The Dying of the Light: Interval (15 page)

A pained expression crossed the old man’s face. “Again, I am sorry. Would that I could bring him back to her, but alas, I cannot. I am Liam, head of the Believers.”

“Major Bill Shaw, US Air Force.”

“We welcome you to the Sanctuary, Major. You and your flock.”

Shaw couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Uh, thanks, I guess. How many of you ‘Believers’ are there?”

Liam frowned. “Only twenty of our number remain, sadly. The rest have fallen to the Darkness.”

“The Darkness? You mean, the walkers?”

“If that is what you call them, then yes. But the darkness grows even in ourselves, and must be purged.”

“The darkness grows… you mean some of you are infected?”

“It is not for me to say how the Darkness works, but I am here to welcome you to join our group in the Sanctuary.”

“Are there any more… uh, darkness… around here?”

“Only in the restrooms, there. The purged ones were sent into that place.”

Shaw fumed. “Yeah, we found them. They’re dead.”

Liam bowed his head once more, praying again. Shaw had lost his patience, though. “Where are the rest of the Believers?”

“In the main Sanctuary. If you’ll follow me…”

“Wait here. I’ll talk it over with my ‘flock.’”

“As you wish.”

Shaw backed up, then turned to Evans. “He moves this way, give him a warning shot, then shoot him if he keeps coming.” Evans nodded, and Shaw went into the breakroom and found Arturo, who was somewhat less than sanguine about joining the group that had caused them so many problems already.

“They have caused the death of your Mr. Fraser, Major. Why would you join them?”

“I think they’ve been here for quite some time, so they’ll know the layout, what’s around here, where it’s safe, etc. Besides, a bigger group is safer than a smaller one, and gives us more options.”

“I fear these options you insist on having may prove our downfall. But very well, if you think it best, I will agree.”

“Good,” said Shaw, turning to face the room. “Everyone, prepare to move out. We’re going to be joining the others in the main terminal.” There were some raised voices, but Arturo calmed them with some hushed and quiet conversations. When Shaw moved back out into the hall, everyone was ready. “OK, Evans, you’re right flank, Keith, you’re left. Both of you keep an eye on the rear, and I’ll take point. Stay close, keep it tight, and we’ll make it. Any questions?”

There were none, and Shaw approached Liam. “Well, Mr. Liam, we’re ready to go with you.”

The old man brightened considerably. “This way.”

The large group made their way down the terminal, spears of light from cracks and spaces in the boards covering the windows shed just enough light to see by, with the aid of their flashlights. Shaw and his men kept their eyes open, but as Liam had said, there were no walkers on their way.

Shaw spotted Liam’s lookouts quickly as they approached the main terminal, noting that they had no weapons. Filthy, clothed in rags, they even appeared to have fleas, judging from the scratching they were doing.
How can people live like this?

The light brightened as they neared their destination, and Shaw felt better as they entered the main terminal room, with its second-story windows unboarded and shining bright with the noon sun. It felt like years since he’d seen it, even though it had only been a few hours. He ordered Evans to make their camp, such as it was, against one side, on an unused and relatively clean section of the second level. He took the opportunity to look out the windows, noting the few walkers still on the ground. He couldn’t see his own plane from this angle, but the devastation that had plagued so much of the world was clearly evident in the city of Christchurch, seen through the big window panes. There were no tall buildings in sight, and the few that were close enough for him to get some detail were burnt and blackened.

“You’re just in time for our noon meal,” said Liam.

Shaw jumped, surprised.
He’s a quiet one, this Liam
, he thought.
Then again, he probably had to be to survive the walkers for this long
.

“Thanks, but I’ll stick to our field rations,” he said. He noticed Believers moving amongst the men and women of his group with bowls of steaming soup, and the volunteers accepting, some a bit more hesitantly than others. Still, a hot meal beat rations any day. He moved closer and said, loudly, “Everyone, please. We should really be eating our rations, rather than taking what little food these folks have left.”

Though Keith and Evans weren’t eating any of the provided soup, the volunteers didn’t agree with Shaw. Arturo was slurping from his bowl, and smiled up at Shaw. “Nonsense, Major. We’re going to be here for some time, it seems only fitting that we accept their hospitality. Perhaps we can share our rations later, or even work together to get the food from the plane.”

Shaw shook his head and sighed.
Civilians.
He motioned Evans and Keith over to him. “Excuse me, Liam,” he said to the older man. “I have some matters to discuss with my men. I’ll return shortly.”

“As you wish, Major,” Liam said, moving away to tend to his flock.

Shaw led his men to one side, insuring they wouldn’t be overheard. “I don’t like this,” he said.

Evans looked around. “What? These people?”

“Yes. First they’re shooting at us, now they’re feeding us… something’s rotten in Denmark.”

Keith nodded. “I don’t like it, either, but what can we do?”

“Have a discreet look around. Keep your pistols handy, just in case, but don’t cause a ruckus if you can avoid it.”

“Yes, sir,” they said, and moved off, casually wandering around. Shaw noticed the Believers bringing the soup out of what he presumed was the kitchen on the first floor and moved towards the stairs.
Time to see what’s cookin.’

He made a show of inspecting the boards on the windows and doors, trying to keep a count of the Believers he could see. He noticed Keith and Evans moving among the Believers and the volunteers, occasionally chatting with them, sharing a story or a laugh. When he was pretty sure all the Believers were in sight, and everyone was looking the other way, he slipped into the kitchen.

It was dim, lit only by candle-light in a few places. Fortunately, from what he could tell, he was alone, and didn’t hear anyone elsewhere in the long room. The metal table in the center of the room was the preparation area, and he could see a large sheet covering the food, with large soup kettles on a wood-burning stove to one side. Though the stove was out of place and had obviously been moved in at some point in the recent past, it seemed to work well, as steam rose from the kettles in lazy circles, and his stomach rumbled. It had been a long time since he’d had a full meal, and whatever was cooking on the stove smelled
good
.

He moved closer to the table, knowing he had to see what was under the sheet. These people had been here for a long time, possibly as long as four years. There was no power, no water, no heat and no food… yet here was soup…
So where did it come from? Are they hunting in the woods nearby? Dangerous with the walkers around, but possible. Assuming there are any animals left.
As the flashlight played across the table where the sheet had slipped aside, all the pieces fell together in his head, forming a picture that could never be unseen.

Five minutes later, Shaw exited the kitchen along with Keith and Evans, all wearing grim faces.

As they left the kitchen, they stopped short. Surrounding them in a loose semi-circle, the Believers had blocked all exits from the kitchen. Three more were guarding the volunteers upstairs with broken pipes or lengths of wood scrounged from who knew where, and all the volunteers were at the railing. Shaw noted that Arturo was holding an improvised bandage to his head, and even from that distance he could see the blood.

Liam stood in front of the others, facing the three airmen and holding his hands clasped before him.

Shaw tried not to grind his teeth. “Arturo, you got a good story for me?”

“They saw you headed for the kitchen, and they started pulling weapons. They took us by surprise, sir.”

Liam quickly spoke up. “Brother Shaw, we took action only because you and your men killed some of us when we would have met you with nothing but fellowship and sanctuary under the Lord. Have you anything to say for your actions?”

Evans started forward, but Shaw restrained him, and spoke, his voice loud and strong, meant for the volunteers on the second floor as well as the Believers in front of him. “One of yours died by accident when he got too close to our engines, and the second died through the hand of fate delivering justice for his own foul murder of one of us.”

The Believers glowered at him, and he could tell he wasn’t even making a dent. That didn’t matter, though. Now that there was no easy way out, the truth might as well be told. “Either way, I find it hard to care about offending those who would eat their own kind.”

Several of the volunteers gasped. All looked sick, wondering what they’d eaten just minutes before. Even some of the Believers turned a bit green and more than a few hid their faces in shame.

Liam started to speak, but Shaw’s commanding voice easily overpowered his. “And that’s not even the worst of it!” he said, shouting. “No, no, there is far, far worse yet that you have done, Liam.” Now shaking with rage, Shaw pointed to the old man.

“You have led these people to their deaths! You, who should have been responsible for them! The woman lying on that table in there—or what’s left of her, anyway—was bitten! She was infected with the prion, Liam!”

Some of the volunteers passed out, all looked nauseous, and several of the Believers turned to Liam with questioning looks. Liam, for his part, was silent, standing with his head bowed.

“You know what that means, don’t you, Liam?” asked Shaw. “I’d bet you haven’t told the rest of them, have you? Do they even know? You, with all your preaching of the Darkness and how it’s growing and must be purged. You’ve killed everyone in this room! Don’t you realize that? Everyone who ate… who ate that…” He paused, struggling to get his gag reflex under control. “Everyone is infected, now! They’ve got days, Liam, at most a week, maybe two, before they’re dead and the prion takes control of them. One taste of that soup, and they’re all walkers!”

The Believers began shouting now, and from above, Shaw could see the volunteers who hadn’t passed out struggling with their insane guards. He could see it happening, and could do nothing to prevent it.
Maybe there was never any way to avoid this,
he thought.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s better this way. For all of them
.

He drew his pistol as the first Believer looked his way and picked up a length of pipe. At that same moment, one of the guards from above screamed as he went over the railing, thrown down by the McMurdo volunteers. Shaw looked back at the Believer in front of him just in time to see the man’s mind snap, to see him make the decision to charge. As Shaw raised the pistol, time seemed to slow to a crawl, leaving him in an endless moment of reflection.

I love you, Jennifer
.

“Major? Major, wake up.
¡Despiertese!
”

Shaw swam up out of the darkness, wondering if he’d someone slipped into Spanish hell by mistake. Cracking one eye, he saw Arturo Onevás leaning over him, a bandage wrapped all the way around his head like an old cartoon about someone going to the dentist. As he was trying to process this image, pain flooded him from all directions, as though his entire body was bruised. He tried to sit up, but Arturo put a gentle restraining hand on his chest.

“
¡Pare! ¡No se siente, todavía!
Don’t sit up, you’re hurt.”

“What…” Shaw coughed and turned his head to the side, looking around. They were in a small dark room, with only the light of a flashlight illuminating the darkness. “What happened? Where is everyone? Where are
we
?”

“We’re in the baggage area. The Qantas office, if that matters. Everyone else…” Arturo paused, and Shaw heard the hitch in his voice.

“Go on, Arturo.”

“Almost everyone is dead. All of the Believers are dead, those
hijos de puta
!” He spit to one side. “You and your men killed many of them. My people and I tried to help, but we are not soldiers. We lost many before they died.”

“My men, Keith, Evans…”

“Mr. Evans, he ran away. I think his mind was… how you say… broken? He had seen too much. I do not know if he survives. Mr. Keith was killed by the Believers, though he took many of them with him. You were struck from behind as you tried to help him, and I thought you dead. When I discovered I was wrong, I brought you here to keep you safe.”

Shaw suddenly came to full consciousness, and began frantically checking his injuries. “You are not bitten, Mr. Shaw,” said Arturo, and Shaw relaxed. “I thought to check that first.”

“I have to get up, I have to see…” Shaw struggled to sit up, despite Arturo’s protests, and made it to his feet, leaning heavily on the counter.

He opened the door and stepped out, noticing some of the volunteers sitting against the wall nearby.
They seem awfully still
, he thought.
Oh, no
…

He reached back into the office and grabbed the flashlight from where he’d noticed it on the counter during his struggle to stay vertical, and turned it toward the wall. He didn’t think anything could shock him anymore, but he was wrong. As he saw the men and women sitting next to each other, slumped over, and the dry brown residue on the wall behind their heads, he knew what had happened. The gun next to the last person in line just confirmed it.

“
Que Dios se apiade de sus almas, y de las nuestras
. May God have mercy on their souls, and ours. They chose to leave this life on their own terms, Mr. Shaw. They had eaten the soup. They did not want to become one of the soulless dead. I could hardly blame them.”

Me, either
, thought Shaw.
I would’ve done the same
.