* * *
The next day was an arid expanse of tears and silence. In the afternoon, Jack jumped in the van on her own and disappeared for several hours.
Anna eventually emerged from Trent’s room. “I’m officially terrified. What if Mom doesn’t come back?”
“She’ll be back,” Theo said, never moving from the window. “She’s just going back to see what’s left. Scouting to find what she can salvage. She’ll find only ashes, but she’ll have to look for herself.”
Anna turned away, oblivious to her father’s assurances.
Jaimie opened his dictionary and looked up the words moribund and feral. Feral slashed at his fingertips. Moribund tasted like the smell in the air when the dog pack struck. The pool of blood spreading out from Oliver’s throat had come in such great spurts, Jaimie thought of the word exuberant. The x in exuberant was sharp, too, but his hands searched out the word’s soft serifs and that calmed him. It helped him ignore the smell of copper and acid under his tongue.
Acid and copper had risen from the old man’s blood in a cloud. Their mark was indelible on the boy. He wondered how the Romans would say, Remembering everything is a curse.
* * *
When Jack Spencer returned, she held a large, red cookie tin with a faded yellow flower on its cover. The can was sealed with duct tape.
Anna was furious. “Where have you been?”
“Give me a moment to examine the irony, Anna. You forgot to say ‘young lady.’”
“You left,” Anna said.
“I’m back. With a plan.”
“What’s the plan?” Theo said.
“We’ve gotta get out of here.”
“Good plan,” Theo agreed, still scanning the street.
“Perhaps, before we discuss details,” Mrs. Bendham said, “you folks would like to share my peaches? We should preserve our rations in the van, don’t you agree?”
Jack nodded and, in the dim light of the late afternoon, they sat at the Howler’s dining room table and planned for tomorrow. The peaches were sweet and good and not enough to fill them.
* * *
That night, Jack tucked her daughter into bed. “You haven’t done this since I was nine or something,” Anna said.
“You were thirteen.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were. It was your birthday. You thanked me and your dad very nicely for your presents. When I tucked you in, you said you were too old for getting tucked in anymore.”
“Did you cry?”
“At first I was a little relieved it was deleted from the bedtime routine.”
“Mom!”
“I got around to missing it later.”
“I miss everything that was boring.”
Jack clicked off her flashlight. “Trent kept a neat room. I can make my way to the door and around the house without tripping over anything. It’s not like your room at all, is it?”
“You just complimented Trent.”
“It’s killing me,” Jack said.
“This really must be the end of the world.”
“Shut up,” Jack said. “I was just pointing out how different you two are, actually. Is that wrong?”
“It would have been better if you’d left it at complimenting my boyfriend.”
“Can I say hell froze over?”
“Sure,” Anna said.
Jack got up to make for the door, but Anna held her at the wrist. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Have you noticed that Mrs. Bendham said my peaches tonight, like she was doing us a great, big favor?”
“Yeah. I noticed. I think she’s doing what Oliver did, trying to suck us into owing her, underlining the debt.”
“And did you notice that nobody pointed out to her that she gave away our hiding place?”
“Oliver’s place is burned down. Her house is rubble, too. It’s all gone. Everything is gone.” Jack began to cry again. In the darkness, they couldn’t see each other’s faces. “You’re right. Mrs. Bendham does seem to have a dangerous sense of entitlement. She could have at least had the brains to apologize or…something.”
Anna sighed. “It’s irrational to expect someone who does galactically stupid shit to have the brains to apologize for said stupid shit,” Anna said.
“You sound so much like your father before we had children and he cleaned up his language.”
“All I’m saying is, what can you expect from someone who doesn’t expect you to use her first name?” said Anna.
“She did tell me her first name when we moved in and then I forgot about it and then we pretty much ignored all our neighbors. It’s Marjorie, but to us, I think we’ll always call her Mrs. Bendham.”
“Or That Bitch.”
“We have to depend on her.”
“That didn’t work out so well with Oliver,” Anna said.
Jack’s anger flared. “No, it didn’t. And I don’t know if Mrs. Bendham is any better, but I know I can’t do this without help. Oliver was right about one thing no matter what else he did or didn’t do. We need a tribe. Lovers get separated. Loners die. I know this is hard to swallow, but I’m thinking we need allies and I’ll take what I can get.”
“Even a stupid one?”
“Just think of her as your crazy grandmother. Everybody has one,” Jack said.
“I’ll try to think of Mrs. Bendham that way but at some point we owe her a few hard slaps across the face.”
“Yes. For now, we need numbers. But…yes…I want to kill her, too.”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t run off again like you did this afternoon. I’ll be okay. I can handle this. I can help. But for Jaimie, be here and do not freak out. Don’t lose it. You say Jaimie is in his own world, but sometimes, the way Jaimie looks at me sideways when he doesn’t think I notice? He’s more sensitive to this world than we give him credit for. I think so. I’m not sure.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Jack said. “With all we’ve lost, what would you have me do, Anna? Am I supposed to act like everything’s normal?”
“Just keep calm. We’ll grieve about everything later. When people die, even surgeons freak out after it’s all over. They don’t panic during the operation. We’re in the middle of the operation now.”
A moment of silence passed as Jack weighed her daughter’s words. “You’re right. I’m sorry I left. There were things I had to do. I won’t leave you guys alone again.”
Jack found her way in the dark, rushing faster than she should have, down the stairs. She didn’t stop until she was outside in the cold, still air. Clouds blocked all light, as if even the stars had turned their back on Earth. She worked her lungs and expanded her chest to take in as much air as she could. The air felt so clean. It was like drinking ice water.
She stayed outside until her tears were too cold to bear.
* * *
Jaimie watched from the window, holding his father’s hand. Briefly, he leaned into Theo’s side. Theo squeezed his son’s hand tight. “War makes monsters and ghosts, son. Don’t become either of those things in the journey to come, please.”
Jaimie turned to Theo. In a clear voice he spoke to his father, “Coelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt.” Those who cross the sea, change the sky, not their spirits.
It was a promise.
He’d fail to keep it.
Save your strength for the fight
Dr. Neil McInerney’s wife Sheila was a youngish fifty with blonde hair and very nice teeth. She waved the refugees aboard the stolen sailboat.“Thank you for calling us, Dr. Smith.”
“Sinjin-Smythe,” he said.
“Yes. Sorry. This psychosis…I guess the toll of the flu has become too much for some, hasn’t it?”
“That what your husband told you, is it?” Sinjin-Smythe climbed aboard and was about to shake Sheila’s hand when he spotted the bandage at her wrist. A spot of blood s
eeped through, stirring his fears of contagion. “How did that happen?”
“It’s nothing,” McInerney said from the quarter deck. “I’ll stitch her up myself later. We got disinfectant on it right away.”
Dayo stepped aboard, uncertain of her balance. “But what happened?” Dayo reached down and pulled up the little girls, Aastha and Aasa, one by one. Aadi, shivering in his light, Harrods security guard jacket, stepped aboard, eyes sharp for trouble chasing them.
“Where are we headed, Craig?” McInerney asked. “As your captain, it would be good to know.”
“Is the Atlantic Ocean that way?” Sinjin-Smythe pointed west.
“Of course.”
“Then, that way. As soon as we’re off the river, I think we should head north, but hug the coastline. Somewhere, I hope we can get more supplies, maybe find help or a refugee station or…I really don’t know yet. First priority is not to get blown out of the water by a sodding submarine.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Go where the navy isn’t looking.”
“Brilliant,” the dentist said, but his tone was sour.
“Tell me how you got hurt,” Aadi asked Mrs. McInerney.
“A neighbor lady from down the way lunged at me as I got in the car.”
Aadi looked at her bandage with his flashlight. “Was it the car door that caught your wrist or — ?”
“Oh, no, she bit me. Like some kind of animal, growling and all.”
“It’s nothing!” her husband repeated from the helm, which seemed to underline for everyone that the wound was not nothing. “Cast off,” McInerney said in a stage whisper, “before more of them come! We’ll raise the sails when we’re in open water. For now, let’s burn some petrol and get the hell out of here.”
Dayo rushed to the side and untied one rope. Neil McInerney gunned the engine. Sheila McInerney stepped aft and untied the mooring line deftly.
Aadi stepped behind Sheila McInerney and pushed her into the cold water of the Thames as the boat surged forward.
“Daddy! Daddy! What did you do?” Aasa screamed. “The lady! That lady is in the water!”
Sheila screamed and choked on black water.
McInerney shut off the engine, turned and shouted for his wife.
Two zombies ran out of the darkness and leaped from the dock on Sheila McInerney’s back.
Aadi covered his daughters eyes.
Sinjin-Smythe turned the spotlight on the water where the infected took her down. He saw churning and splashing, but he could only guess that the dentist’s wife died screaming, either bleeding profusely, drowned or both.
With an anguished cry, McInerney abandoned the wheel and rushed aft. The dentist might have jumped in after his wife or attacked Aadi, but Dayo bashed McInerney across his shoulder blades with her length of lumber. The dentist fell heavily. Dayo stood in his way with the length of lumber.
“I’m sorry, Neil,” Sinjin-Smythe said. “She’s gone.”
McInerney’s gaze was fixed on the little man holding his hands over his crying daughters’ eyes.
“How could you?”
“I’m Indian,” Aadi said. “I’m good at math and I’ve seen every zombie movie ever made. Now get back to getting us away from here before those things come out of the water and drag us all down.”
“Z-zombies?”
“I’m not saying they’re the undead come back to life. I’m saying they’re the closest thing to the real deal you can imagine, except they’re faster than most zombies. And you already know what you’re seeing is not simply mass psychosis.”
The two monsters who had taken his wife had disappeared. However, three more of the infected appeared at the water’s edge, panting and fierce.
“If not for your girls standing there —”
“You heard the boss, Doctor,” Dayo said. “Let’s get going. It’s done and, if we’re lucky, we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it later.”
The dentist struggled to his feet and to the wheelhouse, cursing. Only when the zombies hit the water did he have the good sense to gun engines and pull away.
* * *
Lijon sauntered onto the bridge of the container ship, Gaian Commander, followed by two guards who escorted Edwin George Stanhope. An open cut bled into Stanhope’s left eye. A tight ball gag with black leather straps cut into his face. Thick rope pinned his arms behind his back, hands and elbows knotted together.
Shiva turned and gave the prisoner an appraising look. She had changed into another seductive red dress meant for sultry nights out on the town, not for a woman five months pregnant at sea.
“Edwin! So good to finally put a terrified face to the name! Oh, please don’t glower. It won’t help your cause…though you might as well glower, I suppose, since nothing will help your cause.”
She turned to Lijon. “You’re sure this is the man who was brattish with you, Sister?”
“Yes, Dear Sister. This is the one.”
“Very well. You look uncomfortable, Edwin, so I’ll be brief.” She circled Stanhope as she spoke. “First came Sutr X. You and your rich friends hid out and endured the first wave of the virus in comparative luxury. No foul there. We took precautions that played out well, too. Then Sutr Z arrived and it was time to escape to the haven your vast company had the foresight to invest in. However, for planet rapists such as yourself? There’s been a change of plan. Please remove his gag, brothers. If he speaks, crush his left testicle. If he speaks again, we’ll try a nail gun on the other one and see if that teaches Mr. Stanhope some manners.”
Shiva stepped close to Lijon, cupped her oval face in gentle hands and gave her one deep kiss on the mouth. Lijon blushed. Her gaze fell to the floor. Shiva patted her cheek and smiled. “No worries of contamination there. Lijon has had her needles. No Sutr X or Z for our sisters and brothers.”
Shiva stepped close to the prisoner. She began with a sweet kiss on his lips. Instinctively, he kissed her back. Then Shiva clamped down on his lower lip, bit down hard and ripped away his lower lip, shaking her head side to side savagely.
Edwin George Stanhope struggled and keened but the guards wrapped their legs around his, pinning him. When she was done, Shiva spit his lower lip on the bridge deck. “Lijon, darling, would you mind fetching me some vodka and orange juice, please? He tastes terrible. Too much aftershave, Edwin! And what have you been eating?”
Lijon nodded and hurried away, looking relieved to go.
“Funny thing. The sister you wished dead had her needles and she’ll survive the entire voyage in fine style. You are needless. Amazing the difference a single s makes, isn’t it? Soon, you will be without needs, which you’ll find quite a relief after a lifetime of conspicuous consumption.”
Stanhope let out a garbled cry and one of the guards delivered a vicious punch to the prisoner’s groin, doubling him over.
“I think you got them both, Rory.”
The guard gave a helpless shrug.
“Never mind. Small targets. What do you suppose he said?”
“I think he asked what we wanted with him?” the other guard suggested.
“It’s good you caught that, brother. If I had to ask him for clarification, I suppose, on principle, I’d have to send you off to fetch me a nail gun, wouldn’t I?”
Stanhope slumped in misery. It took both guards to hold him up.
“Very well. You’re bleeding on my ship, so I won’t keep you longer. I hereby find you guilty of treason to your race and, more importantly, Earth. You wanted a cabin instead of a container in the hold. You and your family shall have your cabin. It’s quite fine. Your wife and two children will be locked in with you. Since you haven’t had your shots, you’ll soon turn into a rampaging animal with a desperate thirst for blood and meat. This will be an interesting experiment.”
Stanhope looked at her, his eyes glassy.
Shiva wasn’t sure he understood her, so she spoke slower and louder. “My hypothesis is you will be driven to bite your family
as Sutr Z shuts down your neocortex and you are driven by the imperatives of your primitive, lizard brain. No need to be embarrassed on that score, Edwin. We all have a lizard brain. As the animal takes over, you will eat your family. Or maybe they’ll fight you off. You can hope for that, though with a couple of little kids in the room, I’d be surprised if you don’t bite at least one of them first. You’re so used to being a winner, Edwin.”
She leaned close to Stanhope’s face. He flinched and turned his head away. “My guess is, by the time we get half way to New York, you’ll have infected your wife and children. I suspect that, if you had a choice, you’d go after fresh meat. However, in the close confines of your cabin and with no other food source? Only one will be left for the end of the voyage. Maybe you’ll succeed in putting your wife and children out of their misery quickly. Then you can feast at your leisure.”
Stanhope cried harder.
“Don’t worry. If you survive your family’s ordeal in that nice cabin, you’ll see me one more time when I throw you into the hold with all your fine, rich friends. When we get to New York, I shall unleash the surviving animals. It’s time Wall Street got a taste of their own medicine, don’t you agree, Edwin George Stanhope?”
He looked up at Shiva, confused. He’d already forgotten his own name.
Use your rage. Defy the night.
Sinjin-Smythe stared at London as the boat rumbled toward the mouth of the Thames. He could see lights on here and there through the city. In other places, the streets were dark for blocks. Screams echoed over London’s stone and concrete. Rage, carried on the howling wind, reached out to him across choppy waves. Only cries of utter anguish could compete with rage.
Aadi came forward and bent over Sinjin-Smythe in the bow.
This Plague of Days OMNIBUS EDITION: The Complete Three Seasons of the Zombie Apocalypse Series Page 33
