The Collapse Omnibus

by V. A. Brandon

  Unsurprisingly, Patrick raised his hand.

  “And who wants to go right?”

  Amy and Marie raised their hands.

  “Aren’t you two voting?” Amy asked Daniel and Justin.

  “I go where my wife goes,” Daniel said simply.

  Justin shook his head. “I don’t care where we go, Amy. All that matters to me is that we stick together. Separation is not an option.”

  She patted his arm. “Don’t worry; that won’t happen.” With feigned determination, she strode toward the right passage, listening carefully. Silence greeted her. No hisses, growls, or shuffling sounds. She prayed that it would remain that way.

  “C’mon, let’s get this over and done with,” she sighed.

  They huddled once again and moved toward the darkness.

  ***

  They had been lucky so far. The passage was wide and spacious; to their left and right were empty window shops and kiosks, waiting for new business owners to rent the place. It was like a mini mall. A couple of times, smaller intersecting tunnels left them confused as to which direction they should go. In the end, they always opted to go straight ahead; it was as if a sixth sense was telling them that something good would be waiting for them at the end of the passage.

  One time, Patrick let out a breathless scream when he stepped on a soft and squishy object. Startled, Marie dropped her candle. The candle stub rolled on the ground, revealing a bloated, shadowy face staring back up at them. There were small bite marks all over the skin.

  “Is it a dead Runner?” Amy asked, swallowing the bile rising in her throat.

  Crouching, Justin examined the dead body. “No. It’s a dead person. He doesn’t seem to have been bitten by Runners, though.” He reached out and felt along the cold body, checking for signs of bites. “By the looks of things, he probably escaped from the Runners, and then died from natural causes like a heart attack.”

  “Those must be rat bites on his face,” Daniel observed. He looked up, quickly looking in both directions. “I wonder where he was running from.”

  The answer soon became plainly obvious. The man’s prostrate position revealed that he had been running away from the tunnel – away from the direction in which they were heading now.

  Maybe it was Runners waiting for them at the end of the passage, after all.

  “What do we do?” Amy asked. “Should we go back?”

  Indecision flickered in Justin’s face. “We’re almost there. For all we know, the Runners could have moved on to another place.”

  “That’s true.” Amy picked up the candle and blew out the small flame. Instead of tossing the candle aside, she pocketed the warm stub. They could use it again later by balancing it on a flat surface.

  “We can take a quick look,” Daniel suggested. “A couple of us will go up and check if there are Runners. If we are quiet and do not attract attention, it should be fine.”

  Everyone in agreement, they made their way to the end of the passage.

  Minutes later, they stood before a wide flight of stairs, gazing up at the faint moonlight filtering in. They were reluctant to go up. Sounds of hisses and snarls traveled down to where they were standing.

  There were Runners outside. And by the sounds of it, there were several roaming about.

  They pressed themselves against the wall. “Let’s go back,” Patrick whispered, fear plain on his face. “Let’s go. Right now.”

  He was right. But they had to do one thing before leaving.

  Amy glanced at Justin. “Let’s take a quick peek. We need to know where we are. And maybe it’s not so bad.” She gave the group a weak grin. “Maybe there aren’t that many Runners out there.”

  Justin nodded. “All right. Amy and I will go up and take a look. I want the rest of you to stay here, away from sight.” His lips thinned. “And in the offchance that one of them does spot us, be prepared to run.”

  With that said, Amy and Justin blew out their candles and tiptoed up the concrete stairs.

  The full moon hung in all its glory, allowing Amy to see. She and Justin crouched and raised their heads, peeking above the ground. Her stomach dropped as she saw shops, alfresco restaurants, the blood-stained fountain, broken windows, and ravaged bodies lying on the ground. In the midst of all this, about twenty or so Runners shuffled around, some falling to their bony knees to consume the scattered remains of the corpses.

  “I don’t believe this,” Amy whispered, recognizing the place.

  Justin gripped her shoulder, squeezing hard. “We’ve seen enough. Let’s go.” And he pulled her down the stairs.

  Amy’s mind reeled. How could this have happened? Just the day before, they had been on the highway. They had been chased down an unfamiliar interchange by dozens of Runners. At the end of that road, they had entered a newly constructed network of tunnels, hoping to find a safe shelter for the night. Instead of safety, however, the passageway had brought them right back to where it all began, the place where they were running from, where everyone had been running from since day one.

  The tunnel had brought them right on the outskirts of Central Creek Mall.

  Chapter 8

  “Well?” Patrick asked when Amy and Justin came back down. “So where are we?”

  The two exchanged quick glances. Motioning that they should follow him, Justin led the group away from the stairs, heading deeper into the dark.

  “What did you see?” Daniel asked softly.

  Justin came to a stop and spun around. “We have bad news,” he answered abruptly.

  Patrick let out a loud, frustrated groan. “What is it? Get to the point already!”

  “Hey!” Amy said fiercely. “Quiet down, will you?” She nervously eyed the stairs and lowered her voice to a whisper. “There are about twenty Runners outside, and we don’t want to grab their attention.”

  That bit of information promptly shut Patrick up.

  “We need to leave,” she continued. There was no point in delaying it; they had to know. Softly, she added, “We’re at Central Creek Mall. It’s right above our heads.”

  Patrick let out a shaky breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  The whole outbreak had started at this very location. Amy could still clearly remember eating breakfast with Justin and hearing about the news on the radio. That had taken place a few weeks ago. So much had happened since then.

  “We can go back into the tunnel and leave from another exit,” Marie said, hugging Walter closer to her. “Maybe it will lead us away from the mall.”

  “It’s better than hanging around here,” Justin agreed. “Okay, let’s go –”

  A low growl escaped from Walter’s snout, growing more vicious with each second.

  Marie instantly clamped her fingers around his snout. “Please, Walter! Be quiet. Shh, shh. Good boy. Shh.”

  But he kept growling, writhing in Marie’s arms.

  At first, Amy couldn’t hear a thing. Then her ears picked up a familiar sound – ragged breathing. Around the same time she realized they weren’t alone in the dark, Daniel lifted his fire poker, pushing the pointy end outward.

  “Put that down,” ordered a soft, accented voice. “If you don’t, I will shoot you. I have a gun.”

  Amy’s fear blossomed in her chest. Had those thugs followed them all the way here? But how? Were they in the tunnel now?

  A lean man of below-average height stepped forward, and Amy jumped when she saw the weird device strapped to his head. It took a moment for her to realize that he was wearing night-vision goggles. The man paused, then slipped the heavy goggles off, revealing the features of an Asian man with balding gray hair.

  “Put out the candles,” he said. “One of you hold onto me. The rest of you, form a line behind your friend and link hands so you don’t get lost.”

  His serious tone left no room for argument. Not knowing what else to do, they complied with the stranger’s orders.

  Instant darkness swathed them as they extinguished the sm
all flames one by one. Amy blinked, suddenly frightened. Before, those small flames had felt insufficient. But now that they were gone, she realized how much comfort the scant light had provided.

  “Very good,” the man said. “Now follow me. Don’t be afraid.”

  The man led them through the suffocating darkness and away from the Runners above.

  ***

  It turned out that the man had gone through a staff door, down a narrow corridor, and into a gray room. To Amy’s delight, two LED lanterns sat at either ends of the room, giving the place much needed lighting. She could see cleaning products and brand-new mop buckets. And cushions. Lots of cushions and folded blankets.

  “Where are we?” she asked the man as he ushered them in and closed the door.

  “My office,” he replied as he moved items around to make more room for his guests. “I’m one of the cleaning supervisors at Central Creek Mall.” He reached for the tall bottle sitting on a small round table and poured water into five paper cups. He handed them out one by one.

  “Thank you,” Daniel said, accepting the cup with both hands.

  “Where did you get the water from?” Patrick asked as he threw his head back and gulped the water thirstily.

  “My urine,” the man said without missing a beat, causing Patrick to spit out the remaining water in horror.

  The man calmly wiped the spots of water off his face. “I’m sorry; that was a terrible joke. It’s bottled water from one of the mall supermarkets.” He gave them a small, apologetic grin. “You can drink it. It’s safe.”

  With nervous laughter, they drank the water and quenched their thirst. The man also gave some to Walter, who lapped at the water gratefully from a small cup.

  He told them to put their belongings in the office, then led them out into the darkened corridor and into the next room. Like the office, the place was lit with lanterns. Besides a lone, rectangular table in the middle and folding chairs stacked against the wall, the place was mostly empty. In its former life, the place had probably been some type of meeting room for the supervisors.

  The man introduced himself as Kang Min Soo as he leaned over a portable cooking stove and unwrapped something. He peered intently, poking at it with a finger.

  “Still warm. Very good.” He looked up at his guests. “Are you hungry?”

  Everyone nodded.

  Mr. Kang grunted. “Hmph. Good thing I made enough food. Grab a chair and make yourselves comfortable. We’re having real meat tonight.”

  Minutes later, they sat at the table, armed with plastic utensils. Amy stared at the plateful of cooked “meats” presented whole before them. There was something familiar about their size and shape . . .

  “Mr. Kang, this looks great. What kind of meat is it?” she asked politely.

  He gave her a smile. “It’s guinea pig.” After a pause, he added, “You’re not squeamish about that, are you?”

  “No, of course not.” They had mostly subsisted on canned meals and junk food for weeks. As long as it wasn’t someone’s pet, she was fine with it.

  Hungrily, Patrick reached over and sliced off a haunch. “This looks fantastic. Where did you find them?”

  “Well . . .” Mr. Kang scratched at his neck; he looked as if he were contemplating whether to tell them or not. “I got them from the pet store on the second floor,” he said finally. “When I got there, they were the only animals that were still alive.”

  Hearing that, Amy did feel briefly squeamish; in fifth grade, her class had kept two guinea pigs, a male and a female. Every Friday afternoon, she and a friend had always cleaned out the cage and replaced the soiled newspaper with fresh ones. She remembered their plump and furry cuteness, and most of all, their incessant squeaking.

  On second thought, Amy didn’t feel that bad about eating them, after all.

  They helped themselves to the meat, their appetites voracious. It felt good to eat food that wasn’t bottled, canned, or packaged. Silence fell upon them, their focus entirely on the act of shoveling warm food into their gaping mouths.

  At their feet, Walter made a pitiful sound, raising a questioning paw. Mr. Kang wiped his greasy fingers on his baggy pants and looked down at the dog.

  “Feeling left out, eh?” When he stood up to get an extra plate for Walter, Daniel stood up as well.

  “He has his kibbles. You do not have to –”

  Mr. Kang brushed off Daniel’s protests with a wave of his hand. “Oh, it’s all right. In fact, let’s mix up his kibbles with a little meat. Bet he’ll appreciate that.”

  Marie stood up as well, looking apologetic. “Then he can have my portion. Please sit and eat your meal, Mr. Kang. I will prepare Walter’s dinner.” And before he could say anything else, she hurried outside and into the next room to get the kibbles.

  When everyone finished their meal, they helped Mr. Kang clean the table and the utensils with wet tissues. Amy eyed the tub of baby wipes as she cleaned beside Marie. Gently, she nudged her friend on the side to get her attention.

  “It’d be nice to clean ourselves up, too. Let’s grab that and go to the next room.” She wrinkled her nose. “I really want to get this stink off me.”

  Marie nodded, pleased. “Yes, let us do that. I am sure Mr. Kang will not mind.” And they both snuck outside with the tub tucked underneath Amy’s shirt.

  The two women laughed as they wiped their bodies from head to toe. Although it felt gross to put their old clothes back on, they had managed to wipe off most of the dirt on their skin. And really, it was better than nothing.

  Feeling somewhat refreshed, they returned to join the others in the next room. To their delight, the aroma of coffee greeted them as they walked in. In the far corner, Patrick sat with his legs crossed, hunching protectively over his plastic cup.

  “I was wondering where you’d gone,” Mr. Kang said, smiling as he handed Amy and Marie two steaming cups. “Drink up, all of you.” His smile slowly disappeared as he added, “And after we’re done, we have to talk.”

  Chapter 9

  “What were you doing in the tunnels?” Mr. Kang blew at his coffee before taking a noisy sip.

  “We were looking for shelter,” Justin explained. “This morning, our car was stolen, and we had to walk on foot all the way here.” He shook his head, still disbelieving. “Honestly? We were damn lucky to have run into you. We really had no idea where to go.”

  Amy leaned forward, brimming with curiosity. “What about you, Mr. Kang? Why are you alone here? Were you here from the very beginning? Did you witness what happened?”

  Mr. Kang laughed. “So many questions! But we have plenty of time, so I’ll answer them.” He settled comfortably in his chair. Judging by his lively face, Amy could tell that he was the type who enjoyed recounting a good tale to his audience.

  “My wife and I have been working as cleaners at Central Creek Mall for fifteen years. Fifteen years! How time flies.” A faraway expression filled his eyes. “We were defectors from North Korea. Let me tell you, it was tough trying to escape from that wretched hellhole. But on a winter night, we managed to somehow cross the border into China and stay hidden there for five months. With the help of a Korean missionary worker, we were able to enter South Korea. But it was difficult to adjust. So much food! All the bright lights! Not to mention cultural differences. After about two years or so, we were still struggling.

  “It was odd. We shared a common ancestry and history with the South Koreans, and yet we felt like complete foreigners there. So we thought, ‘Why don’t we move to a faraway country, then? Either way, we’re still going to feel like foreigners. Might as well feel like one in a western country.’ The idea grew on us as time went on. With excitement, we made plans, applied for visas, and immigrated to the United States.”

  He paused, sipping at his coffee. “My English was extremely poor back then. So when my wife and I came to America, the first thing we did was attend a local Korean church. There, we found kind people who were willing to help us find a
job, any job. We became cleaners at Central Creek Mall. It was a blessing that we could earn money and put food on the table. I was eventually promoted to supervisor, and we continued working there, year after year. Life was simple and good.

  “Several weeks ago, my wife and I drove to the mall, ready to begin another day’s work. She wanted to stop by at the supermarket to buy a few things, so we made a small detour before going to the office.” Mr. Kang’s face crumpled. “And that was the beginning of the end.”

  “What happened?” Marie breathed.

  A deep line formed between his brows. “There was a lot of commotion on the first floor. At first, people were running and screaming. Then minutes later, they were running . . . and tearing.” He blinked and gazed up at the ceiling. “So much blood. The floors became slippery with blood and vomit and smashed organs. For a frightening second, I lost my grip on my wife’s hand. She was a few paces behind me. When I went back for her, I saw a large man slam into her side. It all happened so fast! Before I knew it, she was trying to tear my throat out with her teeth.”

  His breathing grew ragged. “What could I do? I ran like the coward I was. To this day, she’s still wandering around inside the mall. It’s like she’s waiting for me to return to her.”

  No one knew what to say after that. Even Patrick seemed at a loss for words.

  After a long stretch of awkward silence, Amy croaked out, “So you’ve been alone all this time?”

  Mr. Kang shook his head no. “I couldn’t get out of the mall; there was a mad rush at the entrance, where people were getting trampled on. When I did manage to stumble outside with a bunch of screaming people, I tripped over a young man who’d toppled over a bench. I later found out that he was a reporter. Together, we ran down the tunnel, then entered the staff door and locked ourselves in here for days.” A sound of deep frustration rumbled in his throat. “The fool would still be alive today if he hadn’t ventured outside on his own to look for his cameraman’s equipment.”

  A reporter! Amy sat up, filled with questions again. “Did he tell you anything?” she asked with eagerness. “About the source of this virus? Did he say who was responsible?”