Jess backed away from the edge of the bridge and started walking away, slowly and quietly at first and then rapidly as got further away. She was insane, he had no doubt. He walked for 15 minutes until the sound of her voice was obscured by the strong winds.
“Have you doubts my children? Why then are we all baptized on behalf of the dead? And so it is with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable. What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. What is raised is imperishable.
“And here is the truth, my children. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed! In a moment, in the time it takes you to blink an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed.”
Jess looked back halfway up the road, one last time. The hole in the sky had closed but the crazed preacher could still be seen - a white beacon in a sea of darkness.
About 10 minutes later he heard a loud noise behind him. He turned quickly and saw a cloud of fire and electricity billowing into the sky. The position was roughly where Anne’s pulpit was.
He watched it out of curiosity and hoped Anne was okay. Though she was clearly mad, she didn’t deserve a bad ending.
Jess’s mind strayed for longer than he should have let it. The light reminded him of fire pits while camping with his family many years ago. A lot of people found fire to be hypnotizing but amid the darkness it was especially so.
It was only a minute - maybe a little longer but he shouldn’t have stayed so long. Right about when he started thinking that he should continue his pilgrimage something hit him in the head and he lost consciousness.
Chapter 9
“God – how much did I drink last night?” Jess thought.
He woke with a throbbing headache and a parched mouth. Wherever he was, his surroundings were swirling around him too quickly to make anything out. It was dark – that much he knew. Vague voices could be heard floating to him like inaudible echoes of conversation on the wind. He was sitting against something hard with his arms tied behind his back. He felt with his hands the stump of long, coarse pole in the middle of a dimly lit room. He was unable to move anything but his feet and his head and fingers, but he could still feel. He discovered that another length of rope kept him still across his waist as well. He was sure he must have been indoors. It was very dark. There was no air movement. He couldn’t see much and most of what was visible was very close. A rectangular form that looked like a window was a few yards away and seemed to indicate that night had blanketed the sky. No light came from any direction. There was a smell of livestock that made him certain that he was in a barn.
“Orson?”
There was nothing. The watch was gone. There was no other device that Orson could have transferred into to stay with him.
Things finally began to settle and he started to think that he was alone - that the voices he thought he had heard were the remnants of a dream. It was quiet and everything seemed still. He always imagined that a barn would be full of animals as seen through a cut-section of Noah’s Ark, but nothing visibly resembling that could be seen in the shadows of this place apart from a certain smell that made him think of hay and horse shit.
There seemed to be no way to pull himself free from his binds. He wasn’t sure why he was being held here but he feared was that he was next on a menu for starving monsters that once could have been considered human. How many movies have been made where people in extreme dire straits resorted to middle age barbarism or cannibalism in the name of survival?
It felt like hours had passed. His knee burned. It was excruciating to be held still like this when the only way to relieve the pain was to move his knee to another position. He growled and cursed, trying to force himself from the ropes that held his arms tied behind his back. As his vision acclimatized to the lack of light he noticed that indeed the barn was empty and that the same familiar thin dusting of ash covered everything. There was also now a faint gust of wind that tickled his face coming from somewhere, even though there appeared to be no open door in sight. His eyes frantically searched for something in the dark, be it either some source of light or a familiar shape. Nothing changed. He was sure that half a day must have slipped by. He eventually started nodding off, struggling to fight the inviting wrappings of sleep when he caught sight of movement somewhere on the other side of the barn.
Jess wondered if perhaps he had missed seeing the still form of an animal that was perhaps sleeping on its side. But the forms crawled forward from the shadows tentatively, and with more sly movements than he thought was possible from ordinary livestock.
One moving form became two, then three. They came forward into the dimness at the same languid pace. They were human, for sure, but they appeared to come forward in such a way that he wasn’t sure if they were the monstrous types of humans he had seen recently or more survivors looking to stay that way. It wasn’t until one of them spoke that he permitted himself a long inhalation of breath.
“I’m going to ask you some questions,” came a deep voice.
Jess momentarily relaxed his limbs that were tensed hard against the constraining ropes.
“If you’re smart,” the man continued, “you’ll answer them without much fuss. If you can manage that, you just may get out of here without any trouble. So it’s all up to you, you see.”
There was a period of silence and Jess wasn’t quite sure if he had just been asked a question that he should respond to or whether silence was the better option.
“Where were you going?”
The voice was coarse and gruff like the person had either chewed glass or smoked for most of his life.
“I was just trying to get away from the madness in the city.”
He decided not to tell them anything about his family until he could determine what their intentions were. The fact that he was tied up and was now being interrogated didn’t exactly put him at ease.
“What city? Toronto? What did you see there?”
“People,” he said. “I saw sick people. People who shouldn’t have been walking, but they were. They were monsters more than people, crawling around like hungry, starving dogs. You must have seen them!”
“Where did you get that jacket?”
Jess had to focus to figure out what jacket he was wearing in the dark. He had been working when the accident happened. He was wearing his work jacket with insignias on both arms and on his chest.
“It’s mine,” Jess said.
“You work for that company?”
“I’m a subway driver.”
“I thought they drove themselves now.”
“Well, I used to be a subway driver.”
One of the privileged. Ride the Bucket.”
Jess realized what he was up against now. People rarely were pleased with the idea of others making a living off their tax dollars.
The man thankfully continued on his previous course of questions: “There was no military around?”
“Not that I saw, and I had walked about five kilometres through the heart of that city to get out. Can you people untie me? I’m not going to cause any trouble. Did you drag me away from Toronto? Where are we?”
“Quiet!”
“Can you people untie me…”
A hand came out and slapped him in the face.
The three dark forms seemed to come together and there was whispering among them. Large doors at the far end of the barn were rattling heavily, presumably by the strength of the wind outside. His wrists were beginning to burn from the subtle movements of the rope.
“Are you hurt at all? Do you have any scratches or bites?”
“No, I’m fine.”
One of the people came even closer. It was the speaker. Despite his advancing proximity, all Jess saw was a nose, faintly shining eyes and curls of long hair behind his head.
“Lucky for you we didn’t find anything in our inspection while you were resting.” The deep-voiced shadowed man turned back to the other t
wo forms with him. “Cut him free but tie his hands back up. We’ll grab some food at the main house.”
Jess was freed momentarily, yanked to his feet and then re-bound at the wrists with what felt like soft plastic – perhaps the kind of thing they used to make skipping ropes. There was a man behind him, guiding his forward movement with hands on his shoulder. At least they didn’t seem interested in hurting him.
The barn doors opened and he was pushed out into the cool open air of what appeared to be mid-day. The sky was filled with so many grey clouds that the sun was still completely masked yet there was enough dull light present to deem that it wasn’t quite the middle of the night as he had thought. They went across an opening between the barn and a house. Jess looked over and saw that the windows were all covered with a black tarp that would have kept any and all light sources out. A field off to the right was bordered by the familiar shape of a farmer’s fence. In the field, the carcass of a cow was lying on its side with the warm smell of recent death in the air. It seemed to be covered in large boils all over its hide, and some kind of whitish liquid was seeping out over its flesh.
“Get that thing out of here before the smell gets carried away in the wind,” the speaker said.
The other person present – the one not holding Jess’s restraints – scampered off into the grey, presumably to gather something that would aide him in removing the dead cow.
Jess was pushed through the white door to the house before them, being forced to open it with his face. They entered what seemed like a large kitchen with a long oblique table before them, and sitting around it were several men and women aglow in candlelight.
“Has the survey team called in?”
The others all seemed to sit up in response to the appearance of the speaker, who now pulled a red package of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one while shielding it from the breeze with a cupped hand.
He didn’t chew glass - he was the smoker.
“About 20 minutes ago. We haven’t seen anyone new since this one was picked up yesterday. Is he clean?”
“He doesn’t have a single sign of infection.” Someone else said. “It’s strange because he was right down in the heart of it.”
Jess was beginning to feel like a ghost. He was being talked about as though he weren’t even present.
“What infection? What are you people talking about, it’s a sickness? Have you heard something from the military?”
There was some nervous laughter that crowed around the table like a slow uptake of mass realization.
“What makes you say that?” the smoker said.
“You seem very organized,” Jess said. “You’re practically speaking in code. And the ropes tied around my wrists are tighter than a boa constrictor that hasn’t eaten in weeks.”
“We will cut you loose soon enough. Once you understand what’s going on, we’ll set you free.”
“Do you mind giving me a little primer on what to expect? Are we under attack? Is this some kind of military experiment gone wrong?”
The man hesitated, studying Jess’s face closely. There was no choice but to return his gaze – anything less would imply guilt, of whatever it was they were worried about.
The others waited for the showdown to end.
“All we know is that there seems to have been an explosion, maybe several. We don’t know if it was an attack or an accident. We don’t even know if it was nuclear or biological but those who weren’t killed either became gravely sick or turned into demented hostiles. A few of us here were fortunate enough to be shielded in some way. We were far enough underground that we were protected or we just plain lucked out. But whatever it was knocked a lot of shit out. There’s no radio broadcasts apart from a few other survivors, none of whom have a clue what’s going on either. There’s nothing coming up from the States. No phone service, no internet. No fucking carrier pigeons either.”
He took a cigarette by the tip and bit the end of it between his teeth. His thumb jerked the little metal box in his hand so that it provided a small flame. He sucked on the end of that thin, long stick very slowly and then spoke as he exhaled.
“You were out there for a while - you didn’t find anything? No survivors? No warehouses of potential supplies?”
Jess knew again that he couldn’t hesitate with an answer.
“No, nothing. I don’t know how long I was stuck in the subway for. It could have been days but all I found when I woke up was crazy people trying to attack me. But there must be something. Somebody must have picked up some kind of signal by now. What about shortwave? There are no signals out there?”
“We have working radios and there is no signal worth listening to thus far. Just a bunch of other people in the dark with no clue what’s happening.”
The smoker instructed Jess to sit and when he did, he brought a knife down within his arms and snapped the tie that bound his wrists. Jess looked down and saw deep blue bruises on his wrists from the bindings.
“So what do I need to know if you people don’t know anything?”
“That you have options. Not many perhaps, but you do have a choice to make.”
Jess didn’t say anything and just stared at the smoker, who was now only marginally easier to see in the dim light of the room. When he inhaled, his face took on a burning red hue, as if it were made of molten rocks. He had a wide physique, whether created by muscle or otherwise was difficult to discern, but he had command of the room, most of which were made up of men of various lengths of beard and stern looks. The smoker’s hair was long and curled and he had a chin like an anvil. His teeth were large and flashy, appearing as the biggest things on his face when his mouth was open.
“Okay, what are my options, or maybe a better question is: What do you want from me?”
The smoker laughed. None of the others followed his lead.
“It’s a good question,” he said. “As you can tell we are a group of people trying our best to survive in these hard times. Supplies are limited. For the time being, we have confiscated your possessions. You can get them back by spending a minimum of two weeks working with us. In return, you’ll receive food, shelter and safety from the dangers outside these walls.”
Jess's hand slid in his jacket pocket. His smart card was gone.
“I’m sure it’s dumb of me to ask, but what’s the alternative?”
“We tie you back up; blindfold you and drop you off without anything but a simple knife, at least 20 kilometres away from this location. We’re not murderers but we also aren’t interested in putting ourselves at risk without good reason.”
The faces around the table were without any kind of legible reaction.
“We’re not monsters,” he said. “If its freedom you want, we’ll give it to you. We’d like to think that you’re not held captive here, but merely offered an opportunity to become a part of something bigger. Strength in numbers, you might say. And you’ve been out there, so you know what you’re up against.”
“It isn’t much of a choice,” Jess said. He thought about Toni and his sons and realized that he would be better able to help them if he wasn’t stripped of everything but a kitchen knife. “So I guess I’ll stick around and help out. Are you saying that if I put in my two weeks that I’ll be able to leave and do what I want – the very same way that you found me?”
“The choice is yours,” the smoker said.
“Then I’ll stay,” Jess said, quietly determined to find a way out before the end of his two weeks of probation. His sons might not have two weeks.
There was a brief hurrah among those assembled. It felt manufactured, as if they had been through this dozens of times before. Hell, Jess thought, it was entirely possible that some of those assembled had been in his very shoes before.
Jess couldn’t stop thinking that his watch was missing. While Orson had at one time been the cutting edge of technology, he had quickly been replaced in the marketplace with more advanced models, but Jess didn’t feel the need to upgra
de. Orson’s sense of humour may have been dry and sarcastic and missing any hint of creativity. The smoker had such a watch as the one that Jess used to wear. It was possible it was his watch, Jess thought. Without his smartcard, Orson would often jump into his wristwatch – but now that was missing too.
Thick white bowls were all placed in front of them and a large woman with very pale skin and thick blue veins on her hands dropped a ladle full of plain, tasteless potato soup before each of them.
“So what’s next?” Jess said.
The smoker again turned slowly towards his direction before speaking.
“Now, we eat. Then someone will show you to your room. It won’t be extravagant and it won’t be private but it should provide more comfort than what you’ve had these last few days.”
Chapter 10
Someone played music in another room. A slow but steady drumbeat and deep strings murmured through the walls. A breeze whistled under the crack of the door. Although there was a small fire ablaze for heat and light, there was a distinct chill to the room and Jess rubbed his feet together to keep the tingle of cold from permanently taking root in his toes.
He ran his fingers through his hair. Though it was cold, his brow had a thin layer of sweat upon it. He found something strange on the back of his neck. It was round and sore, like an enlarged zit – something he hadn’t had to deal with since his teenage years. He spent the night sleeping on an uncomfortable hammock in view of two men who were to watch out the top windows for intruders. They took turns, one watching the window, and the other watching Jess.
His sleep was not a good one, but he did manage to close his eyes. He asked no questions and the men didn’t talk. In the morning, he was led downstairs to another large room where people were cooking and others were sitting still, presumably waiting for food. Jess took a seat at the first available spot, beside a boy who looked only slightly older than Michael. Unlike girls, you could always tell a teenage boy’s age easily, because although they have the general size of a grown man, certain features have not grown the same way as the rest of them.
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