As the World Ends PART 4

by North, Geoff

  “I could’ve done it myself,” the old man said from the bottom step of the cellar. “I would’ve eventually got the job done.”

  Hayden took a rest and wiped the sweat from his brow. “I know you would’ve.” He was three feet down, and the ground was hard. May MacDonald wouldn’t be laid to rest six feet under. She would have to settle for four. “But seeing as we’re staying until the storm passes, I figured I could keep busy.”

  Hayden picked the shovel back up and resumed digging. Elton spoke again after a few more minutes. “I’m not going with you.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m too old to start anything again. I’m too old and I’m too tired.”

  “I know.”

  They wrapped her body in a plain white bed sheet and lowered it into the hole. The generator died in the storm and Hayden shoveled the dirt back into the grave in the dark. No words were spoken, no prayers whispered. There was a moment when Hayden thought all of his hard work would be for nothing. Something sounding like a freight train leaving its tracks roared above their heads. Another of those monstrous tornadoes was twisting its way through the property, tearing up what remained. It eventually passed, leaving the house and May MacDonald’s final resting place intact.

  The wind died down and the rain stopped falling. Elton led them up and out of the cellar to survey the damage. Most of what the old man and his wife had accumulated over the decades had been picked over and stolen in the last week. What was left was strewn about the wet floor, smashed and useless.

  Hayden went outside and stood over his dead horse. He prayed she hadn’t suffered. How could she have, he thought? Every square inch of her had been torn to shreds with gunfire. The bastards. He closed his eyes and pictured the one that had exited out from the tank turret. Young, twenty-five, maybe twenty-six. Black hair shaved close to his scalp. No shirt. Dirty blue jeans and big black boots with the laces untied. Sunglasses.

  “Are we walking now?”

  Hayden opened his eyes and saw Nicholas. “Yeah, I suppose we are.” He searched around Trixie’s corpse for his rifle. It was gone. So was the saddlebag with their few remaining supplies. They couldn’t even leave us that.

  “How far are we from the city?”

  It was still grey towards the east, as if the sky was threatening to unleash another storm. Or perhaps it was smoke; a low-hanging cloud of ruin settled over what was left of Winnipeg. “Not far. We can reach the outskirts before nightfall on foot.”

  Elton MacDonald was leaned up against a cracked porch beam. “You’re welcome to stay.”

  Hayden could see that hooded look again in the old man’s eyes—the bottom lip jutting out. They could stay if they wanted, but they wouldn’t be all that welcome. Elton had a job to finish, and he needed to be alone.

  “Thanks, but no. We’ll be leaving now. Can I have that rifle of yours?”

  “Nope.”

  Hayden and Nicholas reached the highway less than five minutes later. They heard a single gunshot behind them. Nicholas spun around and stared at the farmhouse. “Did those bad men in the trucks come back?”

  “Nope.” Hayden tightened his hand around the boy’s and started for the city.

  ***

  Four hours and ten miles later they came upon the town of Eustache. It was the last small town before the city. It had been more of a rest stop for truckers and travelers heading to and from Winnipeg, a last minute stop for gas and junk food. Now it was a ghost town, just another abandoned settlement. The ruin of the city beyond was obvious. Hayden could no longer see the skyline of larger buildings that the city’s center once consisted of. In its place was a smoking crater. Above it was one big heavy cloud. The occasional bolt of lightning cracked down from the dull, mustard-colored mass, striking whatever there was left still standing.

  “That’s the city?” Nicholas asked.

  “It was.”

  “What kind of home are we gonna find there?”

  Hayden couldn’t answer him. They had traveled almost two hundred miles for nothing. He continued on anyway, too heartbroken and too tired to care. He missed his horse terribly.

  “Can we stop at a rest-ront for something to eat? I gotta pee, too.”

  There were plenty of restaurants and diners to choose from in Eustache. Either side of the highway was lined with gas stations and convenience stores. Hayden worried there wouldn’t be much left in any of them worth taking. Most of the plate glass windows had been smashed in. Fuel dispensers were left laying on pavement next to their bowsers like dead snakes. Gas—for the vehicles that still ran—and water would’ve been the first things people took and exhausted on their journeys to wherever it was they were going.

  “Pee on the ground, Nicholas. There’s no one left that cares.” The boy did his business in front of Hayden without turning around. Hayden squeezed his shoulder. “Stay outside where I can see you. I’m going to check in that gas station to see if there’s any food.”

  The boy tucked himself in and shoved his hands patiently into his pants pockets. Hayden crossed the parking lot of a Shell station and stepped over the last bit of jagged glass in one of the window frames. The drink coolers were dark and completely empty. Hayden went behind the cash-register counter and helped himself to the three remaining rolls of breath mints inside the display case. The chocolate bar boxes were bare. The potato chip racks had been knocked over, the chewing gum containers thrown to the floor. He peered through the plastic window set in the swinging door that led to the kitchen. What wasn’t draped in shadows didn’t look promising. A refrigerator had been left open, and the bit of stainless steel preparation counter Hayden could see was covered in something dark. There was another dried puddle of it on the floor with bits of grey matter throughout. The kitchen’s smell reminded him of Elton MacDonald’s cellar.

  He peered back over his shoulder and spotted Nicholas sitting up against a black garbage container fitted between fuel terminals. There was nothing more for them here. Hayden handed the candy rolls to him. “Cherry flavor! My favorite.”

  “Lucky you.”

  They crossed the highway and explored another gas station restaurant, exiting with even less than they had from the Shell. The two fared better at their third stop—a small diner called Rick’s Good Food. There was a case of stale soup crackers in the back storage room, and enough out-dated energy drinks to last them a month. Nicholas winced as he swallowed a small bit of it. “Gross.”

  “Good. I don’t need you drinking that much caffeine.”

  “But the crackers are dry.” He washed a second mouthful down with the saltines.

  “Come on, kid, let’s see what else the fine town of Eustache has to offer. We’ll need to find a place to sleep before it gets dark.”

  There was little else to be found in Eustache. Three miles east they came across a trucker’s weigh station located on the perimeter of the city. The station itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The building set back off from the trucking lane was like any other checkpoint structure Hayden had seen; small, one window, and featureless. What was unusual was the single vehicle parked in front of it—a black four-door Audi. The car was a newer model, no older than two or three years, and besides the missing driver’s side mirror, it looked well kept, and very costly.

  Hayden ran his fingers along the door. He spotted some dark streaks on the rear fender that may have been rust. Too new to be rust. He squatted down and inspected the marks more closely. Blood. The driver had hit something recently, a deer perhaps. Hayden hoped it had been a deer. He looked back down the side where the mirror had been. That might explain what happened there. He went around the back and walked along the passenger side. Mud was caked into the tire spokes and wheel wells. A piece of it fell to the ground. Hasn’t even had time to dry.

  He placed his hand on the hood. It was still warm. Hayden leaned against the front passenger window to see if the keys were still in the ignition. It triggered a blaring alarm, and Hayden jumped back. He
fell into something and turned. A big black woman sneered at him and threw a punch into his nose that drove him back over the Audi’s hood.

  “You can look all you want, pretty boy, but you can’t touch.”

  Nicholas appeared out of nowhere and kicked behind one of the woman’s knees. She fell forward, face-first into Hayden’s crotch. Hayden went to push her off before she could take a bite out of him, but another woman with grey hair wearing a man’s dress shirt got in between them first.

  “Enough! They weren’t doing anything wrong!” The second woman shouted.

  “Pretty boy was looking inside, he was going to steal my fucking car!”

  The grey-haired woman saw Nicholas for the first time. “He’s got a child with him. Can’t you quit swearing for one minute?”

  “Child my ass.” She was massaging the flesh behind her knee. “Little bastard almost broke my leg.”

  Hayden soaked blood up from his nose with the front of his shirt. “His name’s Nicholas... he’s my son.”

  The smaller woman helped him down off the car’s hood. “I’m Angela. The car belongs to my friend, Caitlan. You might want to watch yourself around it.”

  He held his hand out. “Hayden, and thanks for the advice. I’ll take it.”

  Caitlan shrugged. “A girl’s got to watch out for her things. No offence?” Hayden shook his head as if getting punched in the face by women was an everyday occurrence. “Good. Now what’s this little Kung-Fu master’s name?”

  “My name’s Nicholas, and my real Dad is dead.”

  Caitlan looked back at Hayden. It was his turn to shrug. “Long story.”

  Angela eyed Hayden even longer before kneeling in front of Nicholas. “A lot of people have died in the last little while, haven’t they, Nicholas.” Nicholas nodded. “Has this man taken care of you? Has he been good to you?”

  Nicholas nodded again, more emphatically. “He’s Hayden, and I love him.”

  That was good enough for Angela.

  And Caitlan. “Well let’s just not stand out here in the cold. We’ve got hot coffee inside.”

  They crowded into the small weigh station office, and Hayden and Nicholas were introduced to Amanda and Michael Fulger. “We found each other in a shopping mall,” Angela explained. “These two were holed up in the back of a toy store trying to outlast a homicidal security guard.”

  Nicholas had already cozied up against Amanda. Michael and his sister were leering at Hayden suspiciously. He held his bloody palms up in front of them and tried wiping more from his face onto his forearm. “I know. I look like crap, but I’m not all that scary.”

  “Can’t take a punch, either,” Caitlan mumbled. She smiled and presented him with a Styrofoam cup filled with steaming black coffee. “Here you are, sweetie. The hotplate has a battery backup, and there’s plenty of water in the cooler for the boy to drink.”

  “There’s food here as well,” Angela said. “Mostly canned stuff, but it’ll fill you up.”

  Caitlan reached down in front of the children and dug around inside the bottom desk drawer. She pulled a glass bottle out. “Don’t mind me. I’ve had enough of instant coffee and spaghetti in a tin.” She poured a generous amount of vodka into her own cup and tossed it back in one quick swallow. “Now that hits the spot.”

  Hayden looked at the women incredulously. “How? Where did you find this stuff?”

  Angela laughed. “Everyone’s been heading for the obvious choices... looting grocery stores, malls, restaurants and houses. No one’s even thought of checking inside places like this.”

  “Trucking weigh stations,” Hayden said.

  Caitlan poured another shot. “Dentist’s offices, tire shops, roofing supply outlets and police stations. There’s hundreds of other businesses and institutions out there to hit that most people haven’t even thought of exploring yet. Funny thing is—all those folks that used to work in these places had daily needs. They needed water and food, and weigh stations like this have more than enough to keep us going.”

  “For now,” Hayden added. “They’ll empty out soon enough.”

  Caitlan took the vodka bottle and leaned her big arms down onto the counter of the window. She slid it open and smelled the air. “It’s going to rain again soon. Them clouds south of the city look like shit.” She swigged from the bottle. “We should get moving, keep heading east.”

  “You’re not driving,” Angela said.

  “Yeah, yeah... I’ve been drinking. You gonna take the wheel instead?”

  “Not me,” she answered. Angela looked to Hayden. “Will you come with us?”

  “We were headed for the city... I was going to find a home for Nicholas.”

  Angela shook her head grimly. Caitlan replied for all of them. “You won’t find a home there. The city’s still burning, and what’s left is being run by fucking lunatics.”

  “Hayden,” Nicholas called out softly. “I don’t wanna go there no more.”

  “Where?” Hayden looked at all of them in turn. “Where are you going?”

  Caitlan screwed the cap back onto her bottle. She pointed the end of it towards the dull mustard glow off on the eastern horizon. “Away from that. Away from the worst of the fallout and the sick-minded fuckers.”

  “We came from the northwest. One of the bombs fell not that far from my farm. You won’t find anything there, either.”

  “Then we’ll continue headed west, maybe even swing down south into the States.”

  “More people in the States,” Caitlin said. “More people, more lunatics, more guns.”

  Amanda pushed Nicholas away gently. “We have to go somewhere. We barely have room to all stand in here. I want to find some place with a bed.”

  “Amen to that, girl.” Caitlan handed the Audi key to Hayden. “Treat her good, pretty boy. Not one more scratch, or I’ll blacken both those eyes to match your fat nose.”

  ***

  Roy and Louie ate their late supper in silence. It consisted of eight pounds of stewing beef they’d found in a basement freezer that no longer worked. Roy had started a fire in the ditch next to the highway, and Louie had roasted the meat over the flames until it was black.

  “It will make us sick,” Louie muttered between bites. He looked over his shoulder back towards the city. “We’ll probably be puking our guts out all night long.”

  “It still felt cool. It won’t kill us. Better than not eating at all.”

  Louie drank the rest of his warm beer down to wash the burned taste from his mouth. They had discovered two 15-packs of Rainier Mountain Fresh next to the freezer. It didn’t taste all that fresh, but it was doing a good enough job of dulling Louie’s senses. Roy had finished one of the boxes already. Louie cracked the tab open on another and sipped. “If we’re sleeping outdoors, I suggest you find some more wood to burn. We’re going to need a bigger fire.”

  “I was cooped up in a shopping mall for days. I like it outside. If you want wood, go get it yourself.” He caught Louie glancing over his shoulder at the city east of them. “What the hell do you keep looking back that way for? You miss that shit-hole I found you climbing out of?”

  “Miss it? No.”

  “Maybe you want to go back to that fucking hotel?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Then what’s got you spooked?”

  Louie took a long swallow and belched. “I’m worried about the people I left behind. I don’t think it went well for them in the end.”

  “I thought you said they were all dead.”

  “They are.” Louie hadn’t told him about the microscopic ticks he’d unleashed on level 10 of the DSC. He hadn’t shared the story with Roy of how he’d watched his old boss come back to life with a billion of the tiny arachnids controlling his every move. “I’m just concerned with some of the stuff they were working on when everything ended. It was some pretty freaky shit.”

  “No sense worrying about it now. That freaky shit is behind us now.” Roy hadn’t told Louie he’d murdere
d a hundred and twelve people in cold blood. Some secrets were better kept to yourself. “Let’s have some more beers and forget about everything for the next ten hours or so. Eustache is only a couple miles away. Maybe we’ll find something to eat for breakfast there.”

  Louie passed him another beer and the two drank in silence. Roy watched the flames. Louie kept an eye on the darkened city behind them.

  ***

  The thing once called Tom Braden lurched along the destroyed sidewalk. The man that once held an important research position at the Winnipeg DSC was no longer human. He had died days earlier when the Tick LDV3 swarm had entered his body and clogged every artery and vein inside him. The ticks—feeding and growing on his cooling blood—had brought Tom back. He could no longer think. His brain was controlled by the swarm. They controlled his movements, they dictated where he went, and what he needed to do.

  And the ticks needed Tom to find others to feed on. They needed new hosts to multiply their numbers. Tom stumbled along on swollen feet the color of mold. His fat toes burst open further with each step, releasing fat ticks onto the ground. The ticks scrambled away into the shadows, giving birth to thousands and millions more. These babies joined the growing swarm in search of fresh blood.

  Behind Tom, thirty-seven previous employees of the DSC followed. Their arms and legs, their fingers and toes, all swollen and ready to burst.

  They marched awkwardly through the smoldering destruction of what was, spreading what would be.

  Roy

  “Where was it you used to work?” Roy asked as Louie vomited for the third time into the remains of their fire. “I know we were both pretty tanked last night, but I remember you saying something about them working on freaky shit. What was it exactly?”

  Louie Finkbiner wiped his chin and rolled over onto the dead grass. “I knew we shouldn’t have eaten that spoiled meat. Christ... I’ve never been so sick in my life.”