A New World: Untold Stories (23 page)

Written by P. Mark DeBruyn

Edited By: Lori L. DeBruyn

I found myself jammed into a stinky janitorial closet listening to whatever those damn things were banging around out in the passenger cabin. The screaming had stopped a few minutes before, and the ferry felt like it was without power and drifting. There was no vibration from the engines, no hum associated with being underway. It was the last ferry of the night and, as such, it was nearly empty. There had been about ten to fifteen people in the seating area and snack bar when one of the crew went nuts!

In my fifty-four years I have seen some violence, but nothing like what happened as I stepped from the stairs into the large passenger area. On the late night ferry rides, the lights are turned off in some sections to allow those who want to nap the luxury of semi-darkness. At first, squinting through the dimmed lighting, I thought it was just a fistfight and moved in to break it up. I am a big guy, 6’2”, 290lbs and, even at my age, most people respect my size and will stop the shenanigans when I make my presence known. I grabbed the guy on top by the back of his coveralls and pulled. He wasn’t that big and I figured once I disentangled him from the fight he would thank me. As I yanked on him I was impressed that he didn’t immediately lose his grip on the other guy.

Amidst the struggle, I caught a glance at the one being attacked and saw it wasn’t a guy at all! It was a woman. Granted, she was a large woman but a woman all the same. My anger rose and I put my weight into pulling this punk off her. All of a sudden there was blood, lots of blood. I quickly looked for where it was coming from.

Did he have a knife?

In the matter of a split second I heard my wife’s voice in my head.
“You had to make it your business didn’t you? Couldn’t just turn around and go back to your car?
”

My next thought was,
I’m too old for this shit.

I let go of the kid and took a step back to figure out the best course of action. Looking for his weapon and getting my bearings at the same time, I heard a scream from the dark corner to my left. Returning my attention to the melee before me, I almost lost my cookies. The guy I had been trying to pull off the large woman was now gnawing on her. Her screams of terror and pain were the worst I’ve ever heard. He wasn’t just biting her; he was fucking eating her face!

Something deep in my mind clicked.
This is off the charts weird. This is not something you can deal with. Get to a safe place, hide, and re-evaluate.

The only place I could see handy was the janitor’s closet.

*****

I hadn’t been to the Pacific Northwest since Mom had passed away in 2010. I was born in Everett just north of Seattle. When I was just a year old my parents had packed up the seven of us kids and moved to central California. Every summer of my childhood we would all pile into the station wagon and take a vacation back to our old homestead in Langley, Washington on Whidbey Island. I had always considered it home. Even after I left my parent’s house at seventeen to join the Coast Guard, I would head back to the northwest to see the homestead and visit with family that had either gone back or had never left. My dad died in the early eighties and Mom ultimately moved from California to eastern Washington to live next to my sister Meg. From that time until my mom passed, I would fly from West Virginia, where I now live (long story), to Seattle and visit everyone living on the coast before heading over the Cascades to visit my mom and sister.

Our big family had spread out all across the country since then. We hadn’t been together as a group since a reunion we had on Whidbey back in 1996. We currently had an email group that we all would use to keep up to date with each other. My brother Max had suggested it was time for us to meet up once again before we started dying off. I am the youngest of the seven and my oldest sister Barb was sixteen years older, so the dying off thing was a real possibility and, I suppose, inevitable. I had gone to visit her just last year in San Diego but hadn’t seen any of the others for some time. Max was my next older brother who tormented me endlessly throughout childhood. I, of course, was a perfect angel and in no way deserved such treatment. We had since become much closer and he had worked hard at making up for being my nemesis in those earlier years. He was generous to a fault and had actually paid the plane fare for me and my kids to go to the reunion in ‘96. My son was only seven then and my daughter was five. The wife did not like big crowds, especially big crowds of my relatives, so she hadn’t gone with us on that trip.

My kids are out of the house now; on their own and all grown up, so for this reunion, I would be flying solo. A month before I left West Virginia to trek to Whidbey, a flu virus had broken out in South Africa. I had kept an eye on it in the news and, as it spread, I started to wonder if I would end up having to cancel my trip. Three weeks before I was scheduled to fly out, the flu had spread to Europe and the States. The government had issued travel warnings and had ordered the CDC to develop a vaccine. They were calling it ‘
The Cape Town flu’
and, although I was attentive, I wasn’t overly concerned at that point. There had been so many pandemic scares in the last few years that had turned out to be nothing. I decided I wasn’t going to call off my trip over it. The Hong Kong flu, the avian flu, and the swine flu had all made their way to the US and had never amounted to much.

The day before I was to leave, my brother called and said that several of the family had decided not to come because of the flu scare. He was disappointed and kind of pissed! He had already paid for the house we would be staying in and now would be stuck with the entire bill. I told him not to sweat it. I would still be coming and that he and I, and whoever else showed up, would have a great time. I also assured him that I would cover at least half the cost of the house.

“I don’t care about the money,” he said, but the offer seemed to mollify him to a degree. “I’ll see you there. Call me if anything comes up.”

His flight would be getting in earlier than mine and I told him that we would meet at the rental house. There was no point in him sitting around the airport all day waiting for me to arrive.

*****

As I made a break for the closet, I saw who had been screaming off to the side. He used to be a man, now he was a meal. Draped over his body was a woman with a hateful look in her eyes. She was shoving handfuls of the man’s intestines into her mouth and was covered in his blood. She didn’t seem to notice me and I quickly darted into the closet. Now, sitting in the dark, I could hear what sounded like loud panting, a few withering moans, and one or two god-awful shrieks. I checked my cell phone for bars.

Damn!
I berated myself silently.

I had never taken it out of airplane mode! I reset it back to active mode, cussing myself the entire time. I always checked my phone.

How could I have gone hours without turning it back on?

It began to search for a signal.
Damn it! No
service!

I wasn’t going to be able to call the wife and calmly ask her, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”

I checked to see if I could connect to the internet via the Wi-Fi that had been listed on the printout when I had purchased my ticket online. My phone saw the network SID but it was asking for a password. I dug around for the printout, finally locating it in my cargo pants’ front lower pocket. I turned my phone and used the screen as a light to see if it listed the password.

BINGO
! No, seriously, that was the password: ‘BINGO24’, all caps.

I joined the network and waited to see what kind of signal I would get. It came up as an “excellent” connection, but it all depended on what kind of bandwidth the system supported as to how well I was going to be able to surf the internet. I opened up my browser and l headed to AOL. AOL was my email provider. I had it since the beginning of the World Wide Web, back when you still had to pay for a 56K modem connection and email. It usually had pretty good news feeds. I still had not put it together that my current dilemma was related to the Cape Town flu outbreak.

*****

I had flown into SeaTac around ten o’clock that evening, and while the airport didn’t seem busy, there were a lot of guys in olive green carrying M4 carbines around. Two people in lab coats and surgical masks stopped everyone as we got off the plane and asked where we had originated our travel. The couple in front of me said they had come from New York. They were then asked to follow the gentlemen with the guns to another area to complete a “quick” health check. I answered honestly that I had come from West Virginia, had a layover in Dallas, and had no contact with anyone showing symptoms of the flu. They stared me down and asked why I was wearing a surgical mask and latex gloves. I was tempted to ask them why they were but I told them that I had heard there was a bad flu bug going ‘round and didn’t want to chance catching it while traveling. They asked me a few more questions and then directed me to the baggage claim area. The thing was, I wasn’t going to the baggage claim area. It was going to be a short trip and I only had my carry-on bag and my laptop in a backpack.

I had considered checking a bag for one reason only. I could have brought my Smith and Wesson 9mm handgun. I had a Conceal Carry permit and almost always carried, but it was a hassle to check in at the counter with the weapon and go through the pat down at security. That came without fail next because the girl at the front made the secret notation on your ticket that you had checked a firearm. So, for this trip, I had decided not to carry my weapon. It would only enrage the liberals in my family anyhow, and besides, what could possibly happen…Right?

I headed down the hall then ducked out the terminal doors instead of continuing to the baggage claim area. I noticed there were two Guardsmen, or DHS guys or whatever they were, south of the exit catching a smoke, so I made a quick left toward the north part of the parking garage. I had pre-booked my rental car so I went straight to the garage, found the Enterprise self-check-in kiosk, swiped my credit card, signed the electronic form, and hit next. It hummed and buzzed and kicked out my keys and contract with the space number listed at the top. I walked down the line of cars and found my vehicle. My brother Max had no doubt rented a Corvette or Hummer or something. I, on the other hand, didn’t care what they gave me. I ended up with a Nissan Altima; a nice little car that I could fit into without too much discomfort. I opened the trunk and threw my bags in. Just then, there was a scream, but it didn’t sound human. It sounded more like a shriek than a scream.

I looked around and thought,
Well, what the hell? I don’t have my piece and I am kind of in a hurry.

I jumped into the car and headed for the exit, feeling only slightly guilty for not checking out who may have needed help. There was heavy security of some kind present so I filed the guilt away. I continued toward the booth where, normally, there was someone who would check your rental agreement and check out the car, but no one was in sight. The booth light was on and I heard music playing but nobody was home. I was already late and in danger of missing the ferry to Whidbey. I threw the car into park, opened my door, and stepped up to the booth. Reaching in, I hit the lift gate button. I got back into the car and tore out of there like a real criminal. Then, all I had to do was catch the last ferry to the Island. I checked the time. I was okay; I could still make it. I set the car’s GPS to Ivar’s restaurant in Mukilteo, which was right across from the ferry terminal, and merged onto the interstate.

*****

I was feeling a bit claustrophobic in the closet. I took some deep breaths and concentrated on my iPhone. AOL had some deal with the Huffington Post and that’s where the first news link sent me. The headline read ‘Cape Town Flu-A Full Blown Pandemic’. I went to the body of the text and read on:

Reports today out of every major city in the U.S. are painting a grim picture. New York closed all transportation hubs at eight this evening and the Governor called up the National Guard for help in quelling the spread of the infection. Los Angeles is a parking lot. The California Highway Patrol has been unable to open the major freeways into or out of the city. The only method to get from one place to another is the surface streets. The Governor of California has called for a dusk to dawn curfew. Similar reports are coming in from all over the country. There are also reports of rioting and that some of those infected with the Cape Town Flu are becoming extremely violent and attacking anyone they see. If you have a family member with symptoms of the Flu, monitor them closely and isolate them, or restrain them, in an effort to protect them and yourselves.

Holy Schmidt!
I thought

Whenever I travel, I usually tune out the rest of the world and focus on my destination and whatever book I am currently reading.