Mass Extinction Event (Book 2): Days 9-16 (28 page)

Elizabeth

Pennsylvania

"Put him with the rest," Patricia says. "Let's get them on top of each other, so they burn faster."

As I pull Thor's dead body across the yard, I almost stumble in the mud. Managing to stay upright at the last moment, I finally get to the small bonfire that Patricia has built in the clearing, and with the last of my energy I manage to haul the corpse on top of the other two. Taking a step back, I try to get my head around the fact that an hour ago, these three men were still alive, and now they're piled up ready to be burned. I hated Eriksen, I disliked Thor and I never really got to know Bridger, but I never felt they deserved to die.

"You did a good job," Patricia continues, picking up a can of gasoline and starting to pour it over the bodies. "Were you careful? Until we know how this thing transmits from one person to the next, we need to be careful. You didn't take the gloves off, did you? Not even for a moment?"

"No," I reply, feeling as if my mind is completely blank. I guess I can't quite take in the enormity of what I'm seeing. It's just a few minutes since these people were talking and arguing, and now they're just corpses, lumps of meat and bone ready to be tossed onto a fire and burned. "Do I have to stay and watch?" I ask after a moment.

"You need to toughen up," she replies.

"But do I really have to watch?"

"Just hang on a few more minutes," she replies, splashing gasoline over Bridger's head. "We won't be much longer."

"I think he's still alive!" I say suddenly, as I spot a vague hint of movement in Bridger's hand.

"Not for much longer," Patricia replies matter-of-factly.

"You can't just burn him like this!" I shout.

"I'm not wasting a bullet," she says calmly.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" I ask, taking a step back. "You didn't have to do any of this!"

"Any one of them could be infected," she replies. "Do you really want us to take the risk?"

"But you said it yourself," I continue, "you don't even know how the infection spreads. For all we know, the whole house could have it, and we could be infected as well!"

"I admit," she replies, "I've been considering that possibility. However, I've fairly confident that some of us seem to have a kind of genetic immunity. After all, we've both been in heavily urbanized areas where the disease was presumably running rampant. The fact that we didn't get sick means, in my opinion, that we're safe." She pauses. "Either that, or the disease is able to hide itself much more convincingly in our minds. I suppose that's a possibility that we should consider. If I'd known for sure that one of these three was infected, I'd have performed an autopsy. As it stands..." She pauses again. "Maybe I acted rashly. Maybe I should have simply incapacitated them by shooting their kneecaps, and then held them in a pit until I was able to work out how to deal with them more effectively and -"

"You're a monster," I say, interrupting her.

"Please," she replies with a faint smile, "let's not get melodramatic here. You're letting your emotions get the better of you, Elizabeth, and I think we've already seen today that such things can have very bad consequences."

"I mean it," I continue. "You don't even care about these people, do you?"

"I've tried caring about people in the past," she replies. "It... didn't end well. In my experience, the best approach is to focus on my own needs. If that makes me a bad person or a 'monster', then I guess I just have to accept whatever labels people throw at me. At the end of the day, I'm still alive and billions of other people aren't, so I guess I must have been doing something right all this time." She takes a deep breath. "I don't need you to agree with every decision I make," she continues eventually, "but I hope we can work together, Elizabeth. We have common interests."

"I don't know," I reply after a moment. "I mean, I can't..." Staring at the dead bodies on the bonfire, I try to see things from Patricia's point of view. After all, Eriksen
was
causing trouble, and he did seem to be persuading Bridger and Thor to see things from his perspective. At the same time, I don't see that Patricia had any justification for killing them. The world might have gone to hell, but we're still human beings and if we just start killing each other indiscriminately, we're no better than the creatures that are hunting us down. Then again, I can't help wondering if I'm just being hopelessly naive.

"Shit," she mutters. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Help me," Bridger moans suddenly, trying to move despite the fact that he's got both Eriksen and Thor on top of him. "Get me out of here!"

"Can you save him?" I ask, turning to Patricia.

"Maybe," she replies, putting the can of gasoline down before lighting a match. "I don't see the benefit, though. He's already cost me a bullet."

"But shouldn't we say something?" I ask, trying to delay the moment when she sets fire to the bodies. "I mean, shouldn't we..." I pause, trying to work out what, exactly, I mean. My mind is racing and I'm starting to panic, and all I know is that I can't let her burn Bridger alive. "Maybe we should say something," I continue, "to mark their passing."

"Go on, then," she replies, with a frown, "but this match is burning pretty fast."

I watch as Bridger reaches out, his hand searching for something, anything, that might save him.

"I just think," I say eventually, "that maybe we should be careful to -"

"Time's up," Patricia says.

"No, I -"

With that, she takes a step back before tossing the match onto the bodies, causing a huge fireball that immediately consumes all three corpses. Stepping back, I hold my hands up to shield my face from the heat, and for a moment I swear I can hear Bridger screaming before finally he falls silent. The flames are so strong, it's impossible to see what's happening at the center of the bonfire, but when I turn to Patricia, I realize that she's already carrying the can of gasoline back over to the farmhouse.

"Elizabeth," she says suddenly, turning back to face me, "I don't know if you've noticed, but the baby's crying. You really should give her a name, by the way. Even if it's just something you come up with on the spot." She reaches into her pocket and takes out the cigarette she showed me the other day, the one she'd been saving. With a faint smile, she walks over to the bonfire and holds the cigarette out until the end is lit, and then she takes a long drag. "God," she says eventually, "that felt good. You know what? Toad has some cigarettes in his basement. I think maybe I'm going to start smoking again. It helps me concentrate."

She holds the cigarette out for me, but I shake my head.

"You don't know what you're missing," she continues, taking another drag. "Don't spend too long out here. We've got work to do." With that, she turns and starts walking back toward the farmhouse.

Standing by the bonfire, all I can do is stare and imagine the bodies burning up in the inferno. I have no idea whether Bridger could have been saved, but he was still alive when the fire started and I'm certain he realized what was happening to him. With the baby staring up at me, I realize that there's no way I can just sit around this place with Patricia; she's clearly lost her mind, and it's only a matter of time before she decides that Toad and I, and maybe even the baby as well, are inconvenient. Then again, where else can I go? Eriksen was right when he said that I'm ill-equipped to go wandering off across the country, but if staying here isn't an option...

Glancing over at the barn next to the farmhouse, I spot Eriksen and Shauna's van, and I realize that maybe my best bet is to strike a deal with Patricia.

When I get back into the kitchen, I find Patricia washing her hands and arms in the sink. I watch her for a moment, trying to work out what must be going through her mind after she killed those three men.

"Was that the first time you've ever done anything like that?" I ask eventually.

"What?" she asks, as if nothing unusual has happened.

"Have you ever killed anyone before?"

She pauses. "Sure," she says after a moment. "I'm a doctor. People die around me all the time."

"But have you ever shot anyone?"

"No," she replies, drying her hands on a towel. "I know what you're thinking, Elizabeth, and I want you to try to understand this from my point of view. There's no place for sentimentality when you're dealing with life and death. Sure, I could have let those three guys live, but what would have happened? More arguing, more bickering, and then they'd have killed Toad and my specimen, and then things would have been tense and eventually there would have been deaths anyway. What I did, I did to ensure that the best possible outcome emerged from a situation in which death and conflict was already inevitable." She pauses. "If you think we could have sorted things out with a cozy chat around the table, you're wrong. And, I might add, hopelessly naive."

I pause for a moment. "What do you think about Toad?" I ask eventually. "Is he infected?"

She shakes her head. "Not with whatever's causing all of this. He's got a much more ordinary type of infection, although it's just as dangerous. He definitely could die."

"And there's nothing you can do for him?"

"I can't throw all my remaining supplies away on a long-shot attempt to save one guy," she replies. "Be sensible, Elizabeth."

"Let me take him away," I say suddenly. "I'll take him, and the baby, and we'll go in Eriksen's old van. We'll take enough gas to get us to Lake Ontario. I know some people who were headed that way, and I think it might be my best shot."

"You want to leave me here alone?" she replies.

"You can get on with your work," I point out. "No-one'll interrupt you -"

"I'll be alone," she says firmly. "What's wrong, Elizabeth? Are you scared of me or something?"

I pause, trying to work out what to say.

"Jesus," she mutters, "you're fucking scared of me."

"I've made my decision," I say, trying not to let my voice waver too much. "I'm going to load up the van -"

"Says who?"

"I need supplies for the journey."

"Not
my
supplies," she says, staring at me as if she hates me. "Why should I give you
my
supplies just so you can fuck off?"

"They're not yours," I reply. "Everything here is Toad's."

"Then let him come down here and make me give them up," she replies. "The world has changed, Elizabeth. Sure, all the supplies around here belong to Toad, but unless he can assert his right to them, it doesn't mean a damn thing. I need everything here." She picks up the gun from the counter-top. "The only way anyone's getting even a drop of the supplies around here is if they take them by force," she continues, fixing me with a determined stare that leaves me in no doubt that she'd shoot me if necessary. "This is how the world works now. There's no legal authority to back up claims of ownership. You get what you can take, and you keep what you can defend."

"So you're going to shoot me if I try to leave?" I ask, trying to work out what to do next.

She pauses. "No," she says eventually, putting the gun back in the holster around her waist. Walking around the table, she comes closer, but it's clear that she's planning something. "There are four hundred and nine bullets left on this property, for various different weapons. If I shoot you, that's a waste of something like a quarter of a per cent of my ammunition." She pauses. "Put the baby down."

I take a step back. "Why?"

"Just put her down."

"Why?"

"For her sake," she replies, before suddenly lunging at me, pulling me across the room and finally slamming my head into the fridge, knocking me out immediately.

Thomas

Missouri

"Told you," Joe says as I enter the bedroom. "Isn't this fucking sweet?"

I stare at him. Or rather, at
her
. It's the old woman from yesterday, the same one whose decrepit, emaciated body seemed to have been left in this bed for so long. Her skin is gray and peeling, with yellow and green blotches, and her thin hair is hanging like cotton from her head. The difference this time, however, is that now she's got a grin on her face, and she's staring at me as if she finds this whole situation funny. Despite her appearance, there's something indefinably familiar about the whole thing, as if the old woman's face somehow has Joe's expression.

"Pretty cool, huh?" she says. "Don't worry about the fact that I look like some kind of mummified hag. The point is, I was able to move into her body. I can see through her eyes, Tommy, and that's basically how I found Martha, even though she's out in California. This old crone's already dead, and her body's no use, so I guess I won't stick around, but I just wanted you to see that I'm still out there somewhere. I'll be in the ether, going from body to body, looking for a way to bring this fucking asshole down. Maybe I can do it from the inside."

"Joe?" I say, unable to quite believe what I'm seeing.

"Sucks that she's such an old hag," he continues. "Maybe I should try to find someone a bit hotter some time, if you know what I mean. I wouldn't mind getting some action, maybe have a little sexy time with a mirror." He laughs. "Yeah, maybe that's what I'll do next. I'll go body-hopping through a bunch of fucking hot chicks and see what I can get up to. Maybe if I can occupy two bodies at once, I can..." He pauses. "I could occupy two hot women at once," he continues, with a sense of awe in his voice, "and make 'em do things with each other, and I'd be able to watch from both angles. Jesus fucking Christ, can you imagine how incredible that'd be? I need to do it, even if they're fucking zombies. Jealous?"

"Are you serious?" I ask, walking toward him.

"Hell, no," he replies. "I'm not serious about anything, Tommy. But it's real as all Jesus." He pauses. "You need to get going," he says after a moment. "Tommy, you need to go and meet Martha. She's pretty much the only family we've got left, so you need to go and help her and let her help you. Don't worry about anything else. Just get the hell out of here and come up with a plan once the pair of you are together. How long's it been since we saw Martha, anyway? Fucking years! She's pretty smart, when she's not being dumb. You can trust Martha. I mean, hell, she's managed to survive this long, so she must be doing something right."

"She can't be alive," I reply. "It's not possible."

"Would I lie to you?" he replies. "There are people out there, Tommy. Not many, but enough. A few million. Maybe if everyone gets together, they can do something about this cluster-fuck. These creatures, they're not so tough, and they're still rotting. Whatever this guy's plan is, I'm not sure it's going totally according to schedule, so there's still room for maneuver. He's panicking. He's getting more and more scared, and he's got less time to spend bragging and taunting us. He's racing from body to body, desperately hoping to find something. To be honest, it's kind of fun to watch."

"I can't leave you like this," I say, staring at him.

"What, stuck in some old hag's body?" He smiles. "I'm not stuck anywhere, kid. I can go to other bodies, other creatures. I don't know if the big guy even knows I'm doing it, but I'll try to stay all subtle and quiet, like. And then maybe, eventually, I'll pop out of another creature and say hi. I dunno, I'm getting kinda tired, so I think I need to rest, but I'll do whatever I can. As you can imagine, it's a pretty major mind-fuck right now. I just..." He pauses. "I just figured I show let you know that I'll be out there somewhere. I ain't dying, Tommy. Not yet. Maybe not ever, not now. I can go watch people all over the world, maybe even talk to them if I can summon up enough energy."

"So you'll come back?" I ask. "I'll see you again?"

"Reckon so," he replies. "You and Martha are family, so I'll find you somehow." He stares at me for a moment. "Tommy, how many fucking times do I have to tell you? Get the fuck out of here, okay? Do you really wanna leave Martha waiting for you out there? She's not exactly armed to the teeth, so make sure you get over to her and help her out, okay? I know she's older than you, Tommy boy, but there are some things she's better at and there are some things you're better at. You might make a decent team. Better than you and me, anyway." He smiles. "Go!"

"If I
don't
see you again," I continue, with tears in my eyes, "I'll come back to this place and check up on you."

"I won't be here," he replies. "Fuck, I'm already getting out. I'll seeya around, Tommy. Just promise me you'll find Martha. I set it up already, so if you don't go and meet her, you'll be letting her down. She was holed up pretty safe in San Francisco, so she's risking her life to go and find you. You'd better make damn sure that you don't let her down. This is a matter of life and death, kid."

"Yeah," I reply. "Of course."

"
Promise
me!"

"Of course I'll find her," I say firmly. "Even if it's the last thing I do. I'll go to that four corners place and if she's not there, I'll wait until..." I pause for a moment. "I'll wait forever if I have to. I'll find her."

"Okay," he replies. "That's good enough for me. See you around, Tommy. I'm off into the ether." He smiles, and then suddenly the old woman's body collapses back down onto the bed, landing in a dead heap.

"See you around," I mutter, before turning and running.