by Tara Brown
Again, none of us speak. There’s some soft crying, a few sniffles, and I’m pretty sure I heard someone praying a minute ago. I feel sick. I might actually get sick.
“Open that door silently,” the man stresses. “All of you get out quietly, then sprint as hard as you can away from here. You’ll draw them away, and I’ll make my getaway in the other direction when you’re all safe in the hotel.”
“Thanks for helping us, man,” Louis offers.
“Gotta stick together,” the guy says. “Good luck and follow the leader. Don’t panic and spread out. Get to the hotel and barricade the door,” he says as he continues waving his arms to hold the attention of the freaks outside.
A shiver of either I’m going to pee my pants or throw up hits me as Louis squeezes through the crowd of us. He bends down and puts his hands on the handle. He pauses and turns and gives us all a worried stare.
My heart feels like it might burst from my chest.
The lady monsters are still banging.
Everyone is breathing too heavily.
Louis has never looked so scared.
“Everyone, listen. We’re gonna run for that door over there—the one we came out this morning,” Mitch whispers. “Pull your hotel key cards out now so we’re ready for whoever gets there first; they can unlock it.”
We all move at the same time, pulling them from our pockets. My fingers shake so hard I almost snap the stupid plastic card in my jeans before I get it out.
Ms. Mara puts a hand on Louis’s shoulder, squeezing once as he nods then turns the handle, unsealing the bus.
The air and noise of the alley seeps in. He pushes the door, creating a soft creak. The Canadian dude in the front hits the door and makes noise, covering for us as the hinges squeak to life.
“Go!” the Canadian dude shouts, causing a commotion.
Louis jumps down first, holding the door. We move forward as a herd, everyone desperate to get out, needing to push. The first few people climb down softly but the rest start moving quicker and louder, feet slapping the concrete as they run. Mitch is in front, already hurrying to the door with his room key out. Somehow, I’ve been shoved to the back.
I’m almost off the bus when a window breaks.
“Shit!” the guy shouts, turning and running for me.
As I jump down, someone gets dragged with me. The Canadian guy leaps, landing in front of me somehow and grabs my hand as Louis grabs the other kid’s hand. They drag us forward as Mitch shouts, “Hurry the fuck up!”
We sprint, feet slapping pavement and no one trying to be quiet.
A grunt draws my eyes back over my shoulder. They’re right behind us.
The guy pulls me through the doorway.
I make eye contact with one of them in the gap.
The metal door slams shut with the sound of the impact behind it. They’re bouncing off the door, screaming and clawing and then silent.
My breath bursts from me with a gasp and I realize I’ve been holding it. Huffing for air, I turn to see the long hallway of the basement floor of our hotel behind us. The lights flicker a bit, but it’s empty. It’s where we boarded the bus this morning.
“That was intense,” Mitch whispers.
Louis walks up behind me and glances down at my legs, wrinkling his nose. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He doesn't have a chance to help me walk. My stomach unclenches and I gag, moving forward quickly and away from him. I stop at the garbage next to the ice machine and lean over it, emptying everything from my guts.
“Okay, it’s all right, Tanya,” Ms. Mara coos, rubbing my back with her shaking fingers as I continue to throw up, clutching to the sides of the bin until my legs can’t stand. I drop to my knees, gagging, gripping, and heaving one last time. It ends with a shudder and the distinct smell of pee. It takes me several minutes to realize it’s me. I’ve peed my pants. It’s in my sneakers and my socks are soaked. And it’s still warm. I want to be embarrassed but I can’t. I’m too scared to cope or care. I’m not going to make it. I’m going to die, but I won’t die. I’ll become one of them.
“Come on, kid.” The Canadian guy lifts me off the floor and helps me stand. “We gotta get above this ground level. You guys have rooms?” he asks as he helps me limp down the hallway to the elevator.
“We have eleven rooms on the fifth floor,” Ms. Mara says softly, her fingers trembling and pale, still clutching her phone.
At the elevator, we all pause, watching Louis and Mitch scan the foyer. There is no one here. It’s pleasant and quiet and just a hotel lobby.
When the elevator dings, Mitch waves an arm like we’re military, and we all hurry through the double doors after him.
In the elevator, we snuggle in, cramming well over the ten-person limit. It doesn't seem to mind the added weight, hurrying us up to the fifth floor and opening promptly.
Again, Louis and Mitch climb out, listening and looking. We all remain frozen, waiting for something bad. The girl next to me, Cynthia, whimpers and snuggles into the arms of her friend, Naira. As Louis, Mitch, and the Canadian guy wave us forward from the hall, we leave the elevator in a cluster and follow them down the right side of the hallway to our rooms. Cards are scanned and doors are opened and in moments we’re in our respective rooms.
I’m alone in mine. My roommate, Bev, isn’t here.
I press my back against the door and lose it, sliding down and sobbing on the floor.
The whole world stops spinning for five minutes as I cry and let my brain decompress. There are no explanations or possible rationalizations for this. Zombies roam the streets, eating people, and I’m in Canada, on an island. My family and friends are back home, scared and in danger.
I don't know how it can get worse, but I know it will.
There’s no chance my circumstances can possibly improve.
And they don’t.
I’m in the middle of getting dressed when there’s a knock at the door. It makes me freeze until Bev speaks through it. “Hey, Tan. Can I come in? My card’s not working.”
“Coming!” I shout back, pulling on my shirt. I unlock it and open the door slowly, double-checking. She’s with Naira and Cynthia in the hallway. They’re traveling in herds, and I’m noticing I don't really have a herd.
They’re all in earth sciences together, and most of them are friends.
I’m the only non-earth sciences student to come on the trip, and the only one who doesn't have many friends here. Mitch and Louis are as close to friends as I have with us. Both were in my chem and physics last semester, and we were lab partners for both classes. I got invited because Ms. Mara had room for one more kid, and I was ahead of everyone else in my subjects.
I wish I hadn’t come.
“Hi.” Bev sighs. “My turn to get dressed.” She hurries in, pulling off her clothes and changing into a warmer outfit and new shoes.
“So that was intense,” Naira offers meekly.
“I pissed my pants,” I admit, as if they don't already know. As if they hadn’t smelled it in the elevator.
“Yeah.” Cynthia winces. “Me too. I’ve never been scared like that before. I can’t get warm and it’s playing over and over in my head,” her voice cracks, making me feel better in a horrible sense. They are equally terrified.
“The shower didn't warm me either. And I couldn't pull the curtain back so I showered with it open and got water all over the floor.” I point at the wet floor.
“Me too,” Cynthia adds.
“I don’t know what to do. I can’t think of a single way out of this,” I admit.
“No. I mean, what are we going to do? Steal a boat and go to the mainland and steal buses so we can get from here to a border crossing near home? That’s crazy. Do any of us even know how to steal a bus?” Cynthia and I are on the same page. “Or a boat?”
“I’m ready,” Bev interrupts us as she pulls on her jacket. “Everyone’s meeting in Ms. Mara’s room. I think the decisions are being made in there.” She lin
ks her arm in mine and we all walk from the room. I check to make sure I have my phone and key before the door closes and follow them to our teacher’s hotel suite.
Ms. Mara’s room is double the size of ours, and already the kids and the random Canadian guy are there. He’s on the phone, pacing in the corner. “Okay, well then I guess that’s what we have to do. Hold the boat for us. Don't leave without me.” He nods. “Okay. See ya soon.” He presses the “end” button and turns to us. “My cousin has a fishing boat. He can get us out.”
“Out?” I ask, turning to Louis.
“We can’t stay on the island.” He explains, “The mainland is just as overrun but at least the roads go somewhere. Here, we’ll eventually run out of places to run. Being surrounded by water, cold water, won’t end well.”
“I agree,” Mitch says quietly.
“They change in a matter of a few minutes,” the Canadian guy mutters randomly. “I heard it was slower when it started. On the East Coast the change took a while. Here, it’s almost right away.”
“Like they’re evolving?” Mitch asks.
“Exactly. I’ve never heard of anything like it.” The Canadian mutters, “They will outnumber us soon, if they don't already.”
“Right,” Ms. Mara speaks softly, her face pale and tight with worry. “We will make for the boat. How far is it from here?”
“Fisherman’s Wharf is half a block from the hotel. And there’s a Canadian forces base across the water. My cousin is planning to drive the boat over there and see if they are taking in civilians. We just have to run to the wharf and meet him. Then we’re made.” He sounds positive. It’s a nice change from everything else the last hour and a half has entailed.
Chapter 4
“Run!” the Canadian screams back at us as he sprints away. The footsteps behind us become louder.
Getting out of the hotel didn’t prove to be hard at all. But making it to the wharf is something else altogether.
Our group moves fast, feet slapping and breath gasping, but there’s a horde behind us. A scream at the back, one that’s vaguely familiar, suggests someone has been caught but I can’t look back. I can’t worry about them. I have to run. I have to follow the Canadian. If I lose him, I’m dead.
It’s dark and the mist has rolled in from the sea, making this harder.
He turns a corner, screaming back again, “Faster!”
I don't have anything left, but my feet pick up and I lean forward, my body responding to the fear. I pass Cynthia on the outside, driving myself to get closer to the man peering back, waving his arms for us to follow. He’s a gazelle, impossible to catch.
He cuts across a lawn and through the courtyard of another hotel or apartment building.
I’m exhausted but a scream in the distance, off to the left, brings a fresh dose of terror.
I pass Mitch, almost catching the Canadian as he turns to the right, headed for the ocean. He jumps a flight of stairs and lands with a thud on a dock. I don't jump the stairs so Mitch passes me as he lands and pushes with his legs. A man at the end of the huge wooden walkway is screaming at us to hurry.
He’s standing aboard a large boat with a rifle in his hands, aimed right at us.
My stomach lurches.
The Canadian jumps from the dock onto a plank, climbing onto the boat. He boards and spins, helping Louis who is next. Then Mitch. Then me. I’m gasping for air as I stagger to the other side of the boat and cling to the edge. I can’t look back; I can’t see them running for us. I can’t see who is missing. Because I won’t unsee it.
My chest tightens as I gag. I’m not sure if it's the exertion or the fear but when I lean forward, off the side of the boat, I lose the water I drank in Ms. Mara’s room. It’s not much but it mixes with tears and rains down into the calm waters below.
Someone behind me screams.
I close my eyes and for the first time since my parents’ divorce, I pray. It’s silent and private and just between me and whoever is listening to my quiet desperation.
Please, don’t let me die.
It’s selfish and I’m ashamed but not enough.
Everyone screams over one another, shouting, “HURRY” and “GO!”
The boat makes a roar.
The gun fires multiple times.
More screams.
I don't know what’s happening. My eyes are closed and my lips are moving though the sound is lost, begging God to spare me.
“Tanya!” Louis screams and I spin, but he’s spinning me. I open my eyes to see his, wide and bloodshot, scared and watery. “Are you okay?” He tries to sound calm.
“No.” My lip trembles and he pulls me in, hugging me tightly.
“We made it. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
Over his shoulder I watch the dock getting smaller and smaller. The horde on the end is huge, unmoving. They stand motionless in the mist and watch us leave. It’s beyond eerie.
“Holy shit!” The Canadian laughs bitterly, wiping his face and catching his breath. “I can’t believe we made it.” He’s holding the gun now. The other man is gone, I assume he’s the one driving the large fishing boat.
The small lights on the deck reveal the terror-filled faces of my fellow students. One face is missing.
“Where’s Ms. Mara?” I ask Louis.
He shakes his head slowly as he pulls me back. His eyes tell me the whole story.
“Oh God.” The scream! I slip a hand over my spit-coated lips, wiping them. A shudder creeps over me, through me, as my gaze moves to the dock. I wonder if she’s there. If she’s changed like my old neighbors did. “Poor Ms. Mara.” What will her kids do without her? What would I do without my mother? I can’t think about that.
“You guys okay?” the Canadian asks. “I mean, I know you’re not okay but is anyone bit or injured?”
My eyes lower to my body as Louis pulls back and does the same thing. I check, doing inventories of my extremities. I’m okay. The things that are sore or tired are explained away easily. I don't have any injuries. My brain does a slow walk-through of the events.
Creeping through the hotel hallways, delicately walking the stairs to the main floor, listening with the taste of terror on my lips like a scream waiting to break free. The lobby was empty when we crossed to the side entrance. Something moved above us but we couldn't hear it well enough to tell how close it was. The street was chaos, cars and trucks and screams, but we slinked through an alley, hugging buildings.
That was when we saw the first one. It was frozen, a man in a suit with a deadened stare.
He flashed to life in front of us, running for us. The Canadian hit him with a piece of metal and we got away. But the running and the screaming was too much noise. That’s when the rest of them came.
They moved so fast, as though they didn't feel pain or tire.
My brain refuses to let out the rest of the images.
The scream.
Tears push from my eyes.
She’s gone.
“Okay, no bites. Good stuff.” The Canadian nods. “I’m Jeff, by the way.” He seems nervous.
“Louis.” Louis holds his hand out. “So you’re cool to help us get to the mainland and then find transportation to the border near Montana?”
“I mean—I guess—we’ll see what we can do.” Jeff shrugs.
I notice for the first time many of the kids are crying quietly. A few are throwing up over the edge like I did. Everyone is soaked in sweat and mist and dank ocean air. We’re starting to shiver, all similarly. My legs almost buckle as the boat turns.
The ride feels like it has only been a second or two but we’re already slowing down.
“This is the Esquimalt military base.” Jeff points to the front of the boat where the light shines on a bunch of other boats.
“Stop!” someone shouts in a weird robotic voice. Lights flash, coming from the front and surrounding us, blinding us with the glare. “You can go no further. This is a protected area.”
&
nbsp; Jeff’s cousin comes out of the cabin and shouts, “We need to get in there. We’re all fine. No one’s bitten!”
“No one can enter here. You have to turn around,” the robotic voice shouts back.
“To what, man? Go back to the city and die? Let us in!” Jeff’s cousin is losing it.
“No one is permitted past—”
“Fuck you! This is a boatload of kids, ya bunch of assholes. Children!” Jeff’s cousin shouts, throwing something at the boat in front of us but they do not move. “Dammit!” he screams and goes back into the cabin, slamming the door.
Our boat roars and he turns us around in a way it feels like it isn’t meant to. He screams something else from the cabin and my legs buckle, sliding down the wooden wall of the deck. I sit in the wet and cold water on the floor, shivering and terrified and unsure of everything.
The second part of the boat ride is much longer, and bumpier. The air is cold, but I think I’m frozen from trauma.
Jeff comforts some of the other kids with Louis, talking and trying to make them laugh or distract them. He’s good at this. Not that there is anything he could say to me to make me feel better.
Trying to stay awake is tough, I’m losing. I end up staring at nothing and blinking for long periods of time. Coasting in the bumpy darkness isn’t helping. It makes me want to sleep more. The nausea hitting me is the only thing keeping me awake.
Mitch comes and sits next to me.
He makes a long scratching noise as he slides down the wall. “My phone lost signal about fifteen minutes ago,” he says and I realize I haven’t looked at mine since we got on board.
“Maybe it’s because we’re so far out,” I answer, hoping I’m right.
“What if service is gone? No more signal. No more cell phones. Then what? Water or power? I haven’t seen a single light in an hour.” He sounds genuinely worried which makes me even more uncomfortable.
“Don't you have a bunker somewhere?” I joke, trying to lighten this for us both before I start crying again. I’m way too queasy to cry.
“I never got past the planning stage.” Mitch grins, his smile lightening this a bit. “I was a little short on funds. Bunkers are expensive.” He tilts his head back, staring at the starry sky above. The mist is gone but the moisture remains, making me cold in places I didn't know got cold.
