No turning back, p.34
No Turning Back, page 34
“Me,” one of the adults said. She wore jeans and a plaid shirt which didn’t fit, and a green baseball cap beneath which were tufts of scissor-cut blonde hair. Mid-thirties, but maybe younger.
“Noise brings trouble, Yollie,” Abraham said.
“A plane brings help, Abraham,” Yollie replied.
“Does it?” Abraham asked.
“Oh, let them in,” Aqsa said. “I want to hear about Australia.”
Abraham swung himself aside so they could enter, then closed the gate before swinging to the internal gate, and opening that. “And who said you could abandon your posts?” he added, turning on the children. “Back you go until the all-clear’s been sounded. Go on, now. You folks said you came from West Virginia?”
“And the other Virginia before that,” Olivia said. “A ship was supposed to pick us up from Savannah, but we didn’t think we’d make the rendezvous, so opted for Canada instead.”
“Why?” Aqsa asked.
“It’s a long story,” Olivia said.
“Stories are for bedtime,” Abraham said, turning to look back through the gates. He seemed almost disappointed that there were no more zombies.
“You guys have guns, and a dog to keep watch,” Aqsa said. “So maybe we could start moving the bodies now. There are lots.” The question was directed at Abraham.
“You got ammo for those guns?” Abraham asked.
“A few hundred rounds,” Corrie said.
“Not enough, so grab a spear,” Abraham said. “Walk clockwise inside the outer-most fence. I’ll go the other way. Two of you do that. Two of you help Aqsa, and don’t blame me if you get bit.”
“Thanks, Abe,” Aqsa said. “C’mon, the cart’s over here. You’ll want a scarf, too. I can offer you sea breeze or butterfly kisses.”
“What kind of colour is a sea breeze?” Olivia asked.
“Oh, that’s not the pattern,” Aqsa said. “It’s the perfume. Trust me, you’ll need it.”
Leaving Corrie and Lisa to patrol, Pete, Olivia, and Rufus followed Aqsa over to a row of large garages, each with a metal door, painted blue, except where a three-digit number had been painted in white in the centre. Waiting outside was a recently built cart. About the size of a car, and with a car’s tyres, it had a metal frame, wooden sides, a ladder-and-bracket crane, a hoist and winch with a ratchet handle, and a rubber sling. In the back were a pair of shovels, a box of gloves, and three bottles of bleach.
Aqsa walked over to a small table next to the cart, on which were a stack of folded scarves and an assortment of perfumes and deodorants, and against which leaned another five metal spears.
“I’d recommend butterfly kisses,” Aqsa said, pointing to the scarves. “It’s kinda citrusy, but very strong.”
Olivia passed a scarf to Pete before spraying one for herself. “What are we doing with this cart?” she asked.
“Moving the bodies away from the fence,” Aqsa said. “That’s why we’ve got the winch. We move the bodies to that field across the road. We didn’t think there’d be so many when we started. But we also thought we could power up the incinerator. Give it a shove, it’s hard to get moving,” she added, picking up the cart’s handle. “You guys really came from Australia?”
“Me and Pete come from South Bend,” Olivia said. “Just before the outbreak, he went down to Australia to find his sister, Corrie. They flew north, afterwards, to find me.”
“And to make contact with the Canadians,” Pete said.
“It’s more romantic if you say it was just to find me,” Olivia said. “We were married a few weeks ago.”
“Congrats,” Aqsa said, as they pushed the cart through the gate. “You flew back to America after the outbreak?”
“First time, yes,” Olivia said.
“Hurry it up,” Abraham said, impatiently waiting to close the gate behind them.
“He’s a sweetie on the inside,” Aqsa said as they wheeled the cart outside. “But on the outside, he’s a cactus. So you went from Australia to Canada?”
“We fought with General Yoon and Judge Benton in Canada,” Olivia said. “After the bombs fell, we tried to reach Vancouver so we could link up with the Pacific Alliance, but we got caught by the cartel.”
“A cartel? You mean criminals?” Aqsa asked.
“Nasty people,” Olivia said. “They were partly behind this mess.”
“You mean the zombocalypse? How do you know?”
“That’s part of the longer version of the story,” Pete said. “But the cartel flew us down to the Caribbean, where we were rescued by some soldiers and cops from Australia. They were hunting the cartel, too.”
“So you’re cops, then?” Aqsa asked.
“Not really,” Pete said. “I was deputised back in Broken Hill.”
“We’re not cops,” Olivia said. “We’re just people trying to make the world a little less worse.”
“Cool,” Aqsa said. “Next question, where’s Broken Hill, and who are General Yoon and Judge Benton?”
“Let’s start again,” Olivia said, giving a slightly romanticised, and severely edited, version of the story while Pete hooked a chain around the legs of a corpse wearing a fluorescent vest.
With the chain attached, Aqsa turned the ratchet until the body was level with the cart. With a shove, the corpse was swung aboard, the chain was unhooked, and they moved on to the next.
It was slow, dirty, throat-gagging work. The scarves helped, but only a little. Finally, with eight bodies aboard, they dragged the cart down to the highway. After they’d slid and pushed the corpses into the ditch, Pete paused, taking in the wrecked vehicles along the roadside. There were fewer here than nearer the plane. His gaze settled on the birds feasting on the cloud of insects adventurous enough to taste the undead’s diseased flesh.
“It’s a lot of bodies,” Pete said.
“I stopped counting ages ago,” Aqsa said.
“How long have you been here?” Olivia asked.
“Since about two weeks after the outbreak,” Aqsa said. “Back then, there were soldiers here, and more were supposed to come. It’s because of the airfield. This was going to be a resupply base. But then the troop-plane crashed. We think because of the EMP.”
“What happened to the soldiers?” Olivia asked as they shoved the now empty cart back towards the compound.
“Aboard the plane? They all died,” Aqsa said.
“And the ones who were here?” Olivia asked.
“Captain Stahl led them away about a month ago. The captain put together a convoy with most of the adults, all those kids’ parents, and the remaining soldiers, and led them south. There was supposed to be this big supply base with lots of tanks and guns in a town called Florence. He went to gather what he could. They never came back. I cycled down to look, and there was no sign of them, but that was about a week later. I’d have gone sooner, but there were too many undead. Since then, we’ve focused on staying alive.”
“What kind of place is this?” Pete asked.
“It’s basically somewhere they burned documents,” Aqsa said. “There’s a big incinerator which should provide power, except it needs natural gas to get it started. We tried burning bodies with gasoline inside the furnace, but that was a complete disaster, so now we dump them on the other side of the road. We’ve got strong fences. Really strong. We’ve got a few solar panels for light and cooking. Water supplies can be a bit tight.”
“Talk later!” Abraham called from inside the gate. “Work now, or there won’t be any later. You’ve got another two to collect on the far side, so keep your eyes open!”
“He really is a sweetie,” Aqsa said. “Most of the time.”
Chapter 43 - Open Air Baths
Sidnaw, Michigan
They dumped the last cartload ten minutes before the clouds began dumping their rain.
“Perfect timing,” Aqsa said. “We could all do with a shower. I’ll fetch you guys some clothing.”
“She was joking about the shower, wasn’t she?” Olivia asked.
“I don’t think so,” Pete said, pointing to where a few of the older kids had run outside in t-shirt and shorts, and made a show of rinsing themselves beneath the rain.
“They’re just showing off,” Olivia said. “Oh, maybe not,” she added, when one of the boys pulled out a bottle of shower gel.
“There’s boiling water at the back of the office block,” Aqsa said.
“That sounds way more sensible.”
“Oh, don’t mind them,” Aqsa said. “It’s all because of the pink hair crisis last week.”
“The what?” Pete asked, but Aqsa had already jogged around the office. Pete hurried to catch up.
The inside of the compound was mostly concrete, dotted with a few warehouse-like buildings, separated with strips of worn grass, and dark streetlamps. The incinerator building was obvious from the chimney, while the two floors of windows made it clear this building had been an office. Of the others, a long low building, a short stubby one, a cluster of brown-clad three-storeys, it was pointless guessing what lay inside, but it was obvious what wasn’t: housing.
“What’s the plumbing like here?” Pete asked as they turned the corner.
“You’re looking at it,” Aqsa said, pointing at three steaming buckets, each behind their own, slightly ratty, privacy screen.
“Dare I ask what the toilets are like?” Olivia asked.
“Oh, those are fine,” Aqsa said. “There’s a septic tank, and the log book said it was emptied last November. Only twenty people worked here, and none of them actually lived here, but I don’t think we’ll fill it any time soon.”
“What about showers?” Olivia asked.
“There’s three over in the incinerator barn,” she said. “But they don’t work. When we still had gas for the generator, we powered up the pumps, but only got a trickle of water to dribble out the pipes. That’s why the kids are washing in the rain.”
“I left the Geiger counter in the plane,” Olivia said.
“We’ll get it tomorrow,” Pete said.
“You think radiation might be a problem?” Aqsa asked.
“No, I’m sure it’s fine,” Olivia said. “But I’ve seen too many craters.”
“Where?” Aqsa asked.
“We saw one near Columbus from the air, and another near Norfolk,” Olivia said. “We know there were more, further east near Toronto. We heard about bombs in Brazil, South Africa, and Vancouver.”
“It really was everywhere, wasn’t it?” Aqsa said.
“You said there’s not much water?” Pete asked.
“So far, there’s been just enough,” Aqsa said. “Sure, we all smell a bit, but it’s not much different to what life around here was like a couple of centuries ago, that’s what I tell the kids. That this is a valuable history lesson, which is probably why it’s no one’s favourite class. It’s warm inside,” she added. “And we’ve got plenty of clothes.”
“Then that’ll be five-star compared to last night,” Olivia said. “So what’s the story with the pink hair? A lot of the kids have dyed their hair, haven’t they?”
“And did you see how a lot of the others have shaved their heads?” Aqsa said. “The kids got bored. Among some of the junk brought back here was a load of hair dye. They figured, why not? And whether by design or accident, everyone got their hair dyed pink instead of whatever colour they picked.”
“That doesn’t sound like an accident,” Pete said.
“We’ve got sixty-three kids here,” Aqsa said. “Princess is the youngest, and she’s nine. Sally’s the oldest, and she’s fifteen. I swear, if it weren’t for Abraham, we’d have gone all Lord of the Flies a month ago.”
“So Abraham’s in charge?” Pete asked.
“Him and Candice. She runs the kitchens. Dinner will be waiting just as soon as you wash. I want to go pace the perimeter.” She left Pete and Olivia alone.
“Did you notice, when we came in, how the kids, and the other adults, were leaning on their spears?” Olivia asked as she pulled off her gore-flecked clothes.
“You mean that those spears would have to be clean,” Pete said.
“Right, exactly. The kids, I get,” she said. “The adults? I dunno, Pete, I don’t think it bodes well.”
The building had been an office, though most of the workrooms were upstairs. The downstairs was given over to store rooms, toilets, a small first-aid station, a few meeting rooms, and the staff break-area, which was now the cafeteria. It buzzed with chatter, most of which was coming from the children throwing questions at Corrie far faster than she could answer. As Pete’s ears adjusted to the buzz, he realised most of the questions were about the Canadian singer Dan Blaze.
A pink-haired girl wearing a too-big hockey jersey and what, probably, were prescription swimming goggles, bounced over.
“Are you Princess?” Olivia asked.
“That’s right, but you don’t need to call me your highness. Not unless we’re being formal,” she said, without even a trace of irony. “Did you really meet Dan Blaze?”
“Sorry, no,” Pete said.
“Oh. Never mind,” she said, almost managing to hide her disappointment. “Find a seat, we’ll bring you dinner.”
“Thanks so much,” Olivia said, and walked to the quieter, far corner of the cafeteria.
Six long tables nearly filled the space. Each table had five chairs on either side, and two at the end. From how the chairs were three-quarters the usual size, they must have come from a school. By the one wall with narrow, high-up windows were a pair of sofas, one of which was occupied by a grey-faced woman, covered in blankets. Pete nudged Olivia’s foot with his own, and nodded towards the woman.
“Sleeping?” he whispered.
“Sick,” Olivia whispered back. “Just enough tables. Just enough chairs. No space for many more. I think I get why the captain led a desperate mission for supplies. This place must have been heaving before everyone left.”
The kitchen was in a glass-windowed office from which the panes had been removed, allowing a mix of steam and smoke to float into the cafeteria.
“They’re cooking on open fires,” Pete muttered.
“Some propane, too, I think,” Olivia said. “But yes, that looks like a barbecue. And with how poorly their clothes fit, there can’t be enough water for laundry.”
“Or time, or electricity,” Pete said.
“Sixty-three kids,” Olivia said. “And I think Aqsa said there were seven adults.”
Pete’s gaze settled on the table where four of the grown-ups sat, just within earshot of Corrie, but still separate from the crowd of questioning children. Two men, two women, all in their late twenties to mid-thirties. They were better dressed than the children, in that their clothes fit. They didn’t look at Corrie, though they were clearly listening while pretending not to be. Their manner was so overly nonchalant, it came across as furtive. They appeared healthy enough, but they’d not helped with the fighting, the clean-up, or, it seemed, with the cooking.
“And viola,” Princess said, announcing her return.
“Voilà,” the lanky girl carrying the two trays said. “Hey, I’m Sally. Sally Rutherford.”
“That’s Pete, I’m Olivia.”
“From South Bend, right?” Sally asked. “You got married on the ship?”
“We did,” Olivia said. “You heard that part of the story?”
“It’s a sweet story,” Sally said.
“Where’s your dog?” Princess asked.
“He’s with Lisa, patrolling the walls,” Olivia said. “I don’t think he liked being stuck in the plane. And before then, he was stuck in a car for a couple of days. Who’s the woman on the sofa?”
“Candice. She runs the kitchens,” Sally said.
“And those four?” Pete asked.
“Oh, that’s just Brendon, Connie, John, and Yollie,” Princess said dismissively.
“We’ll let you guys eat,” Sally said. “C’mon, your majesty. Someone has to take out the trash.”
“Thanks,” Olivia said.
Pete kept the smile on his face as he looked down at his tray. “Plain rice, pink meat, and candy.”
“I think those are vitamin pills,” Olivia said. “And I think everyone gets the same food.”
“Reminds me of middle school,” Pete said.
“Maybe that’s where it came from,” Olivia said. “So, what do you think?”
“Paper bowls,” Pete said. “Saves on water for washing dishes. Food’s plain, but I guess the vitamins make sure we get what we need. Plus, decent portions.”
Olivia leaned forward. “Yeah, but how long have they got before this place collapses?”
Pete shrugged. “Dunno, but it’s we now, isn’t it?”
“Sun’s setting,” Abraham called from the door. “Ten minutes until lockdown. Anyone who wants fresh air, now’s the time to get it. Sally, give Candice a hand.”
Sally waved a few of the other teenagers over, and they helped the sick woman towards the door. When a pair of the children headed outside, paper airplanes in hand, Abraham limped his way after them. The other four adults made their way through a door at the far side of the room, while the other children begin meandering towards the stairs.
“So where do we go?” Pete asked.
“I guess we should check with Abraham,” Olivia said.
But outside the doors, they found Lisa, Rufus, and Aqsa watching the two children throw paper planes across the rain-damp yard.
“Where’s Abraham?” Olivia asked.
“Walking the perimeter,” Aqsa said. “He’ll come in when it’s dark.”
“Have you seen their vegetable garden?” Lisa asked. “It’s quite something. Far more impressive than the effort we saw on Long Island. There should be quite a harvest in a few months.”
“If we stay here that long,” Aqsa said.
“You’ve been thinking of leaving?” Olivia asked.
“We stayed because this is where the kids’ parents would come back to,” Aqsa said. “Well, no. We stayed because we didn’t know of anywhere better to go, and there’s no way to get there if we did. It is safe here. There should be dinner inside for us. Would you mind keeping an eye on the kids? Five minutes, and they have to come in. When they say no, just tell them you can hear Abraham is on the way back.”
