Dark Days (Apocalypse Z) (11 page)

Alicia settled back into her chair. “Clearly that didn’t happen to you all.”

That explanation didn’t reassure me. If I’d had an open cut when I’d been splashed or gotten some fluid in my eyes, my story would’ve ended right then and there. I’d have become part of the legion of the Undead.

“Once vectors of infection surfaced worldwide, the entire planet became a living hell in a matter of days. Health services collapsed first, when it became clear that the hundreds of infected patients in hospitals were beyond a cure. Those Undead transformed hospitals into slaughterhouses, death traps. By the time the army got involved, it was too late. We have no data from other countries, but we believe that seventy percent of the medical staff in Spain died in the first forty-eight hours after the initial outbreak.”

“Seventy percent?”

“That’s a conservative estimate. Judging by the number of doctors and nurses who survived and are currently on the islands, the number is probably much higher.” Alicia’s face darkened. “The same thing happened with the police, firefighters, and EMTs. Everyone who tried to help in the early hours of the chaos was exposed to TSJ.”

The air conditioning droned as Alicia’s words hung in the air. All the pieces of that dramatic tapestry began to fit into place.

“Once governments accepted that the world was falling down around them, the phones of various state departments rang off the hook. There was even a meeting of the European Union to address the issue.”

“I remember. Their faces said it all.”

“They finally got scared.” Alicia’s voice hardened. “However, even then they couldn’t agree on a plan that might’ve saved the continent, maybe even the world. All they did was appoint a Joint Crisis Committee and declare a news blackout, then tuck their tails and run back to their own countries, shitting bricks. Most countries armed their borders, hoping to head off the Undead.” She sipped her coffee and clicked her tongue. “But by then the Undead were in every country. Borders meant nothing to those deadly hunters.”

“You mean it was like that all over the world?”

Alicia laughed mirthlessly. She looked at me in disbelief, wondering how I could be so clueless. “Of course not,” she replied with a scowl. “It was worse.”

“Worse? How could it’ve been
worse
?”

“Faster, stronger, with worse consequences. For example, in the United States there were more vectors of infection at one time than anywhere else in the world because the Americans sent more medical personnel and more military to Dagestan than any other country. In addition to that, U.S. troops in Iraqi Kurdistan who oversaw the enormous camps of Dagestan refugees got infected too. By the time the U.S. government woke up, the virus was out of control in over thirty cities across the country.”

I whistled softly, picturing the virus spreading across a country the size of the United States.

“When reporters from CBS discovered what was going on, the network bypassed censorship and issued a special report. Immediately after the broadcast, panic spread throughout the country. Millions of people swamped airports and highways, struggling to get out of the cities. Families threw all their belongings in their cars and headed for rural towns where they thought they’d be safe. They didn’t know that many of them already carried the virus, so it spread rapidly across the country. The U.S. government rushed to copy the European model of Safe Havens, but it was too late. Mass hysteria had taken over. The nation’s institutions began to collapse as more and more officials didn’t show up for work, either because they’d fled or they were dead.”

With a chill, I pictured the horrific scene. The United States has an intricate network of highways and airports, so when thousands of
infected people fled, they were like Trojan horses, spreading the TSJ virus to every corner of that huge country.

“We believe there are still a few Undead-free zones, especially in the middle of the country. Those areas held out thanks to vast distances, the deserts, the low population, and because gun ownership was widespread before the Apocalypse. We don’t know what the living conditions are like in those regions, if anyone is in charge or if anarchy is widespread. From what little intel we have, the situation varies greatly from one area to the next. Some places are trying to rebuild some semblance of an organized society out of the ashes. In others it’s the survival of the fittest. It can’t be easy living out there.”

“What about South America?”

“Well, it varies. Mexico was affected, almost to the level of Europe and the United States. Hundreds of thousands of Americans thought they’d be safe if they crossed the border. But all they did was spread the virus. Imagine the surreal situation facing astonished Mexican border guards when they discovered that their rich, proud neighbors to the north were now ‘wetbacks.’ They closed the borders, but it was too late. Thousands of panicked
Americanos
managed to sneak across the border. In large parts of Mexico, the locals went on a ‘gringo hunt,’ egged on by the Mexican press. Anyone who looked like a Yankee ‘swallowed a pint of a lead,’ as the saying goes. Shoot first, ask questions later. But within ten days, the Mexicans had their own problems to worry about. Something like that happened in Venezuela, only there—”

“I remember hearing something about a war between Chile and Bolivia,” I chimed in.

“That’s right. In the midst of all that chaos, the Chilean army crushed the poor Bolivian army and pressed deep into the southern part of that country. But the chaos in their own nation forced them to turn back. That, and the hordes of Argentine refugees crossing its borders.”

“The Argentines?”

“In all that madness, the Argentines were dealt the most fucked-up blows,” Alicia said in a mocking tone.

I smiled. As the conversation progressed, Alicia’s language got more colorful. She seemed more comfortable talking to me and I felt the same.

“Buenos Aires was one of the largest urban centers in the Southern Hemisphere. Millions of people were packed into a relatively small area. As the rest of the world was falling apart, Buenos Aires didn’t have a single case of infection. Not one. It was one of the few civilized places on the planet that were ‘clean,’ but no one took any preventive measures. A week later, when thousands of refugees flocked to the city, no one oversaw their arrival, checked their health, or set up a quarantine. Nothing, as surprising as that may seem. When cases of the epidemic turned up in an overcrowded urban area, nobody—absolutely nobody—bothered to take control. The Argentine military tried to imitate its neighbor, Chile, and overthrow the government, but the civilian government didn’t go down easy. There were demonstrations, shootings, an aborted
coup in extremis…
As the world was disintegrating, the Argentines were stunned by the power struggle among their leaders. Finally someone got really scared, but it was too late. Members of the government absconded with all the money they could get their hands on and hopped on a plane headed for God-knows-where.”

Alicia took out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one. I took it in silence and let her light it. Interestingly, she didn’t light one for herself but put the pack back in her pocket. I was mesmerized by the way she flicked her lighter on and off as she talked.

“I don’t know where those assholes went, but I hope those monsters got every one of them,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Two weeks after that, the Embalse Nuclear Power Station, near the city of Cordoba, blew up, casting a radioactive cloud over the entire north. No one ordered the shutdown of the plant. Operators disappeared. No one stopped the system from failing. In a brutal example of negligence, every government official dropped the ball. We assume that the plant kept operating unattended until the uranium destabilized and set off a chain reaction that ended in nuclear explosion. All of northern Argentina and southern Brazil are now a radioactive wasteland, where life is impossible, except for the Undead. Of course, they’re already dead!” she said, frowning.

“How can people do shit like that?”

“In Asia things were even worse. The Chinese lost their heads and tried to eradicate the disease from their main population centers with controlled nuclear explosions.”

“NUCLEAR BOMBS?” I couldn’t believe that was true, even though I’d heard about it when there were still TV newscasts.

“The value of human life is more relative in other cultures. What’s inconceivable in the West makes perfect sense to a person from the East where the community matters most, not the individual. If you can save the community by eliminating tens of millions of individuals in one fell swoop, no matter if they’re healthy or sick, you don’t hesitate.”

“And that was their strategy.”

“That was their strategy,” Alicia replied, nodding.

“Did it work?”

“Not one bit. Radiation can’t kill someone who’s already dead. Sure, they incinerated millions of Undead, along with millions of innocent people. Given that country’s dense population, even if only a small percentage of Undead survived the explosion, that equates to
millions
surviving who then scattered in every direction from the razed cities.” Her eyes bored into me. “Think about it.”

“Absolute chaos… worldwide,” I whispered.

“We aren’t the worst. In Asia and the Middle East, human life is no longer possible. At least, life as we know it. As for Africa… the stories the few survivors have told us are shocking. Africa is hell on earth. We surmise there’s almost no one living on the continent, except for small, isolated groups scattered throughout the rainforest or Tuareg nomads roaming the Sahara desert. Dozens of small-time kings and warlords filled the power vacuum when the governments collapsed. Disease, war, famine, and nature swept away anyone the Undead didn’t get. Africa has regressed hundreds of years,” she said with a frown. “The living are almost more dangerous than the Undead.”

“We stopped in a fishing village on the coast of Morocco.”

“You said in your statement it had been ravaged by ‘fire and the sword,’ as the saying goes. That’s the pattern all across the continent. It’s a fight to the death for resources
and
survival.”

“Resources? Africa is probably the most fertile place on earth! It could easily provide food for the rest of humanity!”

Alicia laughed and looked at me as if she knew a huge secret but wasn’t sure whether to tell me.

“We don’t just need food. We’re running desperately low on all the basics: medicine, fuel, clothing, ammunition, vehicles that run. Think
about it: Every box of medicine our hospitals consume means one less box of medicine in the world. Every gallon of fuel our helicopters burn means that much less transportation by air. Every bullet we fire at those bastards takes us one step closer to defending ourselves with bows and arrows! No industry, no international trade, no technology, no tankers bringing fuel into ports. Think the world’s a mess now? Wait a couple of years and you’ll look back on this as the good old days. We are rushing headlong into a new Dark Ages. And as long as those creatures are out there, there’s not a thing we can do about it!”

“But there must be something we can do…”

“If you’ve got a brilliant idea none of us has thought of, pal, lay it on the table right now,” she replied, half mocking, half serious. “I guarantee you’ll be the most popular guy on the islands.”

“But I thought civilization on the islands still worked. I assumed this was the real Safe Haven where we could all continue our lives!”

Alicia looked at me for a moment, then she stood up and motioned for me to follow her. “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

15

We went back on deck. Twilight glowed red on the horizon as a warm, sand-laden wind blew across the harbor, turning the air into hot, thick soup. Each breath felt like I was shoveling boiling air into my lungs. As soon as we left the cool air conditioning inside, we started to sweat. I wished I still had some of that soda.

Alicia walked to the gunwale and absentmindedly offered me another cigarette. I shook my head. I was light-headed and my mouth was as dry as the desert. After a month in that cell, I had an attack of vertigo as I walked down the
Galicia
’s long runway. In silence, we looked at the city that encircled the bay. Lights started to glow as darkness closed in. I was just about to ask about the fate of my friends, but before I could say anything, Alicia pointed to the port.

“See that ship? The biggest one, across from those tall buildings.”

I looked where she was pointing. A massive ship painted bright blue, much larger than any other vessel in the harbor, bobbed lazily in the waves. It sat unusually high in the water, exposing a wide swath of its topside that would normally be underwater. That could only mean that the vessel had no cargo in its holds.

“That’s the
Keiten Maru
, a Japanese supertanker. It used to belong to one of the largest conglomerates in Japan before the Apocalypse. That monster can transport one-hundred-and-fifteen thousand tons of crude oil. As all hell was breaking loose, it was returning from the North Sea loaded with Norwegian oil, bound for Japan. Before reaching the
Canaries, three crew members died of TSJ, including the first mate. Even as crew members were falling ill, the uninfected survivors managed to round up the Undead and lock them in a hold. But panic broke out, so they dropped anchor here. Then the world collapsed and the ship was stranded forever. Paradoxically, its misfortune was our salvation. Without the
Keiten Maru
, we wouldn’t have had a chance.” Alicia’s pale eyes seemed to look right through me.

“Why’s that? What linked that ship to the fight against the Undead?”

“That massive load of crude. We refined all that wonderful stuff into fuel,” she said, pointing to the towers that dotted the horizon.

Of course! The Cepsa Refinery.

“When the system collapsed and the islands were cut off from the world, we had enough fuel for two weeks, tops. The
Keiten Maru
brought us an adequate fuel supply. But, despite strict rationing, we’ve been burning through the last of our supply for a month. At this rate, we’ll use up the last liter in four or five weeks.”