Everything Dies [Season One]

by T. W. Malpass

  Vincent rushed over and took her by her arm. ‘Emily, I thought I told you to stay inside where I could see you?’

  ‘I was just talking, Daddy,’ Emily said, frowning.

  The young man stood up and beamed at him. He couldn’t have been any older than eighteen, but he towered over Vincent. He’d clearly been exercising. Moisture had soaked into his grey sweat shirt, creating a large ring around his neck and armpits. His eyes were a piercing emerald blue, his skin fresh and healthy. He was good-looking in the classical sense. The kind of student who would date the head cheerleader at school. ‘You have any luck?’ he asked.

  ‘Huh?’ Vincent replied.

  ‘Emily was just telling me about her tooth.’

  Vincent relaxed from his paternal reflex and smiled. ‘Oh, I got the same answer we get for everything around here.’ He offered his hand to the boy. ‘Vincent Graham.’

  ‘Adam Willard. Pleased to meet you, sir.’ Adam shook it and Vincent was surprised by the strength of his grip.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you around West Block before.’

  ‘I’m staying just around the corner in one of the tents. It’s where they put the singles.’

  ‘Your family?’

  Adam struggled to maintain his smile at the question. ‘My folks – they were visiting my uncle in Montana when things started to escalate. I’ve not heard from them since.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’

  Adam shrugged. ‘It’s OK, Mr. Graham. There’s a good chance they made it to the camp in Helena.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure they did.’ Vincent felt an instant connection to the kid. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for a teenager to be separated from their parents during the crisis. ‘How have you found it around here so far?’

  ‘It’s OK. Could be worse, right? Most people keep themselves to themselves, and I understand that. They are just looking out for their families. I tend to keep myself busy by going for runs.’

  ‘Keeping fit’s not a bad idea.’ Vincent put his hand on Emily’s head and pulled her close.

  Adam looked down at her and the swelling around her cheek. ‘Listen, Mr. Graham. I’m on my way back to my tent. If you’ll take a walk with me, I think I might have something you will appreciate.’

  It wasn’t like he had anything more to say to the stiff in the medical station, and the young man’s offer intrigued him. ‘Sure. Lead the way,’ he said.

  Vincent and Emily followed their new friend to a collection of tents close to the children’s recreation area.

  ‘Hold on one sec.’ Adam ducked inside the flaps of his tent and emerged a moment later, clutching something in his right hand. He moved up close to Vincent and forced the object into his grasp.

  Vincent glanced down at the brown-coloured bottle and read the label. ‘Amoxicillin? Where did you get these?’

  ‘I was studying at Minnesota State, and I had a bad case of bronchitis just before everything went to hell. You know how it is in school – every kid goes home and then arrives at the start of a new term to spread their germs. Anyway, I had a further course prescribed because I couldn’t shift the damn thing. They happened to be in my backpack when I was relocated to the camp. I figured I’d keep it quiet. Never know when they will come in handy. I guess it’s a good job I bumped into Emily today.’

  ‘Adam, this is… I don’t know how to thank you,’ Vincent said.

  ‘It’s nothin’. Just remember to say hi when you see me around.’

  ‘We will. Won’t we, Emily?’

  ‘Sure thing,’ Emily said, with a grin.

  ‘See?’ Adam said. ‘She’s feeling better already.’

  ‘So you were studying at Minnesota State?’ Vincent asked.

  ‘That’s right, sir. Even got selected for the Mavericks.’

  ‘I had… have a brother who taught history there. Frank Graham.’

  ‘I remember him. Never had any classes with him, but he seemed like a good guy. He sure loves basketball.’

  Hearing someone talk about his big brother again cast a warm feeling over Vincent. He missed Frank more than anyone. ‘He sure does.’

  Their conversation was cut short when they noticed most of the refugees around them were heading towards the south end of the facility. Vincent peered over the tops of the tents to the main entrance. A large truck had pulled up outside, and a crowd had already gathered by the transit gates. They were being forced back by a detail of soldiers. ‘What the hell is going on down there?’

  ‘Beats me. Let’s go check it out,’ Adam said.

  6

  Kristin and Raine allowed the ravenous crowd to flow past them. Raine glared sideways at the people who bumped her shoulders on their way to the transit gates.

  The sizeable truck that had approached from the main access road had turned around before being ushered inside the facility, and was now waiting to roll into the refugee zone.

  ‘This is gonna get messy,’ Raine said.

  Kristin acknowledged her with a look, closing her hands into fists to brace herself for an even greater surge of bodies. The gates began to open and eight soldiers marched out in tight formation, forcing the baying rabble of old and young back the way they had come. One male refugee tried to break through the line. He was swiftly knocked to the ground by the butt of a rifle.

  As soon as the armed guards had created enough space, the truck started crawling through in reverse. The refugees reached out their arms to touch the vehicle, even though they were too far away.

  ‘It’s best we hang back. See what kind of mayhem breaks out first,’ Raine said.

  ‘I’m not going to argue with you,’ Kristin replied.

  By the time the truck had fully emerged from the transit station, the crowd was surrounding it on both sides, still being held off by the military. The canvas at the back was pushed aside to reveal more soldiers inside the main compartment. One of them held up his hands to try and quieten the shouting and pleading. ‘Folks, please. If we can all stay calm, we can do this much easier. There’s absolutely no need to push and shove each other. There’s enough for everyone. Whether you’re in the front row or right at the back, you will all get a package.’

  Raine smirked at his announcement. ‘Watch this,’ she said.

  No sooner had the man started handing out packages, when another huge swell of desperate bodies slammed against the sides of the truck. The soldiers on the outside fought hard to hold the line. One fell to the ground and was immediately hauled to his feet by his colleagues. Just as it seemed the rioters would punch their way through, the burliest looking member of the unit lost his patience and fired off a single rifle round into the air. The majority of the crowd scurried back, some falling and getting their legs tangled in the process.

  The spokesman in the truck cursed under his breath and addressed the refugees. ‘Are we finished? Now, let’s try this again in an organised fashion.’

  This time there was at least some semblance of civil behaviour. The soldiers were able to hand the packages down without a major incident.

  ‘Kind of hard to tell the difference, isn’t it?’ Raine said.

  ‘From what?’ Kristin said.

  ‘Between them and those things out there.’ Raine gestured towards the perimeter fence.

  ‘Can’t say I’d know. I’ve not seen one of them, except on TV.’

  ‘Then you’re lucky, or maybe not.’

  Kristin wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by that, but it didn’t sit well with her, and she had a feeling it wasn’t supposed to.

  Amongst the stragglers watching from the back with them, Raine noticed the man in the hoodie who she’d pointed out to Kristin earlier. His hood was still pulled up, but the end of his nose and chin protruded from the shadows. His skin looked pale, his chin darkened by dense stubble. Although his top was baggy, Raine could tell his frame beneath it was painfully thin.

  He wasn’t rocking or chanting anymore, but he was just as jittery as before,
tapping both hands against his thighs and bouncing up and down on the balls of his skate shoes.

  The man in the truck had held true to his word. The calmer the refugees were, the faster they obtained their packages and dispersed. The soldiers even accommodated those who asked for extra rations for loved ones who weren’t present. Just as the private had said, there was more than enough to go around.

  Before long, Kristin and Raine found themselves at the front, inches from the back of the truck. Kristin gazed over to the barracks. A man was standing on the roof of the large container, overseeing the disposition of food supplies. She recognised him as Sergeant Banks. When Banks noticed her, he promptly turned his back and walked away. She was certain he would take great pleasure in telling her that she should have listened to him in the first place instead of causing unrest. That was for another day though. Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting supplies to feed her family – for the next week at least.

  ‘Ma’am,’ one of the soldiers in the truck said, handing her a pack.

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ Kristin said. ‘I’m here with my daughter and husband.’

  ‘Two more for you then.’ The private collected two extra and passed them down.

  ‘I’ll wait for you,’ Kristin said to Raine as she moved away from the depleted congregation.

  Before Raine could get to the front, she saw the young guy in the hoodie reach up for his supplies. As soon as he had gripped the package he froze, staring at the soldier who was in the process of handing it over; it was as if he’d pulled a gun and aimed it at his face. He seemed older than his years because he was so gaunt. His deathly-pale complexion only accentuated the sense of heroin chic. Even out of the shadows, the dark patches around his eyes were thick and ingrained.

  ‘Sir, is there a problem?’ the soldier said.

  He didn’t say a word; his eyes were fixed in terror.

  ‘You feeling OK?’

  All of a sudden, he came to his senses, snatching the pack to his chest. ‘Yes. I’m fine.’

  Only three stuttered words, but enough for Raine to establish that he wasn’t a native – British, possibly.

  He realised that Raine had joined the soldier in scrutinising his behaviour and turned tail, staggering off in the direction of the prayer room. Raine watched him leave, and eventually he cast a nervous glance back at her.

  By the time she’d collected her pack and found Kristin, she’d been joined by Vincent, Emily and their new friend Adam.

  ‘Raine, this is my husband Vincent and my daughter, Emily.’

  Raine dipped her head towards Vincent and looked down to Emily. The little girl clung to her father’s shirt-sleeve.

  ‘Raine has been looking out for me during the scramble for resources,’ Kristen joked.

  ‘Yeah, rather you than me by the sounds of it,’ Vincent said. He smiled at Raine, hoping for some recognition, but the woman’s thoughts were elsewhere.

  ‘Oh, and this is a new friend of Emily’s,’ Kristin said, pointing to Adam. ‘I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for her.’

  ‘It’s no problem, Mrs. Graham. It was a lucky coincidence that I had what she needed,’ Adam said.

  ‘Please – call me Kristin.’

  ‘Don’t bother,’ Vincent said laughing. ‘I’ve tried telling him and he insists on calling me Mr. Graham.’

  ‘Force of habit,’ Adam said. He peered over to the truck and the dwindling numbers of people there. ‘Well, I better get my food, I guess.’

  ‘You go for it,’ Vincent said.

  ‘See ya.’ Adam wasted no time in jogging over to get his rations.

  Kristin, relieved that they were finally getting what they needed, squeezed her husband’s hand. ‘Shall we head back?’

  ‘Sure,’ Vincent said.

  ‘Raine, will you walk back with us?’

  ‘Nah, you go. I’ll catch up with you later.’ Raine’s attention was still focussed on the east side of camp.

  ‘OK. You’re welcome to drop by any time.’

  ‘I might just do that.’ With that, Raine strolled off, clearly distracted.

  In jest, Vincent curled his lips to pull a face. ‘You certainly make some interesting friends, honey.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Kristin said, slapping his broad chest. ‘She’s nice – in a distant sort of way.’

  ‘I think she’s mean,’ Emily piped up confidently.

  ‘Why do you say that, Em? Vincent said.

  ‘She looks at people funny.’

  ‘Can’t argue with you there, but it doesn’t always mean something bad. It could be that she’s just shy or guarded when she meets someone new.’

  ‘What’s “guarded?”’

  ‘When you get older, it can change the way you approach new people,’ Vincent said.

  ‘When I’m guarded, I don’t stare at people like that,’ Emily said.

  ‘But you, my little bundle of joy, don’t have the withering burden of experience. Now let’s get you back so you can take your medicine.’

  Emily screwed up her face, as if she could already taste the pill in her mouth. ‘It really doesn’t hurt at all anymore.’

  ‘I’ll bet it doesn’t,’ he said. Vincent and Kristin shared a smile and escorted their daughter back to the container.

  7

  Vincent watched Emily gobble up the last few crumbs of her cookie and set the beaker of water on her knee. She rolled one half of a tablet between her fingers.

  ‘Don’t be such a drama queen. It’s not that bad,’ Vincent said.

  ‘My throat’s too small,’ Emily whined.

  ‘It’s not too small. Emily – it’s not. Just don’t think about it. Put it on the back of your tongue, throw your head right back and drink.’

  Emily frowned at him as if the tooth, the pill and them being at the camp were all his fault. She then popped the pill in her mouth and took a gulp of water. She shut her eyes tight, her cheeks expanding like a bull-frog. At one point, it seemed that the tablet would come flying out and the water with it. Finally, she gained the courage to swallow; after a couple of seconds of clawing at her throat, the discomfort wasn’t quite as bad as she’d expected.

  Vincent pretended to look shocked. ‘Guess what? You’re not choking.’

  Emily shook her head in disapproval of his mockery. ‘If I do start, you’ll be the first to know about it.’

  They both heard Kristin giggling in the background. She held the back of her hand up to her mouth, a carving knife dangling loosely in her grasp. She stood in the kitchen area, preparing a meal from one of the ration packs.

  Vincent caught a whiff of what she was chopping. ‘Wow. What is that?’

  ‘Smell good?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Kristin smiled and examined their much needed supplies. ‘We’ve got peppers, onions, a clove of garlic, cheese, powdered eggs. Only cured meat, I’m afraid, but once I’ve mixed it in with the other stuff, you’ll never know the difference.’

  Vincent stared across at her, his arms folded. ‘Have I ever told you how much I love you?’

  Kristin made a face as she tried to fight the vapours of freshly chopped onion. ‘All the time, but I could stand to hear it again.’

  ‘Woah, Mommy’s getting a big head,’ he said, looking to Emily, who hadn’t taken her eyes off the TV screen since swallowing her medication.

  ‘Perhaps she needs some of Adam’s pills,’ she said.

  Vincent and Kristin dissolved into laughter and shared a long look. It suddenly dawned on them they’d been caught up in a moment where they’d forgotten about their situation – about what lay outside the fences of the camp, waiting.

  Kristin gazed down at the vibrant colours that littered the chopping board. It was amazing to see real food again. ‘I wish I’d cooked more at home. I used to love it, but when I got home from work most days…’

  ‘Most evenings,’ Vincent said.

  ‘I was always so tapped out. At least I was
useful then. I feel more like a fifth wheel around here.’

  Vincent made his way over to the kitchen and leaned over the breakfast bar. ‘Crazy talk. I need you. Emily needs you.’

  She brushed away the grey flecks of hair that she found so attractive from his forehead and lowered her voice. ‘You two would do fine without me.’

  ‘Stop,’ Vincent said.

  ‘You don’t understand – it gives me comfort to know that.’

  He sighed. ‘Fine. Be comforted, but just know, we’re not letting you go anywhere.’ He stretched across to kiss her, almost losing his balance in the process. ‘I know one person who seems to cope well on her own.’

  ‘Who?’ Kristin said.

  ‘Your new friend.’

  ‘Don’t be cruel. She’s just…’ she searched her mind for the right word.

  ‘Intense?’

  ‘Intense is a good description.’

  ‘I am the writer,’ Vincent said.

  ‘Well, I like her.’

  ‘Invite her over for dinner then.’

  ‘You think I should?’ Kristen said.

  ‘Why not? There’s enough to go around.’

  ‘Oh, not this again,’ Emily said, cursing at the television.

  Vincent waddled comically into the living quarters. ‘What is it, honey?’

  ‘The stupid news.’

  ‘A little tip for you, Emmy. You stop turning the stupid news on, you stop having to watch it.’ He collected the remote from the arm of the sofa and pointed it at the set to turn it off. Before he hit the red button, he noticed something curious about the broadcast – something familiar. A sentence from the news reporter he’d heard before.

  The aerial shot of the woodland road in Bend, Oregon flashed up on the screen, showing soldiers poised behind their vehicles for the oncoming attack. The reporter’s words rang true again. They seemed to play in slow motion in Vincent’s head. ‘Elsewhere, teams of the National Guard have joined the cleanup operation to isolate and eliminate the outbreak within each recognised infected zone.’