SAFE HAVEN: RISE OF THE RAMS

by Christopher Artinian

  She reclipped the walkie-talkie to her belt and stood there, studying Mike in silence. The seconds dragged into a minute and she walked across to the chair Mike had been sitting in the previous night. She flopped into it and let out a deep breath.

  “Well? Don’t leave me hanging, Doc,” Mike pleaded. “Do you believe me?”

  She leaned forward and brushed her hands over her tired eyes. “We got a directive through this morning. I haven’t even had chance to share it with you yet, Samantha.” She looked at the young nurse and continued. “There have been mutterings about it for a couple of weeks now, but as of zero six hundred hours it became official. Scratch victims are to be dealt with the same as bite victims. No tolerance, no leeway. If a member of an infected household has injuries that are consistent with scratch marks, they’re meant to be treated as if they were infected.” Lucy looked down to the ground, defeated. “I do believe you, Mike, but that doesn’t matter according to the new rules.”

  The colour drained from Mike’s face. “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that if I follow the new directives, I have to get the guards in here now.”

  “I swear on my life, on my sisters’ lives, on my brother’s life, I was not scratched by Alex. Please, my family need me. Please don’t do this.” Mike looked at Samantha, who once again opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. The tension in the room was palpable.

  “Don’t worry, Mike. I’m not going to report this. I think the new orders are madness. The measures that were brought in to deal with scratch victims were the best chance we had of developing a vaccine for this thing, but now it’s like they’ve just given up.” She sat back in the chair, drained.

  “Lucy, are you okay?” Samantha asked, moving towards her.

  “No. No, I’m not. Downstairs I was a few seconds away from having someone executed for scratching themselves on a piece of furniture. I honestly don’t know what the hell we’re doing any more.”

  Samantha crouched down beside Lucy and spoke gently. “You’re doing everything you can. A lot of doctors back at the base wouldn’t have paused for a second. You did. You’ve done the right thing, and you haven’t just saved one life today, you’ve saved four.”

  Lucy smiled sadly and stood up. “Well, we’d better get back to the base.”

  “Doc, I owe you one. Stuff that, I owe you a damn sight more than one.”

  “Keep your family safe, Mike, and we’ll call it even,” she said and left the room.

  Mike and Samantha let out deep breaths simultaneously.

  “It was good to see you again, Mike. It would have been nicer if it was in a bar or a restaurant a few months ago, but you can’t have everything,” she smiled.

  Mike put his arms around her and gave her a hug. Samantha was surprised at first but then reciprocated. “Take care of yourself out there, Samantha, and thank you. Thanks for everything.”

  He released his grip and was about to pull away when she grabbed him and moved her mouth to the side of his head. Her breath was warm and it tingled in his ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck prick up with involuntary excitement.

  “Your stepfather was already dead, Mike. What you killed wasn’t human. Listen, I’ve left something for you down the side of the sofa. It was written by one of the troops back at the base. Make sure you read it and don’t trust anything you hear on the news.”

  She released him and without turning back, left the room.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mike collapsed on the sofa, realising that now it was back to the reality of the situation. No outside help. He put his hand down the side of the cushion and felt the edge of a small document. He made a mental note to go back to it later when he had some privacy. For now, Sammy and Jake were absorbed with their colouring, while he and Emma just stared at each other, lost in a maze of thoughts.

  Emma took a sharp breath. “Gran!” The one word saying all that needed to be said.

  Sammy looked up from her colouring for a moment and then put her head back down, pressing the pink pencil on the paper harder than before.

  “I’ll give her a call in a few minutes,” replied Mike wearily. “I just want to rest for a little while.” He sat further back in the sofa and spoke quietly to his older sister. “It’s ration day tomorrow. This might be the last time I need to go pick them up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was speaking to Samantha and she said that they’re having to bring in more stringent measures to stop the spread. They’re going to start delivering door to door in the quarantine zones.” Then, whispering, “It sounds like things are getting out of hand.”

  “They’ll get back on top of it. They’ve got armed soldiers on every street corner, for God’s sake. In six months it’ll all be different. Things will start getting back to normal.”

  “Do you honestly think that things are ever going to get back to normal again?” He looked at the children, who had gone into the dining room and were sitting at the table doing their colouring. “Em, Britain is pretty much all that’s left, and from the looks of it, things are getting much worse.”

  “I don’t believe that. We would have seen more sign of it on the news. There are only two quarantine zones. That’s the way it’s been for weeks now. The infection isn’t spreading. I’m sure what they’re doing is just for added security. And, to be honest, with everything that’s happened today, I think we can do without this paranoid bullshit, don’t you?” Her eyes narrowed and she turned her head as if to say conversation over.

  Mike sat there, his mouth open, not believing what he had heard. He wanted to come back with a venomous response, but instead let out a sigh and just looked at his shoes instead. He sat studying his laces for a few minutes, caught himself drifting off to sleep and then realised his tasks for the day were still not completed.

  “I’d better go phone Gran,” he said, looking at Emma. “Do you want to speak to her after me?”

  “No. I’d only get upset.”

  “Bloody hell, we wouldn’t want that would we?” he said in a whisper as he walked out of the room.

  His relationship with his sister had never been the same since she had left home. There were times when they were still like best friends, able to read each other’s thoughts, but then there were times when they despised each other with a passion.

  *

  “Gran, it’s Mike.”

  “Mikey, sweetheart. I was going to call you today. How’s Alex?” The warm voice on the other end of the phone was just what he needed to hear.

  Sue Fletcher was Mike and Emma’s paternal grandmother. She would have disowned her son if he had lived long enough after what he had done to the family. But she doted on her two grandchildren and she had been like a mother to her daughter-in-law before she passed away. At sixty-eight she was still very much a free spirit. She had lived alone in the far north-west of Scotland for the last fifteen years; she grew her own veg and kept hens and a goat. She even had her own kiln, making pottery which she sold locally. She was a heroine to Mike, and he wished beyond all wishes that she was with him now.

  “Alex has gone, Gran.”

  “Oh, Mikey. Oh, Mikey, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. How are Emma and the munchkins?” Despite having no blood link with Sammy and Jake, Sue treated them with the same adoration as she did Mike and Emma.

  “Holding up. I think Sammy and Jake are in a state of shock. I think we all are. Em is... Em. She thinks she’s going to wake up in a couple of weeks’ time to find out that ASDA’s reopened and Miss Selfridge has got a sale on.”

  “It’s just her way of coping, sweetheart.”

  “It’s not as if it was unexpected, but there was a tiny little part of me that thought... hoped... he might be one of the few who woke up. But I suppose deep down I knew.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with having a bit of
hope, darling... Mikey, how’s everything else down there? I mean, outside. How are things?” she asked tentatively.

  Mike picked up on the unusual tone of the question. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what are things like? I’m pretty certain we’re not getting the whole story on the news,” she said, clearly still trying to hide something.

  “A nurse who came here today was the sister of a girl I used to date. She said that soon the rations are going to be delivered door to door rather than having local pick-up points, to reduce the risk of the public getting attacked, which suggests to me that things aren’t going too well. She hinted as much in a couple of other things she said. Why? What have you heard?”

  “I haven’t heard anything. I just wanted to know how things are going down there.”

  “Gran, I love you to bits, but you’re a terrible liar.” He paused for a second, ready to go in for the kill. “What have you heard?”

  Defeated, she realised she had to come clean. “Well, I haven’t heard anything through the TV or the radio other than what they’ve been saying for weeks now. They would have us believe that the quarantine zones are working, the curfew is reducing the number of new cases and outbreaks are quickly controlled.” This was nothing new to Mike as he had been watching the same news. “But when I went into the village the other day, there was talk of several people being infected in Inverness and literally hundreds of cases in Glasgow, Edinburgh and outlying areas. I’ve trawled through all the radio stations I can find, which, granted, isn’t that many, but I haven’t heard a word about it. Now, I know what small villages are like for gossip, but my gut’s telling me there’s something to this.” It pained her to come clean because if it was true, it made the situation for her family even more dire than it already was.

  To Mike, this was just another piece of the jigsaw fitting into place. “I think your gut and my gut are feeling the same thing, Gran.” Neither of them said anything for a few long seconds.

  Sue lived in a house off the beaten track, seven miles out of the small village of Lonbaig on the north-west coast of Scotland. Her cottage was just a hundred feet from the shore, up an incline with amazing views out to sea. If she walked down one path, it took her to a tiny sandy beach surrounded by the blackest rocks on either side. Down the other path, she could make her way down to an expanse of rock pools where no end of sea life could be found. All that could be seen of the house from the road above was the gable end of an outbuilding. The place was almost invisible; coupled with the tiny population in the area, it made her home very safe. Her grandchildren, however, were in one of the biggest cities in the UK.

  “Mikey,” she began, at first not knowing how to continue. “Mike. If things get worse, I mean, if things collapse completely, I want you to try and get here. And if you can’t make it here then at least get out of the city. You’ve got good instincts, Mikey, trust them. Keep the family safe.”

  Mike had been thinking of little else since Alex had been scratched. Gran’s place would be perfect to ride out the storm and start again, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised the journey was virtually impossible. Roadblocks were in place; barriers had been erected all over. There were armed patrols skirting quarantine zones as well as drones and helicopters. They had a zero-tolerance policy for anyone trying to escape, assuming you could even make it to the edge of the quarantine zone. The problems began as soon as you stepped out of your own front door. The curfew meant you were not allowed to move about unless it was to collect rations. On ration day, you had to put on a fluorescent vest, which was colour coded according to your time slot. You had a window of four hours to go to the local collection centre, pick up your bags and return home. It was impossible to use a vehicle as all fuel supplies had been reserved for the military and emergency services.

  All these problems were the tip of the iceberg, though. If there were any “infected” on the streets, they would attack. Mike could probably fend off one or two of them, but what if there was a pack? He and Emma could outrun them, but his younger brother and sister couldn’t.

  On the other hand, if things deteriorated further, staying put would mean certain death. If the rations stopped, if the streets filled with infected like had happened all over the world... If that happened, they were done for.

  “I’ve been thinking about the same thing every day, Gran. If things get worse I don’t think we’ll have any choice.”

  “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, but I know whatever happens, you’ll make the right decision, sweetheart,” she said, trying to brighten the mood. “Thank you for calling, Mikey. Send my love to Emma and the munchkins and look after them. I know they’re safe with you.”

  “Love you, Gran. Bye.” He hung up the phone while the last words echoed in his head: I know they’re safe with you.

  Mike collapsed like a matchstick tower back onto the living room sofa. Sammy and Jake were still colouring and Emma was watching the looped news broadcasts. Within minutes he was asleep.

  *

  When he woke up it was to the sound of gunfire. The room was pitch black. He smelt apples, apple shampoo to be precise, and realised that his little sister was cuddling him tightly. She was still asleep and someone had put a blanket around the pair of them. His mind was a haze as he tried to remember where he was and why. He heard another crack of gunfire and a green emergency flare lit the sky up in the distance. It gave enough light for Mike to see the outline of his older sister at the window. He got up, carefully and gently lowering Sammy onto a cushion in the hope that she would remain asleep. He went over to join Emma.

  “There are more every night.” Emma’s voice was shaky; she had been crying. Mike didn’t know if it was for Alex or for them. He put his arm around her and said nothing.

  There was a creak of sofa springs and both of them glanced back. In the fading light of the flare, they could see Sammy shifting positions but she remained in a deep sleep.

  “She’s very bright, our little sister,” began Emma, “she wasn’t just colouring in today, she was processing everything. Everything that young nurse had told her, everything I’d told her, everything she’d seen on the TV and heard on the radio. After she’d finished her colouring book, she came and sat down beside me. She said, ‘Daddy was going to try and hurt us, wasn’t he? And that’s why Mike did what he did.’ I told her that was almost right, but it wasn’t Dad who was trying to hurt us, it was a virus, something in him, but not him.” Emma paused for a moment. “By the time I’d finished, I didn’t understand what I was saying myself, but that’s when she decided to curl up next to you and go to sleep. Like I said, she’s bright.”

  “Thanks, sis. I didn’t think she was ever going to want to speak to me again after this morning.” Mike leaned across and kissed Emma on the top of the head.

  The pair stood there staring into the darkness and wondering how long this would carry on.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When dawn broke, Mike, Sammy and Jake were sprawled, unconscious, on the large, comfortable three-seater sofa. Mike had always hated the flowery design, but after several nights without any sleep, it felt like being on a cloud.

  Emma, however, had only managed small snatches of sleep here and there. For the first time, the true reality of this waking nightmare had hit her like a laser-guided missile. Were denial and stupidity the same? She had had dreams of writing for one of the broadsheets when she was younger. Hard-hitting, ground-breaking news stories, giving the people the truth. But before she could start climbing the Fleet Street ladder, she had got a staff job at the biggest-selling celebrity magazine in the country. The money and perks were great, and her social life was something she could only have dreamed of before as the awkward, nerdy teen she had once been. However, the job had softened her brain, and now she was paying the price. It was time to get back in the game. It wasn’t fair that Mike had to deal with all the crap. S
he shouldn’t have left him. He was her brother, and he had stood by her and protected her, even though he was the younger one. He had taken beatings from their lout of a father in order to defend Emma. Then she had selfishly left him to pursue a career.

  What had changed? Her job and exciting life were just a memory now. They weren’t real, though. They had never been real. They were something she did, not something she was. They were gone, but her brother was still here. He was still doing what he had always done, and it was time for her to start doing her share, starting this very morning. It was ration day, and rather than Mike risking himself on the streets to bring back the supplies, she would go. This would just be the start.

  Suddenly, she realised she was starving. The last time she had eaten had been the previous morning, and most of that had ended up in a plastic bag. She threw back her blanket and rose from the armchair.

  Emma rifled through the kitchen cupboards but it didn’t take as long as it once had. There were a few packets of dried food, some tins, a couple of jars of coffee and a box of biscuits for cheese left over from Christmas. That’s what she wanted. So what if they were five months old? If they filled her belly, that’s all that mattered. She tore open the cellophane and stuffed two crackers into her mouth. They were good. No, they were great. She stuffed another whole cracker in and slowly crushed and crunched the biscuits in delight. Emma had never been beautiful, but she possessed a prettiness that matched her intelligence and wit. She had been very popular once she had left her awkward teen years behind. The last few weeks, though, had ebbed away at the vibrancy of her looks. But now, the realisation that she was going to take control of her life again made her smile. It was a funny, lopsided smile, due to the three dry crackers that were still tumbling from side to side in her mouth, but the light behind her eyes had been turned back on; a spark had reignited the flame that had once burned in her. She was no longer in London, working all day then partying until the early hours; that life had been and gone. She was back on home turf now. She was Yorkshire born and bred. She had struggled to achieve her success, but that was nothing compared to the struggle that lay ahead.