“Can you hear anything?” asked Harper.
The others paused. From somewhere deeper in the city, there was the sound of alarms wailing. But the noise remained constant. It wasn’t the sound of an emergency vehicle coming to help, it was the sound of a warning that continued unceasingly, unheard by anyone but them.
“There’s no one left to turn it off,” whispered Sara.
“I can’t see anyone, can’t hear anyone. It’s like we’re the only ones left alive” Joe turned to Harper, his green eyes searching her face. She put her arm around him and drew him close. Sara joined them, and for a moment the three friends only held each other.
“We can do this,” said Harper in a low voice, gathering strength from her deepest reserves. She’d been through some bad shit in her time. She felt her resolve grow. “We need to get to the border. We are going to make it out of here alive. Let’s go.”
They grabbed each other’s hands again by some unspoken agreement and stepped down onto the black asphalt. They moved gingerly, tracking a path around the bodies that lay splayed over the ground.
“The car hire place is this way. We need to get the key,” said Joe, pointing to a nondescript building on the other side of the car park.
Above them, the night sky twinkled and the universe continued to expand, oblivious to the wretched torment of the three souls traipsing through death.
They walked over bodies and squeezed between cars until they reached the car hire office. It was a small glass shop front with narrow horizontal blinds and signage that was peeling and faded. The glass door was closed, but the lights were on inside. Joe dropped Harper’s hand and paused, his hand on the door. “Hello,” he called in a low voice. He put his face close to the glass and peered inside. “I can’t see anyone,” he said to the others.
“Let’s go inside,” said Sara, looking over her shoulder. “I’ve can’t shake the feeling we’re being watched...”
Harper couldn’t help but look back too, and she twisted her head from one side to the other, searching the car park for any movement. There was nothing, save for a lone plastic bag that floated across the asphalt on the wind.
Joe pushed the door and it opened with a loud creak and a jingle. Small brass bells hung from the inside door handle and they rang merrily. Sara followed Joe and held the door open for Harper. Once they were all inside, Sara let the door go and it slammed shut with a loud bang, the bells clanking against the glass. Harper jumped.
“Sorry,” said Sara, her face white. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and bit her lip. Harper looked around the small, dingy office. The carpet was worn and stained, and the walls yellowing from age. There was a peculiar musty smell in the air.
“Hello,” called Joe, walking up to the counter that reached his chest. An array of pamphlets advertising car hire options was displayed on the top. “Hello!” He reached the counter and leaned over. “She’s dead,” he said in the deadpan voice of someone who had already seen too much.
Harper joined him and leaned over the counter. A young woman with rich, auburn hair and high cheekbones, her lips moistened with a sheen of pale pink lip-gloss, lay on the carpet. Her face was frozen in a grimace of agony and the now familiar rivulet of blood ran from her nose and formed a small dark stain by the carper near her face.
“Irenka,” said Harper.
“What?” asked Sara, moving next to Harper.
“Irenka. It’s on her name badge.”
“Where’s the key, Joe?” asked Sara.
“I’m going to have to go back there and look,” he said reluctantly.
“Please hurry,” replied Sara.
Joe walked around the counter and over the woman’s legs, careful not to touch her. He looked around the low desk behind the counter, lifting papers and bumping a computer mouse. The screen came to life, casting its bright blue glare over Joe’s face as he continued to search the desk. “There’s no phone,” he commented. “And the computer is password protected.”
“She’s got a mobile in her hand,” croaked Harper.
Joe bent down to retrieve it, his nose wrinkling in disgust. But he entered a phone number and pressed it to his ear. “Nothing,” he said. “The network is still jammed, or something.”
“Did you see the key?” asked Sara.
“I’ll have a look out the back,” he muttered, edging around the woman in the narrow space. He disappeared through an archway and after a few beats called back to them, “I think I found it.” He emerged seconds later with a set of keys in his hand and a bleak expression on his face. “Let’s get out of here.”
They opened the door once more—the bells jangling loudly—and the cool night air wrapped itself around them. Harper shivered. They walked purposefully toward the Polo, sidestepping bodies and luggage strewn over the ground. Joe opened the Polo and stood with one leg inside the car, the other on the asphalt. He was looking around the car park. “How the hell are we going to drive out of here?”
“Every exit is blocked, look at how many collisions there’s been.” Harper swore loudly. “We’ll never get the car out of here!”
“Let’s get our stuff from the back,” said Sara. “We can find another car on the main road. But for now, we can go on foot.”
They retrieved their heavy rucksacks from the boot of the car and helped each other hoist them onto their backs. Harper looked at Wolf’s rucksack and slammed the boot quickly.
“Let me look for Wolf’s phone quickly,” she said to the others. She found it on the floor of the back seat. It was out of power. She slid it into her pocket beside her own, then joined the others. With their rucksacks on their backs, they had no choice but to sling their backpacks over their chests.
“Do we need all this stuff?” asked Sara.
“I think it’s better we take it with us for now,” said Harper. “We don’t know how long it’ll be until we get home. We may need some of this stuff.”
Joe nodded. “I think Harper’s right. We’ve got no idea about the condition of the road, or what we might find out there. This stuff might come in handy at some point.”
“Let’s go, then. This place…” Harper looked around at the dead bodies and felt the bile rising in her throat. “I can’t get out of here quickly enough.”
Sara nodded, pushing her glasses back in place with one finger. “I feel it too. This is just the beginning.”
They walked out of the car park in the middle of the street. Every few meters was a car, discarded or immobilized mid-crash. On their left, tall trees grew in a neat, orderly line. On their right, train tracks ran parallel to the street. There was no movement other than the gentle waving of branches above them as the breeze passed through.
As they walked away from the train station, Harper cast her eyes over the bodies on the road. Some were face down, their arms out, as though they’d died in the act of running away. Others were on their backs, their hands limp by the sides of their heads, their faces contorted in an eternal grimace.
“Look,” said Sara, her voice cracking. She pointed to a woman twenty feet down the road, her arms wrapped protectively around two small bodies as they lay in an undying embrace. Harper turned away, unable to look at the children’s faces.
“Once we get around this bend,” said Joe, “There is that hotel we stayed at when we first arrived at Bratislava. They might have a landline we can use. I’d like to try one more time to speak to the police, or our parents… someone. There might be an update as to what’s going on.”
They followed the street as it curved around back on itself and joined a wide five-lane road. Harper stared up at the electrical wires that crisscrossed above them. Dense green trees now lay between them and the railway track, and square, multistory communist-era concrete buildings rose on their right. The walls adjacent to the sidewalk were covered in scrawled graffiti.
“This thing must have hit at peak-hour,” commented Harper, taking in the vehicles packed tightly on the road ahead of them. “W
e’d never get a car through this wreckage. It’s impenetrable.”
Joe’s brow was furrowed. “We’ll need to stay on foot until we find a way through.”
Chapter Seven
They continued along the road, sidestepping their way around cars and people. Alarms wailed on and off, but there were no voices, no car engines—only a faint smell of smoke.
A red articulated bus, slouched bodies resting against the windows as though they were sleeping, had crashed into the high gray retaining wall on their right. Harper paused at the door of the bus and pushed on it. The door opened inwards and folded in on itself.
“What are you doing?” asked Joe.
“I just wanted to see if there was anyone in there still alive,” she replied. “I feel like we should… help…” But her feet remained firmly rooted on the spot, and she made no move to climb onto the bus.
“It’s no use, Harper,” said Sara. “They’re all gone.” Harper could see the driver in his neat blue uniform from where she stood on the road. He was chest down on the oversized steering wheel, his face a frozen mask of death. She knew Sara was right.
“Harper,” whispered Joe, approaching her from behind. He put his hand on her shoulder and they began to walk toward the hotel once more. From the dense green shrubbery tumbling over the retaining wall, there came a squawk that made them jump. A black bird rustled the leaves noisily and then flew off overhead. Further in the distance, between the siren wails, there was something else. “Is that dogs?” asked Sara. “I thought them barking earlier.”
“Yes, I think you’re right,” replied Joe. “So this sickness, whatever it is, kills humans but not necessarily other animals. The birds are okay. The dogs are okay.”
They reached the hotel, a square, utilitarian building matching the no-frills service offering inside. “It feels like we were here a lifetime ago,” commented Harper.
She recalled checking in with the others after arriving on the train from Paris. It was only a few short weeks ago. Wolf had insisted on carrying her into their room and had tripped at the doorway. They’d gone tumbling onto the carpeted hallway that had smelled faintly of mothballs. Harper had laughed so hard she could barely breathe. She choked back a cry at the memory, and Sara took her hand. “Let’s go in quickly and use the phone, then we can keep going toward the border. We’ll be out of here soon.”
Harper tightened her hand around Sara’s gratefully, and they walked in through the front door. It was quieter in the hotel lobby, the siren wails muted as the door closed behind them. On their right was a lounge area with several low tables surrounded by overstuffed vinyl sofas. Three young women sat on a sofa, mugs of coffee untouched on the table, their heads lolling back as though they were asleep. By the lifts, four bodies had fallen on the ground. Their bags were stacked neatly next to the lift door.
“How on Earth are we still alive?” asked Sara, staring at the bodies.
That could have been us, thought Harper.
“Maybe it will be us,” she whispered to herself. “One down, three to go.”
They walked to the check-in counter and peered over the top. A young man was lying on the ground, his face frozen, dried blood on his nose and upper lip. “I can see a phone,” said Joe. He strode around the counter, ignoring the body on the ground, and picked up the handset. He dialed a number and his eyes flicked to Harper’s face. He nodded, “It’s ringing.”
Harper held her breath as she stared at him. After a moment he said, “It’s me, Joe. I’m here with Harper and Sara.” Sara crossed the distance to Joe and pressed her ear to the other side of the phone. For a moment they talked over one another, both crying, overcome to finally make contact with their family. Joe and Sara fell silent, listening intently to the person on the other end of the phone. “So you think we should continue for the border?” asked Joe.
Sara spoke next, “Do they know what it is?” Sara listened and caught Harper’s eye. She shook her head: no. There was another long pause and she asked, “Can anyone help us?” Sara’s eyes were locked on Harper’s. She shook her head again. “So we’re on our own.”
Sara and Joe spoke for a few more moments before saying goodbye. Joe ended the call and handed the phone to Harper. “Thanks,” she whispered, taking it.
“It spread quickly,” said Sara. “But there are reports that it hasn’t gone beyond Bratislava and the initial outbreak in and around Rožňava. Hundreds of thousands are thought to have died, but the spread seems to have stopped since nightfall. The rest of the country is in the process of evacuating. They have set up border patrols and quarantine-processing centers.” She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and Harper could see her hands trembling. When she spoke again, Sara’s voice was heavy with emotion. “There are armed guards patrolling the borders with long-range rifles. There have been unconfirmed reports that they are shooting anyone who looks unwell.”
Harper felt her jaw tense. She exhaled and touched her hand to her temples where a headache was forming. “Let me call my parents quickly, then we can leave. We’ll walk out of the city where the road is quieter and we can find a car. We’ll be out of this nightmare soon.”
Harper looked at the phone in her hand. She knew she should call her mother first. She entered the number and put the handset to her head. There was silence, then a click and the dial tone. Her mother answered breathlessly a moment later.
“Harper!” she said. “Tell me you are okay. Where are you?”
“I’m okay, Mom,” replied Harper. She could feel her own tears falling. She turned away from the others, clutching the phone tighter to her cheek. “We’re still in Bratislava. Everyone is dead.” Her voice broke and she stifled a sob. She couldn’t bring herself to say out loud that Wolf was among them.
“Please get out of there as soon as you can. Your father said he got an email from you and you are heading to the Czech border?”
“That’s right, Mom.”
“Please don’t delay. They could close the quarantine-processing center there at any moment.” Harper’s mother began to cry. “Be safe, Harper.”
Harper paused. “I will.” She ended the call and dialed her father’s number. He answered on the second ring, and when she heard his voice, she got that familiar tight feeling in her chest.
“Hi, Dad,” she said.
“Harper. I’m so grateful you finally got through. Where are you? Who are you with?”
“We are in Bratislava near the train station. I’m with Joe and Sara.”
“What about Wolf?”
Harper felt her cheeks burn and her throat close up. She tried to speak, but every time she made a sound, her voice faltered. Her father gave her a moment, then said quietly, “I’m sorry, Harper. I know how close you both were.” Harper continued to cry silently. After another moment of silence, her father said, “I’ve been cleared to attend the quarantine center. I’m coming from London but they’ve suspended flights. I’m doing my best and I will find you. Just get out of Slovakia now, okay?”
“That’s the plan,” she said hoarsely.
“Remember to get food and water. Be prepared for every eventuality. You never know what could happen, how long before you get out of there.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“You’ve done so well to have survived this long. You’ll make it out of there, Harper. You’re a fighter. I love you.”
Harper wiped her eyes. “Do you know any more about what’s going on?”
There was a long pause. “Based on a few factors I can’t go into, it’s highly likely this is some kind of biological weapon. It might be domestic terrorism, but we can’t say for certain. I’ve been tasked with analyzing samples and we should know more soon. Keep that between us.”
“Trust me, there’s no one left to tell.”
There was a long pause. “I’m so sorry, my darling, for everything.”
Harper knew there was more to the apology than worry and empathy for what she was going through, but she didn’t have the capacity
to deal with that right now. Harper hung up the phone and turned back to Joe and Sara who were both staring at her.
“What did your dad say?” asked Joe.
“He asked me not to tell anyone, but what the hell. We could all be dead soon.” The others looked at her, waiting for her to continue. Harper laughed bitterly. “He said it might be a biological weapon, maybe terrorism. He’s trying to get to the quarantine center.”
Joe and Sara exchanged glances. The tension in the lobby was heavy, and Sara opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it. Harper was the first to speak. “We don’t know anything for certain. Let’s focus on getting out of here. Do you have any food in your packs? What about water?”
Sara looked in her backpack. “I don’t have much.”
Joe scanned the lobby. “We won’t find anything here—unless you fancy cold coffee.”
“Let’s find something as we walk,” said Harper. “I want to get out of here. This place…” Her voice trailed off.
Joe looked at the ground and seemed to read her thoughts, as usual. “I’m thinking about Wolf, too. He was a good friend.”
Harper smiled at him gratefully.
They exited the hotel and stood on the sidewalk. Harper could smell smoke and she looked around, but there was no fire in sight. Joe pointed in the direction they’d been walking. “We need to keep following this road. It’ll continue northwest and then join the main highway north toward the quarantine-processing center. As soon as the road clears, we’ll get a car.”
They walked for several moments in silence, the only sounds their six feet hitting the asphalt and the wind as it blew along the length of the road and through the trees. Occasionally they heard dogs barking but—for the moment—the wailing sirens had quieted.
“So we know that humans can survive this,” said Harper, breaking the silence. “But why us? Why has everyone else died?” Her eyes slid over a brown sedan with one wheel on the grassy strip in the middle of the road. In the driver’s seat a man sat with his head slumped on the steering wheel.
Death City: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (Dark Resistance Book 1) Page 5
