Apocalypse Z: The Beginning of the End (20 page)

BOOK: Apocalypse Z: The Beginning of the End
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Right now we’re hiding in a ransacked mom-and-pop grocery store. The metal gate, or what’s left of it is, is off its hinges. We’ve braced it up from the inside with two steel shelves. The other survivors are crowded together, sleeping in the light of a kerosene lamp. Shafiq is standing guard, nonchalantly nibbling on a candy bar. I can’t sleep. Images of the last twenty-four hours are racing through my mind. I have no one to talk to about all this, no shoulder to lean on. I’m writing to keep from going crazy. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and think this was all a bad dream and I’m losing my mind. Hell, I don’t have a clue where to start. At the beginning, I guess.

For two weeks I was under heavily guarded “freedom” aboard the
Zaren Kibish
. The captain and his first officer spent all their
time getting ready for the trip. I only left that wreck of a cabin to go to the bathroom, take a shower, and make quick trips on to the
Corinth
. Except for Ushakov, I only saw the cook, a pimply-faced, pockmarked Filipino who doesn’t speak a word of Spanish. So I had plenty of time to think about how off the chart things were.

I was in the middle of writing when Ushakov himself came to my cabin and motioned for me to follow him. We climbed down the stairs to the deck where the rest of my “team” was waiting: Viktor “Asterix” Pritchenko, whom I hadn’t seen since I first came on board, so I guess he and I are both prisoners; the first officer, with a huge pistol hanging from his waist; and four Pakistani crew members. They were all wearing heavy navy-blue uniforms, with crammed backpacks on their back. They all carried AK-47s, except for Viktor, who was unarmed. He gazed at me, half-resigned, half-terrified. He was as fucked as I was.

“You volunteered, too, right?” I asked and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“What?” he replied, confused.

“Nothing. Forget it.” Clearly he didn’t get my sarcasm. I turned to Ushakov. “What about my weapons?”

“You won’t need weapons, my friend. My men will protect you. Just guide them to the post office and bring me that package,” he replied and handed me a piece of paper. “The receipt for the package.”

I grabbed it with one hand and adjusted my wetsuit with the other. They all looked at me, astonished. They were probably asking themselves if I’d lost my mind. Did I think we were going surfing? When I read the receipt, I didn’t feel like joking anymore. Shit! No wonder the last team never came back. That package wasn’t at the main post office, which you could practically see from the harbor. The fucking receipt was from the VNT office, a local courier company. At the other end of town.

Resignedly I shook my head and put the receipt in the small, empty backpack they gave me. Clearly I wasn’t the one who’d carry the package back. I adjusted the straps and leaned on the railing to study the dead city. It looked grim and bleak. Beyond the devastated port, I could see the streets of Vigo, filled with abandoned cars, trash, dirt, paper, and plastic bags fluttering in the wind. In the midst of all that, those creatures wandered along a never-ending path. A damn Dead Zone. And we were headed right into it. I shuddered and turned to Ushakov.

“It’s getting dark. We’ll leave tomorrow morning, when there’s enough light.”

“No, Mr. Lawyer. You leave right now, under cover of darkness.”

“Do you know what you’re saying? We won’t be able to see!” I replied, agitated. I couldn’t believe it.

“They won’t be able to see you either,” said Ushakov, disdainful.

End of discussion. I couldn’t convince him that “they” didn’t need to see us to know we were there. Maybe he thought I was trying to delay our departure. Ushakov was a soldier, and he still thought like a soldier. In his mind, you had to infiltrate at night to have any chance of success. He was sending us off on a moonless night to a place filled with monsters. Things just got better and better.

A large Zodiac waited, tied to the side of the
Corinth
. As we were boarding, I saw one of the sailors clutching Lucullus. The guy had a couple of deep scratches across his cheek. My cat wasn’t happy with his captors either. As soon as he saw me, he let out a long, desperate howl and twisted around, trying to run to me. But the guy had anticipated his reaction and was wearing thick gloves. He skillfully moved his right hand and got my poor cat in a choke hold, immobilizing him. An inch more of pressure and he’d break his neck. Lucullus meowed plaintively as I looked on helplessly.

I saw red and took a step toward the guy. Someone shoved me hard toward the gunwale. Next thing I knew, I was climbing down into the Zodiac. As I took a seat at the bow, Ushakov leaned his huge hulk over the rail and cupped his hands.

“Hurry back, Mr. Lawyer! My Filipino cook hasn’t had any fresh meat for weeks. His culture has many recipes for cat!” He laughed. “I don’t know how long I can hold him off!”

The Zodiac’s motor started on the third or fourth try. We took off with a mighty roar. His threat rang in my ears. Fucking son of a bitch...

The light was fading fast. It’d be dark soon. As we approached land, I could make out the shore more clearly. I’d almost wished I couldn’t. It was a preview of what awaited us just a few hundred yards away. Suddenly I noticed the silence in the Zodiac. I turned around and looked into six pairs of expectant eyes. Drunk Nose barked at Viktor in Russian. He nodded and turned to me, his eyes round as saucers.

“Officer Kritzinev asks where get off, where land. He says you must guide.”

I nodded. Okay, I was in command, at least for the moment. I had to calm down. I had to think, if I wanted to get out of this nightmare in one piece and get my cat and my boat back. I got up the courage to scrutinize the shore, searching desperately for a safe place to land, a path, a sign...anything!

Suddenly I saw a place near the shore. Fuck it. It might be our only chance. I turned back around and signaled to the Pakistani at the tiller where to head. it was a crazy idea, but we didn’t have many options.

After so many days at sea, the feeling of solid ground underfoot was weird. As the shadows grew, I tried to make out the shape of the buildings around us. Behind me I heard the Ukrainians and Pakistanis rushing around, unloading the equipment. I breathed
deep and instantly regretted it. The nauseating smell of decay, garbage, feces, and burned flesh was mixed with another, more subtle scent. I couldn’t describe it, but I’d noticed that smell for weeks. I think it’s their smell. Do they have their own smell? Or am I going crazy?

The Pakistanis and the Slavs were ready to head out. They seemed to be a pretty competent and well-trained team, except for Viktor, who seemed lost in his own world and resigned. The way they handled their weapons told me they weren’t just sailors. Damn. Those guys were pros. Who the hell were they? What were they really doing here? And what was in that package? Was it worth risking the lives of seven people?

We’d landed at the far end of the Safe Haven, between some huge industrial warehouses and the gigantic lot where the Citroën factory parked its new vehicles. From there the cars would’ve been loaded on to the tankers and distributed all over the world. Now hundreds and hundreds of cars sat on the lot, abandoned in the dark.

Nearby I could make out a long row of brand-new Xsara Picasso luxury compact sedans, their seats still covered in plastic. They were dirty and neglected. I ran my hand over the nearest one, leaving a deep swath. After sitting there for weeks, it was covered in a thick layer of dust and more. With a shudder I realized they were covered with ashes from the fires. Maybe even human ashes. Jesus Christ!

I turned away from the thousands of vehicles that would never drive along a sunny highway. That was the past. Now all I could think about was being smart enough to survive until the next day.

The corner where we landed had a special feature: a small, squat building sitting next to a narrow esplanade entirely surrounded by a high brick-and-concrete wall. What had drawn us there wasn’t the wall or the esplanade. We were interested in the
huge Seguritsa sign on the building. It was the headquarters of an armored truck company. With hundreds of businesses operating in that tariff-free zone, it was logical they’d have a branch there. The port’s fish market alone moved a million euros a day. Someone had to guard all that dough and drive it to the bank.

The building was a veritable fortress. Those monsters couldn’t have climbed over the wall. If I was wrong, we were fucked. But we had no other option.

With a sharp wave, I communicated to Viktor that we should approach. I whispered that we should check the perimeter of the building. Nodding, the little Ukrainian slipped like an eel into the group that was hiding in the increasingly thick shadows. He relayed what I said in Russian to Kritzinev, who in turn gave instructions in Urdu to the Pakistanis. Quick as deer, they ran past me and melted into the shadows.

I felt uneasy about how complicated it was to pass along orders. They had to be translated several times and could’ve been misinterpreted at any point. The slightest mistake could send all of us to our grave. That’s just great! We handful of survivors made the UN look like a bunch of neighbors.

After five torturous minutes, one of the Pakistanis materialized out of nowhere, right in front of us, signaling that everything was okay. As we moved stealthily toward the building, I studied those odd guys. They were all in their twenties, thin and sinewy, with huge black mustaches and copper skin. They were very good at what they did.

When we reached the wall, we stuck to it like leeches. It was dark as the mouth of a well.

Although none of those things was close by, I could hear the noise their dragging feet made. That sound gave me the creeps. Something like
rasssssssss-thump
,
rasssssssssssss-thump
, repeated over and over. I could feel my balls shrink in sheer
panic. Those things were on the other side of the wall we were leaning against.

I walked quietly to the door of the building. As I expected, it was a huge steel doorway with slits on the sides. I grabbed the doorknob and turned. The door didn’t budge. It was locked up tight.

For a moment I didn’t know what to do. The possibility that that door would be locked hadn’t crossed my mind. We’d come to a fucking impasse. We couldn’t go back, we couldn’t get into the building, and we couldn’t move on.

All eyes were fixed on me. Turning to Viktor, I shrugged to say, “What do you think? I haven’t got a fucking clue.” Kritzinev stepped forward, raised the AK-47, cocked it loudly, and aimed at the lock. Before he could go on a shooting spree, I grabbed the muzzle of the gun, aimed it at the ground, and raised a finger to my lips. Shooting this door would only advertise our presence. I pointed to the corner of the building and the parking lot. It was our only option.

We walked along quietly, trying to melt into the wall, in complete darkness. I don’t remember if the moon was out, but the sky was clouded over. The starless night made the situation even more unnerving.

I was beyond terrified, but in my defense, I wasn’t the only one. I felt some satisfaction when I saw the fear in their eyes. Fuck them. It’s one thing to watch the bullfight from the sidelines, quite another to jump into the ring.

When we reached the corner, I cautiously stuck my head out and saw absolutely nothing. The darkness was so thick I couldn’t see more than a few yards in front of us. We had to turn on a light, so I signaled for a flashlight. A huge Polar Torch flashlight, the kind the police use, appeared in my hand as if by magic. I grabbed it with sweaty palms and pointed its polarized lens into
the blackness. For a moment, I panicked. What if I turned it on and spotted dozens of those monsters lurking around, with the light reflecting off their dead eyes? What if the light attracted hundreds of them? I hesitated. My finger was on the switch, and sweat was dripping down my back. Kritzinev nudged me. He whispered something Viktor didn’t have to translate. Something like, “What the fuck’re you waiting for?”

I was up shit creek. I pressed the switch, and a huge beam of light lit up the scene. All I saw was a huge, empty parking lot and a wall with a large metal gate on sliding tracks. It was still closed. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and realized I’d been holding my breath all that time.

We quickly crossed to the heavy gate. I looked at it in despair. Too large for us to force open. We’d come to a dead end. I stood there, stunned, staring at that huge gate, wondering what the hell to do. I knew the others behind me were waiting for me to make a decision. I had no idea what to say. Viktor walked up to the door and inspected it carefully. I just stood there, watching the Ukrainian in surprise. He ran his fingers along the edge closest to the wall. I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, smiling, sweat beading on his forehead, and whispered a single word: “Broken.”

With a creak as loud as a gunshot, the door moved an inch. It wasn’t locked! I suddenly remembered I’d seen that kind of door when I visited a client in prison. It was a high-tech model that used electromagnetic locks. As long as there was electricity, it was impossible to force the lock. In a power outage, the battery could keep the operating system armed for days. But even the smartest manufacturer couldn’t have planned for a power outage that lasted several months. So the lock was turned off, and you could push it open with one finger.

How the hell had Viktor figured that out? Who was this guy?

The door slid smoothly on its tracks, and we got a look at the street outside the compound. The street. The outside. Where those things reigned unchallenged. But when we cautiously poked our heads out, we didn’t see any.

Feverishly I swung the light left and right, afraid I’d catch a glimpse of one of those monsters. I swear to God if I’d seen one close up, I’d have slammed the gate shut and never come out, not even at gunpoint. Now I almost regret that didn’t happen. We’d have been spared what came next.

Just when I thought I’d swept the whole street, I aimed the flashlight to the right and my heart almost stopped. A huge red eye, evil and bright, was staring at me, unblinking, less than three feet away. It was terrifying. I was suddenly mesmerized. When I snapped out of it, I jumped back and almost dropped the flashlight.

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