by Toni Cox
“They’ve lost South Africa, too, now,” I say, dryly.
The next video is different from the others. It’s not from a man in a lab coat, but a sickly-looking man in a suit.
The president is dead. As far as we know, the only country that now still has a head of state is England. The virus is unstoppable. We have not left this bunker since before we deployed the weapon, and yet we’re all infected. We’re dying, slowly. If anyone is still out there, find a cure. We made a terrible mistake, and now the world is paying for it.
The man coughs. When he moves the handkerchief from his mouth, there’s blood on it.
This will be our last transmission. We’re out of food, out of water, and can no longer sustain ourselves. If you’re watching this, find a cure, contact London. Don’t let humanity die.
The video ends, and with it, our hopes. By the date stamp on the video, we know it was taken over a month ago. Those researchers in the lab were only doing what they had to do to save humanity …, and I killed them all.
Chapter 16
We sleep head to toe together on the couch, with Morgan on the floor. I’m exhausted, physically and mentally. It’s too much, and I don’t want to think about it anymore; at least for now.
In the morning, we dig through what’s left of the research to find the professor’s findings on how the olive leaf and elderberry is keeping my friends alive.
This, too, is on the laptop, and it explains in detail, albeit in complicated terms, the effects of the ingredients on the human body. There is also a study of my blood, and the differences between me and the rest of the blood samples taken.
“Let’s take this with us,” I finally say. “I want to get out of here.”
“We’ll have to get a generator for your place,” Hunter says.
I shake my head. “We’ll go back there for tonight, but tomorrow we go home.”
“Home? Where’s that?”
“You’ll see.” My turn to give him a crooked smile.
We pack up, stash the laptop in Hunter’s backpack and head for the exit. The generator ran out of petrol sometime during the night, so we don’t bother to disconnect anything.
Morgan is as happy as we are to get out of the building, and he runs around the lab’s parking lot, barking at birds. I’ve noticed there are more birds around the city than I’ve ever seen before.
We dodge the ghostly traffic along the M1 highway on our way back; Hunter cracks jokes about rush hour traffic.
I can’t wait to get into the apartment, and out of my clothes. I feel dirty, tainted.
Excusing myself, I leave Hunter to fend for himself for a while and lock myself in the bathroom. It’s summer now, thirty degrees outside, so I don’t mind bathing in cold water.
Knowing we’re leaving anyway, I use forty litres to scrub myself, saving only three 5L bottles for Hunter. I wash my hair, pouring the water over my head with a measuring jug to rinse the shampoo out.
It feels good to be clean, and I lie there in my puddle of water, trying to forget. I’ve never been responsible for anyone’s death, so this …
I sit up. Every time I close my eyes, their accusing faces look at me. I’m not in control of this, and it frightens me. Getting out of the bath, I pull the plug and then put on a pair of shorts and a vest.
“Feeling better?” Hunter says when I emerge from the bathroom.
“Cleaner,” I say.
He frowns. “You okay?”
How did he go from annoying, arrogant, tough guy to Mr Sensitive? I try to reconcile the Hunter I met at the mall two days ago with the Hunter now standing in front of me asking if I’m okay.
Tall, athletic, dark hair and stubble, he looks like he climbed straight out of a hiking magazine, or something. I can’t guess his age, but he must be older than me.
I remember him carrying me. He carried me all the way from the basement to that office on the ground floor. Up the steps. I’m not that heavy, but that must have taken some strength.
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For everything. I could not have done this without you. I would have floundered around, gathering medicine where I can, with no real idea of what I’m actually doing. Thank you for making me go back. Thank you for being there for me when I needed you. And thank you for helping me find the research.”
“Hey,” he says and takes a step forward to wipe a tear from my cheek, “you are stronger than you give yourself credit for.” He kisses my forehead. “But I’ll take your thanks, so you owe me. Lunch is on you, while I go clean up.”
He laughs at the look on my face and then disappears into the bathroom. I shake my head - there’s the Hunter from two days ago - and go to the kitchen to find us something to eat.
The Rover is packed so full of everything I collected; there is no space for Hunter and Morgan. There’s more stuff in the garage, so Hunter finds himself a car.
“Might as well go in two,” he says, grinning from behind the steering wheel of a Jeep.
We load up the rest, and then we’re on our way. A herd of cows grazes on the soccer field of the sports club, and a pack of dogs crosses the road in front of us as we turn a corner.
Some heavy summer rains have washed sand and stones down the road, and I can barely see the tar that leads up the hill to my house. The Rover’s tyres spin on the sand when I turn the corner into Kloof Road.
“This? This is your house?” Hunter asks as he gets out of the Jeep.
Before I have a chance to answer, the front door opens, and Andrew comes out, rifle levelled at Hunter’s chest. Morgan runs up to him, greeting him with excitement.
“Dammit. Morgan, down,” I hear Andrew say. “Who are you,” he asks Hunter.
“He’s with me,” I say, stepping around the Jeep.
“Erika.” Andrew lowers the rifle and comes to hug me. “God, we were so worried about you.”
“I am forgiven, then?”
“Forgiven? Is that why you left? Shit, Erika. We were upset, but we didn’t blame you. Come. Come inside.”
Bronwyn is beside herself when she sees me. Smiling, I listen to her excited babble until she eventually takes a breath, and I get a chance to introduce Hunter.
“He saved my bacon from a bunch of Primals the other day. Pretty good with a sword.”
“Nice to meet you, Hunter,” Bronwyn says. “What else can you do?”
Hunter laughs. “Fix your electricity problem. Since when don’t you have power?”
“The power is out?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Andrew says, “for two days now. We haven’t opened the freezers, so we hope the things in there are still okay. It just went off. We don’t know why.”
“How did you know it’s off?” I ask Hunter.
“Come on, your entire roof is covered in solar panels, so you must have electricity. Besides, you said we could make the laptop work here.” Hunter nods towards the kitchen. “The fridge isn’t making a noise, the light on the microwave is off, and there are at least ten solar lanterns charging on the porch.”
“Who is this guy?” Bronwyn asks, giving me a wink.
“Come,” I say to Hunter, “I’ll show you the basement. All the equipment is down there.”
We all go down, flashlights in hand, Morgan leading the way. When Morgan reaches the bottom, chaos ensues. Rats. Andrew, the city boy shrieks, while Bronwyn grabs a broom and helps Morgan chase the rats around.
“There’s your problem right there,” Hunter says. “They’ve probably chewed through a cable.”
“What do we do now?”
“Let Morgan have some fun.” Hunter laughs. “And Bronwyn. Did she grow up on a farm?”
“She did,” I laugh with him. “She’s a pure plaas meisie.
Andrew has retreated up the steps.
It takes us the rest of the day to clear the basement of rats. The only way they could have gotten in there would be through the front door. We make a new rule always to keep it closed.
It doesn’t take Hunter long to fix our electricity problem, and he is soon our hero of the day. I’m happy the others have accepted him so readily.
“Where can I sleep?” Hunter says after we’ve eaten dinner.
“Would you mind taking the couch for tonight until we can make other arrangements?”
“Hunter can have the cottage,” Andrew says.
“He can?” I ask.
Bronwyn blushes. “Andrew and I share a bedroom now.”
“Saving the world one couple at a time.” I get up and hug Bronwyn. “You do make a cute couple.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, Hunter, the cottage is yours then. Come, I’ll show you where to put your stuff.”
“It’s quite the set up you’ve got here. I’m impressed,” Hunter says to me, throwing his bag on the narrow bed in the cottage.
“The house was already here,” I dismiss his praise. “I just had to stock it.”
“Yeah, but not every city girl would have thought like you. I’ve seen your set-up to catch and store water. Clever. The vegetable garden in the back. Genius. You’re thinking long-term, and you have the know-how to execute it.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” I ask. “It was a choice of keep myself busy or give up. I almost did the latter, but then Morgan helped me through a dark patch, and I fought through it. Now, this is where I’m at.”
“I’m glad you are.”
That crooked smile pulls me in, his dark eyes compelling.
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning,” I choke out. “Night.”
We’re in my father’s study, the lab’s laptop open in front of us, with Hunter sifting through the files. My dad’s laptop is open on the other side of the table, and Bronwyn and Andrew are watching the video clips we copied for them.
I warned them beforehand, but their horrified expressions mirror my own feelings from that night.
“Here are some case studies on the Primals,” Hunter says.
I lean in closer to read the paper Hunter has open on the screen.
“There are notes from countries around the world. Some did …” he pauses, reading, “… experiments on them. None were viable for a cure.” He clears his throat and quickly closes the file before I can see more.
“Can you find anything on what they were doing with the Primals in the lab here?”
Hunter clicks on other files until he eventually pauses on one. “This looks like our Prof wrote it. He talks about degenerative cells and a dying host.” Hunter looks up at me, his face only centimetres from mine. “Looks like we were right. They are changing. They’re dying.”
I pull back slightly, caught off guard, my heart beating faster. “Let’s hope.
“Did you find something else?” Andrew asks.
Glad for the distraction, I step around the table and explain our findings, while Hunter carries on with his investigation.
We know now how the virus started. We can only guess at who created it and assume it was made as a biological weapon to eradicate China. It is pretty clear that the scientists underestimated the strength of their creation, and they were not able to control it. And, there you have it. A couple of weeks later … mankind’s extinction. Simple. Oh, and, no more apes.
It’s good to know that the Primals are merely people with some kind of resistance to the virus who managed to survive, even if it altered their entire being. It’s also great to know they are dying out.
What we really want to know, though, is if there is hope for people like Bronwyn, Andrew and Hunter. Or even what makes me so special. So far, all we’ve come up with is the blood tests done on us, and they don’t tell us much.
It’s frustrating, and by midday, we’re all in a bad mood.
“It looks like the professor didn’t want any unauthorised personnel to see this information,” Hunter finally says.
We look up at the mysterious tone in his voice.
“I have found a file well hidden among miscellaneous bookkeeping files. This one is encrypted.”
“What makes you think it’s the file we’re after?” I ask.
“It’s got your name on it.”
We crowd behind him to look at the file named ERIKA. It’s beyond creepy.
“I never told him my name,” I say.
“I told him, I think when we got woozy from them taking so much blood,” Bronwyn says.
“The file is password protected, but I should be able to crack that pretty easily,” Hunter says. “The encryption might take a little longer. You might want to get comfortable.”
Disappointed, we sit down again. At 4 p.m., Bronwyn and Andrew leave to feed the horses, while I move to the kitchen to make dinner.
Hunter takes a short break to eat, and we sit around the office, the double doors to the patio wide open, letting the warm, summer air breathe into the room.
“It shouldn’t take much longer,” he says between mouthfuls. “It’s not a complicated encryption. He must have done it in a hurry. You say you were there for only one day?”
“Not even,” Andrew says. “Just a few hours.”
“The professor attached the file to an e-mail as well, but by then their connection to whoever was sending the videos was terminated.”
“How were they transmitting?” I ask.
“You’d just need a really big antenna and electricity,” Hunter says. “The satellites are still in orbit, so technically everything still works.”
“You know a lot about this stuff,” Bronwyn says.
“Hopefully enough to figure this out,” Hunter replies and sits back down at the laptop.
After about ten minutes, Andrew says, “Hunter.”
Hunter looks up, waiting for Andrew to say more, but he just gives Hunter with a quizzical look.
“What?”
“Hunter. As in Jackson Hunter? As in Jackson Industries?”
I see Hunter shift uncomfortably in his chair, his fingers frozen over the keyboard.
“What if I was?” Hunter asks.
“Dude, you’re South Africa’s youngest millionaire. Jackson Industries is Africa’s biggest tech giant.”
Hunter snorts. “Not that it matters now.”
I laugh, I can’t help myself. Mr big-shot millionaire, living out of his car. I’m sure he could have stayed in his mansion.
“Let’s get this finished,” Hunter says gruffly and turns back to the screen.
We watch him work, awestruck by the man sitting in front of us. Fifteen minutes later, he looks up, that crooked smile plastered on his face.
“Who wants to read it?” he asks.
“You cracked the code. You read it,” I tell him.
“There’s some stuff here about the professor’s name, rank, and details about his team. I’m going to skip all of that,” Hunter says, then starts reading.
“I have isolated a viable antibody from a healthy host. On its own, however, it is not enough to produce a cure. The blood cells must be extracted directly from the bone marrow of the donor before they reach the bloodstream. With it, I will be able to create a viable cure for the S1 virus. I have the subject in my custody and will begin the procedure within the hour. Research suggests there are others out there with the resilient strain, and labs around the world should be able to produce this cure should I prove successful today.”
Chapter 17
The stars are bright in the black sky over the dark city. They never shone so brightly before. They cover us like a glittering blanket.
“Are you alright?”
Hunter comes up behind me, joining me on the low roof of the veranda.
“Are you?”
After reading the professor’s report, Hunter discovered more files. Aurora, Andrew, Bronwyn and the others, they all had the same results; temporary immunity.
Their blood had chemically altered to resemble my own because of the combination of medicine they took. As long as my friends keep taking the medicine, they should be okay, although the p
rofessor advises increasing the dosage as time goes by.
“There’s enough medicine here to last us a couple of years.” He shrugs. “What more can we ask for?”
“What about others out there, Hunter? What if I took away their chance at a normal life?”
He sits behind me, his legs on either side and wraps his arms around me.
“Their communications were down already. From what you said, they were dying. It would have been too late for them. But,” he pauses, stroking my arm, “would you be willing to undergo whatever is necessary to make this cure, even if it killed you?”
I hesitate. Don’t they do bone marrow transplants all the time? How much bone marrow would they need from me? It doesn’t matter. The option has passed, so I shrug.
“If I could, I would.”
“Alright,” Hunter says. “If that’s what you want, I will make it happen for you. You will need to give me some time, and your help, but I can restore communication.”
Jackson Industries. Africa’s leading tech giant. And probably the most difficult place to break into. With all that security, at least there are no Primals on the property, and we get to work undisturbed.
Once we manage to get through the security gates, we park the cars. Hunter leads us passed office buildings until we reach a guard room. We came prepared to break into this Fort Knox-looking building, but the door is open, and the long-dead guard is still sitting in his chair.
“Sidney,” Hunter shakes his head, “you old fool.”
Moving to the back of the room, Hunter fetches keys, and we return to the cars. From there, we drive around to the warehouses, and after Hunter unlocks for us, we drive in so Hunter can load the equipment he needs.
“Is that all?” Andrew asks, looking at the three boxes Hunter hands him.
“Pretty much. Everything else should still be working once we get the electricity going.”
And we’re off again, settling in for the forty-five-minute drive to Pretoria. Hunter went through all the options open to us, including radio stations and telecommunications, but when I mentioned that we had been to the military base, he made a decision.
