Toxic (13 page)

She stopped in front of a clothing store. Her torn up pants and mud-encrusted t-shirt had suffered through repeated ordeals.

“You want to...” the colonel started, noting her envious stare.

“I don't know. I would feel like I'm stealing something.”

“Who cares right now?”

He was right
, she thought.

“I'll hurry.”

“My ex-wife said that too. I'm going to explore our surroundings; don't take too long.”

A few streets further down, the trio walked the length of a shopping center. They stopped in front of a sign at Alva's request. Bruce looked at the window suspiciously. “A pharmacy? I thought we were looking for things to eat.”

Without paying attention to his remark, the singer pushed open the door. After a visual scan, she went towards the back and started to inspect the shelves meticulously. Dewei sat down on one of the benches at the entrance. The square, bordered by pitiful-looking sofas and strewn with pill bottles and shards of glass, had lost its friendly charm.

“What the hell are we doing here?” the young man protested.

“Why don't you help me find bandages and compresses instead of complaining? If someone gets hurt, we're not going to watch them lose all their blood.”

“Ok... sure.”

Alva's face emerged in a display with a partially destroyed sign boasting the benefits of a molecule against high blood pressure.

“What's your problem?”

He crossed his arms against his chest. “I know what you're looking for.”

She disappeared behind the advertisement panel and continued to ruffle through each shelf.
She was looking for a fix
, he told himself. Frankly, Hector hadn’t denied that he was transporting drugs. Once an addict, always an addict, or so the saying went.

He walked up to the end of the row of empty cabinets.

“This isn't a solution.”

When the artist reappeared, the bag that she was holding looked be half-filled with various bottles. Bruce wanted to take it, but Alva intervened. “Mind your own business.”

“How are you going to explain this to the others?”

“There's nothing to explain.”

The face of the singer beaded with sweat. He looked at her for a moment before turning around. He stopped abruptly upon discovering that the bench at the entrance was empty.

“Where's Dewei?”

Nothing was quite like the feeling of being clean. Elaine smiled in front of the cracked mirror which showed her broken reflection. The black tank top and hiking shorts she found in the boutique’s back storage room looked great on her. She had lost weight for the first time since... she couldn't remember. Once she was outside, Masters approved her clothing choices, arguing for the need to move with ease. She had stuffed several similar outfits into a backpack.

“I've got a plan,” he declared, shaking a used pamphlet. “I think I've spotted a gas station and a shopping mall two hundred meters from here.”

“Perfect, let's go!”

On the way, the colonel showed himself to be talkative about the group. “We made the right decision. I didn’t trust Hector at all. Drug traffickers are parasites.”

She allowed herself a neutral “hmm” as a response. These judgments would have been better in the previous world, not this one.

“Did you see how he checks Alva out? A drug addict... what's he thinking?”

“We don't have proof that he's transporting drugs. In any case, that's no longer any of our business because we're going to test our luck on the highway.”

The last phrase, pronounced without a lot of conviction, caught the attention of the marine, who turned around. “You seem like you don't like the idea.”

“On land, we're exposed. Cars move quicker, but use gas. Gas is getting rare,” she argued. “On top of its diesel fuel, the semi-sub uses solar energy and can dive.”

“You prefer drifting around haphazardly with a dealer?”

“That's not what I meant to say.”

Elaine didn’t' insist.

The soldier had gotten back the upper hand after holding in his impatience following their departure from Key West and swallowing some lies. She had stolen his 45 on the warehouse roof. Consciously or not, he kept the insult in his memory and maybe he considered her an eventual unmanageable element. She pursed her lips upon remembering verbal attacks from her manager who, on an angry day, had called her that.

After walking for a few minutes, they stopped in the middle of the street. The wobbly signs said
out of gas
. Masters slithered between the abandoned 4x4s and under the rusty structure, testing each of the pumps.

“I saw some trucks in the parking lots beside us. You could siphon the tanks. You never know,” Elaine proposed. A little naively.

“Biofuels and fuels last for a long time when kept away from air. If these cars have any, it's gone bad from oxidization.”

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and leaned against the flaky hood of a convertible. The majority of these cars had hybrid motors which still needed fossil energy. Without fuel, they wouldn't be going anywhere. Masters came back to her, his hands on his hips.

“An old pick-up. There's nothing better for long distances.”

Her father couldn't have said it better
, she thought.

“Yeah, except there aren't any.”

“Marinas have gas stations. They stock gas-oil for yachts. With a bit of luck, there may be some left. The catch is we have to walk. The closest one is a kilometer away.”

The adventure wasn't at all tempting to her. The situation had gotten worse since their decision to leave Hector's boat. She didn't feel safe at all.

“We’ll have to go there together.”

“We’ll go faster just the two of us,” Masters countered.

She didn't like the idea.

He insisted. “And then, even if we take too long getting back to them, they’ll wait. The area seems to be safe.”

At the moment when she was getting ready to object, she froze, her mouth open. The colonel raised his eyebrows. “A problem?”

She walked forward a few steps, obstructed by the sun, then put her hand to her forehead like a visor. “There's someone there.”

Masters took his 45 out of its leather holster.

Bruce came out of the drugstore, annoyed and trying to guess the direction Dewei would have taken. If they lost the boy, the nurse wouldn't forgive them for it. He went to the right and after around twenty meters, he heard Alva howl at him to wait. She hurried to his side. He threw a nasty glance at the bag that she was holding with a tight fist.

“He couldn't have gone far,” she declared.

What did she know about it? She didn't care about anything except her drugs a moment ago
. He held off from letting his thoughts be known, preferring to concentrate his energy on the search for the Asian.

“Elaine said that he goes through some type of crises. Maybe he's hiding somewhere.”

The idea seemed ridiculous to him, but in some ways, not so much. The large number of stores made up enough hiding places. Bruce sighed. They would have to visit them one by one. “No choice,” he explained to his unmotivated companion.

All over the place, they discovered a spectacle of broken windows and merchandise spread around dusty floors, carpets torn away. The neighborhood hadn't suffered from looting as badly as some others, but rather from the slow agony of the elements. A blanket of ruins was enveloping human civilization bit by bit, just like furniture covered up by colorless sheets after a house has been abandoned for a long time. The absence carried the risk of becoming eternal. The planet’s owners might not return among the dead.

On the sidewalk in front of them, they explored the inside of a food store. At least they filled the second bag with canned food. Bruce decided to get down to the harvest. He undertook a methodical inspection of the aisles. Alva helped him choose the non-perishable goods. The singer was being friendly. He noticed that she had left her treasure close, within arm’s reach.

All of a sudden, she shook his sleeve and pointed to the entrance with a movement of her head. Bruce made out a shadow that moved along the cracked window and stopped on the patched carpet.

“Dewei?”

A finger on her lips, Alva whispered, “I don't think so.”

An electric shock ran down Bruce's spine. Both of them got down.

The grunting that they heard put an end to their doubts and aroused their worst fears. The fleshless creature entered the supermarket. Most of the time, the infected moved around in groups, always active and ready to gnaw on a morsel of fresh meat. This innate behavior was typical of other animal species. Hidden by the cereal boxes, they watched it go along the aisles with a broken step. Beyond the windows, they saw other threatening shadows. Bruce clenched his jaw. Alva put on a sinister face, her tanned complexion going white. A horde. The L-Ds were arriving in numbers.

If Dewei had crossed path with them, it was too late for him. Now, they needed to make good decisions: ones that would allow them to live. In the first place, getting out of the store, he decided. Bruce pointed at a service door at the far end of the aisle. Alva nodded.

On all fours, they managed to reach the exit with its two swinging doors. The grinding immediately attracted the creature’s attention. In less than a second, it started to move in the direction of the source of the noise.

“Quick! They've spotted us!”

Already, two of the infected had reached the entrance. The survivors ran towards the narrow staircase. The door creaked once again when they reached the next floor. Bruce adjusted his backpack's straps. In the hurry, Alva realized that she had forgotten her precious cargo.

“Fuck!”

Bruce grabbed her by the shoulders. “You're not going back down there.”

Not looking him in the eye, her skin revealed an understandable state of panic. Was it due to fear or cravings?

“We’ll need that medicine.”

“No. We can do without. You too.”

“You son of a... You know what? Eh? The planet is breathing death and you're pulling this shit on me?”

She broke free and stayed still.
At least she isn't going to try to recover the bag
, he told himself. At the foot of the stairs, he looked at the disfigured features that were moving, arms outstretched, towards him.
The creatures won't be able to climb
, he thought on the spot. Then, he took it back: one of them tried crawling with the help of its hands.

“God dammit!”

He grabbed Alva and convinced her to get on the roof.

Elaine walked with muffled steps in the direction of a truck with a faded body. At her heels, Masters followed, his gun's barrel lowered.

“What did you see?”

All of a sudden, she stopped on the spot and got down. Her head leaned towards the asphalt. She made out the sound of feet wearing sandals. Nothing allowed her to attribute them to one group of humanity or the other. They stayed still. They belonged to either a healthy individual or an infected one.
Whichever they are
, Elaine thought,
this encounter will have its consequences
. Her heart seized up in her chest. She felt Masters’ breath at her side.

“It sounds like a child.”

“Or an infected person.”

The colonel got up. “They're going to spot us right away.”

The footsteps disappeared. When Elaine stood up once again, the shadow ran off at once. Instinctively, Masters pointed his gun at it.

“Don't shoot!”

The nurse immediately ran after it, without reflecting or listening to Master's warning to wait. She went after the blond hair which zigzagged between the cars. The girl, around twelve by her estimates, crossed the street and hid in the bushes.

“We won't do you any harm!” Elaine yelled, crossing after her.

She entered the underbrush which had gone back to its wild state. The branches whipped her arms, which she used as shields to protect her face. The colonel's authoritative voice reached her: “Elaine, come back!”

She wasn't going to obey that order.

The forest of trees and tall grass got thicker, but that didn't stop her from following. A few steps later, she emerged suddenly, in front of a dilapidated house. She took a quick break, exhausted by the effort, hands on her knees. The girl took advantage of it to gain more of a lead and crossed the frame of a porch with its roof ripped open and its door missing. All reluctance swept away in a fraction of a second, Elaine went in an instant later. At first, she didn't realize where she was or the original purpose of the building. The half-destroyed counter caused her not to notice. Reaching the lower level, she discovered a row of empty cages with troughs. At the end of the hallway, the girl, standing with her arms spread open, had her back to the last occupied cage of the animal shelter.

“Don't do him any harm,” she begged.

Elaine stopped, overcome with surprise. Behind the stained dress and juvenile face defiled with dirt, she made out erratic movements. The characteristic grunts confirmed her fears as to the sole pensioner.

“He's my dad. I'm begging you; don't kill him,” the girl said again.

Masters came hurtling down the stairs. He took several steps to the side. Looking determined with his hands gripping the butt of his 45, he clearly showed that he was planning to shoot as soon as the creature entered into his line of view.

“Get away from there,” he ordered the girl.

She refused to yield.

Even though she agreed with the principle of killing the infected, Elaine hesitated.

“Wait, colonel. Please.”

“We can't let that thing live.”

To support his words, he walked by her without lowering his gun.

“We're not at risk. He's locked up, behind the bars.”

The marine advanced, step by step. He didn't listen. This time, Elaine got between them before he committed a tragic error.

“Masters! You're pointing that gun at her dad. You surely don't want to kill him?”

Under his nose, the barrel shook.

Bruce helped Alva extract herself from the hatch which opened onto the roof. For lack of a ladder, they had assembled furniture from the surrounding rooms. With the tables, once collected together, and the chairs piled on top, they had managed to climb to reach the hatch, though not easily, because of the instability of their improvised structure. The feat achieved, distant grunts welcomed them during their efforts. Leaning on the low wall that encircled the edge, Bruce cast a dark look. A wave of L-Ds was overrunning the streets. Dozens and even hundreds of creatures unfurled in an inhuman wave. This reminded him of the horrors at Key West. The images festered in his thoughts: the story was repeating itself without them being able to have an influence on the events in any way. Each time they met a horde, fleeing represented the only healthy option. Clearing out meant living until next time.