The Other Life (8 page)

Geoffrey smiled, but something in his eyes changed. “The rabies virus was particularly nasty on the west coast. The infected were prowling the street – more and more every day.
People in parts of the country that hadn’t been affected began to panic.” He paused and looked up at me like a beaten dog. “They screamed for the government to do something, but
the government hesitated. It was only when the virus had gotten totally out of control that they chose to bombard Los Angeles and San Francisco. Their inhabitants were already in bunkers, so they
couldn’t protest. The military and the government were certain that it was the only way to stop the madness. It didn’t work, though.”

“Why didn’t they broadcast a warning?”

He smiled sheepishly. “We didn’t know much about the virus and the mutation. The military was worried that the infected might be listening in. They thought they’d run for
safety before they could be destroyed.”

“The Weepers behave like beasts, but they are intelligent.
Very
intelligent, and that makes them dangerous,” Joshua explained. He rested his head against the back of the
armchair while he gazed at the ceiling.

“But if so many people died, where are their bodies? There must have been thousands of them.”

Geoffrey stared intently at the paper as he spoke. “They were burned. The military feared an epidemic. They put the bodies in a pile and burned them. The crematoriums were swamped and most
of them were closed anyway. The smell of burned flesh hung over the city for days.” He closed his eyes tightly. It took him a few minutes to compose himself.

I swallowed down my nausea. “But there must be members of the government somewhere, or military,” I said.

Geoffrey shrugged and looked away. “I’ve no idea. I’ve told you everything I know.”

His voice changed suddenly, as if he had unburdened himself. “Joshua told me that the Weepers captured your father. I hope you manage to get to him in time.” He patted my shoulder
awkwardly before he rose from the armchair and excused himself.

I watched his back as he walked out – not sure if I should hate him, or feel sorry for him. My fingers traced the bloodstains on my jeans. Dad’s blood. He was all alone, probably
unable to defend himself. Was he waiting for me to save him? Did he think I’d abandoned him? My stomach twisted with worry and guilt. I felt like I was going to throw up. This was all too
much. When I finally looked up, Joshua was leaning forward, watching me with curiosity.

I rubbed my temples. “Does Geoffrey tell his story to every newcomer?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’d have thought that’s something he’d want to keep to himself.” By God, if I’d screwed up like that, if I’d killed so many people, I’d keep my
mouth shut.

“I guess he wants to get it out of his system. Seems to weigh heavy on him. I mean it’s some really tough shit. He’d be a heartless bastard if it didn’t bother
him.”

“Do you believe him?”

Joshua hesitated. “I haven’t found anything that would prove him wrong. Why would he lie?”

Yes, why?

“Don’t you blame him for everything?”

For a moment, Joshua didn’t react. He stared up at the ceiling again, as if there lay the answer to all our problems. I’d almost given up on getting a reply when he spoke in a very
quiet voice. “When he first told me what he just told you…yes, I hated him. Hated him for all I’d lost, for all I’d seen.” He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw,
the muscles twitching beneath his tanned skin. “But then I realized that he’d lost just as much as the rest of us. More, even. And he’s tried to make up for his failure –
unlike many others.” Joshua opened his eyes and turned to look at me, a vein pulsing in his forehead. I raised my eyebrows, willing him to explain.

“His wife and children died from the rabies. He watched it happen. There was nothing he could do. Once people are infected, all you can do is watch them die or watch them turn.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “That’s horrible.”

Joshua gave a small nod. “Geoffrey never went into shelter. He tried to help the military stop the spread. I met him a few months after I’d left the bunker.” The slightest hint
of admiration lay in his tone.

“But why did so many people die? And why have some survived?”

Joshua ran a hand through his hair. “Geoffrey told me that about ten per cent of the population are immune to the rabies, maybe even less. When people began leaving the bunkers, the virus
was still highly contagious and the majority got infected. Almost all of them died. Those that didn’t die are now howling in the streets.”

“But if ten per cent are immune, why are there so few left?”

Joshua stared at the ground, clenching his hands into fists. “After a few months, the mood in the public bunkers became…irritable. People lost it over nothing. There were fights and
shootings. That’s why people in public bunkers went outside much sooner than your family. And outside they were easy prey.”

The room no longer seemed warm. “How do I know if I’m immune?”

“Geoffrey says it isn’t contagious any more – only if you get the bodily fluids of a Weeper or infected person in your bloodstream…or something like that.” He
shrugged one shoulder. “I guess I’m immune.”

“So my father might not get the virus?” I asked in a whisper.
If he’s still alive, if the Weepers haven’t eaten him.
My fingernails dug into my palms.

Joshua dropped his legs from the armrest and stood. “If he’s not bitten.”

He walked towards a cupboard and took a few boxes of bullets and several weapons from it. Five were smaller guns, one was a shotgun. He came back to the sofa and sank down beside me. After
he’d put the weapons on the table, he began loading them.

“We’ll set out tomorrow, just after sunrise. Then we should have enough time to get your family and bring them back here. After that, we’ll look for your father. The chances
are slim that he’s still alive, but we’ll try.”

The chances are slim.
The words repeated themselves in my head.

“Maybe it would be better if we began with the search for my dad.”

Joshua shook his head. “It might take hours or days to locate your father. We don’t even know if he’s still alive. We should first save those who have the best chance of
survival, and that’s the rest of your family.”

That made sense. I gulped and gave a small nod. “How…how long do the Weepers keep their…prey?”

The question felt wrong. Humans weren’t prey. An image of Dad in some dark basement waiting to be used as food wouldn’t leave my mind.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. This isn’t something you watch on the Discovery Channel, or read in a science book. I guess they keep some of them for days or even weeks. Maybe
they even stockpile for winter, but it’s too early for that.” His voice was emotionless, calm even. It made me furious.

“How can you be so relaxed about all this? Don’t you care at all?” My hands clenched into fists.

He pulled his gaze up and looked me square in the eyes. “I do care. That’s why I hunt them. But if you’ve seen what I have, then you learn to deal with the murders and
disappearances. You learn to push it aside and move on. The other life isn’t here any more. This new world has its own rules. Survival of the fittest is one of them. If you’re hoping
for kindness and pity, don’t hold your breath. I left the shelter with two dozen other people. Now, I’m the only survivor.”

So much death. The thought made me ill. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how you do it,” I admitted in a whisper.

A sad smile broke on his face. “You get used to it. You need to. It’s not a choice, it’s a necessity.”

My stomach disrupted the silence with a growl.

“Come on. We’ll get you something to eat,” Joshua said, and got up from the sofa. “I should’ve thought about that.”

I followed him out of the living room, trying to keep the weight off my injured foot. Joshua noticed and wrapped an arm around my waist. He picked me up, pressing my body against his chest. I
let out an embarrassing squeak. I leaned my head against his shoulder, wondering if he could feel the heat of my cheeks through his shirt. I could feel
his
warmth. His skin smelled of the
forest, and I had to stop myself from burying my nose in his neck. It felt strange to be this close to someone who wasn’t a member of my family.

He carried me through the hall and into a huge kitchen. At its centre was a long, wooden table that could have seated at least eight people. Joshua put me down on my feet and let go of my waist.
My skin tingled where it had been pressed against him.

I spotted apples in a bowl and froze. It had been years since I’d had an apple. I tried to remember how it tasted. Joshua followed my gaze and a grin spread across his face. He grabbed an
apple and threw it in my direction. I caught it in my outstretched hands. One side was yellow-green, the other a deep red. Reverently, I brought it to my mouth. Mmm, the scent. Like summer and
freedom and happiness.

The first bite tasted like heaven. Juicy and sweet. So good. The second bite was even better. I shut my eyes. The taste of apple – another thing to add to the list of things I’d
missed over the last 1,141 days.

1,123 days since I’d had an apple – until now.

“There are apple trees growing in the garden behind the house. Karen and Larry gather them and store them in the basement, or make sauce.”

I smiled in embarrassment, because I’d eaten the apple like a savage. Only the stem had survived my hunger.

Joshua opened the fridge and smirked at me over his shoulder. “Apples aren’t the only things that grow in the garden.” He turned around, his arms full of tomatoes and red
peppers. My stomach growled and we both laughed. This small flicker of normality, of happiness, felt so damn good. Joshua fetched a packet of spaghetti from one of the cupboards.

“Where do you get the pasta?”

He filled a pot with water and put it on the stove. “On my hunts I search houses and stores. Sometimes I find something. In the beginning it was easier. Now there’s less food, but at
least we’ve got running water.”

“Didn’t you have it before?” I asked.

“The water pipes were broken. Geoffrey and Larry built a water pump and connected it to some of the intact pipes. Most of the time it works.”

While the pasta cooked, we made a sauce with the tomatoes and peppers, then settled at the table. Joshua was a decent cook.

475 days since I’d had pasta – spaghetti with some convenience meatball sauce. Better than what came the following 474 days. Stale oatmeal, beans every way, meat out of a can.
Nothing I ever wanted to eat again. Nothing in comparison to this – not even close. This was like Grandma’s cooking, like my other life on a fork. Fresh and spicy and alive. The
pleasant sourness of tomatoes, the heat of cayenne, the light sweetness of the red peppers, with a big slick of peppery green olive oil.

That was food. I emptied my plate in mere minutes, not caring if I looked like an animal. Afterwards, I leaned back, sated and relaxed. Footsteps on the floor above reminded me of the other
inhabitants of Safe-haven. I hadn’t even thought of them. Maybe they were hungry.

“Where are the others? Shouldn’t we have asked them to eat with us?”

Joshua shook his head before he swallowed his last bite of pasta. “No, they don’t eat this late. Marie and Emma will be in their room. And Larry’s probably trying to get the
radio receiver working again.”

“And Tyler?” I asked.

His expression brightened. “Karen told you about everyone, didn’t she?”

“Well, she mentioned names, not much more,” I replied with a small shrug.

“Tyler’s likely somewhere in the vineyard, stargazing or something like that. He likes to stroll around. Some of us don’t sleep well.” He trailed off. A few strands of
his blond hair fell over his eyes.

“And you? Do you sleep well?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

He didn’t lift his head but he glanced up briefly. The look in his eyes sent shivers down my back. “No. If possible I try not to sleep at all.”

“Why?”

I could have slapped myself. He stood abruptly from his chair, almost causing it to topple over. He gathered our plates, carried them over to the sink and washed them hastily, before drying them
off. I sat unmoving on my chair and watched him. I bit my lower lip, wishing I’d just kept my mouth shut.

“It’s late and we need to set out early. I’ll show you to one of the free rooms,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen. To my surprise, he waited for me in the hall
and supported me with an arm around the shoulder, but he didn’t try to carry me. The touch felt distant – guarded. As if my words had built a wall between us.

We walked awkwardly up the stairs together and he opened a door to our right. Quiet conversation carried over to us from one of the other rooms, but I couldn’t make out what they were
saying. A man and a woman were talking. Karen and her husband?

“That’s your room.” He stepped aside so I could enter.

I took a few hesitant steps into the room before I turned to him. He was already closing the door.

“I’m sorry for being curious. It just slipped out and it’s been a while since I’ve talked to anyone apart from my family.” The words bubbled out of my mouth in a
rush. I sounded like an idiot.

Joshua shook his head without looking at me. “I just don’t like to talk about it.” He looked to the floor. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day.”

“Okay.” I shifted from one foot to the other.
God, I must look awkward.

He ran his hand through his hair. “Goodnight then.” He turned around.

“Um, Joshua?”

He glanced over his shoulder with a barely disguised grin. “Hmm?”

“I was just wondering where your room is.”

Joshua’s eyebrows shot up. He probably thought I was a stalker.

“Just in case anything happens, you know. I’m not used to being alone at night. In the bunker there was always someone around.” And Weepers couldn’t get in there. I shut
my mouth and felt my face heat even more.

He’d given up hiding his smile. “It’s across the corridor. Wake me if you need help.”