and came on deck with him.

  Mark agreed with Cameron though. “He won’t be alone. I’m here. And he’s right, this is not something that you need to put yourself through.”

  She ignored them both and followed Cameron to the back of the boat where he sat down and tried to get his gun out. His hand shook so badly that he struggle to get it free. Sara gently helped him and took the safety off. “You’re a good man, Cameron. Thank you for my life.” Tears flowed down both of their faces as she helped him place the gun. He gave her one last sad look and pulled the trigger, falling backwards into the water and disappearing forever.

  Mark came up behind her and pulled her into a hug. “That was a brave and kind thing you did. He was a good man, and he did what he had to. Just as we must from now on.”

  Sara nodded. The rest of the trip to Jamaica went by in a blur. She remembered nothing after Cameron’s death until Mark yelled that he saw land. Something inside of her woke up, and she knew she had to go on, for herself and for Cameron and all the others who had been lost. She could not give up and retreat into herself forever.

  When the docks came into sight, they were swarming with armed men as they approached, nothing like the laid back attitude that could usually be found here. News of what happened must be spreading. She just hoped that was all that was spreading.

  “We’re not infected,” Mark shouted when they were close enough. The men on the docks stared at them the closer the boat came and finally lowered their weapons.

  “You are Americans?” one man asked.

  “Yes, we escaped from Key Largo a couple of days ago. There’s an infection, it spread fast, and we were the only ones to not be infected and to escape that we know of.”

  “All news from America has stopped. We cannot contact anyone there, not even relatives. We knew something was going on, but not what. Come on land. Tell us everything,” one of the men said.

  And so it began. Jamaica became their home base as they tried to learn about what was happening in the United States, news trickled in slowly and the more they heard the more Sara knew they would have to move on sooner rather than later. The contagion was making its way towards them as news from other islands began to go dark. Would they have to run for the rest of their lives? She did not know, but she prepared for the unknown to come, she would survive, she knew she would and not make Cameron’s sacrifice for nothing.

  She refused to ever stray far from the boat. The time to flee again would come, she knew it would, and she would be ready. Mark seemed to think along the same lines. Then one day, they heard one of the police radios of the Jamaican officers stationed at the docks. “This is a Code Black. I repeat, this is a Code Black…” Sara ran full speed to the boat before she could hear any more. She knew firsthand what Code Black meant, and this time, it meant it was time to head further south. Rumors were being broadcast that a safe hold existed in Argentina, a place where uninfected were gathering and protecting themselves against the mindless hordes, a place where doctors were working on a cure. That was where they needed to be. Mark came running fast on her heels. They’d been preparing to leave, yet hoping they wouldn’t have to. Code Black, however, determined their lives now. Perhaps Argentina would hold some safety, at least for a while. Sara could feel her optimism rising and felt sure Cameron smiled down on her and shook his head, and that, in turn, made her smile. She still had hope to hold on to and that would keep her going until the end.

  Sheri Velarde, lives in New Mexico with her husband and their two dogs.

  Being an avid reader since an early age, she has wanted to be a writer for as long as she can remember. She has been writing all her life, but only recently started to actually try to pursue her dream of writing for a living. She specializes in all things paranormal and that go bump in the night. Her heart truly lies in expl
oring unknown worlds or adding the supernatural to our world. If it goes bump in the night or has magical connotations, Sheri writes about it.

  She is constantly putting out new material with various publishers, so it is best to keep up with her on her website www.sherivelarde.weebly.com.

  In her spare time Sheri is an artist, jewelry designer, independent comic writer/artist and freelance non-fiction writer. Hiking in the mountains, going to live concerts, art openings, museums, and hosting intimate dinner parties.

  Links:

  Website/Blog: http://sherivelarde.weebly.com/

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sheri-VelardeKelly-Ryan/632892500084202

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sher_V

  List of other works by Sheri Velarde:

  Quest for Redemption: Defender of the Realms Book 1

  Welcome to Oceanside Inn

  Looted: Gods Behaving Badly Book 1

  Blood, Lust and Love: A Collection of Vampire Shorts

  Rumpled Sheets (Part of Twisted Fables Anthology)

  Lust, Sex and Tattoos

  To Melt a Frozen Heart (Part of the Snowed In F/F Anthology)

  Not So Silent Night

  Taking Pleasure Where You Can (Duty, Honor, Desire Anthology for Help for Heroes)

  Possessed by Love (Part of Haunted Hotties Vol. 1 Anthology)