Bull Running For Girlsl (35 page)

“Look
—
look, John, I have never seen anything like this before. It will pick us off one by one, all of us dead within the next week, unless we do something about it.” The captain coughed and looked like he was going to throw up.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.

He could hardly sit up in his bed. “I have no idea how the virus got on board. All I know is that it is highly contagious…and if
we can’t
work out what is going on, we either all die on board…or we can try again to get help and risk spreading the virus.”

I stared out of the window into deep space. “If we all die and someone comes to salvage the ship, won’t this spread?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a sorry shake of his head.

It wasn’t the thought of dying that scared me. There are deaths and there are Deaths, and once in a while there comes along a Death that is oh, so special, different in so many certain and profound ways
—
and that would be mine. There are no other guardians like me, as far as I know. There would be no one there to free me from
Its
cold grasp. I didn’t know why
It
couldn’t come near me when I was alive, but when I was dead I feared that would be a different matter.

Three days before we reached our destination, more and more of the passengers succumbed to the sickness and panic began to spread. Whole families lay huddled together in corridors and in their quarters, either too sick to move or too terrified to leave for fear of contamination. Three days before
—
what?

I went to intercede for the captain. He was unconscious now, oblivious to the coming onslaught. I sat down on his bed and waited. I did not have to wait long. Through the visor in my suit I could see the entity moving closer to the captain. His death-rattle became more pronounced and the black shroud crept closer, threatening to envelope us both. This terror was final: nothing could have made me shake more as
It
tried to become more manifest. I could see the white-balled eyes fix on us both. The terrible eyes were the only thing that remained constant in
Its
shifting shape and shroud. I could smell the foulness of it, even inside the suit, as I cradled the dying man in my arms and hoped against hope that the Luminary would come in time. The captain took his last, rattling breath and I could see his body shimmer. There were only seconds remaining before his soul would leave his body and the thing would take him away.

I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness as fear filled my mind. I felt the entity try to take me as well as its prey.
I must fight it. I must
. I felt myself giving up, succumbing to the will of something that should not live, that should be dead itself. Then I felt the terror cease and I saw them
—
the Luminary surrounded us, caressed and reassured us. I saw them take the captain. The entity retreated before their incredible presence.

After the captain died and the disease became rampant I saw no reason to stay in the isolation unit. The virus was spreading too fast. After all, there was no one to bring the dying to me, so I went to them. I could not get to everyone in their last moments. Whilst attending one family, all dying at the same time, I was deserting another—but at least in my desperation I never turned to God. I didn’t know who the Luminary were, but I felt that no manmade religion could readily explain them away. They did not seem to need divine intervention to help them. They seemed like good Samaritans to me, who themselves took a risk to intercede. I believe they are the loved ones of the dead, who are drawn back from who knows where? Possibly, they are souls who have had an actual physical connection with the deceased whilst they were alive. I may be wrong. I was an orphan and spent my formative years in a home where I was careful never to get close to anyone
—
usually because they went away.

No one would be waiting for me.

I deposited the dead in an airlock and ejected them into space. Their marbled faces a parody of the beautiful Greek statues that were still to be found in the museums on Earth. I hoped that the virus would die with them. I felt defeated when Lorne died. His body was dumped into space and floated slowly away with a look of terror fixed firmly on his face. The Luminary hadn’t come to him in time and I hadn’t been there for him either.
It
had interceded.

The last day before the ship reached our destination, I attended the death of the only other person left alive on board. Lorne had died two days earlier and his little girl now lay in my arms, with her marble–veined hands trying to find someway through my isolation suit to get to me. It was at that point I gave up. Who was I kidding? No one would come board the ship so long as there was anyone else alive. Even the salvage crews had left us alone. I took off my gloves and held her little hands in mine. I may have been tired—but there was no way
It
was going to get at her. There was no sign of the entity. It was not long before the Luminary came to take her away. Amongst them was Darla, for it was her little daughter, Celina, who had just died.

Soon it would be my turn. I was the last man standing. I felt what it was like to be truly alone. Althea was only a day away but I might as well have been on the other side of the universe. I started to cough and tasted blood in my mouth. I looked down at my hands and saw that they had taken on a blue-white hue and felt myself weakening. I could make out the dark shape of the entity starting to form. There would be no Luminary for me, to light my way to some other world. I had been alone in life and I would be alone in death, except for
It…
that waited, biding its time now for my life to slip away. At least Celina was safe.

My breathing became more laboured and my dying breath was upon me. It left in three long, drawn-out gasps and gently I set myself free of my earthly body, and faced my nemesis. Too weak after this rebirth to move; I felt as thin as air and helpless to do anything as
It
came closer. The impenetrable blackness crept forwards towards me.
It
hesitated as a great, new light began to fill the room. I felt some of my energy return and I managed to drift round towards the light.

It was such a beautiful sight, for there before me was every soul I had ever saved, old and young alike. Amongst the hundreds I could see those of Darla and little Celina. It was Celina who then held out her tiny hands to me.

Author note: This story was written for my mother shortly after her death. I read “The Isle of Innisfree” by Yeats, at her funeral. 13
th
May 2005.