Dead Meat Box Set, Vol. 2 | Days 4-6
Page 49
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve got a large family, and they often come over to visit, bringing along my grandkids.”
Explains why she has baby bottles in the cupboards, Iver thinks to himself.
“You want us to put the things away?” Charlotte offers, pointing to the bags on the counter.
“No, no, let me do that,” Agnete says. “You guys hungry? I was about to eat. There’s leftover lasagna in the fridge, you can heat it in the oven.”
At the mere thought of lasagna, Iver’s stomach gives an audible growl, and he immediately realizes just how little he’s eaten since he got on the ferry last night.
The microwave pings, and Agnete takes out the bottle. She sits down at the kitchen table, places the toddler on her arm and offers him the bottle. The guy’s obviously no stranger to the procedure, and he immediately latches on and begins gulping down the milk.
“Thank God we met you,” Iver says, sitting down across from Agnete as Charlotte takes out the lasagna and starts up the oven. “I would have no idea how to handle that little guy.”
She sends him a smile. “You know his name?”
“You know, I don’t. I didn’t even know his mother.”
“Huh. Well, we might need to give you a name, then,” she says, stroking the boy’s cheek with her finger. She looks at Iver. “I didn’t catch your names either?”
“I’m Iver. That’s Chris and Charlotte.”
“Nice to meet you all,” Agnete says.
“You too,” Charlotte says, wrenching out a smile.
Chris comes over to the table but doesn’t sit down. He looks at Iver as though he wants him to say something.
Iver clears his throat. “So … are you okay with us staying here for now?”
Agnete looks up at him. “For now? What do you mean? You plan on going anywhere else soon?”
“No, it’s just … taking in three people and a baby, it seems a little … much to ask.”
“The way I see it, an old lady living alone isn’t doing anybody much good. I figured we could both benefit from each other’s company.”
“Sure,” Iver says. “Thank you.”
The toddler stops drinking and leans back his head with a sigh, his eyes closing, opening, then closing again.
“Goodness, you really were hungry,” Agnete chuckles. “You drank the whole bottle. Here, let me tuck you in so you can take a nap.”
She gets up and shuffles to the stairs. Iver follows her and watches from the doorway as Agnete carries the toddler into what is clearly a child’s room. There’s even a crib, all made and ready, which she places the toddler in. He’s gone to sleep before she can even put the blanket over him.
She comes back over and closes the door, smiling at Iver. “He’ll probably be out for a few hours. Now, let’s go down and eat. We can talk over everything while we do.”
FIFTEEN
When Dan finally returns to what he once knew as the real world, the first thing he notices is the daylight streaming in at him.
Then he realizes that he’s still in the helicopter, but that the sound of the engine has stopped and that the surroundings are quiet.
Finally, he becomes aware of William’s face looking down at him, smiling tentatively.
“You still with us?”
Dan blinks.
“You were gone for most of the day; you didn’t even wake when we landed. We decided to let you sleep for as long as you needed. Here, lemme give you a hand.”
William pulls him upright and sits down next to him in the open door.
Dan looks out of the helicopter. It has landed on what looks like the top of a mountain range. The view over the open landscape is breathtaking under the blue sky. In the distance, Dan can make out a city, and somewhere nearby is the sound of the ocean.
The rest of the group is either standing or sitting around in the grass, eating and talking together in low voices. One by one they notice him.
They’re all there.
All except one.
Dan doesn’t want to think about it. He can’t. Not yet. It’s still too unreal.
Instead, he looks at Nasira. Her arms are covered in bandages, and where her skin is visible, Dan can tell it’s turning red. But other than that, she looks fine. Obviously still no fever.
Ozzy comes over and licks Dan’s hand. Dan strokes his head for a moment.
“What time is it?” he asks William.
“Almost six. You hungry?”
Dan checks in on his stomach, but finds nothing much. “Not really.”
William hands him what looks like a gas station sandwich. “You should probably eat something anyway.”
“All right.” Dan takes it, unwraps it and begins eating methodically. His head feels as empty as the rest of him.
The others have gone back to eating and talking.
“I think I had a dream,” Dan says.
William looks puzzled for a moment, like that was the last thing he expected to hear. “Oh?”
“I was back at the house.”
“Your house?”
“No. The one where it all started.”
“Oh,” William says again. “Well … I can’t imagine that was a pleasant dream.”
“It wasn’t a nightmare.”
“No?”
“No. I was just … there.”
William looks at him curiously, clearly unsure about what to say.
“I stood in the basement,” Dan goes on, speaking very slowly and deliberately. For some reason, he feels it’s important to get the words just right, to express exactly what the dream had shown him. “It was the same room. The room that Jennie died in. Everything looked like I remember. Nothing happened in the dream. I didn’t feel anything, either. I just … stood there. Looking around.”
As Dan stops talking, William shrugs and smiles. “Sounds like a pretty boring dream to me.”
“It was very … significant.”
“How so?”
Dan shakes his head slowly. “I don’t know.”
William looks at him for a moment, waiting to see if Dan is going to say anything else. When he doesn’t, William clears his throat and says: “Look, man, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. About you losing … well, everyone.”
Dan looks at William, still feeling nothing in particular. He takes another bite of his sandwich. It’s chicken and curry, his favorite, he notices as he chews slowly.
William has finished his sandwich and is rubbing his palms against his thighs. “You know, your dad was the one who pressed the issue the most. About bringing Eli along. I’m not saying it was his fault or anything, I’m just saying … don’t blame yourself.”
“I don’t blame anyone,” Dan says, surprising himself with the words.
Nasira gets up and comes over to them, Ali following along. She looks at Dan and smiles. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help hear what you’re talking about. I wanted to offer you my condolences.”
“Thank you,” Dan says, not even sure whether that’s the right answer; no one’s ever condoled him before.
“I know it’s no consolation right now,” Nasira goes on, “but I still believe we made the right choice.”
William frowns. “How can the right choice lead to Dan’s father dying?”
Nasira looks at him, her smile not faltering. “I don’t know the master plan, none of us do. But I do know that even though Henrik’s dead, his soul is unstained. That’s what doing the right thing means. That even if you die, you’ll be saved.”
“I don’t know,” William says, shaking his head, looking out over the hilly landscape. “I’m starting to think, in a world like this, where everything is turning to shit, doing the right thing may not be the right thing to do anymore.”
Nasira shrugs. “Maybe you’re right. Or maybe this is the kind of world where doing the right thing matters the most.”
She looks at Dan, and he looks back at her, and he suddenly gets why Nasira can be
so peaceful even though she’s dying. Dan isn’t dying, but he’s got nothing left to lose, either, and somehow, that’s liberating. Apparently, once everything has been stripped away from you, there’s no more reason to be afraid.
Dan takes another careful bite.
“How are you holding up?” William asks Nasira.
She glances down at her arms, then shrugs. “I feel pretty much the same. Except maybe a little warmer than usual.”
“Well, we’ve got no thermometer, so …” William reaches out his hand and places his palm on Nasira’s forehead. She closes her eyes. William takes his hand away again. “Yeah, you feel a little warm. Not feverish yet, though. Amazing how slowly it goes with you.”
The thought of Nasira not getting sick at the same rate as everyone else Dan has encountered sparks something deep inside his mind, something he can’t quite reach. It reminds him of the dream he just had.
Sebastian comes over to the helicopter. It’s only now Dan notices he’s holding a pair of binoculars. “I think they’re getting ready. We should probably head down there.”
“Great,” William says, getting to his feet.
Ozzy immediately jumps up and looks at him, excited for whatever is going to happen.
“Head down where?” Dan asks, putting the last of the sandwich in his mouth.
“Oh, right, I didn’t tell you the plan,” William says, waving him along. “Come see, you’re gonna love this.”
Dan gets up, wondering for a moment if he remembers how to walk, but his legs take care of it for him, and he follows William over to the place where Sebastian was just sitting a moment ago, on a big boulder lodged in the ground.
William looks back over his shoulder, briefing him as they walk. “We heard on the radio that Norway is infected, too. The authorities are already closing down everything. So, after we got the food, we decided to head up here, away from any larger cities.”
There’s a steep drop on this side of the mountain, which Dan couldn’t see from the helicopter, and a few hundred yards below runs a road. It leads to some sort of complex surrounded by a fence. Inside lie a couple of big buildings and in the middle a large, square space with a giant H painted on it.
“Is that … an airport?” Dan asks.
“It used to be a military air base but it’s now privately owned,” Sebastian says, joining them. “I know the guy who runs it. They just use it as a midway point where they can refuel.”
Dan looks at Sebastian, then at William. “So, why are we here?”
“Because we need fuel,” William says. “And we can’t get it anywhere else, now that they’ve locked down all the regular airports.”
“So, are we going to … steal the fuel?”
“I believe it’s called heisting,” William says, smiling.
“We can’t get into the base without security noticing,” Sebastian says. “They’ve got at least two armed guards, and we don’t want to get into a gunfight. So, we’re going to take it from the fuel truck which drives from here to town several times a day. That’s how you normally fuel a helicopter, anyway.”
“It’s gonna be cool,” William says. “We’ll wait for it to come by and hold it up while Sebastian flies the helicopter down there. You know, like when they robbed that train in Breaking Bad?”
Dan shakes his head. “I didn’t watch that show.”
William looks at him, dumbfounded. “Seriously? Dude, if Netflix survives the end of the world, we’re gonna watch Breaking Bad together.”
SIXTEEN
Although Iver feels very hungry and the lasagna is delicious, he has a hard time eating.
Images keep popping into his mind of what he saw aboard the ferry. The dead people coming back to life. Open flesh wounds. Blood everywhere.
Both Chris and Charlotte seem to have an easier time getting their stomachs to cooperate, as they shovel food down their throats.
“I’m glad you like it,” Agnete remarks with a smile.
“It’s great, thank you,” Charlotte says, her mouth full.
Chris doesn’t seem to pay any attention. He swigs down half his Coke, lets out a discrete burp and looks at Agnete briefly before resuming eating: “So, what was the meeting about?”
Agnete puts down her knife and fork and dabs her mouth with her cloth. She takes a moment, apparently using her tongue to remove any bits of lasagna from her front teeth. “They told us to prepare for the worst. They said a lot of survivors from the mainland would probably arrive within the next few days. Maybe some of them would be infected, and if that was the case, they urged us to not come into contact with them.”
Charlotte looks up from her plate. “And if they weren’t infected? What were you supposed to do then?”
“Even if they weren’t infected, they still advised us not to take anybody in. They said it was a matter of securing our own survival, and that resources could begin running low if the worst happened and society didn’t recover from the pandemic any time soon.”
“Pandemic,” Chris snorts. “Like we’re talking about the fucking flu here. When will these people wake up?”
Agnete looks at him earnestly. “What is it, if not a pandemic? You guys have seen it firsthand.”
“It’s zombies,” Chris says, slashing the air with his fork. “Clean and simple. It’s dead people wanting to eat living people.”
Agnete looks to Charlotte, who nods her agreement, then to Iver, who simply shrugs.
“I’m afraid he’s right,” he mutters. “At least from what I’ve seen, it’s not just a virus. It’s something … much worse.”
“So all the talk about a vaccine?” Agnete asks. “The prime minister promised just yesterday they would find a cure within days?”
“That’s bullshit,” Chris says, eating even faster. “She’s telling people that in order to keep them from panicking. Meanwhile, she’s probably already been escorted to some military-guarded island somewhere with all the other world leaders where they’ll ride out the storm while the rest of us eat each other.”
“That’s a very bleak outlook indeed,” Agnete says.
“It’s likely the truth,” Chris says, shrugging.
Iver clears his throat. “What else did they tell you at the town hall?”
Agnete looks at him. “They told us to help each other as best we could. That we might want to barricade our houses and prepare not to go outside in case any infected made it to the island.”
“Finally, some sound advice,” Chris interjects.
“They reminded us it’s still illegal to hurt any of the infected, unless they directly attack us, but they said those of us who have firearms might want to get them ready.”
“Do you have any?” Charlotte asks, a hopeful tone in her voice.
“I still keep Henning’s old hunting rifle,” Agnete says. “But it hasn’t been fired for ten years. I’m not even sure it works anymore.”
“Sure it does,” Chris says, looking up. “It probably just needs a good cleaning. I can do that no problem; I know a lot about rifles.”
Agnete smiles, but doesn’t answer right away. “That’s nice of you to offer,” she says. “I had hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that.”
“It probably will,” Charlotte says bluntly. “Sooner or later someone will bring the infection—or whatever we call it—to this island, and we’ll have to defend ourselves.”
Agnete nods, says nothing, then resumes eating slowly.
Iver feels like he needs to say something. “So … should we make a plan for what we’re going to do?”
Chris nods as he swallows the last mouthful of lasagna. “I say we begin right away with boarding up the windows and any other ways in. That’s first priority. Once the house is secured, we’ll need to ration the food and get our weapons ready. Since we only have one firearm, we’ll need to make clubs and maybe spears. Also, we’ll need to—”
“Goodness gracious!” Agnete exclaims. “Clubs and spears? You can’t be serious?”
&n
bsp; “I am,” Chris says grimly. “I am very serious.”
“You sound like you assume we’re going to war here.”
“No, war is very different,” Chris says immediately. “Trust me, I’ve been stationed in Syria for two years. What we’re dealing with here is a lot simpler. It’s also a lot more dangerous.”
Iver is surprised to learn that Chris is a soldier. From what he knows about him—which isn’t a lot—he took him to be the typical wannabe tough guy who doesn’t have any real friends and acts like he doesn’t need them either. He lives alone and spends him free time gaming online. Also, he looks way too scrawny to have served in the military. And Iver didn’t take him to be much older than himself. But looking at Chris now, Iver gets the feeling his plain looks might be deceiving. And quite a few things actually make sense now. Like the way he just seems to have shut off his emotions from the minute they got in the lifeboat. Or how he seems oddly prepared—even anticipating—a situation like this. Or how Charlotte went straight to him when she learned about the threat on the ferry. She probably already knew about his past in the military.
“I’m with Chris,” Charlotte says, confirming Iver’s suspicion. “We need to take every precaution we can think of. This might not be over any time soon.”
Agnete looks at them in turn, then glances over at the far end of the living room. Iver follows her gaze and sees an old piano standing there. On it sits a black-and-white wedding photo.
“All right,” Agnete says, nodding. “We’ll do it your way. I suspect it might be—”
“Sssh!” Chris suddenly hisses, looking like he’s listening for something. “What’s that?”
They all keep quiet for a moment. And they all hear a deep, faraway blaring of a horn of some sorts.
Agnete gasps. “That’s the air raid siren. They said they would sound it if any infected were spotted anywhere on the island …”
Agnete has barely finished the sentence before Chris is on his feet, pointing at them in turn. “Quick, Charlotte, go lock the front door and check for any other ways in! Iver, go upstairs and look out the windows; if you see anyone approach the house, you yell out!” Lastly, he turns to Agnete. “Where’s that gun?”