Mass Extinction Event: The Complete Third Series (Days 46 to 53) (21 page)

Elizabeth

"Dan Hodge was an old bastard," Toad says as he pushes the door open and leads me into the dark little farmhouse we've finally reached after walking for several hours. "He used to complain about the boundary lines all the time. Sometimes I'd catch him out there, measuring the fences as if he thought I was moving them during the night. I think he was worried other people were trying to take his land."

"It stinks in here," I reply as Toad carries me across the room and sets me down on an old sofa. A huge cloud of dust immediately rises into the air all around me, causing me to start coughing uncontrollably. “What happened to him anyway?”

“
He died shortly after all of this started. I came to check on him, and to see if he'd heard anything, but I found his body out front. I buried him next to the gate.”

“
Don't you have anything for the pain?” I ask, feeling a shooting pain in my knee. “I don't think I can go on like this much longer.”

"Keep it raised at all times," Toad says, placing a pillow under my right leg. "This place isn't the cleanest, and another infection is still possible. I'm going to check to see what's in the bathroom. With any luck, Hodge had some kind of medical kit. If there
are
any pills, you can have them, but don't hold your breath."

I look down at Rachel, who's squirming in my arms.

"I can take her," Toad says, reaching down and picking her up. “I'm a fast learner.”

"She probably needs a new diaper," I tell him. "You'll have to clean her as well. See if there's any powder here, but if there isn't, you'll need to make sure she's dry before you fasten her back up. In fact -" I try to haul myself up, figuring that I can at least help out, but the effort's too much and I have to ease myself back down. "I hate this," I mutter. "I hate not being able to do anything. There's no point to me!"

"It's not forever," he replies.

"Great, so my leg's gonna grow back, is it?"

“Elizabeth -”

“
That's the only way I'm ever going to be myself again,” I continue, annoyed at him for trying so hard to sound optimistic. “Unless you can find some way to magically put it back, I'm gonna be like this for the rest of my life!”

Without replying, Toad takes Rachel through to the bathroom, leaving me to look around at the room. It's starting to get dark outside, but I can just about make out a dirty-looking kitchen with a round table next to the stove, while there are a couple of sofas over on this part of the room. I guess the place has been abandoned for the best part of two months now, but it still looks like it wasn't exactly clean and tidy to begin with. Whoever this Dan Hodge guy was, I figure he lived alone and that he didn't really care too much about keeping the place looking good.

"You're in luck!" Toad calls through a few minutes later. "Guess what I've found?"

I turn and watch as he comes into the room with a pair of crutches.

"Hodge broke his leg a few years ago. I thought I remembered him getting about on these things, but I figure it was a long-shot that he'd still have them." He puts them under his arms and leans on them for a moment. “They're sturdy enough. I know they look pretty ancient, but you'll be glad of them soon enough.”

"You want me to go around on those like some kind of cripple?" I ask.

"You'd rather stay on the sofa?"

Figuring that he's right, I sit up, taking care not to bump my bandaged knee.

"Not right now," Toad continues, leaning the crutches against a nearby wall. "The risk of you falling and re-opening the wound is too great. I didn't find much else in the bathroom, so we're just gonna have to take care of your leg and hope we have a little luck for once." He steps closer and looks down at the bandage. "There doesn't seem to be too much leakage. That's a good sign. Hopefully you'll be able to get up and about in a week, just for short periods while you develop your muscles and -"

"A week?" I reply, shocked by the idea that I might be on this sofa for so long. "No way! I'm not sitting in this place for a whole week!"

"There's no other option," he continues. "It's not so bad here, Elizabeth, and I'm gonna head out soon and see what kind of food I can find. I know for a fact that there used to be wild rabbits around here, and Hodge kept chickens a little way off to the north. If they're still alive, we could have a pretty damn huge feast tonight."

It's clear that he doesn't really understand the full extent of the hell I'm going through right now, but I guess no-one could know what it's like. The pain in my knee is strong, but it's nothing compared to the pain in my mind. I swear, I can still hear the sound of the saw grinding against my bone.

"I can keep things running while you're out of action," he adds, before sitting on the edge of the sofa. "Remember when I was hurt and you looked after me? I guess I'm just repaying the favor."

"But you got better," I point out. "I'm never gonna get my leg back."

"But you'll be able to move around. You'll be active sooner than you think."

"I still wish..."

He waits for me to finish.

"I still wish you hadn't done it," I continue. "There must have been another way, or if there wasn't..."

"I couldn't just let you die," he replies. "Do you really think I could have gathered Rachel up and just walked away? Would you have been able to do that to me?"

"No, but..." I look down at my bandaged stump. The pain is intense, but it's almost begun to become part of my mind's background noise now, as if I'm getting used to it in some sick way. "It's going to get infected again," I say after a moment, "and I'm going to die, and you'll just end up stuck here. Everyone should just look out for their own needs instead of worrying about other people."

"That doesn't sound like the kind of world I want to live in," he replies.

"Tough. That's the kind of world we've got now. The days of people helping each other are over. It's every man for himself."

“What about Rachel?”

“
That's different. She's a baby. Everyone else has to sink or swim.”

He stares at me for a moment, as if he doesn't quite believe that I'm saying these things.

"It's true," I continue. "If you stop to help someone else, you're just going to end up putting yourself in more danger. That's always been the case, but this time even the smallest danger can be fatal. You're sitting here with me when you should be out there on the road, heading for somewhere safe." I pause for a few seconds, hoping that he might reply. "I don't even like you," I add eventually. "You're just someone I met by accident, and now you're the guy who cut off my leg. What do you think's gonna happen here? That we're gonna be friends? That I'm gonna suddenly think you're okay? I hate you. Every time I look at you, I think of the pain you caused me."

"That's only natural, but -"

"Can you just leave me alone?" I add, hoping to cut this conversation short. "I don't want to talk, I just want to sit here and..." My voice trails off as I realize that there's nothing I actually
want
to do. The pain is getting worse and I can still feel my right foot, even though it's gone. The last thing I need is to keep explaining myself to Toad. It's not as if he'd understand, anyway.

"There was no-one," he says suddenly.

"No-one what?" I ask.

"No-one left who I cared about." He pauses. "You asked me earlier if there was anyone I was looking for, but the truth is, there isn't. My parents aren't around, I don't have any siblings, and there was a woman I loved once, her name was Rebecca, but she died long before all of this started. She killed herself. That's when I decided to get the hell out of the city and go to my farm, but even there I couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened.”

“But...” Pausing, I realize that there's nothing I can possibly say that wouldn't sound dumb.

“
The worst part,” he continues, “is that Rebecca's death was my fault. She talked about suicide so often, I started to think she didn't really mean it. And then one day, when she tried to call me and I was busy, I didn't call her back. I was too tired to deal with any more of her drama. I had so much to do, so I figured I'd just call her back later in the day. And then eventually I just decided to wait until I got back to our apartment, but when I opened the door..."

I stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

"She'd cut her wrists," he says finally. "I don't think she even intended to die. I think she expected me to come and find her, but I didn't. I got home hours later than usual that day, and by then it was far too late. So you see, I've already left one person behind, let one person die... I'm not going to do it again, not ever. If that annoys you, then too bad." Getting to his feet, he heads toward the door, before turning back to me. "Rachel's sleeping. She should be okay. I'm gonna go and take a look at the chickens and see what else Dan Hodge might have left around the place. I'll be back in an hour or two."

Once he's gone, I find myself staring at the door, wondering why I didn't say anything to him after he explained the story about Rebecca. I guess I was just in too much shock. I could always tell there was something dark in Toad's soul, but I assumed it was just that he was missing someone who'd been lost when the crisis started. Now it's clear that he was already hurting a long time ago, and even though I still wish he'd left me behind, I can at least understand why he didn't. I wish there was something I could say that might make him feel better, but I'm not very good at this kind of thing.

Damn it, why did I have to be such a bitch to him?

Leaning back, I stare up at the ceiling. The pain in my knee is bad, but what's worse is the itch on my right foot. It's like a phantom feeling, on a limb that's gone, but the problem is I can't scratch it. It's there but it's not; it's all in my mind, like a ghost I carry around, constantly reminding me of what I've lost and can never, ever get back.

Thomas

"You're a good, strong worker," Mark says as we finish hauling the last of the logs onto the main pile, ready for them to be taken to the site at sunrise. "I can already tell you're going to be an asset to the community."

"I'm just trying to pay my way," I tell him, trying to sound calm even though I'm genuinely pleased that he's so impressed by my efforts. I've worked hard before, of course, back on my family's farm, but back then I was just being forced to help my father; now I feel as if I'm actually contributing, and it's almost as if I've become a man today. I can learn a lot from Mark, but first I need to make sure that he appreciates me.

"Hopefully the chefs will have that fish ready for us by the time we get back," he continues. "After a hard day like this, a man needs good food, and it's even better if he caught it himself."

The other loggers are already heading back through the trees, but Mark seems to be hanging back a little so he can examine the equipment, and I figure I should stick with him. The community doesn't have a leader, as such, but Mark clearly inspires the respect of all the other men here, which means that I'm naturally drawn to work with him. Having seen the mess in Chicago, I'm determined to ensure that I play my part in pushing the people here to do their absolute best.

"Are you capable of making tough decisions?" he asks eventually, as he takes his gloves off. It's getting late, and I can barely see his face, but while the tone of his question was casual, I'm convinced that he's trying to get a better idea of my character.

"Of course."

"Give me an example."

"I killed my brother," I tell him. "I mean, he was dying already, but I finished him off because I didn't want him to suffer anymore. It all happened about a month ago."

“How'd you do it?” he asks.

“
I only had a spade, so...”

My voice trails off as I find myself briefly reliving that moment.

"Sounds like a very admirable approach," Mark says after a moment. "Not a lot of men would be able to do something like that. Human attachment is a weakness these days, at least when it's applied without thought. The new world requires an entirely new perspective."

"It was the right thing to do," I explain, as we turn and make our way through the trees. "He was in agony. I'm not saying it was easy, 'cause it wasn't, but I weighed it up in my mind and I decided it was the best option. Of course, he came back a few days later after he got infected by whatever the hell that thing was, but he was strong enough in the head to break through and still be himself."

"Fascinating. I've got to admit, I still don't understand those zombie creatures. I'm just glad they're gone."

"I saw a few of them up close," I tell him. "They were just, like, rotting cadavers. Most of them, anyway. They all spoke with the same mind, like each of them knew what the others were seeing. There were so many of them, but eventually their bodies just broke down and collapsed."

"Good thing, too," Mark replies. "I can't imagine how we'd have dealt with things if we'd been overrun. We'd have been out-numbered, that's for damn certain. Sometimes, I worry that they might come back, but if -"

Before he can finish, there's a scream from up ahead, followed by another. I turn to Mark, but he's already started to run, and I quickly set off after him. Dodging between the trees and almost losing my footing several times, I eventually drop the bag of tools I've been carrying, and as soon as we get out beyond the edge of the forest I see that a crowd is starting to gather down by one of the cooking sites. Just about managing to keep pace with Mark, I race through a sea of bodies until I come to a halt and see a figure on the ground, with blood flowing freely and soaking into the grass.

"Did you get her?" a voice shouts.

"She got away!"

"Kaylee..." I whisper, as I suddenly realize that I recognize the dress being worn by the injured girl. Hurrying forward, I kneel next to her, but as I reach out to check if she's okay, I'm shocked to see that a thick chunk of flesh and bone has been gouged out of her face, right on her left cheek just a couple of inches above the corner of her mouth. Her eyes are open, staring down at the grass, and even without touching her I can already tell that she's dead.

"Jesus Christ," Mark says, standing behind me. "What the hell happened here?"

"It was that mad-woman," a voice says. "She attacked her without provocation. She just came up and took a swing at her."

"Kaylee?" I say softly, putting a hand on her shoulder and gently nudging her.

No response.

She's gone.

"What mad-woman?" Mark asks. "Who did this?"

"The woman who came with them," the voice continues. "The one who was always waving the laptop around and refusing to work. She was watching for a while, and then she came over, said something to the girl, and then she swing at her with something. I think it was one of the axes from the tool pile. Whatever it was, it only took one strike to knock a chunk of her face away."

“Was there an argument?” Mark asks.

“
No,” the voice replies. “The girl was working. It all just happened out of nowhere.”

"Kaylee?" I whisper, leaning closer to her despite the fact that her wound is wide open. I can see her meat glistening in the low evening light, and the look in her eyes is one of surprise. "Kaylee?"

"She's dead, Thomas," Mark says, reaching down and putting a hand on my shoulder. "Do you have any idea why your friend would have done this?"

"Quinn?" I pause for a moment, before getting to my feet and looking around. "She was never my friend. Where is she?" I ask, feeling a slow fist of anger starting to build in my chest. I swear to God, if I get my hands on her, I'm going to make her suffer.

"She ran that way," one of the other men says, pointing back toward the crest of the hill. "She was sobbing and ranting, but I couldn't make out a word of it."

"She wouldn't..." I pause for a moment as I try to make sense of whatever's happening. "There's no way she'd do this. She's crazy, but she's not a murderer. I mean, I don't really know her very well, but I swear, she's not the kind of person who'd just do this without good reason."

"I think we have evidence to the contrary," Mark replies, grabbing a white sheet from one of the nearby campsites and placing it over Kaylee's body. Blood immediately starts to soak through the fabric, and after a moment I have to turn and look away. My mind is almost completely blank, as if my brain has seized up.

"There was a look in her eyes," says one of the women standing nearby. "It was like she'd been possessed."

"Let's not have that kind of talk," Mark says calmly. "No-one's been possessed. Whatever happened, it was the work of..." He pauses, as if he can't find the right words. "Thomas," he continues eventually, "is there anything you can tell us that might explain why your friend Quinn -"

"She's not my friend," I say darkly. Looking down at my hands, I realize they're trembling. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

"Do you have any idea why she'd want to hurt Kaylee?"

I shake my head.

"Has she ever shown violent tendencies before?"

I shake my head again. Somehow, words seem completely inappropriate.

"We have to go and find her," says a voice nearby. "It was cold-blooded murder. There's no way we can let her get away with it."

"She has to die," says another voice. "She might come back and do it again. We're not safe while she's out there!"

"We can't ignore this," Mark says, turning to me. "You realize, don't you, that -"

"I agree," I say, my voice tense with anger and sorrow. "We have to find her and kill her."

"That's not quite what I said -"

"It's the only answer," I continue, looking back down at the sheet and seeing that one end is almost completely soaked in blood. "All she wanted was a painless death. She talked about it the other day. She said she wanted it to be quick enough that she wouldn't even know it was happening. This can't have been painless."

"She screamed," says one of the women standing nearby. "She staggered a couple of feet, clutching her face as the blood poured out, and then she collapsed. It probably took a minute, maybe a minute and a half for her to die. She was twitching for a while, almost like a fish when it's been landed. I was starting to think we should try to end her misery, but then she passed."

"She must have been in agony," I reply, still staring at the sheet as I try to work out what must have been going through her mind. For a moment, all I can think about is the last time I spoke to her, when she asked me to go for a walk with her. Maybe if I'd agreed, and come back from the forest a little sooner, she'd still be alive.

"We'll bury her properly," Mark says after a moment. "We've never had something like this happen, not since we got here, but we'll give her a proper resting place. She was one of us, even if it was only for a day, and she deserves our respect and love."

"And then we'll go and find the woman who killed her," says another voice.

"We don't have the resources to launch a witch hunt," Mark replies. "Besides, do you really think she'd come back?"

"I know where she's going," I say, turning to him. "She's following that damn signal."

“Maybe we should just let her go,” he says. “If she's on foot, she won't last too long. She'll probably just end up collapsing and dying out there.”

“
That's not good enough,” I say firmly. “I want to
know
she's dead. I want to see her suffer for what she did.”

“
We'll find her and bring her back,” Mark continues. “She'll be given a fair hearing, and witnesses will be able to testify against her. Once that's done, a vote will be taken, and if the majority choose execution, we'll put her to death.”

“
And if they don't,” I continue, “then I'll kill her myself.”