The World's Last Breaths: Final Winter, Animal Kingdom, and The Peeling

by Iain Rob Wright

  “Get away from me,” the paramedic shouted, clutching at herself like she was hiding something. At the back of the room, her partner told her to sit down. There were tears on his cheeks.

  Dr Zantoko saw Devey and pointed at him. “Stay back. Do not come into this room.”

  Devey groaned. “She’s sick, isn’t she? Does she have it?”

  The frightened paramedic reacted to his voice, and her eyes homed in on him. “You! You need to help me!”

  “Me?” Devey pointed to himself. “What can I do?”

  She thrust out her wrist and revealed the blistered flesh oozing beneath her palm. “You said you knew that woman. What did she have? What the hell did she infect me with?”

  “I… I don’t know. I’m just the postman. She was fine when I saw her last week. How… How did you…?”

  “I fucking touched her!” The woman put her hand against her forehead in despair, speaking in sobs. “I checked her neck pulse. That’s all! Two fingers against her throat.” She stared desperately at him. “Did she travel anywhere lately? Did she… did she have anything wrong with her? Did she say anything before she died?”

  Devey shook his head, not knowing what to say to the woman. Seeing her panic made him panic. If she had it, he might too. Dr Zantoko took over, trying to calm things down. “Claudia, we will figure this out, but we need to get you some place secure. Something this infectious—something this fast—must be isolated. We shall find out what’s wrong with you, but you know what needs to happen. You’re a danger, Claudia.”

  Her shoulders dropped and some defiance left her. “Julien, I don’t want to die.”

  “You won’t!”

  Tears streamed down the woman’s face, and Devey covered his mouth with revulsion when he saw one of her eyes weep blood. She glanced his way again, but this time he averted his eyes and looked down at the floor. There was nothing he could do or say to help her. He was just a terrified and confused postman.

  So he turned and walked away.

  Dr Zantoko shouted after him. “Mr Singh, you cannot leave!”

  Devey walked faster.

  “Don’t let him leave!”

  The two orderlies hurried after him.

  He ran.

  “Stop right now!”

  But that was the last thing Devey was going to do. Zantoko had said he was healthy, so he was getting as far away from this virus as he could. He’d hide under a goddamn bridge if he had to. They could arrest him later if they liked, but only once this thing was under control. The orderlies yelled at Devey as he picked up speed, which caused other members of staff to try and block him, forcing him to dodge and change directions so many times he ended up disorientated and lost. He risked a glance back over his shoulder, pleased to see he’d already put twenty metres between himself and his pursuers. They were a pair of paunched, middle-aged men chasing a twenty-four-year-old who visited the gym twice a week. He could do this.

  Just find the exit and I’m out of here.

  He entered a new corridor, and at the far end he saw two more orderlies coming his way. They were speaking into a radio. The other two were still behind him. “Shit!” He searched for a way out, racing over to a window and pulling at its lower lip. The thing was stuck solid. No escape there. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” There was only one door between him and the two orderlies ahead, so that was what he went for next. He prayed for it to be unlocked, because if not, the jig was up. They’d throw him right back in that room next to the paramedic. Next to the infection.

  Claudia. She has a name.

  She has what Mary had.

  The orderlies in front saw Devey and shouted at him to stop. He rattled the door handle desperately and shoved his shoulder against the wood. It swung open, and he fell through. Shaking with adrenaline, he smiled at a little girl with curly blonde locks who was getting a chocolate bar from a nearby snack machine. Obviously, she knew something was up because she grabbed her Snickers bar and hurried off to mummy who sat on a long plastic bench along with a dozen other people.

  A waiting room.

  He’d entered the hospital’s main waiting area, an expansive space with numerous seating, a newsagent, and a coffee shop. The main entrance and exit lay ahead. Salvation.

  “Can I help you?” asked a woman from a long desk a few feet to his left. She had tight skin and short hair, more like a librarian than a receptionist.

  “No, thank you.” He smiled politely and tried to walk away. But he couldn’t contain himself, and soon he was running again, colliding with the thick handlebars of an old man’s wheelchair. The old man’s daughter swore at Devey and even took a swipe at him, but there was no time to apologise. He ignored the pain in his hip and raced through the waiting room, startling both patients and staff in his path. Devey hated drama, and the memory of this would make him cringe later, but the sunlight flooding through the large glass doors ahead was too glorious to resist. It rained outside, just like Mr Opperman had predicted, but that only made the sunlight more miraculous. The rain and sun combined would cleanse him, rinsing his every pore free of corruption.

  The orderlies crashed through the door next to the reception desk and shouted after him, but no way could they stop him now. The exit lay right ahead. He felt shame for running, but not enough to slow him down. “Mr Singh, stop!”

  “Leave me alone,” he shouted back. “I’m going!”

  He made it out the waiting room and funnelled into the wide hallway leading to the exit. The glass doors opened automatically, but it couldn’t have been him that had activated them. Not yet. He wasn’t close enough. Flashing lights and sirens flooded the courtyard outside, distorting the rain in multi-coloured shafts. Several ambulances backed up against the entrance, tyres screeching. Paramedics raced about in a panic, yanking trolley-beds onto the pavement and rushing them into the hospital. A flood of bodies filled the entrance, all of them shouting.

  “No! No! No!” Devey skidded on his heels, wondering how he would ever dodge past the moving obstacles choking off the entrance.

  “Sir, out of the way, please!”

  Devey wailed. “No! No, I need to get out.”

  A trolley-bed rolled right towards him, no sign of stopping. “Sir, move now!”

  Devey dodged aside before he was crushed, and that’s when he saw the casualty’s blistered face—lips rotting away and nostrils peeling back. He stumbled in shock, and it cost him. Two orderlies raced up behind him and got him by both arms, dragging him away from the exit. He didn’t fight them. He was frozen.

  Frozen stiff.

  “They all had it!” Devey screamed at anyone who would listen. “I saw them coming in. They were blistered and peeling. They had what Mary had. Let me out of here!”

  Sonja grabbed his shoulders and forced him to look at her. “This is a hospital. It’s full of sick people every day. You are perfectly fine in this room, Devey, but you have to stay calm.”

  He tried to blink but couldn’t, staring at the nurse like a wide-eyed lunatic. “I was in the kitchen with Mary. What if I have it? What if I’m going to die?”

  Someone strode into the room. “Because if you had it, you would be showing signs by now like Claudia.”

  The male paramedic strode into the centre of the room like he wanted to punch someone. Devey shook his head at the man. “What?”

  “Two years.” The paramedic grunted, clenching his fists and shifting from foot to foot. “Two years I worked with Claudia. It might not sound like a long time, but it is. It’s long enough to know everything about a person. Long enough to know how great a person is. She’s the one who needs help here, not you! So be quiet and stop taking up these people’s time.”

  Devey realised then that the room was full of staff—three orderlies, Sonja, and Dr Zantoko. The hospital buzzed with activity, but all these people were having to try to calm him down. He was an asshole. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right, I’ll be fine.”

  Sonja let go of him. “Are you calm? Will
you stay in this room and not move?”

  He nodded.

  “Thank you, nurse,” said Dr Zantoko, putting a hand on her back. “Could you please report to triage?”

  Sonja tottered off with her hands on her swollen belly. Two orderlies accompanied her, but the paramedic had slipped out as soon as he’d said his piece. That left Devey, Dr Zantoko, and the remaining orderly. “Mr Singh,” Dr Zantoko tugged at the lapels of his doctor’s coat as if to regain his authority, “I cannot leave this room until I’m sure you understand what is happening here. There is an outbreak occurring, and you were exposed to it. Now, my earlier assessment of you being fine still stands, but we cannot—I repeat, we cannot—take any risks with this sort of thing. You must remain here until the situation is under control. Do you understand?”

  Devey nodded. He was ready to shit in his shorts, but he understood. Despite having wanted to escape this room more than anything, it suddenly felt like a cocoon. In the hallways outside, the infection festered, but in this room he would be alone and safe. “Doctor? Have you ever seen anything like this? There were half a dozen patients rolling out of ambulances when I tried to leave—maybe more.”

  “Eight!” Zantoko folded his arms and let out a nervous sigh. “Eight cases all at once. All from a nearby old people’s home.”

  That struck a chord with Devey. “Did any of them play Bingo?”

  Dr Zantoko frowned. “I’m sorry?”

  “Mary played a lot of Bingo. I know because she won £5,000 once and gave me a twenty pound Christmas tip because of it. She was…” his eyes brimmed unexpectedly with tears, “a nice lady.”

  “I don’t know if they were Bingo players, but thank you the information, it could prove helpful. Finding out where the outbreak began will be vital to containing it. I’ll pass on your theory to Public Health.”

  Devey lifted his chin and felt proud of himself. If they stopped some terrible outbreak because of him, he might get called a hero. He’d be in the paper. Then he considered how much grief he would get at work and the thought became less attractive. The lads would make all kinds of fun.

  Dr Zantoko left him with the orderly who was a towering, heavy-set man. He stared at the floor in a trance, and Devey asked him if he was okay. He looked up as if surprised. “What’s that, mate?”

  “Are you okay? Looks like you checked out for a minute there.”

  “I’m a bit freaked out, to tell you the truth. I’ve worked here long enough to know when the doctors are worried.”

  “Shit, man,” said Devey. “Don’t say that! Aren’t you all supposed to keep calm and carry on, or something?”

  The large man tutted. “I’m a soddin’ orderly, mate. My job is to move equipment around the hospital and wheel patients here and there. If there’s something nasty in this hospital, I want no part of it. I might knock off and go down the pub, job be damned.”

  Not the noblest attitude Devey had ever heard, but he couldn’t help but understand the man’s fears. Doctors and nurses probably considered their jobs a calling, but this guy was just picking up a pay packet. He didn’t sign on for this. “You think things are bad, huh?”

  He huffed. “Didn’t think I’d need to convince you of all people. Weren’t you were the one who found patient zero?”

  “Mary? She was an old lady on my round. I never touched her though. Dr Zantoko said I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, I heard him talking with Sonja. They don’t think you have anything to worry about, but they’ve been getting orders from above. The big wigs have got their knickers in a twist.”

  It was good to hear from yet another person he would likely be fine. It made him instinctively like the orderly. “What’s your name?”

  “Ken.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Ken. I’m Devey. Feel free to hide out with me if you want, but keep me updated if not.”

  “I’ll be ordered off somewhere else any minute, mark my words. No harm staying out of the way until then though.”

  Devey walked over to the bed and perched himself on the edge. He considered switching the TV back on, but decided it would be rude with company.

  “Turn the telly on,” said Ken.

  “Oh! Yeah, okay.” Devey picked up the remote and pointed it at the TV. The news came on again.

  The reporter, a Chinese woman with a slight lisp contorting her privately educated accent, looked incapable of emotion. Only her mouth moved. “Mr Trump was quoted as saying, ‘When I win a second term, I will shut Amazon down completely, and send a warning shot to all the other companies that think they are bigger than America. Thank you and covfefe.’”

  Ken tutted. “Nothing on the news. Suppose that’s a good sign.”

  Devey shook his head. “No, look at the bottom.”

  Across the lower edge of the screen, the red ticker displayed text in capitals: BENGALI FLU CASES HIGHER THAN FIRST FEARED. PUBLIC ADVISED TO AVOID UNNECESSARY TRIPS AND STAY INDOORS.

  Ken shrugged. “So?”

  “Don’t you get it? There’s no such thing as Bengali Flu. The Government knows what’s happening and is trying to keep it under control without panicking people.”

  “You’re paranoid, mate. The news would be all over it. They don’t work for the government.”

  “Maybe there’s a law that let’s the Prime Minister restrict the media in a health crisis or something, I don’t know. This feels like too much of a coincidence. You work in a hospital, ever heard of Bengali Flu?”

  “I’ve heard of a lot of things I can’t remember, mate. You’re just panicking. The doctors here are good. You’ll be okay.”

  Devey huffed. “You’ve changed your tune. I thought you were hiding out in here because you were worried.”

  “If you go into another panic, I’ll get the blame. Seriously, though, you’re the safest guy in the hospital right now. That’s why I’m in here with you.” There was a crackle and Ken looked down at his belt. “Ah, bollocks. Told you!” He spoke into his radio and hurried out of the room. The voice squawking at him sounded angry—or stressed. Devey chuckled and surprised himself. The fact he was a prisoner at a hospital in the middle of an outbreak was absurd. So absurd it was funny. At the very least, it would give him something to tell the grandkids one day.

  Just so long as I don’t end up like Mary.

  He had no intention of leaving the room again, but neither did he want to sit alone watching news reports he didn’t trust. The best solution, he decided, was to peek out the door and try to stay informed. He’d keep out the way, but would see what was happening.

  What was happening didn’t look good.

  Doctors and nurses zipped back and forth, spilling out of rooms and racing in all directions. Every receptionist had a phone glued to their ear, and anyone not in uniform stood around confused and upset. One man in particular was making his temper known. A large man with short brown hair and tattoos on both forearms, he shouted angrily. “What the hell is going on? I came here to see my mum, so where the fuck is she?”

  “Your mother is being brought down to us now,” said the receptionist in a trembling voice. “She’s on her way.”

  “I’ve been here twenty minutes and you keep saying that. I want to see her right now or I’m going to fuckin’ kick off.”

  “Just calm down, mate,” said Ken, exiting a side room and approaching quickly. The angry man snarled like a whipped dog. “I ain’t your mate. This place is a disgrace. My old lady is sick and you people won’t let me see her. Take me to her this second before I lose my bloody rag.”

  “Sir, I’m not sure exactly where she is right this second,” the receptionist chimed in, “but if you take a seat and—”

  Devey yelped from the doorway when the man suddenly lashed out. He shoved Ken to the ground and kicked him. Ken was a big bloke, but the attack had come without warning. Now the angry man stood over him. “Fuckin’ NHS. Will someone do their bloody job around here for once?” He noticed Devey staring at him from the doorway. “The fuck yo
u looking at, Paki?”

  Devey felt his stomach go awash, a horrible flood of emptiness. The brute marched towards him, looking in no way like he wanted to chat. Was he going to hit him? Devey couldn’t quite believe it. As if his day could get any worse.

  “Get back in your hole, you nosey shit, before I knock your block off.”

  Devey froze, unable to take his eyes off the human tank rolling towards him. Why weren’t his feet moving? Ken floundered on the floor, his large belly making him resemble a tipped turtle. The receptionist shrieked behind her desk. It was just Devey and the brute.

  “Sir, sit down right this second before I call the police.” Sonja tottered down the corridor with the hard expression of a woman far uglier and older than she was. Her face was bright red and sweating, but she showed no fear, only extreme irritation and weariness. Whether from the situation or her pregnancy was unclear.

  “Piss off out my way!” The man lashed out again, this time swiping Sonja aside like a fly. She bounced against the reception desk with a yelp and toppled sideways to the ground.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Devey howled. “She’s pregnant, you idiot.”

  The man’s face fell in horror and he half-turned to look at Sonja who clutched her swollen tummy and moaned. “Jesus Christ, shite, shite, shite. Look sweetheart, you shouldn’t have got in my way. I just want to see my mum. Why won’t anybody let me see her?”

  Devey raced over to help Sonja. She winced in pain, but looked more worried than hurt. To his utter surprise, she got up and tottered back over to her attacker without the slightest expression of ill will. She still wore a face mask, but she pulled it down now to speak. “If you refuse to calm down,” she said, looking him in the eye, “I shall call the police and press charges. What is your mother’s name?”

  “Elizabeth Summers.”

  “Okay, take a seat over there and I’ll see what I can find out for you. Last I heard, she was on her way down here, but I’m sure you can see things are a little hectic.”

  The man apologised for his behaviour and scampered off like a beaten bear.