I open my eyes and before me is a white fog. Thick and scented like chemicals. The realisation of what’s happening takes a second for my brain to register but as Emma flings the emptied fire extinguisher towards the front of the bus I snap out of my daze.
“Move,” she barks. I back away from the filthy choking coughs emanating from in front of me and we both make a hasty retreat towards the exit beside the back seat.
I pull the bar to release the door and push it open but don’t go any further because awaiting us outside is a mob of at least six more of these infected. A fire extinguisher won’t be enough to save us this time.
6
The gang of miscreants is gathering outside the exit in a huddled group. Not attempting to climb to us. Instead, they’re waiting for our inevitable attempt to flee from the bus.
Our options are limited to say the least. We can either descend into the menacing band of monsteroids or stay on board and somehow try to overcome the other three. The outcome of the latter, I’m sure, will simply result in more swarming onto the bus so I can dismiss that as a choice.
I realize it’s my turn to grow a pair and give Emma a genuine chance of escaping. If I hurl myself into the group I might be able to make a big enough gap in the crowd for her to follow me and make a run for it.
“My turn,” I announce in my bravest voice possible.
I glance quickly in her direction, not letting our eyes make contact as I’d rather she doesn’t see the watery fear building up in mine.
I return my attention to outside the door and pick a spot to bombard with my torso.
“Follow me and run away as fast as you can,” I shout as I ready myself to jump.
I go for it, but find myself needing to grab hold of the door frame as an unexpected impact knocks me backwards.
Mangled bodies are sent flying in every direction. A huge, shiny 4x4 jeep with bull bars on the bumper has rammed into the group, decapitating some and pinning others against the side of the bus.
I don’t recognise the vehicle, but as the passenger window rolls down I hear a familiar voice, over the howls of annoyance and pain emanating from around us.
“You fancy moving your arse there mate.” Shawn has finally decided to make an appearance.
“With pleasure,” I respond grabbing Emma’s hand and pulling her with me as I jump into the open trailer part of the jeep.
Once were safely aboard, Shawn floors the accelerator and the jeep lurches into life. We hold on for dear life as we get bounced around the back as Shawn powers away from the bus leaving a furious looking Toma standing in the doorway.
When we’re a safe enough distance away, he pulls up and lets us in.
“New friend?” he greets as we pile into the front seat.
“New wheels?” I answer. He grins with a wry smile.
“Yea but it’s only a loaner. It suits me huh?”
”Oh to a tee,” I say mockingly. He gives me the finger as he grins.
I make all the necessary introductions.
“About time you got yourself a girlfriend.” I blush profusely.
He locks the doors before I can reply and starts driving again. He continues, “We have to keep moving. It draws their attention if we stay in one spot too long.”
Their attention? He seems to know more about what’s going on than we do.
“So do you have any idea what’s happening?” I question.
“To put it simply, it seems there’s been some sort of outbreak, and we poor saps are stuck slap bang in the middle of it. This shit seems to take control of ya and turns you into some sort of friggin’ zombie, like your friends back there on the bus,” is his unbelievable reply. Unbelievable yes, but it certainly would explain everything that’s been happening. But how did this all come about?
As if he was reading my mind, Shawn suggests, “Turn on the radio, and it will explain everything in more detail.”
I oblige and twist the volume button, but there’s only static, the same as the radio at Emma’s apartment.
“There no reception,” I argue.
“Tune it to the 89.6 frequency. It’s a government emergency broadcast.”
I tune it in and sure enough there’s a reception. A clear voiced man is speaking. I recognize it as being our president’s voice. He must be safely sheltered away somewhere with our other government officials. Standard protocol in a disaster situation I presume.
“How did you know to tune it in to that frequency?” I question.
“Earlier when I couldn’t get a signal I just did an auto scan and the radio locked on to it. Simple enough really, even an idiot could figure that out”.
I feel my cheeks burning.
“It’s good to see that even in a disaster you’re your usual sarcastic asshole self,” I say with furrowed eyebrows. He’s intentionally trying to embarrass me in front of Emma. I know it shouldn’t even register in my thoughts after we’ve just had such a narrow escape from a dangerous situation, but I can’t help wanting to look good in Emma’s eyes.
“Yep, well I did learn from the best,” he sniggers back. I let out a chuckle.
“Ok start listening now.”
I stare at the radio and listen intently. I hear the president’s voice stop. There’s a crackle, and he starts again. It must be a recording playing in a loop.
---“This is your president speaking. As of one AM Sunday the 3rd august, Ireland is in a declared state of emergency. Information as of yet is limited, but what we do know is that a highly contagious viral outbreak has occurred and citizens are requested to remain in their homes.
Emergency and communication services appear to have been compromised but please rest assured that if you remain in your homes then this situation will be resolved with minimal casualties.
We have made contact with our allies overseas via military communication systems and assistance protocols are being negotiated.
The army is currently being deployed to assist so do not worry help is at hand. I ask you to follow any orders they may have without fuss.
In circumstances where staying at home is not a viable option, it is advised that you make your way to the nearest Garda station or town hall. These areas will act as safe zones for the duration of this epidemic.
As for the virus, our top scientists have been able to learn that it is spread via human body fluid exchange so avoid contact with saliva, blood and any other fluids. It does not appear to be an airborne contagion.
You can trust that your safety is my primary concern, so that is why I’m urging you once again to stay indoors. This is a life or death situation so please do not treat it in any other way. Ration any food you may have to last for as long as possible.
I will provide further broadcasts as I receive information. So for the moment lets all pray for a speedy and safe conclusion to this affair. That is all for now. Godspeed”---
There’s a crackle, and the loop begins to repeat again. I turn the volume down. Nobody says anything.
State of emergency huh? Things must be really bad. Hmmm, I guess we just witnessed firsthand how bad. Stay indoors. That’s good advice and here we are travelling around town like fools. Can they figure out a cure? Is a potential cure even possible to concoct?
Shawn breaks the silence. “Well we won’t be going to any safe area,” he states with a cynical laugh.
“Why not?”
“Because I passed that way to get here and the whole place is fucked man. I mean, it’s like well and truly fucked. We’re just lucky it hasn’t spread on a large scale to this side of the city yet. And I mean YET. It will spread here; it’s just a matter of time. Our only safe bet is to get the hell outta the city, as far away from here as we can.”
This resonates in my brain. Society was collapsing all around us, and we were completely clueless. We thought it was just some random, violent thugs out to cause trouble when, in reality, the picture was bigger, much bigger!
I look over at Emma who has been really quie
t this entire time.
“You ok?” I enquire.
“Does it not upset you that we just maimed and probably killed several people back there?” she retorts.
True this realisation never dawned on me until now. I guess in the heat of the moment I had overlooked this fact. I turn away in silence. Remorseful thoughts are running true my head.
Shawn butts in, “Look it was them or you. They wanted to kill you, so it was self-defence, ok? Anyhow, you can hardly call those shitheads human anymore. They’re more like a pack of animals now.”
Yea that’s a valid point. I shouldn’t feel guilty. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they wanted to cause us harm on the bus. Of course, I don’t want people to die, but if it’s them or us then I’ll always pick us.
With dismay in her voice, Emma shouts at him, “Maybe they did have bad intentions but they’re still people. They’re just sick is all.”
“Okay okay, Jesus I’m sorry,” Shawn apologises half heartedly. “Anyhow, I don’t know why you’re feeling so bad seeing as I’m the one who actually ran them down sweetheart.”
“Nice friends you keep Matt,” Emma utters as she throws her hands in the air in a frustrated gesture.
“Shawn apologise,” I order in an ushering tone.
“Matt I’m not going to apologise for speaking the truth, just because you want to get in her knickers.”
I hear Emma let out a disgusted, “Ugh” beside me.
“Shawn,” I exclaim, this time in a more assertive tone. He looks at me, and I raise my eyebrows insistently. He silently mouths to me the words, “Okay fine,” as he throws his eyes up to heaven.
“I’m sorry if I offended you Emma. Sincerely I am.” Shawn’s declaration seems genuine enough for Emma to accept reluctantly. Jesus these two are as stubborn as each other.
The cab of the jeep falls quiet again.
“Well if everyone is finished making friends then maybe someone has some useful suggestions what to do next?” I say breaking the hushed atmosphere.
“Well, leaving me home would be a start,” asserts Emma with a scowl on her face.
Oh she’s pissed off.
“Fine if that’s what you want then there’s no problem there,” Shawn says almost joyfully. He changes course and directs the jeep back towards the vicinity of Emma’s apartment before even finishing the sentence.
I try to lighten the mood a little and ask Shawn how he obtained his new set of flashy wheels.
He starts by telling us how he had left his place to come and pick us up. He was walking to his car, a beat up old Volkswagen Bora, when he noticed a big deal of commotion happening out on the street. Much the same as what Emma and I had witnessed outside the takeaway.
There were people running for their lives’ from a horde of menacing figures. Others who were not fast enough to escape were been assaulted both sexually and physically.
The route to his car was blocked, so he doubled back to his place and looked for something to defend himself. The obvious choice being a short bladed samurai sword he acquired on a holiday to Japan some years back. He points to the back seat, and sure enough to support his story there’s the sword lying in its sheath.
He brought me one back from that trip too. It’s currently is in my house, but that’s no good to me now. They’re lethally sharp but obviously only used as display objects. Also, to my own knowledge, it’s illegal to own them in Ireland. Not that it’s an issue right now.
From there, he sneaked out the back to avoid an encounter with the ‘Virus Squad’ as he calls them. By that stage, it was obvious to him that the shit had hit the proverbial fan, and the city was in full riot mode. And what do people do during riots? They loot and rob.
So Shawn decided to pay his local motor dealer a visit at three AM and helped himself to a new ride. He also tried ringing me several times but couldn’t get any coverage.
From his description, I learn three things. Firstly, his network must have gone down shortly after I rang him the first time. Emma’s phone is obviously on a different network, so it didn’t go down at the same time.
Well the second thing I already know, Shawn is an egotistical maniac, and three, it sounds like the aim of those infected is to try and pass the virus on to those who are uninfected, not actually kill anyone.
It’s fair to assume that like most viruses they use up the resources at their disposal until they are depleted thus resulting in the virus itself dying out. So death for the host is probably inevitable after becoming infected. But how long? A day? Two? A week? There’s no way for to know.
By the look of Toma’s physical decline, I’d wager that she’s not far from deaths door. But I could be wrong. Also, judging from the taxi drivers’ quick transformation the initial effects seem to be fast acting.
So in this case the virus seems to be intelligent enough to be able to control the infected person and make them pass it on to the next unlucky sod, ensuring its survival. But for how long? Until there are no more people left in the country to infect? Now that’s a scary thought!
If that’s the case, and these zombies are running loose around the city attacking people, then is locking yourself up at home really going to make you any safer?
We arrive at the car park belonging to Emma’s apartment complex. Shawn pulls up as close to her door as the jeep can go and leaves the engine running. There’s no sign of anyone life around.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask in the hope that she’ll change her mind.
“I’ll be fine,” she insists.
“Okay I’ll see you in then,” I offer.
Pleased by this, she looks over at Shawn and thanks him sincerely for having saved our skins earlier. The signs of anger towards him appear to have waned slightly. Maybe the scale of the situation has finally sunk in.
He accepts the gratitude and wishes her the best of luck, but I know him well enough to be able to tell he doesn’t really give a rat’s ass.
Emma gets her key ready as I take the sword from the back seat and remove it from its sheath.
We hop out of the jeep and dart for her doorway. When we make it she quickly inserts the key.
“That’s funny,” she spouts, “It’s not locked. I thought for sure I had locked it.”
I clearly remember she did lock it as she checked it twice to make sure.
“You did, and you double checked it,” I reply.
This whole scenario just got real dodgy.
“I probably just had a blonde moment,” she insists as she turns the handle and walks in. I follow close behind with a tight grip on the sword’s hilt.
The place is the same as we left it, but I still find it awfully strange that the door was unlocked. I slowly skulk my way from room to room, gradually and carefully opening doors and checking if there are any unwanted intruders. I puff out sighs of relief with each unoccupied one I find.
I come to the last room which is Emma’s bedroom. Opening the door I find a young man standing there, staring me down. A glowering look on his face. He’s handsome, blond haired, and I’d judge him to be in his early twenties. I raise the sword in front of me and assume an aggressive stance.
“Who the hell are you?” I yell.
“I’m Emma’s boyfriend. So I guess the question is WHO THE FUCK are you?” is his stern reply.
This unexpected response throws me. I’m filled with a mixture of hurt and relief. Hurt because of the betrayal of Emma’s lies about being single. Relief because it’s immediately apparent from the way he talks and holds himself that he’s not another one of the infected; instead he’s just a pompous dickhead.
I lower the sword to my side unsure how to answer. Before I can think of anything to say, Emma enters the room and barks, “Why the fuck are you in my room Jason?”
He answers with a sleazy sounding, “Don’t be like that babe. I was worried about you and came over to see if you were okay.”
“I don’t need you to check on me you cheating scumb
ag. How dare you come onto my property when were broken up. What gives you the right?! How do you even have a spare key you creep? Leave the key and get the fuck out.”
Broken up? So this guy is an ex boyfriend. My heart and spirit feel revitalized on hearing these words.
“But babe you know I love you.”
His voice really irritates me. Now is a chance for me to show Emma that I can stand up for myself and her. To show her that I can be confident.
With my new and improved self belief, I lift the sword once more and point the tip in Jason’s direction. In a powerful voice I bellow, “She doesn’t want you here, so I suggest you leave now before I make you leave.”
Emma must have noticed the change in my deportment as I catch her looking at me in her bedroom mirror, a look of admiration on her face.
A now obviously disgruntled Jason begins to move and circles past me towards the door, making sure to give a wide berth to the sword blade which is gleaming in the sunlight from the bedroom window. I follow him out and march him to the front door. All the time he’s seething profanities at me.
We reach the front door, and he steps outside the threshold.
“You wouldn’t be so tough without that sword you faggot,” he says.
“Well if that’s what you think I am, maybe I should shove this sword up your ass and see how much you like it you homophobic shithead.”
To psych him out, I fake a lunge forward. He stumbles backwards and lands on his arse. I grin widely, and as I’m shutting the door I laugh out, “See ya around precious. That is if those freaks don’t see you first.”
He kicks the door several times in frustration before walking away swearing and muttering to himself.
As much as I don’t like the guy; I hope he doesn’t attract any unwanted attention with his noisiness. That could result in us being discovered too.
I go into the living room. By now, the sun is shining fully in the window where I had watched it ebb its way across the wall this morning. I let my attention slip momentarily as I gaze at the dust particles glistening and dancing around in the brightness. I take a deep breath.
The Hibernia Strain Page 4
