Tracking Blood: Episode 21
An apocalyptic serial
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Stanley had been plugging his laptop into the cigarette lighter periodically and trying to sign on. He was trying to get updates on what was going on in the world. Being isolated was a gift in one way, but it also left them flying blind. Connecting had become next to impossible as server after server crashed, plunging them into information darkness.
Finally, he got on, but he found that none of the sites he visited had updated in days, and all the pages were inaccessible or dead. For the first time maybe ever, the internet felt like a ghost town. Where were all the people in hiding? Where was the pushback?
He checked his messages. He had tried to contact M. Zero the last time he signed on, hoping to see if the hacker community was working on anything, but there was no response waiting for him. The same with GhostBot.
Marco hadn’t responded, either. That one hurt worse than the others. Marco had been a brother when his own brother wasn’t there for him, bringing him food, making sure he was okay. Stanley stared at his empty inbox, hoping something would pop up.
“You alright?” Will asked. “You don’t look too good.”
“I think it’s starting to sink in.”
“What is?”
“All of it. How much has been lost.”
“We haven’t lost everything.”
“I’ve been looking for signs of life, and I can’t find anything.”
“Then keep looking.”
He knew what was bothering Will. It was the same thing that had sent them on this impossible journey. If the roles were reversed, Stanley didn’t know if he would make the same decision. He stopped thinking about it and signed onto a usenet group he hadn’t visited in a long time.
To his surprise, it had been recently updated. There was a flood of information available there, from lists of destroyed cities to names of known dead.
“I found something,” he said, going through as much data as he could and relaying it all to Will. Will just drove and listened, silently taking it all in.
Stanley’s eyes went to a line that read Estimated Infection Rate. The number made his jaw drop. “Holy shit,” he whispered.
“What is it?”
“They estimate half the population is infected.”
“Half of the United States? Is that even possible?”
“Not the U.S.,” Stanley said, looking up from the screen. “Half of the world.”
They drove in silence for a while. Stanley checked the time on his screen. It was 7:15 in the morning. Who knew what fresh horrors the day would bring?
The tall man Max had kicked out for fighting still hadn’t returned from his supposed mission to the armory. While Ryan was off with some other people from the group, Tanya kept a close eye on Max. He was building something down on the court. Or rather, the people he was bossing around were building something. It looked like a chair with a lot of extra bits.
After they chained the doors and set up security checkpoints at the main entrances, the group busied themselves by converting the venue into a livable space. They blocked out storage areas, set up food stations, and assigned offices to become sleeping quarters. Not only was Max setting up the beginnings of a small community, he was positioning himself at the center of it. Tanya scoffed as she realized what he was building down on the court.
It was a throne.
“What an asshole,” she said under her breath. Leaving the court behind to head to the office area, Tanya found Ryan talking to a guy a little older than himself about swords. She called him away from the conversation and took him to the side where no one could hear. “Who’s that?” she asked.
“His name’s Henry. He has some pretty good ideas about defending ourselves. I told him he should bring it up to Max at the gathering tomorrow.”
“Gathering?”
“Yeah. It’s like a meeting.”
“Alright, never mind that. It’s time to go.”
“Did Max send us on a supply run?”
She saw what was happening. Ryan was drinking Max’s Kool-Aid, and if she didn’t act soon, he would become a full convert to the Church of Max. “We’re getting out of here,” she whispered.
Ryan chewed his lip. “But … he can protect us.”
“Your father can protect us. This guy is trouble.”
Ryan frowned. “He’s not a bad guy.”
“Baby, you’ll come to understand it’s not just good guys and bad guys. Bad people occasionally do good things, and good people aren’t perfect.”
There was a long silence. Then Ryan said, “You really think dad’s coming?”
“I know he is. I left something at Donegan’s apartment for him. He’ll know what it means.”
Ryan nodded. “Then we should leave tonight, after everyone’s asleep. There are guards at the entrances, but I saw a couple of doors on the other side no one’s really watching.”
Tanya smiled. Ryan wasn’t lost just yet. “Are they chained up?”
He nodded.
“Then we need to figure out how to get a key.” She started thinking about how she could sneak it off one of the entrance guards, or convince them to hand it over. When she looked back at Ryan, he was grinning at her. “You took one?”
He patted his pocket.
“I thought you said Max could protect us.”
“Well, yeah, but I’m not stupid. I wasn’t getting stuck here without a way out.”
She mussed his hair up. “You’re definitely your father’s son.”
Some time later, Tanya snuck off to one of the storage areas to pocket some food for the coming trip. It was at least two miles from the Armory to the Botanic Garden. In the absolute best of circumstances, that was a forty-five minute walk, and it was safe to say they weren’t under the best of circumstances. As she stuffed a candy bar into her pocket, she saw something move in the shadows on the other side of the hallway.
Visions of infected tearing through the halls filled her mind. She could only see the back of someone’s head. As her eyes adjusted, she recognized CiCi’s face. Max had her pressed up against the wall, and it looked like he was eating her face.
Then Tanya realized what was going on. They were making out, away from the eyes of the group. Tanya snuck away, heading back to her quarters with pockets full of food.
“No favorites, huh?” she said to herself.
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