Black Flag | Book 1 | Surviving The Scourge

by Klapwyk, Dave

  Chapter 8

  Monique sat on the couch, breathing heavily and deliberately.

  In through the nose, out through the mouth.

  “Do you need…” Kevin started to ask but was interrupted when Monique held up her finger, indicating that she needed a minute.

  She continued concentrating on her breathing.

  It would have been nice to take a few prenatal classes other than just the ones online.

  Like many other non-essential services, in-person prenatal classes were shut down due to the pandemic. There were online classes only.

  As her breathing slowed and the pain subsided, she looked up to see a dark pair of canine eyes looking at her. They only had Roxie for a week, but she was already very protective of her.

  Roxie had been with Officer Mike for four years as part of the canine unit. He had responded to a call about a man with a rake and was ambushed and killed by a gang on Pochatok Street. Roxie hadn’t been reassigned to another officer yet.

  Mike’s wife Janice was left to look after their three children. Shortly after Mike was killed, two of their sons died of the virus. This left Janice with their remaining daughter and Roxie. Janice decided to leave with the daughter to live with her mother and asked Kevin and Monique if they wanted the dog.

  After their traumatizing home invasion, Kevin and Monique had tried to get an alarm system installed. However, alarm companies were not considered an essential service many were no longer open. Kevin bought some heavy-duty locks that he had to install himself. The locks didn’t offer much security, so they gladly accepted the offer to look after the big German Shepherd.

  Roxie immediately clung to Monique, following her around the house. When she sat down on the couch and started breathing heavily, the dog sat and watched with a concerned stare.

  Monique recovered and sat up straight. “How long since the last contraction?” she asked.

  “45 minutes,” replied Kevin, looking at his watch.

  “Okay, so I’m not having the baby yet.”

  Kevin rubbed her back gently. “Shouldn’t we go to the hospital?”

  “I suppose we should be going soon.”

  “I’ll grab the duffle bag.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were standing at the bus stop waiting. The sun had retired for the day, and the night was beginning its shift. A teenage boy stood leaning against the bus shelter, scrolling through his phone. The boy looked up from his phone. “Looks like no more buses today.”

  “What? Why not?” Kevin asked.

  The boy let his skateboard drop and shrugged his shoulders. “Reduced service, I guess.” He hopped on his skateboard and rolled down the sidewalk.

  “I’ll call a cab,” said Kevin as he pulled out his phone.

  Monique’s back hurt, but she hadn’t had a contraction for a half hour.

  “I can’t get through,” he said, “they must be really busy.”

  “What about an Uber?”

  “I ran out of data yesterday. Where’s your phone?”

  “I left it at home. It’s a work phone, remember, and I hate answering work calls after hours.”

  “Maybe we should have bought a car.”

  “It’s so expensive. Besides that’s what public transit is supposed to be for.” Suddenly Monique keeled over in pain. When she recovered, Kevin looked at his watch.

  “It’s been 35 minutes,” he said. “They’re getting closer together.” Monique thought for a moment. “Do you think the neighbours took their bicycles?”

  “You are not in any condition to be riding a bicycle.”

  “No, but they have one of those kid trailers that hooks on the back of a bicycle.”

  They walked back home and, using the key under the rock in the petunias, opened the neighbour’s front door. Kevin walked through the house and into the garage. When he opened the garage door, Monique saw a shiny blue jeep. “Why don’t we take the jeep?”

  “It’s one thing to borrow their bicycle without asking, but I’m not stealing their jeep.”

  They found a red bicycle and a small bicycle trailer that they managed to connect to the back. The trailer was meant for two kids, but Monique was able to squeeze inside with the duffel bag behind her. She had to have her knees slightly bent to fit, but it was tolerable. They put a blanket underneath her for added comfort. There was only one pink bicycle helmet, and Monique insisted Kevin needed to wear it, since he was the one on the bicycle.

  They closed the garage door and rolled down the driveway. The sidewalk was far too bumpy for Monique, so they opted to take the road. Fortunately, there were lights on the bicycle and trailer, so this reduced the chances of getting run over.

  Monique had done a fair bit of cycling before she was pregnant and figured it should take them about an hour. Although with Kevin’s driving, an hour and a half.

  There was little traffic, and the air was still warm. Six months ago, this would have been the perfect night for a late-night cycle. Tonight, however, was a little different. There was the constant sound of a siren from somewhere in the city. Some stores were closed, some were boarded up, and there were few people out on the street.

  Up ahead, they heard shouting, and as they got closer, they could see a large group of protesters coming their way. They were chanting, shaking their fists in the air in unison and taking up the entire street and both sidewalks.

  “Detour!” yelled Kevin as he turned down a side street at the next intersection. The side street was notably quieter, and the sounds of the protesters behind them faded.

  Kevin slowed as they came upon a large white transport truck. The truck looked out of place on the narrow side street. As they passed, Monique could see the back of the truck was over half full of bodies. People in blue and white hazmat suits were loading full body bags onto the growing pile. The truck was parked outside of a large senior’s residence with a black ribbon tied to the front sign.

  Kevin slowed to a crawl as they watched.

  “Keep going, Kevin!” Monique suggested loudly.

  They turned up the next street to get back to the main road to the hospital. The road was all residential houses. Most were older homes, many with uncut grass and untouched flower beds. Some houses were boarded up and there were few people out on the sidewalks. There were few other vehicles on the streets.

  “Ahhh!” yelled Monique, “Stop!”

  Kevin pulled to the side of the road.

  One of the exceptions to the empty city was a group of about ten teens and twenty-somethings on the road ahead of them. The group straddled the curb with some of them on the sidewalk while the rest stood on the side of the road. Many had beers in their hands while others were smoking various substances.

  Kevin steered to the far side of the street, hoping to get around them. One member of the group said something to the others, and they moved to block the entire road.

  Kevin rolled to a stop in front of them. “Look, guys, we need to get through.”

  “There is currently a special toll for this street,” said the leader of the group. He wore a large black hoodie, dark wide pants and a branded baseball cap. He looked at Kevin’s helmet and laughed. “Especially for dorks with pink helmets.”

  Others in the group laughed.

  Monique was getting impatient but remained in her seat.

  “Look,” said Kevin, “We don’t have any money and…”

  “Oh really,” the leader of the group interrupted as he stepped closer.

  Monique had had enough. She almost tripped on her face as she gracelessly extracted herself from the tiny trailer. She walked up to the leader of the pack with her distended belly pressing up against the man.

  “Do you want to rob us at the same time I’m giving birth?!” she yelled.

  He stood motionless with a stunned look on his face.

  “Unless you want my water to break over your designer shoes, I suggest you step aside!”

  The man took two steps back. “Um…maybe we’ll j
ust charge you double next time.”

  Monique struggled to get back into the trailer but then felt strong hands under her arms as she was gently lowered down. She looked up at the gang leader who was now helping her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He looked down at her with a smirk. “We may not always be good people, but we’re not savages.”

  “Not yet,” she called back as they cycled down the street to St. Jude’s Hospital.

  Chapter 9

  Early the next morning, Joe and Ayesha were both rudely awoken by the sound of someone banging on the maintenance room door and the notification chirp on Ayesha’s phone. The police were at the door, and Zach was texting to say the police had finally arrived. Joe and Ayesha opened the door and came face to face with four policemen all decked out in full riot gear. The police led them out of the room and outside. There were lights and sirens and a lot of yelling. Blender and Zach had come down from their night on the roof and reunited with Joe and Ayesha.

  Blender looked at Joe. “What’s with all the blood? Are you hurt, and where are your shoes?” he asked

  “It’s a long story,” said Joe. “Let’s go check out the apartment.”

  As they walked back inside the building, Laurel came running up behind them. “Joe, are you alright? What happened?”

  “I’m fine, thanks Laurel. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, my apartment’s been cleaned out but I’m not hurt.”

  “That’s good. We were just about to check out mine.” He led the procession to the elevator, up to the top floor and down the hall to his apartment.

  Laurel stood beside Joe with his hand on Joe’s shoulder. Zach and Blender stood on the other side, and Ayesha clung to his hand. The five of them stood silently inside the doorway.

  His apartment was trashed. The kitchen cupboards were open and now mostly empty. One of the cupboard doors hung awkwardly from one hinge. The fridge was open and emptied except for some condiments and a rotten apple. Most of the furniture was upturned. A side lamp lay broken on the floor. One of the windows was broken. The blinds on the other window that Joe had flung Red out of were barely hanging on. They swung in and out of the open window in the early morning breeze. There was blood everywhere. The television, sound system, and Zach’s laptop were gone, as was the last of their food stash. There were clothes and books strewn across the room. It looked like someone had taken a machete to the pool table, and his dartboard was gone.

  Why would they take my dartboard?

  The five of them stood looking at the disaster previously known as their home. Joe looked around at his friends and realized they were waiting for him to say or do something.

  I’m the leader of this little group of survivors at the end of the world. I should say something inspiring.

  “We will rebuild!” he exclaimed.

  Blender looked at him with a quirky smile. “Right, you build a new television, and I’ll go build some food.”

  A voice from behind him interrupted their reconstruction plans. “Is there an Ayesha Norsburg and Zachary Wiles here?”

  A woman and three men with business cards that said ‘Child Services’ swooped in to take the kids. Joe briefly tried to protest, but they insisted they would be taken care of. Zach was mumbling about his laptop, and Ayesha just looked stunned. Blender said something to him about checking in with his parents. Laurel left to go check up on his neighbour. Then one of the officers told him that his apartment was a crime scene, and he would have to stay in a hotel for a few nights while they investigated. For a few brief dizzy moments, he stood there alone.

  It all happened so fast. He felt detached from what was going on around him. The crazy events of the night before, and so many things happening at once overwhelmed him.

  I killed a man. My apartment is trashed. The police are everywhere. Blender and Zach are gone. I’m homeless. The world’s gone mad. Ayesha’s gone. I’m alone, again.

  He walked down to his shop in the basement, grabbed the bottle of Canadian Club and walked out of Building One. While drinking straight from the bottle, he walked past the policemen and paramedics. He walked past the tenants trying to ask him questions. He walked down the streets aimless and in a daze. He kept drinking. He walked past the ambulances, police cars and Harley’s outside the building. He drank some more. He walked past the sycamore tree he had stood under with Laurel as they watched the ambulance take Harvey away.

  Now it was him being taken away. Except it wasn’t him being taken away. It was everyone else that was leaving. He felt more alone now, than when he walked out of Patmos park where he had poured out Jenny’s ashes. His mind swirled with cheap rye as he took another swig.

  For hours he wandered aimlessly, and drank until the bottle was empty.

  Eventually, he stumbled into Patmos park. The park was filled with large maple and pine trees. A small paved pathway wound its way through the centre. He sat with his empty bottle of Canadian Club on one of the many park benches that lined the pathway.

  I miss you, Jenny. Why can’t you be here with me now? You left me. Everyone left me. I’m alone in this dying world, and no one cares.

  He got up from the bench and walked drunkenly down the path until he came upon a gang of four hoodlums skulking towards him. One of them had a white bandana with a black skull.

  That’s him.

  The sadness and anger bubbled inside him like magma.

  This was the man who tried to kill pregnant Monique. He killed Officer Mike, and his friends killed Mr. Isper, and they trashed his apartment. It’s his fault that Zach and Ayesha are gone. It’s his fault that I’m alone.

  His anger erupted. He charged at the man with the white bandana with a black skull, knocking him over. On the ground, he pounded the man with his empty bottle. His rage and grief unleashed as he reigned blow after blow down on the man’s head and face.

  Somewhere he heard a woman’s voice. “Stop, please stop!”

  Jenny? Is that you?

  He paused from his frenzied violence for a moment. It wasn’t Jenny. It was a woman’s voice he didn’t recognize. His blurred vision cleared somewhat, and he looked down at his victim. The man did not have a white bandana with a black skull. He had a Chicago White Sox baseball hat. The hat was now covered in the man’s blood. Beside him, the man’s wife was pleading with him, and two kids were crying under a small maple tree.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man in black – a police officer - running towards him. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was a big black police baton swinging towards the side of his head.

  Chapter 10

  When Joe woke up, he heard screaming. It was a woman in the distance, and it was getting louder. He opened his eyes. He was facing the ceiling, and fluorescent lights were moving slowly past. But the lights weren’t moving, he was. He was lying on a stretcher being pushed down the hallway of a hospital. His leg hurt, his head hurt, he had a pounding headache, his throat was dry, and his tongue felt like sandpaper. His right hand was handcuffed to the stretcher. A nurse with short black hair, dark skin and tired deep brown eyes peering out from behind a mask pushed him down the hall. Both sides of the hall were lined with patients on stretchers. The nurse parallel parked his stretcher in a gap between an older woman who wasn’t moving and a blond teenage boy who kept coughing.

  The sound of the screaming woman in the distance stopped.

  “Guess she had her baby.” The nurse said as she examined his head. She gently touched the bandage on his head. “Now, you’re not going to give me any trouble, are you?”

  “No, I…what’s going on?” He rattled his handcuff.

  “You did some bad stuff. You are at St. Jude’s Hospital. You’ve been arrested, and I need to make sure you don’t die before you go to jail.”

  The memories of his volcanic eruption of violence at Patmos park came flooding back to him. He felt ashamed of his actions and a deep aching remorse.

  How could I do something like
that? I beat an innocent man in front of his wife and kids? What kind of person have I become? And now I’m going to jail, and no one knows or cares. I deserve it. I deserve to die.

  His eyes began to well up.

  “Okay, you big baby, hold still.” The nurse cut away his pant leg near his knife wound and unrolled the gauze that Ayesha had applied. He thought about Ayesha. A tear rolled down his cheek.

  “Looks like it might be a little infected.” She wiped away the dried blood and yellowish pus from around the wound and poured some alcohol on it. It hurt, but he was too numb to care.

  “Might as well just let me die, Miss …” He read the name tag on her shirt. “…Norsburg.”

  I’ve heard that name before.

  “Nope, you’re not allowed to die until the police have taken you away, then you are their responsibility. Now don’t go anywhere. I have to get a stapler.”

  He lay back, closed his eyes, which were still wet from his crying, and tried to go to sleep.

  “Joe? Is that you?” someone was shaking him. He looked up to see a familiar face.

  “Kevin…what are you doing here?” He managed to sit up but had to steady himself as the room spun around him.

  “I’m having a baby. Well, actually Monique already did, but…what are you doing here? Are you okay? What’s with the shackles?”

  “Let’s see - a gang of looters broke into my building, and one of them attacked me with a knife – I killed him and threw him out a window. Then I hid in the basement with a little girl. The next morning, I found my apartment had been ransacked, and the little girl and boy that were living with me were taken away, and my best friend left me. Then I got very drunk, walked into a park and beat some innocent person to a pulp with a bottle. I thought it was the guy that ransacked my apartment.” He took a much-needed breath. “The same guy, I might add, that chased you and I down the street from the grocery store!”

  “Sound like you’ve had a rough time of it,” said Kevin.

  “Excuse me, you can’t be here.” The nurse returned with her stapler. “I’ve got work to do, and this man is not allowed visitors.”