The Reaper Virus (Novella): Sarcophagus (5 page)

Chapter Nine

Lunch
came in the form of pre-made sandwich wraps with turkey, ham and American
cheese. The replenishment and balancing of blood sugars brought everyone in the
bus to a more even level. Many chatted with each other like this was a mild
setback in an otherwise worthy investment. Others stretched their legs or got
up to use the bathroom facility in the rear. A few rows offered to swap seats
with their neighbors across the isle to check out the side of the bus they
hadn’t yet been privy during the trip.

The
majority of the socialization took place in the rows behind theirs; Jessica was
thankful for that. She wasn’t the type to hang around after a church service to
exchange pleasantries with people she only saw on Sunday mornings. Being
antisocial was a character flaw that she knew needed work, however, this wasn’t
the time. “
If we make it to the retreat
site in one piece,
” she thought, “
then
I’ll play nice
.”

Ava
thoroughly enjoyed her simple lunch, proudly finishing every bite. Ten minutes
after returning to her storybook, she fell sound asleep. Jessica shifted her so
she could curl up using her lap as a pillow. Gently stroking her sleeping
daughter’s hair, Jessica envied the ability to turn everything off in favor of
a nap.

Frank
muttered something to Paul. Instantly the appointed puppet leader rose to his
side. Frank stood with a big stretch, stepped to the side and allowed Paul to hold
the driver’s seat. Grinning ear to ear he said, “
take
your time, Frank. I’ll hold your spot!”

He
scoffed in response, “cool your jets, Mr. President; I’m just taking a pee
break. We
ain’t
going anywhere - no point in holding
it until my back teeth are
swimmin
’.” Paul laughed
uncomfortably as Frank willed his stiff legs into movement towards the
facilities.

She’d
never seen a bus driver take a bathroom break in the middle of a trip before.
Before this morning she hadn’t been on a charter bus for more than a couple
hours, so there wasn’t much room for comparison. He sauntered past noticing Ava
curled in Jessica’s lap. “The little one feeling alright?” Frank asked.

“Nap
time,” she whispered so softly that he could only read her lips mouthing the words.

The bus
driver smirked. “
Ain’t
she the lucky one,” he replied
while stepping
passed.
She heard him dismiss other
attempts at conversation from the rows toward the rear. “Not coming back to
chat,” he’d say, “just using the little boys room.” At least five times a
concerned voice she couldn’t distinguish would say something to him then Frank
offered a stock response from a short list of options. He spent ten minutes in
the bathroom then made a more hastily walk back to the helm. It may have been
sweat, or even her imagination, but Jessica swore she saw the shimmer of a
missed tear on the old man’s cheek when he passed.

An hour
passed with them confined to their seats. Then someone loudly observed activity
outside the bus. Heeding to fear and boredom fueled curiosity, they shot to the
windows. All but Jessica’s row moved to see as if an order was just barked
commanding them to do so.

“Is it
the zombies?” A woman cried.

“Why are
you using that foul word?” snipped a nearby man’s voice. “They are sick. You
don’t need to call them monsters.”

“No they
ain’t
sick,” said someone at the back, “people are getting
out of their cars!”

Volume
elevated in the cabin as people went back and forth about what was happening.
Ava stirred, rising with creased lines on her face from the uneven pillow that
was her mother’s lap. She looked to Jessica showing fright and confusion about
the rude awakening. Cutting
nap time
short was a
volatile risk for the five year old; the unnecessary bothering only enhanced
the short fuse Jessica had developed for this group’s average mentality.
Jessica shushed her with soft reassurances that everything was fine. One hand
rubbed the
groggy
little one’s shoulders while the
possibility of danger outside caused the other one to instinctively search the
bag under her seat for the revolver.

Before
she could find the weapon or even stand to share her displeasure with the rest
of the passengers, Paul centered himself in the aisle waving his arms for
attention. Voices simmered enough for him to be heard, “everyone, please! It’s
alright
so let’s all calm down for a second. Looks to me
like people in the cars around us are
gettin
’ out to
stretch their legs. And, really though, can you blame them?” A few chuckles
filled his planned pause. “How about this… ya’ll stay here where it’s safe.
I’ll pop out to see if things look good enough out there for us to follow their
lead. So long as traffic doesn’t start moving ahead and we all stay near the
bus, I don’t think it would hurt for us to get some air. Does that sound fair?”

Murmurs
of approval answered. He nodded, appearing satisfied, then had an immediate
look of doubt for what he’d just volunteered himself to do. His shoulders rose
up and down slowly with calming breaths before walking towards the door. Frank
held out a tire iron shaped like a plus symbol for him to take. A rush of cool
outside air flooded the cabin as he pulled the door open. Paul turned to the
group again before heading down the steps. The fierce front he attempted to
show was so flimsy that his uncertainty visibly materialized through the
quivering in his lower lip.

Squeals
emanated from door hinges as the old man worked the handle to pull them closed.
Air pressure equalized again ushering in an unnatural quiet. Not a single sound
was made during the minutes Paul spent off the bus. The glass filled with
curious faces desperate to see if their boredom-enhanced fears were misplaced.
“He’s coming back!” a voice from the second row proclaimed. Another squeal of
the door and a wave of air came followed by Paul’s reentry.

“Everything
looks good out there so we’re safe to get out,” he announced, instantly
stirring the crowd. “Hey now! Listen up! We’re safe... yet we still need ground
rules. I couldn’t see what’s caused this nasty backup but that don’t mean the
authorities
ain’t
workin
’ to clear things up. Nobody wants to end up lost or
left on the bridge if traffic suddenly decides to move. If any of you have
ideas then raise your hand and we’ll work this out like the loving congregation
we are...” his voice grew timid. Sadness returned to his face for a moment
before he continued,
 
“Pastor Doug
would have wanted us keep that love going. Let’s make this work for his sake.
So here’s what I think the rules should be….”

They’d
underestimated Paul. He had taken the reigns of appointed leadership with
unexpected ambition for a man previously broken down by worry. Through his surprisingly
effective guidance, they hashed out ‘rules’ for exiting the relative safety of
the bus. Confinement in a traffic jam served as ample motivation for
suggestions from members of the congregation that had been quiet thus far.
Jessica wondered if such excessive debate was required for the other people
walking about the bridge to exit their vehicles. All pessimism aside, she knew
that they were the largest group in the area so structure needed to be in
place.

First and
foremost, no one was
required
to
leave. In a short time from that morning, their lives had drastically changed.
Doom had crept up on every human being through the pandemic. Denial can prove
more lethal than any virus. The bus crash was a point of critical mass for
those that refused to acknowledge the dangers of the R33PR Virus. Before that
point easily half the people on the second bus would have jumped at a chance to
get out. Then the gravity of the virus and the loss of half their group melted
away any remaining stubborn ignorance. Not all of them would be so eager to
leave the safety of their seat now that the opportunity was presented and they
wouldn’t be pushed to do so.

Secondly,
time away from the bus was to be limited. Wandering away from the group could
prove catastrophic. The hopeful outcome was for traffic to start moving again;
if it did then they wouldn’t be able to wait for stragglers. They couldn’t see
any of the afflicted on the roadway but that didn’t mean there wasn’t an
ever-present danger of them discovering this bumper-to-bumper buffet. Shelter
within the bus needed to be minutes away at all times. Everyone agreed to
fifteen-minute check-in increments with Paul, who volunteered his services
guarding the door.

Lastly,
the buddy system was declared a must. Frank surprised the group by speaking
over Paul, breaking his self-imposed silence. He had a stern look as he
announced, “no one leaves alone. This is no place to venture out by yourself.”
A hollowed tone overtook his voice, “this is
my
bus,
don’t
ya’ll forget that. If you
leave the bus without someone to watch your back, then consider it goodbye
because I
ain’t
letting you on again.” Then he cut
the engine as if to emphasize the control he possessed. Really the man feared
having enough gas to reach their destination if the wheels were ever allowed to
turn again.

Chapter Ten

They were
celebrities on the bridge. Any car stuck in the gridlock over the river was
close enough to witness some degree of the first bus’s downfall. Seeing as the
two oversized motor coaches were identical in appearance and travelled as a
pair, it was logical to assume they were associated. When the first group of
retreat members exited they were greeted by a converging mass of concerned
motorists.

Questions
bombarded them from all sides. Once their connection with the crashed bus was
confirmed, kindness replaced the questioning. The other people on the bridge
put their own worries aside to try for at least a few minutes in order to
comfort the few retreat members before them. Jessica watched from the window
trying to determine exactly what was going on. It was encouraging to see such
an outpouring of support from total strangers in a time of universal burden.

“I think
the people out there are nice, Mommy,” Ava innocently commented. “Can we go out
together now? I’ll be your buddy.”

Jessica
kissed her on the nose then answered, “you’re such a sweet little thing. We’ll
go out soon. Let’s just give it a little while to cool down before we stretch
our legs. And there isn’t anyone else in the world I’d want as my buddy more
than you.”

An hour
passed. Pairs of retreat members came and went. The doors had been opened
enough that the temperature inside the cabin dropped a few degrees. Finally,
after a mandatory trip to the tiny bathroom on the back of the bus, Jessica
agreed to let the two of them out. Ava walked in front of her in the center
aisle bouncing excitedly at the unusual chance to walk on a bridge. She
gleefully asked over her shoulder, “can I look over the edge? I want to look
for alligators or sharks.”

The
imaginative aspirations of her daughter were a welcomed distraction. Jessica
slowed her with a hand on the shoulder, “alligators and sharks don’t live here!
This is Richmond, you funny little girl. Also it’s cold outside. So zip up your
coat and hold my hand. If you let go of my hand while we’re out there, for even
a second, we will go back to our seat. Are we clear?”

“Yes
mommy.”

She
tightened her grip ever so slightly. “I mean it, Ava. This isn’t a normal field
trip. It’s just you and me, babe. You do not leave my sight.”

“Oh -
kay
!” Ava said, channeling the attitude of a teenager a
decade too soon.

Frank
waited until they were both at the threshold before pulling the door open. A
rush of brisk air hit her in the chest like a punch. “Looks like you got the
right buddy at your side, ma’am.”

Ava spun
to him, “I’m going to protect her but first we’re checking the river for sharks
and alligators.”

Everyone
sitting in the first five rows laughed after hearing her proclamation. Frank
smiled, “it’s a tough job but someone’s
gotta
do it.
I’m glad it’s you, little lady.”

Most of
the
well-wishers
had dispersed by the time the mother
and daughter exited the metal behemoth. Jessica carefully scanned the
surroundings as Ava pulled her arm towards the concrete wall. The northbound
lanes were fairly empty; no one dared take the path into the dying city. If the
two directions weren’t isolated from each other on the passage over the water
then southbound cars would have found their way over there to bypass this
parking lot. Sporadic flashes of yellow from hazard lights showed all around
the bridge. They were easy to spot in the gloomy light of the cloudy afternoon.

Random
groups gathered near cars. She recognized several retreat members fraternizing
with those that swarmed to comfort them. Not all were so quick to socialize;
multiple cars were sealed with occupants inside trying to ignore anyone passing
by. Jessica imagined theirs would have been one of those cars if they’d driven
separately. Making new friends, hearing the stories of others and discussing
rumors about the state of societal decay; it all seemed like an enormous waste
of time to her. All she wanted to do was escape the city, then never look back.

Ava
guided her through the three-foot space between parked cars in the lane next to
theirs then passed the half-car length separating a pickup truck and a Prius in
the final outside lane. Dotted along the bridge shoulder were several people
leaning against the concrete wall that separated the road from the steep drop
to the turbulent waters below. The closest talking groups were fifteen feet
from their place on either side. It was close enough for their conversations to
pause upon seeing the mother/daughter duo. Jessica gave an acknowledging nod to
each group. She knew that through their smiles were thoughts of pity for a
child stuck in such a place.

The wall
was the same height as a regular Jersey barrier only it had a wide metal rail
affixed three quarters of a foot above the top. Even on her tiptoes, Ava
couldn’t see over the steel tube so instead she squeezed her little head
through the gap. Jessica continued to assess the state of the gridlock while
clamped onto a loop on the back of her daughter’s coat, making sure her feet
remained planted. Sharing her amazement, Ava said, “the water is so far down!
It’s really pretty that way. Look Mommy, a train!”

Jessica
looked up river, away from the city, where the little girl directed. On the
northern bank a long segmented chain of black coal cars snaked parallel to the
river. It amazingly accompanied the wide rapids with what seemed like no end.
Ava was right; it was quite a pretty sight to behold. Smoothed rocks emerged
from the water in random clusters while mostly barren trees hugged the water’s edge
as far as she could see. It was beautifully refreshing to see after witnessing
the carnage in the scenery to this point.

Forgetting
the mess of obstructions to her view, she curiously turned to check if the coal
train continued on the other side of the bridge. Past the rolling hills of
vehicle roofs she saw the massive railroad bridge. Beyond it, smoke billowed up
from random spots on the Richmond-facing horizon. Seeing this brought her back
to reality. The contrast between the sides was like standing before a raging
wild fire, a calm before the inevitable consumption of beauty.

“Alright,”
Jessica said to the girl pressed against the cold wall, “time to get back to
our seat. If you’re good we can come back out before the sun goes down.” She
pulled on the loop to emphasize her command.

“But
Mom-my!” She whined back.

“But
nothing, Ava! The last thing we need is you catching a cold from the chilly air
coming off the river. We’ve stretched our legs, now it’s time to get back to
where it’s safe.” The nearest group turned towards them after the minor
outburst. Jessica felt so embarrassed.

Ava
furrowed her brow in confusion, “but I thought we
were
safe?”

Jessica
looked around seeing more eyes on them. A small gathering of people that were
setting up a camping stove in preparation for the dinner hour all paused to
watch them. Lowering her voice she answered, “we are, hon.
That
’s
not what I was trying to say. It’s just that we can be safe and still have you
get sick. I don’t want that because it would make our trip much less fun. You
get one
more minute
looking at the water. One minute
then we’re back in the bus. Okay?”