Blood Cult (23 page)

We brought the
convoy to a halt shortly before the bridge, the day darkened by palls of dark
smoke rising from Plattsburgh. Wrecked cars blocked the way beneath and I
stared at the pack of kids standing on top.

‘Looks like someone else took a different route,’ commented Shane from
the driver’s seat as he looked over to the right.

I followed his gaze and peered past the bumper of the other patrol car
that was alongside. Tracks led off the road and through the grass, heading
towards the embankment of the road that passed over the interstate.

‘There’s no way we’re going to make that,’ he commented.

I turned my attention back to the kids and then glanced over my shoulder.
‘You got a bull horn back their, Chief?’

Brody had been sitting silently in the back the whole way from Saratoga
Springs. The only time he’d made a sound was when he’d been retching at one
point, a bucket between his feet on the floor.

‘Here,’ he stated, handing it between the front seats.

I took it and opened the door, stepping out onto the asphalt. Hearing the
door on the far side open, I glanced over the roof to see Shane resting a
sighted rifle on top of the doorframe. Looking over to the other police
vehicle, I found that Wade had had the same idea, only he had a pump-action
shotgun aimed up at the bridge as his brother remained behind the wheel.

I turned the bull horn on and raised it to my lips, the machine giving
off a brief whistle. ‘Leave or die,’ I stated simply. ‘The choice is yours.’

‘Fuck you, man,’ shouted one of the youths, moving to the edge of the
bridge and giving the finger.

‘We don’t take orders from nobody anymore,’ called another, holding up a
homemade firebomb.

‘So your choice is to die?’

‘Go fuck yourself,’ yelled the leader as he raised the bottle in his hand
and went to light the rag fuse.

‘Shane?’ I turned to look across the car.

‘Not yet,’ he stated as he stared one-eyed through the sight of the
rifle.

Looking back to the kids, I saw the flame take and the leader readied himself
to throw the missile.

A single shot rang out.

There was a moment of stillness as the sharp sound echoed across the
surrounding landscape. The bottle fell from the boy’s grip. Flames erupted at
his feet and climbed his body. Screams followed as he waved his arms uselessly and
stumbled.

He fell from the edge of the bridge, the guardrail smashed away by the
vehicles they’d sent over to the highway below. He sailed through the air, a
long wail marking his descent and coming to an abrupt end as his body crashed
into the hood of one of the cars. The boy writhed for a few moments, his body
wreathed in flames and soon falling still.

A couple of the other kids lit the rags hanging from the tops of the
bottles in their hands and gunfire erupted from both sides of me as Shane and
Wade brought them down. New pools of flame sprung to life atop the bridge as
other bottles smashed, the yellow tongues spreading and consuming most of the
gang of kids gathered there.

High screaming filled the air as those who’d escaped the fire ran to the
sides, gunshots chasing them out of sight. I watched as those who were engulfed
in flames crumpled to the concrete, the sounds of their searing agony dying
away as black smoke arose from their bodies.

‘The fire trucks should be able to push those aside,’ said Shane with a
nod towards the obstruction ahead, lowering the rifle.

‘Pull in front of David so they can get through. I’ll go talk with Neil
and Clive,’ I instructed.

‘You want I should hunt out the rest of the kids once I’ve parked?’

I thought for a moment and then gave a nod. ‘You and Wade make sure they
don’t disrupt our journey again.’

Shutting the door, I walked down the side of the patrol car and
approached the fire trucks, waving up at the drivers to indicate I wanted to speak
with them and moving to stand between the vehicles. Clive opened the driver’s
window of the truck on the left as Neil moved onto the passenger seat of the
other and peered out.

I looked back over my shoulder as Shane pulled the cruiser to the side of
the road. ‘You two move on ahead and push through the blockage. Shane and Wade
will keep you out of trouble.’

They both nodded and Neil quickly moved back to the driver’s side,
shifting gear and moving off at a crawl as he scanned the bridge ahead for any sign
of the kids. I stepped over to the tailgate of David’s patrol car so that Clive
could follow, watching as Shane and Wade began to move along the side of the
highway with guns at the ready, looking to a small group of low trees and
bushes gathered beside the road just before the bridge.

Clive pulled back into the outside lane once he’d cleared David’s vehicle.
The two fire trucks made their way towards the wrecked cars side by side as
Wade pointed to the left-hand side of the bushes and raised his shotgun.

Letting off a shot, the blast tore through some of the branches. A scream
followed, he and Shane hurrying off the road and into the long grass, vanishing
from sight amidst the greenery.

The sound of scraping metal lifted into the air and I turned my attention
to the trucks as they began to push through the autos blocking the way. They
moved them aside with relative ease, the body of the gang’s leader still
smouldering on the hood of a crumpled VW.

The fire trucks pushed on through to the other side and then drew up just
beyond the bridge. I turned and waved the rest of the convoy on, those who had
turned their engines off starting their vehicles as the two lanes of traffic
converged into one in order to pass David’s patrol car, Shane not having left
him enough room to pull over.

I looked over to the trees and bushes as he appeared with Wade beside
him, three kids marching before them with hands on their heads and guns pointed
at their backs. Stepping over to the side of the highway, I waited for them,
seeing the smoke stains upon the boy’s faces, their hair greasy and hands
blackened by grime.

‘What should we do with ‘em?’ asked Wade, bringing the prisoners to a
halt before me.

‘Wait until the last of the convoy has passed and execute them,’ I stated
coldly.

The kids looked at each other in fear and then turned to me, the smell of
gasoline wafting from their grubby clothes.

‘We never meant no harm,’ said the one on the right. ‘It was all Big Ron’s
idea.’

‘Big Ron?’

He glanced back. ‘The one on the car.’

‘So it was all his fault?’

They all nodded enthusiastically.

‘You’re totally without blame?’

‘Then may God greet you at the gates of Heaven,’ I stated with a sneer,
nodding at Shane and Wade.

Their legs were kicked away from under them and they fell to their knees
as I walked past them and made my way to the patrol car, seeing the back of
Brody’s head as he remained seated inside. I heard weeping and pleading arising
from behind, the sounds soon silenced by three gunshots that rang out across
the interstate in the gloom.

I smiled and climbed into the passenger seat, leaving the door open for a
while as the smell of gas lingered.

‘Did you have to kill them?’ asked the Chief from behind my seat.

‘What else were we supposed to do?’

‘Let them go.’

‘To die a slow and painful death from radiation poisoning?’ I asked
pointedly.

Brody didn’t respond for a few moments. ‘My gums are bleeding,’ he
commented eventually, his tone dark and filled with a sense of hopelessness.

I turned to look over my shoulder.

He stared at me and bared his teeth, diluted blood visible at the gum
line. ‘What’s next?’ he asked, gaze desolate.

‘Lesions on your skin and hair loss,’ I said, my tone subdued. ‘Increased
weariness and muscle wastage.’

‘And then death once I’ve wasted away,’ he stated.

I nodded. ‘Yes. It’ll be the same for everyone.’

‘The people we were burying at the side of the road, they were the lucky
ones.’

‘Lucky?’

‘They didn’t have to suffer long. The sickness and their injuries took
them. The rest of us have to linger with the shadow of death in our eyes.’

He stared at me and I saw my reflection in his pupils. I truly was the
rider upon the pale horse.

The rear door opened on the far side and Shane reached in, leaning the
rifle so its barrel rose within easy reach between the front seats. Glancing at
us his expression became one of curiosity. ‘What are you guys talking about?’

Brody remained silent, his head bowed and shoulders hunched.

‘The journey ahead. It shouldn’t be too long until we reach the border.’

He looked at me doubtfully and then backed out, moving to the driver’s
door and getting in. ‘You want I should get back to the front?’

‘Yeah,’ I replied simply, turning from the Chief as Shane started the
engine and we set off, the last of the convoy already beyond the bridge and
continuing north.

We pulled out in front of the Changs and both cars moved through the
cleared wreckage line astern. Shane pulled over onto the side of the road by
the verge and we began to pass the tail of the convoy.

I peered past him at the faces of those in the vehicles beside us, seeing
blank expressions, gaunt and weary faces. This was no convoy on the road to a
supposed safe haven. This was a funeral column heading for the final resting
place of humanity.

We passed under
a bridge, eyes wide as we stared out of the windshield and I brought the SUV to
a stop. Hundreds of vehicles littered both sides of the highway. Many had
pulled onto the verges beside the fields that flanked the interstate. Tents
dotted the encampment and thin pillars of smoke rose into the stillness from a
scattering of campfires as people huddled around the flames or in their
vehicles.

The sound of barking drew my gaze to the right. A Rottweiler was glaring
at a white poodle peeking from the window of one of the RVs that were parked
amidst the mass of vehicles, all with their interior lights on thanks to the
dullness of the day. A number of motorcycles were also visible as I scanned the
shocking scene.

I could make out a small army unit at a junction half a mile ahead, no more
than a jeep, an armoured car and three trucks, two of which were covered and
the other with a large machinegun mounted on the rear. The tops of a couple of
green tents erected on the central reservation could be seen behind the
military vehicles. The unit was positioned before bollards and signs announcing
that the border was closed, another bridge looming behind and the golden arches
of a McDonalds visible on a column to the left of the junction beside the brown
roof of the eatery.

My gaze finally settled on a familiar pickup on the far side of the
highway and I spied the couple who had taken it nearby. They were seated about
a fire with half a dozen others, all staring at the flames, faces pale and
sickly.

‘I guess this is the end of the road,’ stated Stormy quietly, the hush
oppressive.

‘Looks that way.’

I shifted into first and pulled over behind the last vehicle on the
right, a blue sedan with bullet holes in its trunk. Turning off the engine, I
glanced at Chrissie in the mirror. She was fast asleep, a touch of yellow to
her skin and smears of fearful darkness beneath her eyes.

‘What do we do now, Mom?’ asked Jasmine.

‘There’s nothing much we can do other than wait,’ replied Stormy over her
shoulder. ‘You hungry?’

‘No.’

‘You ought to have something to keep your strength up.’

‘The way I feel, I’d yak just at the smell of food.’

‘Do you think one of us should go and talk to the soldiers to find out
what’s going on?’ I asked.

‘Feel free,’ she replied. ‘I’ll stay here with the girls.’

I looked along the road at the army unit at the far end of the
encampment, narrowing my eyes as I peered through the murk of the overcast day.
I couldn’t see any signs of activity and the thought of wandering down the road
between all the vehicles filled me with tension. I tried to reassure myself
that the military presence ensured my safety, believing that without the
soldiers the camp would have already descended into chaos or someone would have
tried to make it to the border, as they had on the eighty-nine.

‘Tell Chrissie I’ll be back soon if she wakes,’ I said, reaching for the
handle and stepping out, the day surprisingly chilly for late May, especially
after the drowsy heat within the car.

Doing up my thin waterproof and wrapping my arms about myself, I set off
along the road, keeping a wary eye on the couple across from me until I’d
passed their position. The people gathered at the sides of the highway spoke in
mumbles and whispers, all of them showing signs of the sickness that was
claiming those who had survived the initial strike.

A wind lifted and passed along the road, disturbing the smoke from the
fires, which swirled and drifted north. The smell filled my nose as I made my
way towards the small army unit, the covered trucks side on at the centre with
the armoured car to one side and the vehicle with the machinegun mounted on the
back to the other. A section of camouflage netting had been strung up between
the central trucks, the tops of the tents beyond just visible above.

‘Hold it right there,’ stated an unseen soldier when I was twenty yards
from the small camp. ‘State your business.’

I scanned the vehicles and spied a stocky soldier beyond the netting. ‘I
just want to know what’s going on. We just arrived.’

‘Nothing’s going on.’

‘What about the border?’ I asked.

‘What about it?’

‘Will it open again soon?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ he replied.

‘Can’t you tell me anything?’ I asked as my frustration grew in the face
of his awkwardness.

‘I can tell you to get back to your vehicle and stay there until
instructed otherwise.’

‘Look, I just want a little information, is all.’

‘And that’s just what I’ve given you, a little information,’ he responded
with a touch of sarcasm.

‘Where’s your commanding officer?’

‘Right here.’

I turned to the find a tall soldier stepping from between the covered
truck and armoured car on the right. He wore a cap and had a confident stride,
the hollowness of his eyes betraying his sickness as he tried to don an air of
authority.

‘How can we help you, Miss?’

‘Can you tell me anything about the border or Montreal?’

‘The border is closed and Montreal’s a no-go area.’

‘A no-go area?’ I repeated.

‘Overrun with refugees. They ran out of meds within a couple of days and food
was in short supply.’

‘Is that the latest news?’

‘The latest we have. There’s been no word since yesterday. At the rate
things were going sideways, I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re better off here.’

‘What about the border?’

‘The Canadian military closed it and, unless you fancy your chances
against a couple of tanks, it’s staying that way.’

‘Tanks?’

He nodded.

I stood in thought for a moment. ‘What about food?’

‘What about it?’

‘Do you have supplies or anything? Is the army bringing it in?’

‘As far as I know, we
are
the army.’

I looked at the meagre group of vehicles and then turned to him in
disbelief. ‘There must be more.’

He nodded. ‘There’s some scattered around, but as far as I can tell, most
of those that weren’t on base when the bombs hit have deserted, gone to their
families or gone to ground in the hope of surviving this thing. Some hope,
huh?’ He shook his head. ‘No one’s surviving this one.’

‘What about the McDonald’s?’ I asked, glancing over to the golden arches.

‘Cleaned out the first day.’

‘And water?’

He shook his head again. ‘There’s no help coming and nowhere else to go.
That’s the long and the short of it. You make do with what you have until
you’ve got nothing left.’

‘Then what?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I think we can both hazard a guess,’ he replied.
‘I hope you’ve got a weapon, because you’re going to need it before too long.’

I shook my head. ‘Have you got anything to spare?’

He laughed. ‘You’ve got a sense of humour, I’ll give you that.’

‘But surely you’re here to protect us?’

‘You think?’ he asked, his eyebrow rising once again as he regarded me.
‘We came here for the same reason as you.’

I stared at him as a sinking feeling came over me, the realisation
hitting home that there really was nothing left of the world I’d known, no
order, no structure, just an aimless struggling mass of poisoned humanity
waiting for the end to come.

‘If I were you I’d head on back to your vehicle and make peace with
whatever god you pray to before you find it’s too late.’

I nodded, the truth of what our species had been reduced to hitting me
with considerable force and making me feel dazed. Turning, I began back along
the road with ponderous steps, wanting to sink to my knees and weep.

The vague sound of a familiar guitar riff pierced my misery and I looked
along the cars on the verge seeking out its source, my brow furrowing as I listened
intently and tried to place the tune. The faint music became clearer as I
neared a white sedan and a shiver passed along my spine. It was
Don’t Fear
the Reaper
by Blue Oyster Cult.

I peered in through the windshield to find a short man in his forties looking
straight back at me, face rounded and short blonde hair receding from his
temples. I was brought to a stop by the intensity of his gaze and my heart
pounded as the tune continued to play.

He raised a pistol into plain sight and opened his mouth, taking the
barrel into its darkness. I continued to stare, unable to tear my eyes away
from him.

A single shot sounded from within the car. A spray of blood stained the
headrest of his seat as his eyes widened momentarily. I watched, transfixed as
the light of his life went out.

I stood for a few moments as people rose to their feet on both sides of
the highway, staring over, but remaining near the perceived safety of their
vehicles. My heart continued to thump with breathless strength.

Suddenly breaking from the immobility that had held me fast, I hastened
back towards Stormy’s SUV, wishing to be away from the junction, to hide away
from the nightmare that existence had become. My mind was in turmoil as I tried
to think of what we should do, knowing with certainty that we had to leave
before people started to take what others had by force.

Stormy appeared from the cars parked on the verge in front of her Range
Rover, making a beeline towards me. Her expression was tight and she glanced
nervously at the people on the opposite side of the highway as we drew near and
came to a stop before each other.

‘We’ve got to leave,’ I stated.

‘That’s exactly what I was going to say,’ she replied. ‘I’ve just been
talking to an old couple back there in the tan station wagon. Antonio told me
there’s been trouble here and the soldiers did nothing. He also said a family
were found with their throats slit only this morning and all their supplies had
been taken.’

‘I just saw someone blow their brains out.’

She looked at me in horror.

‘He was sitting his car playing
Don’t Fear the Reaper
and stuck a
gun in his mouth.’

‘Holy shit!’ she exclaimed. ‘What about the border?’

‘There’s no way through.’

‘Then we head northeast.’

‘What’s northeast?’

‘We’ve got relatives in Newfoundland or maybe we can get on a boat to
somewhere that wasn’t hit.’

‘You think anywhere escaped this?’ I asked with a glance around.

‘Africa. South America maybe. Some islands in the Pacific. Who knows? But
there’s got to be somewhere.’

‘I’m not so sure.’

‘Then where?’

I shrugged. ‘Newfoundland sounds like the best option,’ I admitted.

Stormy nodded and we began back to her car, our pace quick, the urge to
leave the encampment spurring us on. We reached the doors and were about to get
in when we went still, both turning to look south as the noise of numerous
vehicles drifted up the interstate on the stiffening breeze.

Two patrol cars came into view as they led a long convoy of vehicles
which were coming up the northbound side of the highway, fast approaching the
bridge behind us.

‘That’s them,’ said Stormy over the roof, ‘the ones I told you about
south of Saratoga Springs.’

My pulse quickened as they drew closer and the police vehicles passed
through the vague shadow of the bridge. ‘It that the priest you mentioned?’ I asked,
spying the gaunt man in the passenger seat of the far patrol car.

‘Yes.’

I watched as he passed by, a couple of fire trucks following behind.
School buses came next as the vast array of vehicles began to slow, the people
within looking worn and weary.

The convoy slowly ground to a halt beside us, blocking us in as the
police vehicles at the front stopped fifty yards shy of the army unit.

‘What do we do now?’ I asked, turning to Stormy.

‘We leave.’

‘Leave?’

‘What other choice is there?’

I glanced back over my shoulder. ‘Maybe they’ll persuade the soldiers to
let them continue north and we can follow at a safe distance.’

‘Persuade?’ She looked at me dubiously. ‘I’m not sure I want to see what
their idea of persuasion is.’

‘Let’s just give it a little time. We can have something to eat and if
they’re still here once we’re done we’ll head off. Okay?’

Stormy thought for a moment as she toyed with the piercing in her lip and
then nodded, willing to make the compromise. ‘But we’re only hanging around for
an hour or so at the most. I want to get some distance between them and us
before it gets dark.’

‘Fine,’ I replied before getting into the driver’s seat.

‘Isn’t that…?’ began Jasmine.

‘Yes,’ said Stormy in reply to her daughter’s unfinished question.

‘We should go,’ she stated with obvious nervousness.

‘We’re just having something to eat and then we’re setting off.’

I glanced in the rear-view as she finished talking and saw Chrissie
slumped in the back. Part of me hoped the preacher and his followers would find
a way through, one which we could take advantage of once they were gone. If
Chrissie didn’t get some proper medical treatment soon, she wouldn’t last much
longer.

Sighing, I turned back to stare out of the windshield at the queue of
traffic. I narrowed my eyes, trying to make out what was happening to the
front, but the school buses obscured my view.

‘Here,’ said Stormy, holding out a peach, its skin starting to wrinkle.

‘Thanks.’ I took it and held it beneath my nose for a moment, savouring
the sweet scent and my mouth watering. Taking a bite, I chewed and wondered at
the chance of anything being able to grow in the contaminated soil, my thoughts
turning to the possibility that it could be the last peach I ever tasted.