Days 54 to 61 (Mass Extinction Event 12)

by Amy Cross

  “Nothing,” the other technician says, turning to Patterson. “Sir, there are no unidentified signals being generated within two hundred miles in any direction. We'd pick them up, even if they were just hobbyists.”

  “Try again in twenty-four hours,” Patterson replies, “and keep working to broaden the range. I want to be able to contact some of the other bases. We desperately need to start coordinating our efforts.”

  “How many bases are there?” I ask.

  “As far as we can tell, at least three are operational, including this one.”

  “Then there's hope!”

  “It's not much,” he says, “but... Sure, I guess you could -”

  Before he can finish, a radio starts crackling on his belt. He grabs it and raises it to the side of his face.

  “Patterson,” he mutters, before listening to someone on the other end. “Yes, Sir, she's right here. Yes, she knows the basics.” He listens for a few more seconds. “Absolutely, Sir, I don't think there's really a right or a wrong time. We've just carried out another sweep, but -” He pauses. “Okay, Sir. That sounds good. See you soon.” Lowering the radio, he turns to me. “He's on his way. He'll be here any minute.”

  “Who?” I ask, struggling to understand what's happening.

  “Who do you think?”

  “Toad?”

  “I'm sorry, no. It's not him.” He pauses for a moment. “Do you think this is all random, Elizabeth? The fact that we found you and brought you to the nearest base? The fact that we sent a patrol out to scour the forest until they found your foot? The fact that we knew your name before you even told us? Don't worry, he'll explain everything when he gets here.”

  “Who?” Starting to panic, I turn to the door as I realize I can hear approaching footsteps outside.

  “You're one very lucky young lady,” Patterson says. “I only wish we'd been in time to save your brother.”

  “My brother?” I turn back to him. “What do you know about Henry?”

  The footsteps get closer and suddenly stop.

  “Hello, Lizzie.”

  I freeze. I know that voice, but I don't dare to turn around. It's as if I'm in a dream, or maybe a nightmare, or maybe both, but as my heart starts pounding in my chest I realize that this whole situation is horribly, achingly real. For a moment, I actually feel as if I might be about to faint.

  “Lizzie,” the male voice continues, “don't you have something to say to me?”

  I pause for a few more seconds, with tears in my eyes, before finally I turn toward the door and I see him.

  “It's okay,” he says. “I can explain everything.”

  It's him.

  It's really him.

  “Dad,” I whisper, as tears start running down my face. “What are you doing here?”

  Day 55

  Thomas

  By the time I get back to the campsite, having searched for hours in an attempt to find Quinn, the sun has been down for a few hours and I figure it must be close to midnight, maybe a little over. I scramble down the shallow incline that leads from the ridge and start making my way toward my tent, but at the last moment I realize I can hear someone coughing over by the water's edge.

  Heading past the last of the tents, I see two figures sitting a little further off, and one of them is patting the back of the other in an attempt to help with the coughing.

  “Hey,” I say as I reach them, having already figured out that it's Melissa and her daughter Katie. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” Melissa splutters, before collapsing into more coughs.

  “She gets like this sometimes,” Katie says. She's just a kid but, like so many people around here, she's had to grow up fast. I've seen her around over the past few days, carrying buckets for the older women and trying to help any way she can. This is no life for a little girl.

  “It's just asthma,” Melissa tells me, taking a series of deep breaths as she tries to stay calm. “I've had it all my life.”

  “Has it always been this bad?” I ask.

  She doesn't answer; instead, she starts coughing again.

  “Do you know how to make it stop?” Katie asks, turning to me. In the moonlight, I can just about see the worried expression in her eyes.

  “Just keep doing what you're doing,” I reply, glancing back toward the tents for a moment. The truth is, I don't have a clue how to help.

  “Where have you -” Melissa starts to ask, before breaking down and coughing again. She takes some more deep breaths. “Where have you been? You were gone for hours.”

  “I had to go and check on Quinn,” I tell her.

  “What does she want? Is she still hanging around nearby?”

  “I'm not sure,” I mutter, thinking back to the blood I found on the rocks. “I have to go back and look tomorrow, but I couldn't manage much in the darkness. It was too hard to see.”

  “What about earlier?” Melissa asks, clearly struggling to keep from coughing again. “You went off with Mark, didn't you? What's it like beyond the eastern point?”

  “What has he told you?”

  “Just that we must never go there. Something about disease, I think. He wasn't very clear or -” She breaks down, coughing again.

  “It's messed-up,” I mutter, shuddering as I think about those creatures in the pit, and the way they tore Jacqueline's body apart like savage animals.

  “Is it scary?” Kate asks.

  I turn to her, but I don't even know where to begin.

  “I think it's because of the dead people,” Melissa says after a moment, her voice strained from all the coughing. “When someone dies, they're taken past the eastern point. I'm not sure what gets done with them, but Mark mentions dignity a lot.”

  “I bet he does.”

  “So it all figures, really,” she continues. “He doesn't want us going near the dead bodies, because then there might be a problem with disease. I'm sure he buries them properly, but still, resources are limited. The best thing is just to leave the dead be, and not have people trampling around.”

  “Why do people die?” Katie asks.

  “Don't worry about things like that,” Melissa replies, pulling her close and giving her a hug. “Not right now.”

  “Are we going to die?”

  “No way, sweetie. There's nothing -” Before she can finish, she starts coughing again.

  “Grandpa's dead, isn't he?”

  “No,” I tell her, “I don't think he is. He's going to find you guys eventually.”

  She smiles at this, but the smile just reminds me that I might be wrong.

  “You're right about the eastern point,” I say after a moment, turning to Melissa and figuring that I shouldn't tell her the truth, not yet. If people found out what Mark was doing, they'd most likely panic, and I need more time to come up with a plan. Either that, or I could just get out of here. After all, these people aren't really my friends, and with the way the world is right now, I figure everyone just has to look after their own stuff. I'm no hero. “It's just dead bodies, nothing to worry about.”

  “I'm really okay, you know,” Melissa continues. “This is just asthma, you don't have to worry about me. It comes and goes, but I'm not sick.” She pauses for a moment. “I'm not,” she adds finally, as if she's desperate to convince me. “Don't let people start thinking there's something wrong with me, 'cause there's not. If they start thinking I'm ill, they might run me out of the camp-site and I can't survive on my own. I swear, I'm okay!”

  “I know that,” I reply.

  “Katie,” she continues, “can you get me some water from the lake?”

  “I'll do it,” I tell her. “I'll get some that's cleaner, there's a barrel over near my tent. I think it's been filtered.”

  Heading away from them, I make my way between the tents before finally reaching one of several barrels of clean water that have been left out for people to drink during the night. Kneeling down, I take a cup and check that it's not dirty, before starting to fill it from the bar
rel. It's the least I can do for her, but right now it feels like the only thing I can do. I can still hear her coughing, and although I want to believe that she just has asthma, I'm starting to worry that something's more seriously wrong.

  “Hey,” Luke whispers suddenly, emerging from the darkness to sit next to me. “How's it going?”

  “Jesus!” I reply, startled.

  “Not quite,” Bobby adds, appearing on my other side, as if they'd been loitering in the darkness and waiting for me. I feel like I've been pincered. “Close enough, though.”

  “So what's up with your friend?” Luke asks, as Melissa can still be heard coughing in the distance.

  “Asthma. It's nothing.”

  “Doesn't sound like nothing to me,” Luke continues. “Sounds like she's sick, like she's almost throwing her guts up.”

  “I don't reckon that's asthma,” Bobby says. “My cousin had asthma, it was never as bad as that.”

  “She's fine,” I say firmly.

  “Don't get so defensive,” Luke replies, nudging me in the ribs with his elbow. “What is she, your girlfriend now? Are you getting some of that ass?” He leans closer and hisses excitedly: “Fuck, man, are you?”

  “Shut up,” I whisper under my breath.

  “It's natural for people to get sick,” Bobby points out. “Like Mark told us all one time, sickness is part of the circle of life, just like childbirth and fucking and all that other good shit. The thing is, though, if she's not well, it might be something that spreads to the rest of the site and, well, we've got a duty to isolate anyone who shows symptoms! That's not superstition, that's science!”

  “She's not sick!” I say firmly, filling the cup and then getting to my feet. “It's asthma, it's not something that can be spread from one person to another.”

  “What if it's more than asthma?” Luke asks. “What if it's asthma and something else, what if she's got the sickness too? Every time she coughs, she could be spreading it further! There could be this, like, cloud of illness all around her. The kid's probably got it by now, maybe you have too.”

  “You don't know what you're talking about.”

  “We'll have to ask Mark about it,” he continues. “Do you wanna come with us? It might do you some good to prove that you're on our side instead of protecting someone who might harm the community. Mark notices things like that, you know, and he takes it real seriously. Just 'cause he's bringing you into the group that's in charge, you still need to show that you're with us, if you know what I mean. No-one likes traitors.”

  “I'm taking her some water,” I reply, “and you really don't need to go to Mark. She just has asthma. Wait until the morning, you'll see that she's fine.”

  Turning, I make my way past the tents, heading back over toward Melissa. She's still coughing when I reach her, but she seems to improve a little after she starts drinking the water.

  “Who were you talking to?” she asks.

  “No-one.”

  “I thought I heard you.”

  “No,” I lie. “Must've been someone else.”

  “Please don't let people think I'm sick,” she gasps eventually, between sips. “I've seen it before. All it takes is a few whispers, and then soon everyone's talking about it, and rumors spread and -”

  She starts coughing again, spilling some of the water in the process.

  Glancing back toward the main camp-site, I can see that Luke and Bobby are watching us like jackals, and I don't doubt for one moment that they'll go and report the situation to Mark. As Melissa continues to cough, I can't shake the feeling that she's already being lined up as the next person to be taken to that goddamn pit.

  Elizabeth

  “The first thing you have to do,” he says as he leads me into one of the offices and shuts the door, “is calm down. You're still weak, Lizzie, so too much excitement might -”

  Before he can finish, I put my arms around him and hug him tight. For a moment, it just feels good to have him close. I'd already accepted weeks ago that everyone else from my family was dead, and now suddenly my father has appeared right in front of me. It's like a miracle, and I swear I'm trembling so much, I feel like I might faint.

  “I missed you too,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “You have no idea how desperately I've been trying to find you. The moment I realized there was a chance... I moved heaven and earth to track you down.”

  “I left the apartment,” I tell him, still holding him tight. “We waited and waited, but eventually...”

  “I know,” he replies. “I finally managed to get someone to go and look for you, but they said the place was empty. The windows were broken and the whole building was a mess.” He pauses for a moment, and I know what question is coming next: “Lizzie, is Henry with you?”

  “Henry?” I pause, wondering how I can ever tell him what happened. “I left a note in the apartment,” I continue. “Didn't you get it?”

  “No-one told me about a note,” he replies. “I couldn't go to the apartment personally, I was too tied up with trying to deal with things, but some men were sent. If you left a note, I guess they didn't find it.” Another pause. “Is Henry not with you, Lizzie?”

  “Henry's...” I take a deep breath, and suddenly I realize there are tears in my eyes. Pulling him tighter, I try not to cry, but all the fear and horror of the past few weeks is starting to come out and my bottom lip starts trembling. “Henry's gone.”

  I wait for him to reply.

  Silence.

  “Did you hear me?” I ask eventually, wiping away tears. “Henry's -”

  “I heard you.” He doesn't say anything for a moment. “What... What happened?”

  Pulling back, I stare at him and see that his eyes are dry, as if he's forcing himself not to cry.

  “You don't have to tell me now,” he continues. “I understand if -”

  “No, it's okay,” I reply. “He... It was that guy who lived in the building. Do you remember Bob?”

  He shakes his head.

  “He was a maniac,” I continue, feeling a shiver of hatred as I think back to Bob's grinning face. “He tried to take control, he divided everyone and eventually he gave Henry a gun. We argued a lot, and Henry didn't understand why I hated the situation.”

  “When you say he gave Henry a gun...”

  “He recruited him, like a soldier.”

  “So this Bob guy was just organizing the building?”

  “It was more than that. It was almost like he was happy that the world had gone to hell, because it meant he could try to take over everything. Everything in that building, anyway.”

  “Maybe he had the right idea.”

  “You didn't see him,” I continue, “and you didn't see the way he messed with Henry's head. And then at the end, he...” I pause for a moment, thinking back to that horrific moment. Before I can say anything, however, tears start flowing again and I start to sob.

  “It's okay,” my father says, putting his arms around me. “Was it an accident? With Henry and the gun, I mean.”

  “It was him,” I reply, struggling for breath. “It was Bob. He killed him in cold blood, and then... He came for me too but I fought back. I stabbed him, but it was self-defense.”

  “Of course it was.” He pauses. “Were you with Henry when he died?”

  I nod. “I buried him too.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  Pulling back, I see the sadness in his eyes. “I'm sorry I couldn't look after him. I tried, I swear, I did everything...”

  “Henry was lucky to have you,” he replies. “I just wish you hadn't been left alone like that.”

  “Where's Mom?”

  He opens his mouth to reply, but something seems to be holding him back.

  “Is she here?” I continue, even though I can already guess the answer. “Did she make it too?”

  He shakes his head.

  “What happened to her?” I ask, as tears run down my face. It's crazy, I assumed both my parents were dead weeks ago, but no
w I'm mourning her all over again. “How did you get away and she didn't? And what are you doing here, I still don't understand!”

  “That's a lot of questions at once,” he replies. “The truth is, I was at the airport with your mother when all of this happened. It started so suddenly, I was in the bathroom just after we'd landed and I got a call from one of my colleagues in Boston. I could tell immediately that it was serious, and because of my experience treating patients with rare communicable diseases, they wanted me to get to one of their labs immediately. I...” He pauses, as if the next part is hard for him to explain. “I told your mother there was nothing to worry about,” he continues finally, “and I put her in a cab so she could get home to you guys, and I kissed her. And the very last thing I said to her was that I'd be home in twenty-four hours.”

  I wait for him to continue, but the words seem to have dried on his lips.

  “And then what?” I ask after a moment.

  “And then I watched the cab pull away, and a few seconds later a driver arrived to take me to Boston. By that point, we knew we couldn't necessarily risk air travel. I thought I'd only be gone for a short while, Lizzie, you have to believe me. A night at most.”

  “Mom never made it home,” I tell him.

  “I know that.”

  “But there's a chance she's still out there!”

  He shakes his head.

  “There is!” I continue. “Don't you get it? You're alive, so it's totally possible that Mom's out there somewhere! We have to go back to New York and look for her! She might be waiting at the apartment!”

  “No, Lizzie...”

  “We can't give up on her! There's no body, there's no -”

  “There's a body,” he replies, with a hint of tears in his eyes. “She's buried by the side of the road, just outside Manhattan. I haven't been to the grave myself, but maybe some day...”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, trying not to believe what he's saying. “If you haven't been there, you don't know, you're just guessing...”

  He walks over to the window and looks out for a moment, before turning back to me.