Desi was reloading his Walther with shaking hands when Dayo went out the door and sprayed the oven cleaner on the zombies. The Lance Corporal screamed in agony as he was hit with some of the spray in his right eye. The two zombies who had seized him let go of their purchase on the Lance Corporal and stumbled back, screeching.
Dayo grabbed Pendle by the neck and yanked him back into the shop. Two more of the infected (the girls couldn’t have been more than fifteen) lunged at Dayo. They got another shot of oven cleaner in their faces and they, too, retreated screaming.
As Dayo pushed Pendle inside. One more of the infected, fast and fit, pounded up the steps and almost got in the door. The man reached for Desi’s throat, but the big Irish policeman’s reach was longer. The zombie paused to look down and discovered it was Walther’s muzzle digging into the base of his throat. The pistol’s report was muffled. The attacker was thrown backward down the steps.
Aadi slammed the door and locked it. Most of the infected fed on the fallen, including their own kind. A few on the outer edge of the feeding circles looked back at Aadi hungrily through the window.
Sinjin-Smythe grabbed a big bottle of water from a shelf to irrigate Pendle’s eye. He had to sit on Pendle to do it as the Lance Corporal writhed beneath him in pain. Pendle’s screams seemed to excite the zombies. They ripped at the bodies, eating faster.
“We need an escape plan now!” Aadi yelled.
Cameron pushed Pendle’s head to the floor roughly and peeled his eyelid back as the virologist squeezed the water bottle.
“Call the helicopter back!” Aadi said.
Cameron shook his head. “Dysart has the radio in his pack.” He turned to the shop owner. “What’s your name?”
“Astrid.”
“Astrid, how have you been hiding out from Sutr? Got a basement we can retreat to?”
“No basement. Back door. My home is in the next street.”
“How far?”
“A block or so. Too far for those things. I was getting some food when those things appeared in the streets.”
Pendle pulled a syringe from his belt, plunged the tip into the Lance Corporal’s neck and pushed the plunger.
“Just a short dose. We need you mobile, but this will take the edge off.” Pendle stopped screaming and settled almost immediately.
As Aadi watched the feeders, they seemed no less agitated. “They’re burning through the meat so they can eat our pudding!”
“How long have they been here?” Sinjin-Smythe asked the shopkeeper.
“I saw the first ones this morning. I was up early. Now there are more. Many more. They are not smart, but they are vicious. I saw them attack children on their way to school.”
Pendle shoved the doctor off his chest and sent him sprawling. “Gimme a dressing!”
“That’s a chemical burn!” Sinjin-Smythe said. “You need to irrigate it for at least thirty minutes.”
Aadi called from the front window. “We don’t have thirty minutes.”
“Or that much water,” Astrid added, crossing her arms to hug herself.
Pendle climbed to his feet, cursing. “Cameron! You are to get Sinjin-Smythe to safety wherever you find it. Rendezvous with the sub. He’s high priority, VIP, understood?”
Pendle turned to Dayo and regarded her with his one good eye for a beat. Tears flowed down both cheeks. “Everyone else is expendable.”
The Icelandic woman’s hands balled into fists, “Who are you people?”
Aadi pulled Sinjin-Smythe up from the floor. “It’s a long movie. You should have been here for the first reel. It was a slow build but now it’s all action, all the time. C’mon! We’ve got to get out of here. Those things want dessert!”
Dayo handed Pendle an open bottle of pain killers. “Sorry. I don’t read Icelandic. The bottle has the right look, but this might be for your menstrual cramps.”
“That has been a worry.” He swallowed four pills dry and pocketed the rest. “Still burns like hell and that’s me aiming eye. Technically you saved me, though. For a few minutes at least.”
Cameron hesitated. “Lance Corporal?”
“Go on, lad. I don’t believe in suicide. That’d earn me a spot in hell. I’m bringing up the rear. Make a hole and get that git to that sub! S’cuse me. Get that doctor git on the sub!”
Dayo picked the two remaining cans of oven cleaner from the shelf.
Sinjin-Smythe eyed her weapons of choice skeptically. “Really?”
“Those things act like animals. Animals can be stupid, but they recognize something if it hurts them once. We need them to move on to easier prey. Maybe seeing my ghetto girl mace will discourage them.”
They went out the back door of the shop. Sinjin-Smythe carried Aasa. Aadi carried Aastha. Cameron led the way with Astrid’s hand on his shoulder to guide him to her home.
Staccato bursts of gunfire sounded behind them as Lance Corporal Pendle picked off zombies, one shot, one kill. Still, they heard the sound of breaking glass and the starved howls of the infected. Pendle was under attack.
Oven cleaner cans out and ready in each hand, Dayo brought up the rear. She saw more of the infected in the distance, but they ran toward the sound of Pendle’s rifle shots. The little group of refugees made it all the way down the street and to Astrid’s door unharassed.
“Wait!” Dayo pleaded.
Astrid narrowed her eyes and peered back. “Is he coming? We must get inside.”
“Pendle said he was coming!” Dayo said.
Astrid’s shop exploded in fire and splinters.
Desi touched Dayo’s shoulder and squeezed. She covered her mouth with the back of one hand, moaned and wept.
Astrid gasped. Her hands went to her face as she stared at the column of smoke. Not far away, new howls rose to the sky.
Cameron cast a glance back at the plumes of smoke and fire as wood and debris fell in the street behind them. “Dysart had the radio.” He sighed. “I thought Edwards had the explosives.”
“What have you got in your backpack, soldier?” Aadi asked.
The Royal Marine glanced toward Sinjin-Smythe. Little Aasa’s face was buried in the virologist’s shoulder as she sobbed. “Ammunition, extra socks and responsibility. It’s bloody heavy.”
We pace the small hours in dreaded exercise
For their last strategy meeting aboard the Mars, Shiva swept into Lijon’s suite wearing mirrored sunglasses. Since her fever struck, she wore them constantly without explanation. The pair sat at a small table. Above them, New York’s skyline loomed. Lijon drank lemon tea as she reviewed the plan.
Shiva keyed the microphone on her headset. “How much longer before you’ll need us on the bridge, Captain?”
A hesitation and then a click. “Twenty minutes, Dear Sister.”
“Call me when we’re ten minutes out.”
“Very well, Dear Sister.”
Lijon shifted in her seat, peering at herself in Shiva’s sunglasses. The mirrors made her feel small.
“What is it, Little Sister? Excited? I am.”
“The first wave of the plague crushed the piggies. There won’t be many people watching our arrival. No media, for instance.” Lijon cleared her throat. “Unlike 9/11, there will be no endless loops of our attack on TV. The landing’s symbolism, and the Mars, will be lost. Couldn’t we just dock the ship?”
“Cataclysmic events demand a dramatic note, Little Sister. And there are plenty of other ships to choose from. We won’t need this monstrosity after our payload is delivered. Find me a little boat for the escape from New York. How are our little bio-weapons?”
“Hungry and combative. Most of them are drooling idiot animals, though one tried to escape.”
Shiva’s eyebrows arched. “Oh? Do tell.”
“No virus takes hold of everyone, I suppose. It was very strange. He could still talk and remembered his name. He yelled through the door a lot. If it wasn’t chained, I believe he would have found a way out eventually.”
“He said his name was Brian Wright.”
“And the others didn’t attack him?”
“No. From the surveillance cameras, it seemed the piggies were afraid of him. He was clear that they disgusted him. They kept their distance. He was very strong.”
“But he was still human?”
“No. Couldn’t be. He ate one of the herd. Then he started pounding on the doors and bulkheads. He swore he’d sink the ship.”
“What did you do with him?”
“We electrified the door.”
Shiva laughed. “And that worked?”
Lijon nodded and smiled. “He danced.”
Shiva laughed louder.
“It worked until he came back. He found materials in the cabins to insulate his hands. He fashioned rubber gloves out of gaskets.”
“Clever.”
“We opened the door just enough to shoot him. Then the piggies were fed.”
Shiva frowned. “Well, there’s that. A shame, really.”
“Yes. Most of the infected have a hard time figuring out a door handle. He might have been an asset. You would have made him a general to his idiot infantry.”
Shiva watched Lijon for a moment, weighing her words. Lijon had grown more uncomfortable with her leader as they approached New York. It wasn’t just the mirrored sunglasses. When the ship’s doctor disappeared, Shiva said Veselov jumped overboard and drowned.
All the crew noticed the shift in their leader’s energy. Shiva did not move like a pregnant woman. Instead, she paced like a hungry, caged jaguar.
“You’ve recovered well from your fever, Dear Sister?”
“Fully. How are your tumors?”
“Actually, much better.” Gradually, Lijon felt she’d improved since she received her vaccination against the Sutr virus. The pain was not as intense in the morning. She didn’t require a hot shower to get moving upon waking and she limped less. Best of all, she could see the Desmoid tumors in her legs were shrinking.
“The doctor gave me an injection in Iceland. With his disappearance…well, I’m lucky I don’t seem to need the medication as much.”
“Maybe your condition is improving because of the Sutr virus, or because of your vaccination,” Shiva suggested.
“I don’t see how that’s possible, Dear Sister. How could my inoculation against Sutr help with my illness? It’s anti-virus, not chemotherapy.”
Shiva shrugged enigmatically. “Perhaps something else is going on. My morning sickness is gone, too.”
“That’s natural after the first trimester and you’re deep into your second, yes?”
“I’ve noticed other improvements.”
“I agree. You’re glowing, Dear Sister! Pregnancy hormones working their magic, I expect.”
“Funny you mention magic. I’m starting to have a more open mind. All sorts of things are changing in unexpected ways.”
Lijon couldn’t help but frown. “Magic is the word we use for the unexplained. Historically, when we figure out any mystery, the answer is never magic.”
Shiva nodded slowly. “For some experiences…I can’t explain. I grew up reading my father’s old copies of Omni magazine. There is such wonder at the edges of what we know. I used to think that if we entered an age of true advancement, we’d come together with technology, become a part of it.”
“Ah. Kurzweil’s Singularity. Integration with machines, super AI and our brains downloaded into computers and data ports behind our ears.”
Shiva drummed her fingers on the table and her lips twisted into a cruel sneer. “I gave up that fantasy when I saw that the only advancements we were going to make were in weapons tech. Governments were interested in every war except the war on suffering. They talked of suicide space missions to an airless, barren planet while they make Earth more barren each day.”
“Amen, Dear Sister.”
“I gave up those old hopes. Progress was too slow. The people need new leaders, unhinged from the meta-money system and the metal murder machine. So I took up the mantle. I'll lead what's left”
A new leader, unhinged, Lijon thought.
Shiva smiled brightly. Lijon sat back in her seat, wary for the next mood swing.
“Now something new is happening that I hadn’t imagined. When I was at Johns Hopkins, I’d assumed we’d reach down into our cells with nanotechnology to cleanse ourselves of impurity and disease. Now I wonder if our cells might reach up to us, instead? As we approach new understandings, I’m sure science will be indistinguishable from magic.”
Lijon burst out with a giggle. “Dear Sister, you — ” She stopped herself and drank her tea.
When she looked up, Shiva stared back angrily. Her leader pulled the mirrored sunglasses down her nose an inch. Shiva’s irises shone bright white.
Lijon gasped. Her hand shook as she set her teacup down. Her heart pounded. She felt pinned by Shiva’s eerie gaze.
“You were about to say I sound like a frat boy high on drugs,” Shiva said.
Lijon’s eyes widened. “Dear Sister — ”
“It’s fine. It’s true. I’ve been going through some changes since the fever. I can’t explain it in words but…” She reached for Lijon’s cup, took it in her palm and crushed it to shards and powder with one squeeze. Shiva’s hand dripped blood on the tabletop. She did not grimace. In fact, she smiled.
Lijon stared, her jaw slack. “Doesn’t that hurt you?”
“I do sense it. Call it pain, but it feels like it’s happening to someone else.”
“H-how?”
“I believe we’ve earned the attention of a great force. It is on my side.”
“A great force? What do you mean? Do you mean…God?”
“Something like that, maybe. I don’t know but, if true, it makes sense to me in light of things that have happened. I have strange dreams that connect me to a network of others…I’ve only spoken to one person, so far, but I can sense there are others like me.”
“How do you mean?”
“There is the one who speaks to me, but others are nearby, like there are shadows of strangers lurking in my peripheral vision.”
“Someone speaks to you in your dreams? You mean like an angel?”
“Ha! No. That one’s a devil. But the others? It’s like I’m on the edge of tapping into the collective unconscious.”
“A working cell phone network sounds more efficient.” Lijon tried to smile, but her leader’s eyes told her not to joke. Those gleaming white irises were those of a dangerous, nocturnal animal. Lijon cleared her throat again. “You say…a devil — ”
“Sometimes I see someone who opposes us. He’s trying to sap my resolve. He will not succeed. I’ll burn him down and kill anyone who sides with him.”
Lijon believed her.
“With these visions, I’m going to have to reevaluate my degrees from Johns Hopkins and Cambridge. If most of the school administration weren’t already dead or joining the horde, I might ask for my money back.”
Lijon tried a smile, failed, and looked away trembling.
“What is it, Little Sister?”
“Your eyes — ”
“I know. Not that!” Shiva pounded the table. “Tell me what you’re hiding!”
“The dreams. Is it a boy with mirrors instead of eyes?”
The baby kicked hard and Shiva’s savage eyes widened. “What did he say to you?”
“He says he’s a messenger. He said something in Latin.”
Shiva pounded the table again with her bloodied fist and threw the remnants of the teacup against the wall. “Say it! What is his message?”
Lijon shook. “Una salus victis nullam sperare salutem.”
Shiva stood. “Meaning?”
“He explained it to me. When all hope is abandoned and you’re sure you’ve nothing to lose, you’ll do what must be done to conquer. The boy said that when it looks most like he has lost the coming battle, that’s when he will win.”
�
��What battle? What else did he tell you?”
“He doesn’t know. He says he can’t see the future. He says he’s just a messenger and there are many possible futures. He says we’ve taken the wrong path.”
“What else?”
“He says we should stop.”
Shiva’s arm flashed out and she grabbed Lijon around the throat, lifting her from her seat. “And why didn’t you tell me before now?”
Lijon wheezed. “Because it’s a nightmare!” She began to choke. “I-I’m sorry! I thought that’s all it could possibly be! A nightmare! It’s insane!”
Shiva released her. Lijon collapsed on the table.
The headset speaker clicked. “We’re precisely ten minutes from landfall, Dear Sister.”
“Thank you. We’re on our way up.”
Lijon coughed and rubbed her throat. She croaked, “Full speed, Dear Sister?”
“Full speed. The piggies are waiting. Let’s give them drama.”
Lijon trembled as she keyed her headset mic. “General quarters! All crew! General quarters! This is not a drill. Ten minutes to impact! Prepare for collision!”
Shiva nodded and swept out of the cabin.
Lijon bent stiffly to lift her backpack from the floor. She paused to look around the suite one last time. She would miss the comforts the Mars had provided. The bed had been comfortable. She could stay in the hot bath for hours. Her one trip on a luxury cruise liner had been too short.
But the war waited for her, just a little way down the wrong path.
The dream messenger had shown Lijon the Battle of the Brickyard. She’d witnessed the chaos brought by the new breed of white-eyed savages. They’d defeated the last human army in one horrifying night.
“Sutr-X was the killer flu pandemic,” the boy had explained. “Sutr-Z’s victims are like the zombies on your ship. Sutr-A made Alphas. They call themselves vampires, but a monster, by any other name, would smell as rank.”
It was too late for Lijon to do what the dreamer asked of her. It was best that she’d kept the serrated blade concealed in her belt in its sheath.
This Plague of Days (Omnibus): Seasons 1-3 Page 50
