by Perrin Briar
To be fair, they were probably doomed anyway, but any chance they had of creeping past the undead were gone now. The sound would attract all infected in the area.
Dana raised her own gun and fired, the barrel rising and falling as she tried to control it. It never looked this difficult in the movies!
The infected were falling. Most hits were not killing blows, and only incapacitated the undead, blowing off arms and legs and shredding them like human waste.
Dana expected them to pull back, to feel demoralized, to know their situation was an untenable one. After all, Dana and Hugo had superior firepower. But that didn’t happen. They were making the same mistake the soldiers at the detention center had.
She’d forgotten she wasn’t facing a human enemy, no matter how they appeared. They didn’t feel fear, wouldn’t back down, and would keep coming and coming. No matter what.
It was a valuable lesson, one that might well end up costing her life.
Dana stepped back farther and farther as the infected drew closer and closer. Dana’s back made contact with something. She started, spinning around to deal with whatever it was.
It was just a wall. Dead end.
She knew then they were well and truly dead. Their opponents might not like the way they tasted, a last alternative, but that wouldn’t matter when they were in a frenzy.
Dana shut her eyes and muttered a prayer. Max, I’m sorry. I failed you every bit as much as our parents. Forgive me.
The undeads’ heads exploded and their bodies crumpled to the street. Their bullets were hitting home, holding the infected back.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack!
Dana’s gun spat empty. But still the infected were falling. Hugo was a demon with a rifle. Dana could hardly believe it…
And then she didn’t believe it. Hugo’s rifle was dancing in his hands, occasionally finding a target, but most often not. There was no way he could have been mowing them all down the way he was.
Echoing gun blasts came from above.
Dana looked up to see a unit of soldiers standing on the roof, unloading into the horde of infected, taking them out. Dana didn’t question who they were, why they were helping them. All she cared about was surviving and getting out of there.
Dana reloaded and joined the firing squad again. Soon, the gunfire slowed, the silence punctuated only by an occasional cleaning-up shot. The undead were dead.
The soldiers on the roof dropped a rope over the side and helped Dana and Hugo up. More infected headed toward the alley, stragglers, toward the root of the noise. They met the carnage without a second look, and then came to the dead end. The soldiers took no notice of them.
But they weren’t soldiers, Dana realized.
She beamed and nodded to a tall athletic guy, no more than fifteen years of age. He was covered in tattoos, over his arms and neck, snaking up to his face.
“Howdy!” Henry said.
He had never looked so good, and that was saying something. The apocalypse suited him.
“Howdy,” Dana said. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”
“You know each other?” Hugo said.
“We were at juvie together,” Dana said. “The boys were in the opposite building. We weren’t supposed to mingle, but we found a way anyway.”
“Glad to see you made it out,” Henry said.
“You don’t think the end of the world could keep me down, did you?” Dana said.
“No, I suppose not,” Henry said. “How’s Max?”
Dana’s smile faded, all joviality gone.
“She was taken from me,” Dana said.
Henry nodded.
“That’s been happening a lot lately,” he said. “You’re welcome to join us, if you want. I see you’ve already got plenty of weapons.”
Dana shrugged.
“When people leave things sitting around they can’t expect them not to get taken, can they?” she said.
“Except this time there’s no one to stop us,” Henry said. “This is unreal. Can you believe all this is happening?”
“No,” Dana said. “But it is. And we have to learn to cope with it.”
“That’s what we’re good at,” Henry said. “Nice day, ain’t it?”
Smoke rose from the city in a dozen locations. It was the first time Dana had looked up since this whole shit storm had kicked off. She didn’t care much for the view.
“You look a little pale,” Henry said. “Are you infected?”
Out of her periphery, Dana noticed the other juvie soldiers gripping their guns tight. Safeties off.
“No,” Dana said.
“You do look clean,” Henry said with a grin. “Very clean.”
He ran his eyes over her. A typical man who could think with only one part of his anatomy.
“It’s called soap,” Dana said. “You should try it sometime.”
“If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were one of them,” Henry said. “Your complexion… It doesn’t look right.”
“If I was one of them, would I be talking to you now?” Dana said. “Do they look like they’re the height of sophisticated communication?”
Below, the undead groaned, reaching up for the survivors on the roof, their eyes fuzzy white and distant. Henry pursed his lips.
“I suppose not,” he said, lowering his gun. “Not that you were ever great at conversation, as I recall. You ought to come with us. We need all the help we can get.”
Dana didn’t want to go with them, but what choice did she have? It would be getting dark soon and they needed a safe place to hole-up. She could see by the apprehensive look in Hugo’s eye that he thought the same. She wished he wouldn’t make it so obvious what he was thinking though.
“Sure,” Dana said. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Thirty
THE BOYS’ section of the King County Juvenile Detention Center was a mirror reflection of the girls’, but on the opposite side of the compound. There was an antiseptic smell that always reminded Dana of hospitals. It was hoped that by keeping the center spotless and clean it was possible for it to rub off on the inmates. It never happened of course, but that was the theory.
Henry walked in front of Dana and Hugo. The other juvies straddled them on either side. An escort. It felt like they were being taken to the gas chamber. Dana’s grip on her rifle tightened. So long as she had her weapons she could be a threat. And that gave her at least some protection.
Dana knew these people, even if only by reputation. But the world had changed, and people did not need to act the same way they once had. They were all still trying to figure out what the new rules were, where they fit in the grand scheme of things. Dana was not about to be relegated to the bottom tier.
They came to the door to the principal’s office. Henry stopped and turned to face Dana and Hugo. He held out his hand. At first Dana didn’t understand his meaning. Then his eyes flickered to Dana and Hugo’s weapons.
“You must be joking,” Dana said.
“Boss’s orders,” Henry said.
“Sod your orders,” Dana said. “If you think I’m going anywhere without this gun, you’ve got another thing coming. For all I know there might be undead inside that room.”
Henry smiled. It was laced with poison.
“I thought you trusted me?” he said.
“It has to be reciprocated,” Dana said.
“There you go, with all your long fancy words,” Henry said.
He turned to smile at the others.
“Did you hear that, lads?” he said. “Trust needs to be reciprocated.”
“Come on, Hugo,” Dana said. “They’re just wasting our time.”
“Let them in,” a voice over Henry’s radio said.
It was deep and commanding, the static doing nothing to smooth the roughness of tone. Dana thought she recognized it, but the image faded fast.
“Coming in now,” Henry said into the radio. He released the button. “Fine. Keep your weapons. But
keep them out of your hands, capiche?”
“You just make sure I don’t need them in my hands,” Dana said.
Henry smiled. Dana always had to have the last word. Henry turned and pushed the door to the office open. A middle-aged woman sat behind the desk.
“Dana,” Miss Jenkins said. “Nice to see you again. And so soon.”
“What are you doing here?” Dana said, skipping pleasantries.
“We’ve all had to adapt to the new world order,” Miss Jenkins said. “I found myself surrounded by formerly dangerous young men and women. Now, they’re safe. All right, perhaps not safe, but they require leadership, and here I am to provide it. I’m glad to see you survived the first wave.”
“The first wave?” Dana said.
“Let me bring you up to speed,” Miss Jenkins said.
She removed the pens and papers from her desk. Underneath it was a map of the world.
“As far as we can tell, the virus had a devastating effect on all the major cities and business hubs,” Miss Jenkins said. “Anywhere with a major airport was hit first. The injured and infected were naturally admitted into the hospitals. The virus spread like wildfire after that.
“It was like dropping ink on absorbent paper. It swells and thickens and consumes that area until it is saturated, and then spreads outwards, like a tribe of hunter-gatherers searching for food. It hit Europe, the Middle East and Asia first. By the time we knew of it in the States, it was already too late. Have no doubts, it’s here. The end of days.”
The pure scale of what Miss Jenkins was saying made Dana rock back on her heels. She blinked, taking it all in. And what it meant.
“You’re saying the whole world is like Seattle?” she said.
“The whole world,” Miss Jenkins said with a nod. “Any place with a human population, in any case. In order to survive we need supplies. Weapons, food, water and medicine. In that order.”
“Why are you telling us all this?” Dana said.
Miss Jenkins removed her spectacles and put one of the plastic arms in her mouth.
“How did you manage to go outside without them tearing you to pieces?” she said. “We saw you—you and your friend—go out and pick up weapons. The undead didn’t seem much interested in you, until they were driven into a frenzy, of course. Why is it they aren’t interested in you, but the rest of us are a delicacy to them?”
Dana hesitated only a moment before she pulled the collar of her shirt aside. Hugo did the same.
“You were bitten?” Miss Jenkins said.
Dana nodded.
Henry visibly flinched, his eyes locking on the bite, and then Dana. He looked like he was trying to bore a hole through her skull with his eyes.
“But… how can that be?” Miss Jenkins said. “Perhaps the bite didn’t pierce the skin?”
“It pierced the skin all right,” Dana said. “Believe me. But we have some kind of antibodies in our blood. That’s his idea, anyway.”
Hugo raised his hand.
“You’re immune?” Miss Jenkins said.
“They can’t be immune,” Henry said. “They look like them.”
“But we’re not them,” Dana said.
“Extraordinary,” Miss Jenkins said. “This could change everything. If we could get some of your blood to a facility-”
“Slow down there,” Dana said. “I’m not interested in saving the world.”
“Then what are you interested in saving?” Miss Jenkins said. “Everyone here has something, someone, they want to rescue. What about you?”
My sister, Dana thought. But she didn’t say it. Miss Jenkins caught the pause.
“Myself,” Dana said.
“And me, of course,” Hugo said. “She wants to save me too.”
“If you like,” Dana said. “Look, all I need is to know anything about a place where the military might take uninfected people. A safe haven, maybe? Tell me that, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“So you do have someone you want to save,” Miss Jenkins said.
“That’s none of your concern,” Dana said.
“But it should be yours,” Miss Jenkins said. “Don’t you see? If we can harness what’s in your blood, can create a cure, it will not only save the people you care about, but everyone everywhere.”
“The army had us in their possession before,” Dana said. “They didn’t seem much interested in harvesting a cure. They dumped us with the rest of the infected. We would be dead now if we hadn’t escaped. Tell me why I should trust them to take care of me and my sister.”
“I can’t,” Miss Jenkins said. “But you should. It’s the only way this situation can be resolved.”
She leaned forward, splaying her palms on the desktop.
“The reason the human race survived the Black Death was because there were those who were resistant,” she said. “Those with such natural defences may well be our only hope of surviving this apocalypse too.”
“I don’t care,” Dana said.
And she meant it. Max was all that mattered. Everyone else could rot for all she cared.
Miss Jenkins sighed, letting her disappointment show.
“Fine,” she said. “It’s your decision. I just hope you realize the mistake you’re making before it’s too late. As the soldiers were locking down the detention center I overheard them talking about one place that matches your description. A facility where they were carrying out something called the Eden Project. A way to start again after all the infected die out. They’ll be well protected. At least, as well protected as anyone these days.”
“Where is it?” Dana said, her heart in her throat.
A name of a place, that was all she needed. Max was almost within reach…
Miss Jenkins took a seat and leaned back, a small smile on her face.
“What’s it worth to you?” she said.
Dana blinked. The idea Jenkins wouldn’t tell her hadn’t occurred to her before. She was always so open with information. But that was before.
Dana gritted her teeth and shifted her shoulders so the gun hanging from the strap was pointed directly at Miss Jenkins. It would take less than a second for Dana to snap the trigger back.
The juvies sensed the threat and reached for their own weapons. Miss Jenkins didn’t bat an eyelid.
“You can make your decisions,” she said, “just as I can make mine.”
Dana turned her head to one side. Miss Jenkins had known Dana since she was eleven. She knew everything about her. The way she ticked, the way she thought.
“At ease,” Miss Jenkins said to the juvies out the corner of her mouth. “She won’t shoot me.”
“She shot plenty of infected earlier,” Henry said.
“Killing someone who’s already dead is one thing,” Miss Jenkins said. “Killing someone who’s still alive? That’s quite another. And I know everything there is to know about Danielle Ward. About all of you. She wouldn’t harm me.”
She waited calmly, her eyes never leaving Dana’s. Dana hated to admit it, but she was right. She stood up straight.
“Permission to relieve her of her firearm,” Henry said.
“Permission denied,” Miss Jenkins said. “We’re all entitled to our little defense mechanisms. I have something you want. That’s fortunate, because there’s something I would very much like from you too.”
“I’m not giving you my blood,” Dana said stubbornly.
“Doubly fortunate,” Miss Jenkins said. “That’s not what I want either. If you want to give your blood to the military, or anyone else for that matter, you can do it yourself.”
“Then what do you want?” Dana said.
Chapter Thirty-One
DANA AND HUGO were assigned a single room with a bunkbed. Dana got the top bunk. Hugo didn’t complain. It would have been too difficult for him to get his girth up there anyway. A small frazzle-haired girl called Spark tossed them some antibiotics.
“I hope you’re worth these,” she said.
Her expression told them she doubted that very much.
Dana and Hugo took some of the pills and tucked the rest in their pockets. That should at least stop their bite wounds from getting infected.
Dana changed into a new pair of 501s and a black top with a flaming skull on the front. She put her leather jacket on top of it. Hugo selected the clothes that most closely matched the ones he had already been wearing. By the time he was done he looked no different than before he’d changed.
Spark was waiting for them outside their room when they were finished and led them up to the top floor.
Miss Jenkins stood looking out the large plate glass window at the car park below. There were lumps dotted around, carrion already coming in for the feast. Undead stumbled around the site, falling onto the unmoving corpses.
“If we’re going to defend ourselves here, we’re going to need weapons,” Miss Jenkins said. “But every time we try to get them, we get within whiffing distance of the dead, and the infected come for us. I saw you walk amongst them. I don’t exactly understand how you’re able to do that, but I do know we can use it to our advantage. I want you to go out there and bring us as many weapons as you can carry.”
“That’s it?” Dana said.
“To those crippled, walking is but a dream that others can do without thought,” Miss Jenkins said.
Dana ran the words through her mind. They were true. The things we took for granted were often the most valuable things we possessed.
“You seemed like you knew what you were doing out there,” Miss Jenkins said. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?”
“Nintendo,” Dana said.
“We’re not trigger happy gun nuts,” Miss Jenkins said. “Despite what you might think.”
It might not have been true of all the juvies, but it was certainly true for a large percentage of them. Guns, fire and other weapons all held a special place in juvie hearts. Miss Jenkins always said it was their need to have some control over their lives, and they saw weapons as the key to that control.
“Fine,” Dana said. “We’ll get your guns. But after that, we’re through.”
“Understood,” Miss Jenkins said.
