The Seventh Day Box Set

by Tara Brown

  “Mom—”

  “The blood moves on its own, like a parasite is in it, crawling toward you.” Her voice trembles and cracks and she just keeps talking, “Just stay in Canada until we figure this out. I promise, we’ll be okay here. No one can get us in here.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Your brother. I don't want him to know. He’s just a kid.” She sighs. “I have to go. Me and some other staff are taking turns doing watches, making sure the doors are secured and the windows are covered.”

  “What is it, Mom? What is happening?”

  “I don't know. I don't know.” She sounds desperate. “I was at home this morning and the mailman attacked Mr. Hokusai right in front of me. Ate him. And I thought he was dead. But he got up and he attacked his wife—his own wife. He ate her. Bit her until she bled to death. She died right in front of me. I was still screaming when she came back to life. She died in front of me and then snapped back. And she did this weird crawl and head jerking thing and got up and turned. She stared at me and I knew. She was going to eat me too. I ran back into the house, and she tried so hard to get in, I thought she was going to break the door down. I got the dog and your brother in the SUV and we drove here. I smashed through the garage door. And we came here and hid.” She doesn't sound like my mom. My ER-nurse mom who is prepared for every possibility. My mom isn't scared of anything.

  But this woman is terrified.

  And she’s scaring the shit out of me.

  “Stay safe, Mom.” I don't know what else to say.

  “We will. I’ll call again later if I can. How’s Canada?”

  “I don't know. Nothing’s happening here yet. Maybe Canada is safe. Maybe you can get to me and we can hide here.” I don't want to be alone. I don't want her there and me here.

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I’ll keep us safe and you stay put. I’ll message you when this is under control. The military should be here soon, I’m sure,” she lies. She’s the worst liar. “I love you.” That is the truth.

  “Love you too.” I sniffle in the darkness of the field with the erratic crowd around us.

  “Love you more,” she says and the phone cuts out.

  Chapter 2

  I stare at my phone as it goes back to the screen it was at, my contacts.

  What did she say? What did she mean?

  He ate his wife?

  I contemplate phoning Lou to see if Laurel is bad too or if maybe her dad’s home and can go get my mom and Mason and Buster, our beagle. Billings is close to Laurel. Or maybe I should call my dad . . .

  “Tan, did you just call your mom?” Louis distracts me.

  “Yeah.” I lift my head, wiping my eyes. “She’s hiding at the hospital with my brother and our dog. They’re locked in, not letting anyone in. The staff are there, all hiding. Dad’s at home safe.”

  “I just saw the emergency broadcast telling everyone to stay inside. They’re not saying anything, just that there’s been a breakout of some sort. I don't know—” He bites his lip, cutting off in the middle of his thought. “It’s just repeating and repeating like the system was put on emergency and they left.” He pauses again.

  “Louis?” He’s rattling my nerves more.

  “I think it’s here too,” he whispers, his eyes darting around our group, all on their phones or crying or pacing or all the above. “It’s in Canada.”

  “What?” My insides tighten with an unknown type of fear.

  “It’s everywhere, Tan. Nowhere is safe. Plagues back in the day could travel fast, even with horse and cart. Imagine how fast they move now with international travel?”

  “Oh my God. How do you know?”

  “I checked other Canadian cities. Toronto, Calgary, and Vancouver. They all reported attacks, each of them hours old with no new updates. Same as Seattle and LA. They’re saying zombies. There was mention of some bombs. I think they bombed LA.” He says it like he doesn't believe he’s saying it. Or that it’s possible.

  I don't believe it. “Is this—is it some hoax maybe?” I ask, not really thinking the question through. Of course my mom wouldn't have seen actors, and Mr. Hokusai is the gentlest man I’ve ever met. He wouldn't pretend to kill his wife. He’s a kind and sweet man, and she’s a lady, an old-fashioned lady. Watching them garden is relationship goals. He picks flowers and brings them to her, smiling bashfully. And she rubs his sunscreen on his bald spot.

  And now they’re gone?

  Because he ate her?

  And she tried to eat my mom?

  I don't know what that means.

  I can’t comprehend it.

  Bombs in LA.

  Mist that makes you freeze up.

  “Kids!” Ms. Mara shouts into the darkness, waving her phone flashlight back and forth as if she’s at a concert. “Come here!”

  We all hurry forward, rushing to her.

  “It seems we have something of a situation,” Ms. Mara speaks, shining her flashlight on her face like she’s about to tell us a campfire story, except she’s crying. “A problem—” She sniffles and wipes her eyes as she tries to gather herself. “How many of you have been able to get ahold of your parents or families?”

  I lift my phone in my hand as several wide-eyed teenagers join me. She scans the crowd of us with the light from her cell.

  “So you clearly know the state back—back home,” her voice cracks as she puts the flashlight under her face. “I don't know if we can go back there right now, while this emergency is going on.” She swallows and stares out, not really at any of us but maybe through us into the dark. “I don't know what to say.” She admits the delicate truth, “We don't have protocols for a moment such as this. I honestly don’t know what to do. The principal has no advice. We’re on our own.”

  “Maybe we should get back to the hotel and try to figure out a game plan from there. We for sure can’t go home. I mean, the border is likely not letting people back in,” Louis offers. Everyone starts to give each other looks, perhaps grasping the possibility that we might not be able to go home, at all. But for how long? And what will we find at home when we do go back?

  “What if we head for the mainland and try to cross the border closer to Montana?” Mitch suggests. “So at least we’re close to home.”

  “Yes, we might be able to do that.” Ms. Mara nods. “We might be able to.” She is lost and not leading us.

  “Okay, everyone back to the bus!” Louis shouts, taking over completely. He’s obviously onto what I’m seeing. Ms. Mara is not okay, and we can’t afford our leader to lose her mind.

  Not that any of us are okay. I’m numb and overwhelmed at the same time.

  What I saw on my phone isn’t anything different from what I’ve seen a hundred times on TV, so it doesn’t feel real. Zombies are a scary movie with friends, eating popcorn and jumping when the monsters come out of the shadows.

  This is something else.

  The tone in my mother’s voice was something else.

  Something I don't have the ability to cope with.

  Following Louis and Ms. Mara to the bus, I try to feel scared or something. But I’m numb. I’m stuck in disbelief, with everyone else around me losing it.

  A couple of kids are crying.

  Vanessa hugs one of the girls, whispering that it’s going to be okay. I didn't expect her to be cool in a moment like this. She’s always so annoying.

  The parking lot is different now too. People are hurrying to the vehicles, checking their phones and shouting at their kids. The fear in their voices is different too, not like on TV. It strikes a bone or a nerve or whatever the stupid saying is. They’re terrified. It reminds me of a movie scene, fireflies in the shape of cell phones bouncing about in a panic.

  I shiver in the damp cold and wonder how this will end.

  “Let’s go, Tan, move your ass.” Louis pushes me up onto the bus as the doors close.

  I find a seat as everything becomes a sea of panic. It’s darker here on the bus, and somehow c
older. Everyone is talking, too fast and too much, all at once. They begin making calls again, speaking in hushed tones into their phones to people who are panicking somewhere else. Our teacher is whispering to Louis. And I’m numb.

  The parking lot empties as everyone flees, speeding away from us, lights getting smaller and smaller. Leaving us more in the dark.

  “We need to take a vote. This isn’t a decision we can make on our own.” Louis stands as he speaks, shining his flashlight on his face like it’s his turn to tell the camp story. “Everyone needs to be quiet and pay attention.” He glances back at our teacher before he speaks again, “Who wants to try to make it to the mainland on the US coast and find a way to get home, even though we know home is under an attack of some sort?”

  He scans the crowd with his flashlight, no one raises their hand. It’s the dumbest question we’ve ever been asked. Why would we go to America when America is under attack?

  “And who wants to try to make the mainland, not go home, just make our way through Canada and get as close to home as we can and wait for this to be taken care of by the military?”

  A couple of kids raise their hands but not close to half. Mitch is one of them.

  “And who votes we stay here in Victoria and wait this out?”

  The rest of us raise our hands.

  It makes the most sense to me.

  The mainland has zombies.

  America has zombies.

  We should stay here on this island and wait it out.

  “Okay.” He sits back down and continues talking with Ms. Mara.

  “Where’s the bus driver?” I lean into their conversation and ask.

  “Gone,” Louis answers softly. “He left us.”

  “So how will we get back to the hotel?” I lean forward, lowering my voice, “We can’t walk, we shouldn't be outside. Just in case.”

  “Tanya’s right.” Mitch leans forward too. I didn't realize he was sitting with me. “If this is some kind of virus, we shouldn’t be near big populations. Victoria is a major center. We should leave the city.”

  “What?” Ms. Mara gives him a look.

  “I saw it on Buzzfeed. If there was ever a pandemic or viral outbreak, large centers with airports and seaports are the worst. They always get taken over first because of travel.” Mitch makes sense, which is probably a bad sign. He always sounds a bit crazy with his conspiracy theories and talks of bunkers. I’m starting to see the light on a few things he’s mentioned before. I bet the bunker people are doing great right now.

  “Where would we go?” Ms. Mara asks.

  “Out into the middle of nowhere and wait and see.” Mitch shrugs. “We could find a farm and get a good radio and listen for news.”

  “Let’s just go to the hotel and see if they know anything.” Louis clearly doesn't like the idea of going to the middle of nowhere. I can’t say I blame him. Finding an abandoned farm with a radio seems a bit too good to be true.

  “Okay,” Ms. Mara agrees. Louis jumps into the driver’s seat and starts the bus. Him driving makes my rattled nerves light up.

  “Have you ever driven a bus before?” I try not to say too loud.

  “Nope,” Louis replies with a heavy sigh.

  Mitch reaches over and wiggles his fingers into mine, gripping my hand. My fingers relax into his grip, but my palms sting. I didn't realize I was balling up my hands so tightly, my nails were biting into them.

  He doesn't say anything. He holds my hand as Louis drives, making the bus jerk and shudder until he gets us out of the empty parking lot.

  I peer back at the field and wonder how far we are from the fort we saw yesterday. Fort Rodd Hill. If we could get there maybe we’d be safe. It was built to keep things out.

  That’s really all I recall from the tour.

  And I only remember it now because the tour guide made a joke about the world ending and it being a safe place to be.

  Could the world be ending?

  Chapter 3

  The city streets are busy, lit up with cars driving faster than the roads are made for, skidding and screeching around us.

  “Asshole,” Louis mutters under his breath as a car cuts us off, making him hit the brakes a little too hard. We jerk and grip the seats in front of us, fingers clawing in, as we take in the pandemonium around us. Accidents. People running. Shouting. All of it made worse by the darkness and inconstant lighting provided by vehicles and people.

  “Left up here at the next set of lights,” Mitch says, staring at the map on his phone.

  “Okay.” Louis is clearly annoyed but manages to make the left turn even with the cars trying to get around him and honking.

  In a set of headlights, I see a flash of something fly by the bus, running at full speed.

  I stand, watching it out the other windows as it vanishes and reappears in different lights.

  It’s a man. He’s chasing someone.

  A lady.

  Her stark and terrified face looks back over her shoulder. She screams and pushes harder, running faster, but she can’t get away.

  “Oh my God!” someone in the back shouts as another set of headlights shine on the man as he tackles the lady to the ground. She fights but he pins her, biting down on her arm as she fights him.

  She screams.

  He tears her flesh with his teeth, spraying blood onto his face.

  We scream.

  “What?” Louis shouts, clearly not seeing any of it.

  “It’s here!” Vanessa screams.

  The bus turns and we spin, watching the horror show until we move past a building and lose it.

  Mitch lifts my hand and his, plucking his fingers from my grip, flexing for a moment before taking my hand again. I try to lessen my squeeze on him, but I can’t. I’m shaking and panicking, silently. I’ve never been much of an outward screamer.

  “He bit her,” I whisper after a moment.

  “I know,” Mitch also whispers.

  “What are we going to do? It’s here.” God, why is it here too?

  “I don't know.”

  The gravity of the situation hits me, hard. I’d been confused and scared and worried, but mostly numb. Now that I’m aware, I miss being lost. Knowing what we’re facing is much worse than the uncertainty before. This isn’t a video of some random person. This is real.

  The bus jerks and we’re at the hotel. The red sign of the car park is above us, flickering and casting a creepy glow on the damp cement of the lonely alley.

  Louis sighs again, but this time it’s all relief. He slumps and lets go of the wheel, flexing his fingers. When he turns back to us, the stress of it all has given him a bloodshot eye that’s made worse by the red glow of the sign and the weird lighting in the bus.

  “You okay?” Mitch asks.

  “No, man. This is nuts,” Louis answers, his stare darting to Ms. Mara who is on the phone again. She sobs quietly, covering her eyes and whispering.

  I have to assume she’s talking to her family. She’s newly divorced with two small kids. Her oldest isn’t even Mason’s age, he might be eight. “I love you too,” she says and turns the phone off, holding herself. Mitch does the same thing for her that he did for me. He lets go of me and moves into her booth, wrapping an arm over her shoulders and holding her. She sobs, losing it completely, making a few kids in the back cry.

  Louis stands, maybe to speak, when there’s a bang.

  Something hits the bus. Not something, someone.

  We all spin, staring at the face at the door. It’s a man. He turns around and looks behind him, as if something is coming. He bangs again. “Let me in!” He sounds desperate, something we don't fully understand until the thing chasing him comes into view under the streetlights. A woman with blood all over her white sweater rushes him. He bangs and screams louder. Louis opens the door and the man jumps on, turning around as the door spins shut, trapping the woman outside.

  But she doesn't give up.

  She attacks, savagely. She hits and pounds o
n the door, shaking the bus and making us all cry out as we back up.

  The man moves up the stairs slowly, not looking at any of us, his eyes lock on the person raging on the door. She moves and hits as if she feels nothing. Her skin cracks open and bleeds as she pounds harder and harder, rocking the bus back and forth with her efforts. She leaves smears of blood and bits of skin on the glass.

  The man backs up right into Louis who doesn't move for him. They spoon, standing and gaping at the door. Louis clings to him.

  The rest of us climb from our seats, heading to the emergency door at the back. Even Ms. Mara is with us. All eyes are on the front of the bus. Then the entrance to the alley as something moves in front of the headlights. It’s a person walking in front of the bus.

  Her head jerks to the right and she sees the woman pounding on the door of the bus and runs at her, knocking into her and turning awkwardly to pound with her.

  “We gotta get out of here,” the guy says, his eyes staying on the door.

  “We could drive the bus somewhere else,” Louis offers.

  “And go where? The streets were crazy. I guarantee roads out of the city will be nuts.” Mitch’s words are hard to hear amid the thumping. “We don't know where to go. The bus is penetrable. The hotel isn’t. I say we go for the hotel.”

  “Fine, but if we make a break for it out the back, can you all run fast?” the random man asks.

  Silence, beyond the pounding and grunts coming from outside.

  “Hey!” he shouts, turning to face us. “Can you run fast?”

  “Yeah,” we answer in unison but there is no certainty in a single voice.

  “Go to the emergency door, open it carefully, and make a dash for the hotel. I’ll distract them.” He points as he speaks.

  “Okay,” Louis says, taking slow steps from the guy who waves his hands in the air, keeping the attention of the crazy people. “Which door is the hotel one?” Louis asks, only turning away from the front of the bus at the last second. “Do you guys see it?”