Days 5 to 8 (Mass Extinction Event Book 2) Read online

  "You didn't have to do that," I say. "He wasn't come at us. He was just talking".

  "He was fucked," Henry replies firmly. "You heard him. He was talking crap".

  "So you shot him?"

  "I had to make a decision".

  "Are you okay?" I ask as we reach the corner and make straight for our building. "Henry, seriously, is something wrong?" When he doesn't reply, I decide to just wait a few minutes. I don't care how tough he acts, he has to be affected by the fact that he killed that man. There's also the question of the man himself, and the things he said. Even though he was talking, he looked dead. I don't believe in ghosts and zombies and things like that, but I know enough to trust my own eyes. As we reach the building and head into the lobby, I can't help glancing back the way we came, just in case there are more of those things outside. Suddenly, this city feels like a far more dangerous place.

  THOMAS

  Oklahoma

  As the dead cop continues to crawl toward me, I keep stepping back. There's a part of me that wants to run, but at the same time I'm almost mesmerized by his appearance. With his discolored skin and his yellow eyes, he bears more than a passing resemblance to my mother, and to Lydia, after they were killed by the virus, and it looks as if there's blood all over his shirt. It's almost as if he burst but somehow managed to stay alive. Still, he's moving so slowly, I'm pretty sure I can keep away from him without too much trouble. It's not like he can suddenly leap out and surprise me.

  "You need to help me out," he continues, his voice sounding so old and tattered, as if the process of decay has spread all the way down his throat. "They rotted. When I tried to open the door, they just sloshed right off my wrists. It's taken me all this time. I've had to learn it all again. I thought it'd be instant, but it's taken me a while to work out how to even do the simple things. How long has it been? Can someone tell me the date? Things look so different".

  "What do you want?" I ask, still edging away from him. As he crawls closer, I can see patches of bone poking through from beneath his skin.

  "This one, anyway," he says, frowning at me. Whatever he's talking about, it's as if he's not really reacting to anything I'm saying. "Each one is slightly strange, but I'm learning. It's so unusual, losing all the little things". He looks at me for a moment, as if he finds me to be the most fascinating and confusing thing he's ever seen. "Why can't I get you all? Why are you still here? You were there when he attacked me".

  "That was him, not me," I say. "Joe attacked you. I didn't have anything to do with it. I told him not to do it. I thought he was just gonna shoot you!"

  "I heard that!" the man shouts suddenly. "Why can't I hear you? This is so much different to how I planned. I should have known. I suppose I was arrogant, but that's in the past. I don't remember anything after the airport. What was her name? Where am I? Not me. What did you say? Where's the real me? Where's the first one? They all look the same".

  "What the hell are you talking about?" I ask. "You're not making any sense. Where did you come from? Can you even hear me?" Still fighting the urge to run, I find it hard to believe that this guy is still alive. I can't help thinking that maybe his brain is technically dead, but somehow it's firing off impulses that are driving his body forward. Frankly, that's the only explanation that makes sense: this is some kind of freak reaction, like a malfunction of a human body that has already died.

  "Help me," he says after a moment, almost sounding as if he's pleading with me. "I think I need to find the original".

  "What?" I reply. "Did you come here for help? We can't help you! There's nothing we can do for you!" Turning to look over at the barn, I realize I need my brother to see this. "Joe!" I shout, trying not to sound too panicked.

  "It was bad everywhere," he hisses. "I knew it'd be bad, but it was worse than I could ever have imagined. Or better. One of the two, anyway".

  "What the hell are you on about?" I say, moving away as he crawls a little closer to me.

  "I'm not talking to you," he says.

  "Joe!" I shout, looking over toward the barn again. "Joe! Wake up!"

  "Who's Joe? Which airport?" the cop asks suddenly. "There are so many. The world's filled with airports, you know".

  "I didn't say anything about any goddamn airport," I spit back at him. "There's no airport around here".

  "Who's Bob?" the man asks, frowning.

  "There's no Bob," I say. "You're fucking losing your mind". It's pretty clear that the cop's brain is totally addled, probably after crawling through the grass for days on end. I wouldn't even be surprised if he's got maggots and stuff crawling through his body. Grabbing one of the cans of gasoline, I remove the cap and throw some over the cop's body. He doesn't seem to react at all, so I carefully move around him and tip the rest of the can over him. Joe was supposed to finish this guy off the other day, but now I'm going to make sure that his suffering is over.

  "I'm not sorry about your mother," he says suddenly, as if he doesn't care what I'm doing.

  "I'm gonna burn you and I'm gonna burn this house," I say, starting to panic. "I know it's gonna hurt at first, but trust me, it's better than leaving you here. Something's wrong with you, but hopefully you can't even feel pain, okay?" Taking a deep breath, I look up at the darkening sky. "Dear Lord," I mutter, "please forgive me for what I'm about to do. I'm only trying to save him from more pain".

  "Even if you burn it, you won't achieve anything," the cop replies. "Burn the whole planet, you still won't get it all. You can't teach poor old Joseph about these things. You can't even begin to..." His voice trails off. "You have no idea how long it took me to get here," he continues eventually. "I had to drag myself through the bushes. I was so slow, and I was distracted by so many things. It's not easy, using all these things at once. Even after everything that happened, there are so many to deal with. It's so much harder than I guessed. I got so many things right, and so many things wrong. It's taken me so long to understand my limitations, but it doesn't really matter. I'm working through it. That's one of the best parts of the whole thing, really. I can continue to learn as I go along. I can work out more and more". He pauses. "Of course it doesn't make sense to you. You're an idiot. If it made sense to morons like you, the world would never have got into this mess in the first place".

  "You're sick," I say. "I don't know if you can understand me, I don't know if you can even hear me, but I'm gonna try to explain it to you real careful and real slow, okay? You're sick. You're really, properly sick, and you're gonna die. I don't know why you're not dead already, but you're gonna die a slow and painful death. I'm gonna save you from that. This is for the best. I'm not murdering you, I'm helping you".

  "Probably the same as everywhere," he replies, almost as if he's having some other conversation in his head. "I can do this. I can definitely do this. I could do it before. It's just going to take a little time. This grass is so cold and damp. Help me into the house. I have to learn everything again. Even that stupid car door took me so long. Why can't I get out now? Is there something? I forgot about timezones. Can you believe I was so stupid? It never occurred to me that it might be the middle of the day in New York but the middle of the night in Tokyo. Day and night at the same time".

  "Please don't hate me," I mutter. Fumbling for the box of matches in my pocket, I take a deep breath, realizing I'm gonna have to just burn him. We're far enough from the truck now, so it shouldn't be dangerous. Striking the match, I watch the flame for a few seconds before looking down at the cop. He's a few feet from me still, so I figure this is the perfect moment. I have no idea why he wants to reach me, but there's no way I'm gonna let him touch me, and I don't think he's gonna stop until I do this. It's for the best. I'm saving him from the agony of his condition.

  "I'm sorry," I say weakly, staring at him, "but this is the only thing I can do to help you".

  Without wasting another second, I throw the match at him. Instantly, his entire body goes up in flames, and he lets out a brief scream before falling s
ilent. I stand back, watching in shocked awe as he seems to briefly roll onto his side before he twitches a little and then becomes completely still. For a fraction of a second, I think I can maybe hear him still screaming, but I can't be certain. What matters, though, is that after I've stood and watched the flames for a couple of minutes, I realize he's definitely dead.

  As the fire continues to rage, I can see the faintest outline of one of his hands, reaching out from the inferno but remaining completely still as the flames start spreading to the surrounding grass.

  ELIZABETH

  Manhattan

  "We're going to have a new system," Bob says as he flips the steaks on his little portable stove. "We can't afford to have this place unguarded, not even for a second, not now we know for a fact that there are possible threats out there. I want the lobby door locked at all times, and I want someone sitting with a rifle, facing that door, every single hour of the day and night. If anyone tries to get in, we meet them with maximum, lethal force". He slides a steak onto Henry's plate, then one onto mine, and finally a third onto his own. "Until we know definitively what's happening, I'm not taking any chances. The security of this building and its citizens is the most important thing, and I won't allow us to be compromised by anyone or anything".

  "I'm sorry I killed it," Henry says, staring down at his food.

  "Don't be sorry, boy," Bob replies. "You did what you had to do at the time. I don't deny that it would've been useful to have had one of those things alive, so we could study it, but let's look on the bright side. Hopefully it was a one-off, just an aberration. We might never see anything like it again, but if we do, we'll try to keep it alive so we can find out what it is. For now, though, let's take comfort from the fact that it seemed pretty dumb. I mean, it couldn't even get out of the car, right?"

  Looking down at my food, I try to take stock of the day's events. When Bob came back with us to see the dead man in the car earlier, I could immediately tell that he had no idea what he was seeing. Ever since then, he's been trying to maintain the illusion that he's in control, but something seems to have subtly changed. The certain that was such an infuriating part of Bob's character seems to have slipped a little, although over the past couple of hours he seems to have become a little steadier. Still, nothing changes the fact that none of us has any idea what's happening. We're lost and blind in a world that seems to keep throwing surprise after surprise at us, and I can't shake the feeling that despite Bob's bravado, we're slowly sinking.

  "There'll be more," I say quietly, suddenly experiencing a moment of total clarity.

  "You don't know that," Henry replies.

  "It makes sense," I continue. "Why would one of those things exist, but not others? Didn't you see how it was moving when it was talking to us? It was alive, at least partially. It was something else, something different, and there's no way that'd happen just once. There'll be more, I guarantee it".

  "You might be right," Bob says, cutting a piece from his steak. "See, Henry? Sometimes you need to listen to your sister". He turns to me. "We're gonna have to train you up on how to use a gun, Elizabeth. Not only for your safety, but for ours as well".

  "I don't know about that," I reply. "I don't really like guns".

  "A gun ain't nothing to be scared of," Bob says. "Treat it as a tool, treat it with respect, and you've got nothing to fear".

  "This is a big mistake," Henry says through gritted teeth. It's almost as if he's close to tears.

  "Would you rather your sister sat down here undefended?" Bob asks. For the first time, he seems slightly annoyed at Henry, as if he's getting tired of my little brother's tantrums. "What would you have her do? Sit around with a carving knife? Sit down here totally undefended, without even so much as a telephone so she can raise the alarm?"

  "You don't know her," Henry says, staring at me. "She's my sister. I know what she's like. She's dumb".

  "Thank you," I say, smiling at him.

  "You see?" he continues. "She can't even take this seriously".

  "Let's just calm down," Bob says. "We need to conserve energy, and you two squabbling is just a nightmare that I don't need right now. We need to work together, not pick each other apart. Henry, your input is appreciated as ever, and I hope you know by now that I value your opinion. However, we need to adapt to the situation, and if that means pulling in more resources, then so be it".

  "But if she -"

  "That's an order, soldier," Bob says firmly, glaring at my brother with an expression that leaves absolutely no doubt of his seriousness. Once again, Bob seems to be enjoying his role in charge, and now, for the first time, he's having to exercise his full authority and make Henry behave.

  "Fine," Henry mutters quietly, though it's clear that he's not convinced.

  "What's that, boy?" Bob asks, staring at him.

  "Yes, Sir," Henry says, taking a deep breath. "I shouldn't have questioned you. I know you know what you're doing, it's just that sometimes..." He looks over at me, and I swear there's genuine hatred in his eyes. I can't help wondering what, exactly, Bob has unleashed in my brother. "I'm sure she'll be fine," he says after a moment.

  "We'll do some practice work with a gun later," Bob says, turning to me, "just so you can get a basic understanding of how they work".

  "I can show her," Henry says darkly.

  "No, I'll do it," Bob replies, as if he's intentionally trying to embarrass Henry and push him away. It's pretty clear that Bob likes playing games, and that for some reason he's decided, after a few days of winding Henry closer and closer, to push him away. It seems kind of crazy that, even as we're dealing with a completely changed world, Bob is apparently keen to play mind games; even crazier is the realization that less than a week ago, when everything was normal, I'd barely even noticed that Bob existed, while Henry was just my annoying younger brother who spent too long playing video games. Has it really taken just five days for the world to turn on its head?

  The rest of the meal passes in relative silence. There's palpable tension in the air between Henry and Bob, and it's clear that Bob seems to be doing this deliberately. I feel as if I'm being used as a pawn in some kind of private feud between the pair of them, and I want to reach out and help my brother. Unfortunately, I'm pretty certain that Henry would rebuff any attempt at mending the fences between us, so I figure I just need to keep my head down and wait for him to come to me instead. It has to happen eventually.

  "I'll do the first night shift," Bob says eventually, as he finishes his steak. "I'll start tonight at 10pm, and then one of you can relieve me at 6am. You can sort it out between you, just as long as one of you'd there to take over. Henry, I'd appreciate it if you could check the roof of the building and make sure there are no unsecured doors or windows up there. I'm starting to think we need to be prepared for attacks from all levels. Elizabeth, we'll meet down here in half an hour and do some work on the guns. There's not much you need to know, but like I said, a little respect and learning goes a long way".

  Without replying, Henry stands up, grabs his rifle and walks through to the stairwell. It's pretty clear that he's sulking, and that he hates the fact that Bob seems to be drawing me closer to his 'inner circle'. There's a part of me that's glad to see Henry taken down a peg or two, but at the same time I hate seeing my brother having such a hard time.

  "Elizabeth," Bob says after a moment, "I think we need to talk about Henry". Letting out a sigh, he grabs a half-empty bottle of whiskey and pours himself a glass. "Can I offer you a drink?"

  I shake my head.

  "Suit yourself. More for me". After taking a sip, he sighs again. "I made a mistake. I thought your brother was made of the right stuff, Elizabeth. I thought he could take orders, and I thought he could keep a cool head. Instead, he seems to have this untamed wild streak that just won't be brought under control. I hoped to get his head into the right shape, but it's becoming clearer all the time that it's just not gonna happen. To be honest, I'm starting to worry that I've maybe crea
ted a monster".

  "He's not a monster," I say.

  Shrugging, Bob gets to his feet and heads over to the door. "I'm gonna grab some water," he says, "and then we'll see about your training". With that, he walks away, and I hear his tired feet slugging up the stairwell.

  Sitting alone, feeling the weight of the gun in my hand, I try to imagine myself firing it at something. At someone. In my mind's eye, I keep replaying the moment when Henry shot the man in the car, and I try to work out whether I'd ever be able to pull the trigger in such a situation. The truth is, I feel like I could; if my life was in danger, or if the lives of other people were in danger, I feel I could do it. Maybe that makes me a cold-hearted bitch, and it's certainly not something I'd ever have predicted just a few days ago. At the same time, the rules of the world have changed dramatically. If it came down to a kill-or-be-killed situation, I think I could kill. In fact, I know I could kill.

  I'm terrified of dying.

  Looking up, I suddenly realize that I heard a noise in the distance. The hairs on the back of my neck immediately stand up as I imagine a group of intruders breaking through the door at the rear of the building. Sliding the safety switch off, I take the gun over to the door that leads through to the rear of the building. For a moment, there's nothing but silence, but then I hear the noise again: a kind of slipping, shuffling sound. Just as I'm about to turn and fetch Bob and Henry, I hear the noise again, but this time it seems to be a little clearer, and a little more distinct.

  Someone's weeping.

  It takes a moment before I realize that this must be Mallory, the girl Bob has been keeping tied up. In all the confusion that's occurred today, I completely forgot all about her.

  The weeping continues. She sounds truly miserable, as if she's lost all hope.

  Glancing over toward the lobby, I see that there's no sign of Bob. I guess he's still on his way up to his apartment. Figuring that I have the gun, so I have no reason to be scared, I force myself to ignore my fears; instead, I make my way through to the next room, and then through to the storage room where Bob and Henry have been keeping Mallory tied to a chair.