Lying to my boyfriend – no, my damn fiancé – the words left a bad taste in my mouth. Our relationship might not have been all candy hearts and flowers, but there was a foundation of trust there, the mutual respect that comes with our kind of love. I felt like that little lie was undermining two years of that ever-growing bond, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth.
I hoped it’d be the first and last time.
‘Can you just…not go in?’ he asked, hesitation in his voice. He knew me well enough to regret saying something like that, but after what I just said, I was in no position to judge. Even so, I felt myself getting tetchy. The day was already shaping up shitty and I wasn’t feeling myself.
‘They need me,’ I said, harsher than intended. ‘This is what I wanted to do when I turned down that job with my parents. Be there for people. Make a difference. I can’t bail out on my oaths just because things are getting tough.’
‘I know, I’m sorry I said anything, I didn’t mean that. I’m just…’ he started say, going off towards the usual ramble that constitutes his apology.
Ugh. I know he’s sincere. When he fucks up, all he wants to do is make it right. But it never feels like he fully understands what he did wrong in the first place. Even so, it was hard to stay mad at him. There wasn’t a malicious bone in that man’s body. A fair few stupid ones, but as Laurel might say – “That’s bloody men for you.”
‘You’re worried you won’t be able to return the ring if it’s a biohazard,’ I sighed, a trace of a smile in my voice. ‘I’ll be sure to give it a good scrubbing before the cold sweats start.’
‘Not funny.’ He shot back, but the tension had been lifted. We weren’t fighting. I was just worried, deflecting like crazy. He probably knew it. ‘Call me, text me, any chance you get.’ He added, his voice low.
I laughed, but it wasn’t funny ha-ha. I’d be so busy I’d barely have time to breathe, let alone sneak off to call him, unless I was sent away for a few hours. I reminded myself he was just being a concerned partner, a protective other half. If I wasn’t careful, he’d come looking for me, but I needed him to stay put.
‘I’ve got to go, but listen to me Tiernan,’ I said, pulling out his first name and lowering my voice to let him know I was serious. ‘Stay safe, okay? Keep an eye on the news any way you can, stay inside, and please, don’t go near the infected. I can’t lose you now. I love you. I’ll see you later.’
‘I love you too…see you later…’ he replied, clearly not wanting the conversation to end.
But I had to hang up. Duty called, and I needed to get moving.
Two
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, Laurel came into the hallway. She was taking a cigarette from her pack, heading for the front door, but stopped when she saw my bag, pointing at it with the unlit cig.
‘Fuck me, you can’t be serious.’
‘It’s my job, Laurel. If I can help, I need to be there.’ I said defensively, shrugging the bag off at the foot of the stairs and looking her in the eye.
The ghost of an idea formed, a half-baked plan as it left my lips, but I said it with conviction. ‘You should come too. You and Dani. I can sign you in as guests, hide you in a family room.’
She laughed, but there was no humour to it, ‘Bollocks to that. Come and have a look at this. You’ll not fancy it after – you’ll bloody resign.’
She stowed her cig behind her ear and led me into the living room, where Dani was texting furiously, the TV running in the background. An anchor was calmly talking to the screen, with a scrolling bar beneath proclaiming that the message would repeat, along with the hotline number.
‘Dani, rewind it please. They’ll not show it again uncensored.’ Laurel sneered at the screen.
‘I bet the VBC complaints line is ringing off the hook already, and not just the usual grumbly housewives.’ Dani added. ‘That should not have been on the news.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I asked, watching the last ten minutes of news unfold in rapid reverse, too quick to make out what was happening. Dani hit play when she found the spot.
It looked like a big protest was well underway outside Mercy Hospital. I could hear the mob calling out for people to be set free. Fat chance. If the infected got out, that’d be a clusterfuck for the ages. If these people knew what they were asking for, they’d be curling up under their beds, not harassing the heavily armed professional soldiers that stood between them and the hungry jaws of their loved ones.
‘It’s Mercy,’ I shrugged, waving at the screen, ‘and look at all those soldiers. Jerry says County is getting reinforced as well – and he didn’t say anything about protestors. I’ll be fine.’
‘Oh this ain’t it. They’re not just mobbing in the street, some of the protestors got inside. Keep watching.’ Laurel said, playing with her lighter, unconsciously rolling the flint.
‘As per Parliamentary orders,’ the reporter in the street was saying, ‘the soldiers used non-lethal force to separate the infected into a quarantined area set up inside Mercy Hospital. But only a few minutes ago, rioters forced their way inside the hospital and began to harass both the CDC and hospital staff.’
Oh fucking great. That’s the last thing they need, John Smith demanding to see his darling wife, currently residing in a quarantine ward and securely strapped to the bed. Go on John, give her a kiss. Can’t see how that’d go badly at all.
‘According to a phone call made from inside the hospital by a member of the CDC’s medical team, the rioters have barricaded sections of the hospital and are demanding that the soldiers leave. The mercenaries have since declared the entire hospital a quarantine zone.’
You can’t keep an entire hospital in quarantine, not forever. Too many ways in and out – service doors, underground access, fucking windows if you’re desperate enough…
The TV went back to the studio, where the news anchor was shuffling some papers. He set one of them aside, and I caught a glimpse of the black rectangles that the powers that be love to use when they don’t want you to know everything. Maybe he’d got a redacted hardcopy of our little ERHR booklet.
‘Thanks Gill.’ he said, ‘We can now tell you that Parliament has authorised the CDC’s soldiers to use fully-lethal force to protect the quarantine zone at Mercy Hospital, and have upgraded the state of emergency in Greenfield, Manford and Danecaster Counties to red. Territorial and CDC forces are expected to be establishing checkpoints on the roads within the hour, so travel outside of Greenfield is expected to be restricted to emergency services only.’
‘Fully-lethal.’ Laurel muttered, ‘Watch – the bullets are going to start flying any minute now…’
‘Spoilers.’ Dani said reflexively. She was not a fan of them.
‘Parliament have also issued an official statement,’ the anchor said over Laurel, ‘declaring that all citizens infected with the East Rojas virus must turn themselves in to the CDC immediately, the phone number for which you can find at the bottom of your screen…’
The man flicked his eyes off camera for a moment and, and nodded, his brow furrowed.
‘We have breaking news now at Mercy Hospital, coming live from Gillian Allman. Gillian, what’s happening out there?’ the presenter asked, trying to get the words out quicker.
The image of the woman outside the hospital returned, but now she definitely looked unsettled. Her eyes were a little wide, and she stared at the camera for a moment, mouth hanging slightly open.
‘Ah,’ she stuttered, casting a look over her shoulder at the hospital. ‘Well Matt, we just witnessed an individual inside the hospital struggling to open one of the upper storey windows. The man inside the hospital was then attacked from behind…and… fell through the window, onto the ground...four storeys below. Shots were then fired by the CDC’s mercenaries, Sydow Sec, and several more of the protestors outside of the hospital have left the area.’
‘Sorry Gill, just to confirm – the CDC fired on the protestors, or the man in th
e window?’ Matt the anchor asked.
‘I – we aren’t sure at this point Matt, though it looks as if more CDC trucks are arriving.’ she said, looking somewhere behind the camera.
Fucking windows. No way could they keep that hospital secure for much longer – though the camera was panning around to focus on an approaching grey school bus – the same grey as Sydow Sec’s uniforms and other trucks.
The bus slowed to a crawl so a soldier could jump down, some fresh-faced kid who looked like he should be playing college football, not carrying a machinegun. He hustled over to Gillian, but the cameraman was still looking at something on the bus, so he addressed her off camera.
‘Ma’am, you can’t be filming here,’ he said, his tone polite, ‘it isn’t safe to be near the quarantine zone right now.’
‘Sir, sir!’ Gillian said, as the camera moved, getting the reporter and the soldier in shot together. ‘What is happening inside the hospital?’
‘I’m not authorised to comment on any questions addressed by civilians ma’am. A statement has been issued by Parliament, and as you know, it has been announced in local news.’
‘But the people surely have a right to know what is going to happen to their families? Does the CDC have the appropriate amount of medicine to deal with a health scare of this size? Do we even have a vaccine or treatment available?’ Gill pestered, following the soldier as he moved to catch up with the bus.
Secrecy is a bitch. That soldier knew there wasn’t a damn thing they could do for the people in that hospital, but he had to try and keep a lid on it. If word got out what those people really were, there’d be panic. If there was panic, they’d never keep the quarantine up. If the quarantine fell…we’ll, we’d all be in trouble then.
It looked like the soldier was about to turn and say something else, but the level of volume from the protestors rocketed into something much more aggressive.
‘Set them free! Set them free!’ they chanted.
Just then, the sound of screaming cut through the chant, and the camera turned once again to the bus – in time for arterial spray to wash the windows with a bottle of house red.
College boy saw it, and turned to look through the glass – it was a fatal injury, whatever had caused it must have been swift and brutal, something right across the jugular. He was pulling the reporter with one hand, back towards the camera. The picture tumbled for a moment and the microphone crackled as he dragged Gillian right into the cameraman, who must have dropped his gear.
‘Sir, sir! You can’t-’ she tried to protest, but she was cut off by the sound of his gunfire.
The camera was being recovered when it happened, but the operator focused on the aftermath a moment later. The soldier was there, holding his little machinegun up to his shoulder. He fired again into the side of the bus, his shots making neat holes in the safety glass without shattering it. When he was satisfied the threat was eliminated, he lowered his weapon.
The doors at the front opened up, and people in street clothes shoved their way out, carrying a few CDC personnel with them, easily noticeable in their hazmat suits. They were shouting for order while everyone else ran for their lives.
I couldn’t blame them. I knew what just happened and why that soldier fired into the bus. But if I didn’t know that, I’d be scared shitless too. I kinda was anyway.
‘That’s murder!’ Gillian shouted, standing a few feet behind the soldier, who’d put himself between her and the bus.
‘Use of lethal force was authorised.’ he said, head tilting down to his shoulder, ‘Patient on bus three just turned, had to neutralise the victim but we’ve lost the bus.’
There was the crackle of his radio, and words that the camera couldn’t quite pick up.
‘It wasn’t my idea to bring them here, blame the CDC official at County, their quarantine’s in overflow. Get me a squad here now! Landry out.’
‘Your quarantine’s in overflow.’ Laurel said with an air of finality. ‘How can you even be taking any patients in at all? You should just stay here.’
‘Yeah Katy, you saw that, come on.’ Dani urged, drawing her knees beneath her. ‘It’s a madhouse out there, stay here, and stay safe.’
‘Do you think you’ll be any safer here if the quarantines break?’ I asked, feeling my voice rising. ‘Gods, if this virus gets out of the hospitals then there won’t be anywhere safe!’
They both looked at me; Laurel with sympathy, like I’d lost my mind, and Dani with fear, not used to me raising my voice. Laurel was usually the loud one.
‘Come with me,’ I asked them both, ‘the police and Sydow Sec are supposed to be fortifying the hospitals – and after that on TV, they can’t afford not to. Secure doors, backup power, and a shitload of armed guards. If it gets any worse out there, you’ll be better off coming with me than staying here.’
Laurel looked like she was thinking about it, eyes on the ground, then flicking to the TV. She scratched the back of her head, and looked about to say something. For a second, I thought she was coming around.
‘I don’t want to leave.’ Dani said quietly, ‘It looks awful out there, and the news…’ she gestured at the screen, where we were being told to stay in our homes and report any sign of infected to the CDC.
‘Okay, Dani. We’ll stay.’ Laurel told her, folding her arms, brow furrowed. She wasn’t happy, but I doubt she’d have been truly happy coming with me either. I knew how it must have looked, bad choices either way.
‘Are you sure?’ I asked them. I knew their mind was made up, but despite my confidence in Sydow Sec, I would still have felt better if my friends were with me. If they got hurt and I wasn’t here to help, I’d never be able to forgive myself. At least if we were together…
‘Yeah…we’re sure.’ Laurel nodded.
I wrapped my arms around her, as she did the same. Dani came from the sofa, and we each opened an arm to let her in.
‘Lot of people care about you.’ Laurel said, her voice thick, choking back a lump in her throat. ‘Don’t chuck it away mate.’
‘We’ll still be here for you if you change your mind.’ Dani said, her voice a little less cracked. She was better at hiding it.
‘Go in. See how bad it is. Get home again.’ Laurel sniffed, putting a hand on my hip, and kissing my forehead. ‘Some things are worth losing your job over, yeah?’
She didn’t quite get it, but it didn’t matter. They were still my friends. My little family.
Three
I ride a motorcycle to work.
I ride it everywhere, actually. It’s my pride and joy, a gift from an uncle who’s about as welcome in my father’s house as rising damp. Where one brother went into big business and came to see money as the solution to all life’s problems, the other went into engineering, didn’t lose all his hair, and couldn’t have been happier.
The first time I saw Uncle Gene rock up to our house on his Triumphant, I knew I had to have one. I fell in love with that machine, but the old girl gave out on him ten years later and he never got her working again. He knew I’d had my eye on that bike since I was eight years old, and I suspect, had always planned on giving it to me when I turned twenty one.
Instead, he bought me my own ride – a slightly newer model Victorious. Cleaner lines than the old bikes, but still with that solid, muscular build, maybe more of a cruiser than a naked bike, with a relaxed ride position. He’d even put leather tassels on the handlebars. It was a big, sexy machine, and I knew how much those things started from because the price had already put me off, even looking at the older, more stripped back models.
Fortunately, the man’s skill in engineering wasn’t limited to aircraft engines. He made it a project. Bought a broken Victorious from a friendly dealer, restored old parts, patched her up himself, and kept a video diary of the whole damn thing.
He put it up on the Wireless too, so everyone could see my stupid grinning face at the surprise unveiling. Until recently, it might have been the happiest day of my life
, and all he expected in return was to ride tail gunner so he could admire the thing whenever I fancied organising a trip into the Dales.
So far we’d only done the one trip, a year ago, maybe longer. Kelly and I hadn’t been a serious item all that long, a casual item a little longer, sure. I say we’d been together two years, but there’d been a time before that, when we were still trying to figure out exactly what we were. Or I was. My last relationship didn’t end well and I was still trying to find myself before I found someone else.
He knew he loved me from the get-go, I think. I was intrigued too. He manged to make me smile, make me laugh, even as I picked broken glass out of his scalp. Handsome too, and that always helps.
When he came along to the Dales, Uncle Gene teased him mercilessly about the red stripe on his jacket, asked if it’d come with the rental bike. Kelly didn’t have a bike of his own yet, just the one he used for work with National Mail. Despite that, the two of them got on like a house on fire, and having Uncle Gene’s blessing, even though I didn’t need it, was nice.
Anyway. Hugging and kissing in the living room might have made for a pretty dramatic exit. But road safety takes precedence unless you like having all the skin flayed from your body from hitting the tarmac at forty miles an hour. Dress for the slide, not the ride.
So Laurel and Dani watched in concerned silence as I tugged my leather trousers on. The leathers were a tad loose but still had stretching panels to keep me flexible in the right places, and in summer would have been too hot to wear with anything underneath – since I never removed the quilted lining. With the weather at the moment though, I’d rather risk a little sweating than a little shivering.
My leather road jacket went on next – Myrddin Ladies’, a stiff but comfortable zip-up, with a little eagle over the breast pocket, in black to match the bottoms. It looked a lot more traditional than my fiancé’s jacket. No racy red stripe, just black leather and the white eagle, with diamond padding on the shoulders and elbows.
The Suburban Dead (Book 2): Emergency Page 2
