Sara nodded toward their scooters, which were twenty feet away. Natália and her brothers were between them and the scooters, standing next to a large white SUV. They were speaking in Slovak. The man with the gun held it by his side.
“What are they saying?” asked Joe to Tomas.
“They are talking about which way they should go to find more survivors,” the boy said in a small voice. Harper wanted desperately to hug him. Tomas listened again. “They want to build an army. They are mad at what has been done to us.”
“We understand that,” whispered Sara. “If someone did this on purpose, they’ll be held accountable.”
“They want to walk back to the city and look for people.”
“We need to move now,” said Harper quietly. “They are lunatics. I don’t want to risk any more time with them.”
“They have a gun, Harper,” said Joe, watching the weapon by the man’s side. “The minute you try to run or attack them, they’ll shoot you.”
Harper stared at the gun, thinking desperately for an answer. In one smooth movement, she slid her bag off her shoulder and reached inside for the knife that she took from the apartment. Sara’s eyed widened when she saw the blade in Harper’s hand.
“Don’t do it Harper, it’s not worth the risk,” she whispered, pleading. She reached out and grabbed Harper’s hand. “Please.”
Harper slipped her hand out of Sara’s and slid the knife into her back pocket, then hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder. Natália and the men were still deep in conversation. “If something happens to me, run. Don’t do anything but run.”
She walked toward the group. “Excuse me, Natália,” she said politely.
The woman swung around and stared at her. “What?”
“If we take the scooters, we’ll be able to travel faster. We want to help you find more survivors.”
Natália looked at Harper, her eyes narrowed. Harper ignored the fear that was worming its way through her body and continued to walk closer. She positioned herself just behind the man with the gun. “Those are our scooters over there,” she said, pointing to the vespas they had ridden earlier. Natália and her brothers looked where Harper was pointing.
Harper didn’t hesitate and slid the knife from her back pocket and leaped on the man with the gun. She drove the knife deep into his back. Natália’s mouth formed a wide, surprised circle and the man screamed in pain and dropped the gun. It seemed to hit the ground in slow motion. Harper waited for the gun to discharge, but somehow it simply clattered to the ground. She used the side of her foot to push the gun under the SUV, then pivoted on her foot and began to run toward the others.
Sara shouted her name, and Harper saw the fear on Tomas’ face. Then, there was a hand on the back of her shirt and she was snapped backwards as though on a piece of elastic. “You fucking bitch!” roared the voice behind her. A heavy arm swung across her head and knocked her sideways, then pushed her to the ground. She tried to break her fall but her face smashed into the asphalt and she tasted metallic blood.
There was a heavy weight on her back, and an arm leaning on her neck. “You are going to die,” said the voice, his breath hot on her ear. The pressure was intense and she struggled to take a breath. From somewhere close by she heard a bark and was vaguely aware of Erik growling beside her.
“Please,” she gasped out, for a moment trying to twist out from under him. But she knew from experience that she needed to go limp, to give the appearance that she had given up. Erik growled loudly and then she heard a pained yelp, followed by a high screech from Tomas. Erik’s tan and white body fell heavily by her face.
How the hell had things gone so badly? She looked at Erik’s body and felt a deep rage burning inside of her. As soon as she got the chance she was going to finish what she started.
But then, inexplicably, the weight on her back shifted and she was able to draw a deep, ragged breath. Men were speaking angrily in Slovak and she rolled over to get her eyes on them.
Lukas was standing a few feet from Natália and her brothers. They were staring at him, frozen, looks of horror on their faces. Harper got to her feet, not taking her eyes off Lukas and the others. The energy in Natália’s small group was pulsing with fear and unbridled rage.
Lukas had something in his hands but it was hard to make out in the dim light. She heard a quiet click, and then a flame ballooned from his fist. The effect was instantaneous and the man closest to Lukas screamed horribly, his clothes and hair catching alight. He dropped to the ground, half of his face already scorched, the flesh melting away as the flames consumed him.
Harper watched in horror as the man burned, the light illuminating Lukas. He wore a cool expression and Harper realized he had a cigarette lighter in one hand, and an aerosol can in the other. He released the pressure on the aerosol can and the flame stopped.
A lit cigarette hung from one lip and Lukas raised his hand to wave at the others behind Harper and then turned to her with an expression she couldn’t read. He flicked the cigarette lighter once more, depressed the aerosol can, and a stream of flames erupted from the can. The flame darted toward the other man, but he skirted it and began to sprint away, running to the six cars blocking the road. Natália froze, torn between helping her brother and her desire to escape, before turning to run.
“What the hell? What the hell!” Harper sprinted to the burning man who was rolling on the road, engulfed in flames, screaming. She stood over him and tore off her backpack, ripping off her shirt. In a surreal moment, she was acutely aware of the buttons popping off the shirt one-by-one.
She kneeled down and placed the shirt over the burning man, trying to suffocate the flames. She was so close that she could see the sickening damage inflicted on his face, the black, melted remains of his skin. His eyes stared back at her, his mouth a grotesque hole. The smell of burning flesh was overwhelming and bile rose in her throat.
Harper could hear herself screaming, could feel her hands shaking as she finally smothered the last of the flames. But it was too late. The man was silent, limp—gone. She saw the cobra-head in his hand and a wave of hysteria rolled over her. She dropped her head to the ground, sobbing, before strong hands pulled her up.
Next thing, she was over someone’s shoulder, being jostled up and down as they ran away from the burned man. She closed her eyes, willing the nightmare to end; willing Wolf to be alive; willing the man who had just burned to death under her hands to be alive. Willing the rest of the country to be alive.
She was turned upright and placed feet-first on the ground. Lukas brought his face close to hers, his arms were on her shoulders. “Harper,” he said. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew out a thin stream of smoke. “Harper, stay with us. We need to get out of here before those lunatics get back here.”
“Why the hell did you burn him?”
Lukas looked genuinely surprised. “They were about to kill you. Those sick Slovak Nation Brotherhood lunatics. They would have killed you all.”
Harper heard feet pounding the asphalt and when she looked up, the others had arrived. Sara was carrying Erik in her arms, and Joe had Tomas. Harper saw the distress on Tomas’ face, saw her own broken self reflected in his eyes.
She wanted this to end. She wanted to crawl somewhere deep and dark and hide until the storm passed.
Chapter Sixteen
Harper stood in the center of the dark road and felt her head explode like a supernova. Her thoughts were moving too quickly. Then, Sara hovered her pretty face in front of Harper’s, their eyes connecting. Her friend touched her shoulder and, piece-by-piece, Harper pulled the broken parts of herself back together. “Harper,” said Sara.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice trembling.
“We need to get out of here,” said Sara, “Before they come back. They’ll be looking for revenge and we don’t want to be here.”
Among the bodies scattered around the area, one stood out and her eyes once again fell on the charred remains of t
he man. She could see the cobra-head clenched in the black stump of his arm. The smell of burned flesh lingered in the air, but there was another odor that could only come from a fire consuming wood and plastic. When Harper looked around, the night sky was hazy from smoke now so thick the stars were barely visible.
“They ran that way,” Harper said, pointing toward the cars placed end-to-end across the road. “They must have put the cars there to stop any survivors leaving the city before they had a chance to recruit them for their army. They knew we weren’t Slovak when they heard us talking. They thought we did this. They thought it was some kind of biological weapon and we work for the EU or NATO…” her voice trailed off.
“They are fringe lunatics,” said Lukas. “But it is possible this was deliberate.”
“My father said that—”
“We don’t have time for this,” said Joe, cutting Harper off. He stared at her and shook his head almost imperceptibly. “Let’s get on the scooters and get out of here.”
“We should go back the way we came and find another way out of the city,” Harper said.
“No.” said Joe forcefully. “We need to get to the processing center before it’s closed, or this thing spreads, or some other awful thing happens. I won’t be in this hellhole for a moment longer than we need to be.”
“We could be shot,” Harper said. A vice-like pressure had clamped itself around her head. She pressed her fingers to her temples and rubbed them firmly. “They could be waiting just beyond the cars,” she continued, her voice more subdued.
“We can find a detour. Let’s go before they come back. It is me they will be after.” Lukas was still holding the aerosol can and he tossed it away as he spoke. It clattered to the ground loudly and rolled away under a car.
“I agree with Lukas,” said Harper, wincing. She knew Joe would be hurt at her words and see them as disloyal.
“This is a mistake,” retorted Joe. He set Tomas on his scooter and said something to him, patting his shoulder, before sitting down on the scooter himself. Joe stared in the direction of the cars blocking the highway, his mouth set in a thin line, his eyes narrowed.
“Is Erik okay?” asked Tomas in a small voice. At first Harper couldn’t hear him, and he repeated the words more loudly. Harper turned to Sara with a raised eyebrow and reached out to stroke the beagle. He was unconscious and unresponsive to her touch. She put her head close to his chest and saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
“He’s alive, buddy,” replied Harper. “But it looks like he has been knocked unconscious. But he’s a brave dog. He’s strong. He’ll be okay.”
Tomas’ face turned red and his bottom lip quivered as he tried not to cry. Joe swung an arm around him and pulled him close. “It’s okay to be upset. But Harper is right. Erik is going to be fine. He just needs to rest.” Joe’s voice was soothing and he held the little boy tight against him.
“He tried to save you,” Sara said softly to Harper. “When that man was on top of you, he just ran toward you, barking like mad. We couldn’t stop him.”
Harper nodded and stroked one of the dog’s floppy ears. “Thank you,” she whispered. And then louder, “Erik will be fine. We’ll look after him when we stop. I’m sure there’ll be someone at the quarantine center that can help him.” She turned to Sara. “Can you ride behind me and hold him?”
“Of course,” replied Sara. They walked to the pink scooter and Harper helped Sara on as she held tight to Erik. Harper slid in front of her, and they started the engine. Lukas was the last to get on his scooter.
“If we drive this way, we’ll be driving right in to the fire,” Joe said, but with less bluster this time. “We’ll be driving back into the city which is already ablaze.” Harper held her breath and listened, hearing what sounded like explosions in the distance. Cold sweat beaded across her skin. Every option seemed bad at this stage.
“We’ll turn off the highway as soon as we can,” replied Harper. “We’ll loop around and drive through the suburbs. We don’t need to go all the way into the city.”
Joe gave Tomas another hug and wiped his face with the corner of his jacket. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Lukas took the lead, weaving slowly around the cars on the road. Harper drove more slowly, conscious that Sara was holding onto her with only one hand. She could feel the heavy weight of Erik’s body wedged between them and she prayed that the beagle would be all right. She doubted Tomas would cope with another loved one dying. His body would survive, but his mind… she knew how long lasting the impacts would be.
She glanced in her side mirror and could see Joe close behind them. Tiny hands peeked around his waist. She turned her attention back on the road. The red light at the back of Lukas’ scooter zigzagged across the road and she followed it like a beacon. The air was getting thicker with smoke, and bright red flames engulfed buildings nearby.
“We need to get away from the highway,” yelled Sara. “The fires are getting worse.” Harper nodded. They wouldn’t be able to go much further.
They reached an intersection and Lukas stopped, his feet on the road, and waited for everyone to catch up. Ahead of them, toward the center of Bratislava, fires burned unabated. With no one to fight them, they were rapidly consuming the city. Soon there would be nothing left.
Several miles ahead, the road was completely consumed in flames. There was another bang, louder this time, as a car exploded in a huge fireball and the flames erupted brightly into the night sky.
To their right, beyond a tree-lined grassy rise, flames ravaged an entire suburb. Two and three-story apartment blocks burned devastatingly against the black sky. Entire families were killed by the pandemic. Now their homes are burning. Lives were being erased before Harper’s eyes. She wiped her face with the back of her arm, a mix of tears and sweat dampening her skin.
To their left, a four-lane road disappeared into a heavily forested area. Roofs sprang up sporadically amongst the leafy green canopy, but there was less smoke and fire in that direction. Lukas made eye contact with Harper and nodded. They had no choice.
They turned left and drove a short distance on an overpass that crossed a green space below. The tops of the trees were at the same height as the overpass and with the haze, it was as though they were driving through storm clouds above a forest. They reached the low crest of the overpass and began to ride downhill. At the next intersection, Lukas turned left again, so they were now riding parallel to the highway. Harper exhaled deeply. They were heading toward the processing center once more.
They rode for a quarter mile on a suburban street lined with modest homes and fenced-off yards. All the while, the air was getting steadily heavier and thicker with smoke, and Harper found herself coughing as the ash and grit in the air caught at the back of her throat.
Then, up ahead, the road was blocked. Harper’s heart sank as her eyes took in the wrecked car beneath a collapsed electricity pylon. The ragged ends of electrical wires flicked ominously, continuing to spit sparks that rained down on the concrete. Small fires burned along the length of the wires and pole. The mass of fire and unbridled electricity spanned the entirety of the narrow road. There was no way around.
“We have to go back!” yelled Joe over the crackling of the electricity.
“You’re right. Where are we going to go now, Lukas?”
“Follow me!” he yelled. His voice was calm, but Harper could see the panic in his eyes.
They turned around and drove back the way they came. The fires had caught up to them and the houses on their right were beginning to smolder and burn, the roar of flames getting louder. Small burning embers rained down on them and the sky above was filled with smoke, reflecting the light and turning the sky red.
“The fires are getting worse. What the hell are we going to do?” yelled Harper to Sara. There was no reply, but the one hand that held her squeezed tightly.
Lukas stopped up ahead and was indicating down a narrow road lined on both si
des by spruce trees. Harper turned the scooter down the track and they bumped over the rough road. Through the trees and darkness, a huge concrete structure emerged. She braked and pulled up next to Lukas. Behind her she could hear the engine of Joe’s scooter and he appeared beside her a moment later.
“What is it?” asked Joe.
“It is the Rázsochy Hospital,” said Lukas. “Come, we will be safe from the fire here.”
“We need to get to the quarantine center!” yelled Joe, but Lukas was already continuing up the rough, overgrown road toward the derelict structure.
Harper followed and soon they were at the foot of the sprawling complex. The concrete bones of the massive hospital rose six stories above their heads. They dismounted their scooters and stood in front of it. The gaping holes in the frame were black and ominous, the interior completely dark.
“What are we doing here?” asked Sara, Erik in her arms and her head tilted up to take in the vast expanse of the deserted hospital. The moonlight hit her face and she looked ethereal in the red and silver light.
“I thought we could stay here until the morning,” said Lukas. “Even if the fire reaches us, we can hide inside the building. We will be safe here because it is made of concrete. The fire will not reach us. I don’t want to navigate the forest roads at night in the dark. It is not safe.”
“What the hell?” exclaimed Joe. “We need to get out of here, now.”
Lukas bristled and Harper remembered how easily he torched the man outside the shopping complex. The last thing they needed was a confrontation.
“You saw the roads,” she said, stepping closer to Joe. She put her hand on his arm, caught his eye and looked sideways at Lukas—she hoped the message was clear. Joe paused and seemed to be calculating his next move. He glanced back toward the burning city behind them, then sighed, rubbing his jaw.
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