Tracking Blood: Episode 15
An apocalyptic serial
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The streets of D.C. were a fevered nightmare. Fire ravaged entire neighborhoods. Red-eyed screamers attacked people on every side. Entire streets jammed with abandoned cars. All social rules were out the window. Not only were women and children not safe, they were often the enemy.
Tanya had left her wallet and bag behind, but seeing how things were going out in the world, she doubted anyone was open for business. They needed to get out of the city and find some place safe to hide, away from the over six-hundred thousand residents of the city currently ripping each other apart, and they needed to do it soon.
Ryan tried calling his father again. Tanya knew what his frustrated face meant when he put his phone away. “I think the phones are dead,” Tanya said.
“How do we know he’s okay?”
She sighed. “We have to trust that your father can take care of himself.”
“What about us? Who can help us?”
“People can barely help themselves right now.” They passed a burning crater that used to be a hospital. She tried not to look too long at the flaming debris, in case she saw something she regretted.
They drove for a while, taking the back streets and moving slowly to avoid too much attention. Whenever someone noticed them, she gunned it until they were out of sight, then slowed down again. It was getting harder and harder to avoid being detected. There was a very real chance they wouldn’t make it out of the city.
“We need a gun,” Ryan said.
“Guns don’t solve everything.”
“They solve some things.”
Tanya chewed on her lip. As much as she didn’t like it, he was right. They needed to protect themselves. If they couldn’t get out of D.C., maybe there was another way. “What we need to do is go someplace your father will find us. A safe place where we can wait for him to show up.”
“What if he doesn’t show up?”
“I’ll tell you what,” Tanya said, “if you promise not to repeat that, I’ll promise not to tell your father you ever said it. Deal?” He nodded. “Now let’s concentrate on finding somewhere safe, and maybe think about the gun thing later.”
Ryan nodded. “Is there anywhere we can do both at once?”
Tanya had a thought. “Actually,” she said, “I think there is.”
It took almost ten minutes for the ancient computer to boot up, and five more for the internet browser to start. The connection was terrible, probably due in part to the networks being overloaded, the same as the phone systems, but eventually Stanley was able to sign on.
“What are you doing?” Will asked from the window.
“Finding out how bad it is.”
It was bad. The government had declared Martial Law nationwide, with the military coming down hardest on the major cities. The virus had already spread to Mexico and Canada, and more reports of affected countries were coming in. Almost unthinkably, the Air Force had begun bombing densely populated areas. Stanley was about to make a wise-ass comment about the government not releasing weapons on their own soil. That ended when he read one headline. His heart dropped into his stomach at the words on the screen.
“Will,” he said.
“What?”
“You, um … you should see this.”
Will huffed as he left his post at the window to come over and read the headline.
Bombs dropped on Washington D.C.
“No.” Will’s knees went weak. He leaned against the desk and reread the headline, then scanned the article for details. There weren’t many specifics other than talk of bridges and hospitals.
“Tanya can take care of herself,” Stanley assured him. “She’s resourceful. She has connections. I bet you she got out of the city before the worst of it started.”
Will pushed away from the desk and tried to make another call on his phone. When the call failed he squeezed the phone so hard Stanley thought it would break in his hand. He looked like he was going to throw it against the wall, that temper Stanley knew in himself, the one that had gotten him into trouble so many times. Will acted like he was in control of it, and most of the time he was, but every so often it peeked out like a shark fin in the waves.
In those moments, nothing scared Stanley more than his brother.
Just as quickly, Will pushed the anger back down. “She told me not to come here,” he said softly. “I could have been there to protect them. Instead, I had to follow you out to the middle of nowhere. For what?”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“That’s right, it’s yours,” Will spit back.
“Don’t lose sight of who’s really to blame here.”
Will waved him off and went back to trying his cell phone. Meanwhile, Stanley got to work. It took some time to get a secure connection going on the old computer, but eventually he got a Tor browser going and logged in. “By now the suits are scrambling to cover up that they were ever a part of this,” he said.
He cued up the first video. The all-too familiar first frame popped onto the screen. Turning up the volume, he found the computer speakers didn’t work, so he borrowed a pair of over-the-ear headphones connected to an old stereo in the corner. He stood up and offered the chair to Will.
“What’s this?” Will asked.
“Just watch.”
Will reluctantly took the seat and settled in. “This better be good,” he said, slipping the headphones over his ears.
“It isn’t,” Stanley said. He leaned over his brother and pressed play.
Watching people die wasn’t like it was in the movies, either. Effects people had a way of turning death into a work of art, with intricate prosthetics and finely molded wounds. In real life, death was strange and hollow and uncomfortable to see. Ryan used to want to live in a horror movie, but now that he might actually die in one, he realized how stupid that thought actually was.
They reached the bail bond store in one piece. They’d gone there hoping Donegan, a man he’d never met, was not only home but wouldn’t shoot them on sight. It was crazy how quickly things had gotten so bad- this stranger was their best chance at staying alive.
The flower shop next door had a broken display window. As they walked toward the bail bond place, they noticed that blood was pooled around the window and in the shards of glass all over the sidewalk. Ryan tried to get a closer look, but his mom pulled him away.
The door to the bail bond store was unlocked. It was a relief to get off the street before someone or something saw them. They stepped inside and his mom locked the door behind them, giving him a knowing nod.
It was quiet in the small store. It was also surprisingly seedy for some place his dad would choose to work. A faint trail of blood droplets on the floor led from the front door to the counter, then around it and to a closed door at the back. Like breadcrumbs through the forest. They followed it, careful not to step in any.
The back door was unlocked, too. “This is way too easy,” Ryan said.
“Isn’t easy a good thing?”
“Usually not.”
They opened the door a crack. There was a small hallway beyond, lit by overhead bulbs, and a set of stairs heading up.
The stairs creaked underfoot. At the top was a door into an apartment. Ryan’s mom knocked softly. Nothing. She knocked again. When half a minute passed without a response, she tried the doorknob.
It was unlocked.
They hesitated, unsure of whether or not to go in, but a crash on the darkening street outside followed by a blood-chilling scream made the decision easier.
The apartment was small. There wasn’t a lot of furniture or decoration, and what little there was centered on either soccer or horses. Ryan felt awkward standing in a stranger’s living room they had practically broken into, but it beat the alternative.
“In here,” a voice called out, making them jump. They followed the sound to the bedroom, where a man was sitting in bed. Ryan immediately knew it had to be Donegan.
“They call it the Red Flu,” he said weakly. “I call it bloody bullshit.” Then he coughed into his arm.
Ryan’s mom pushed him behind her. “Stay back,” she said. Donegan raised his hand, showing them he was handcuffed to the heating unit next to the bed. “It’s alright, love, I’m not going anywhere.” He was pale and exhausted, slick with sweat.
“Donegan. I’m so sorry,” his mom said.
“Ahh, no one’s going to cry over this one, trust me.”
She took a step closer to the bed. Ryan could see the bandage wrapped around Donegan’s shoulder, stained with dried blood. “How did it happen?” his mom asked.
“This? I had a little date with the bird next door. She gave it too much teeth, so I had to put her down.” He chuckled weakly. “I’d hoped to end up handcuffed in bed, but to be honest, I was expecting something a little different.”
Mom smiled sadly. “Have you talked to Will?”
Donegan squinted. “If our boy had a chance to make a phone call, you’d better believe he’s calling you and not me. Shouldn’t you be at home, waiting for him?”
“The house burned down, along with our entire neighborhood.”
“That’s rough.” He stifled a cough. “Listen, love, I’m sorry I sent Will out there.”
“You didn’t force him to do anything. One way or another, he’s been chasing his brother his whole life.”
Donegan had another coughing fit. They waited for him to stop, trying not to breathe too much. “You can stay here if you like,” Donegan said.
“Thank you,” she said. She grew quiet, awkward. Ryan stepped forward.
“My mom doesn’t want to ask, but do you have guns?”
Donegan smiled at Ryan’s mom. “I like this kid already.”
Will felt like he was going to throw up again. He pulled the headphones off his head, yet the screams still echoed in his ears. The tortured, hungry sounds in a laboratory viewing room somewhere, the shouts of an airport security officer. In his mind, they turned into the screams on Ryan’s television. A Pandora’s Box of suffering and pain.
“Who did this?” he managed to ask.
“As far as I can tell, it was one guy by the name of Major Richards. He’s the head of CBRN for the United States. The guy at the airport, patient zero? His name was Mason. He was on the way to Fort Meade when what you saw happened. Either someone infected him on purpose, or he was carrying the virus and didn’t know it.”
“How did you get these videos?”
“The usual way,” he replied vaguely.
Will turned in the chair. “When? When did you get them?”
“A few days ago.”
The familiar sting of anger rose up in Will’s gut. He resisted the urge to punch his brother a second time. “People needed to be warned. You knew this for a few days and you didn’t tell anyone?”
“I was on my way to doing that.”
“From a cabin in the middle of nowhere? That’s bullshit. You were hiding.”
Stan glared back at him. “I’ll explain this to you, since you spend so much time with your head in the sand- these government types don’t respond well to people leaking classified documents. Does Edward Snowden ring a bell? How about the fact that these bastards tried to frame me for espionage when they realized I was digging a little too deep? I needed to disappear first, to make sure everyone could hear me before I blew the whistle.”
Will jumped up from the chair, grabbed Stan by the collar and pulled him in close. “You could have told me. Tanya and Ryan are back home, and these things,” he pointed to the screen, “they’re running around killing people.”
“I didn’t know it would spread so fast, honestly.”
Will let go of Stanley’s coat, disgusted. “Just as selfish as ever.”
“Will, I swear I didn’t know. I’m not a doctor, I thought there was time to warn people. No one could have predicted how fast this thing moved.”
The sun was setting outside. It would be dangerous to venture out with such low visibility, especially with the icy conditions of melted snow refreezing. They would have to wait until morning. Another night of leaving Tanya and Ryan on their own.
Will turned back to Stan with fire in his eyes. “If I’ve lost them,” he said, “those things will be nothing compared to what I do to you.”
Tune in next week for the next episode. For more Bleeders action check out the two books on Amazon, with the third on its way.