Scattered (7 page)

Jessica nodded and put him down. We headed out the front drive, past the heavy iron gates that had hung for as long as the property had existed. They were heavy and sturdily built when the farm first was started. Each panel was taller than me, and easily weighed a hundred pounds each. The supports were cemented into the ground on either side, and there was a huge rusting metal bar that slipped into place to lock it. Scrolling leaves and grape clusters were welded on in an attempt to soften the hard steel lines, to make it look more artistic than utilitarian. It didn’t work that well. At the best of times it was a major effort to close the thing, which is why we left it open, and why the bar was nearly covered in vegetation.

Jessica chatted at me the entire time, her bubbly personality yet another stamp of her mothers. I didn’t mind, she was a sweet girl. I wondered several times why she’d taken the Nevermore shot, she didn’t seem to need to lose weight, but I didn’t think it was a question I could ask her. Maybe when her mother came over for coffee I would broach the subject.

Jessica pointed out the neighbours who were nice, weird, and neutral quite effectively. Though the properties around here ranged in size, they averaged at five acres a piece with a few undeveloped properties scattered around. On our road alone there were only four homes; the roads on either side of us boasted two and three respectively.

The walk took us about an hour, and by the end of it I was packing Nero; I didn’t mind, he was tiny and the walk and visit left me feeling invigorated and more alive than I’d felt in weeks.

“Hey, that was fun. Would it be okay if I came and walked with you and Nero again?” Jessica asked as we stood in front of my place.

“Of course, anytime, you don’t need to call. I’m not going back to work for a while yet so just pop in.”

Jessica waved and jogged off towards home.

The car was back which meant that Sebastian was home. I smiled and headed towards the house. I didn’t care how grateful I sounded or how he might try to blackmail me with it later, he was a good man and I was lucky to have him.

“Sebastian?” I called out, Nero sound asleep in my arms. I wanted to apologize for being a jerk.

“Here.”

I clutched Nero close and kissed the top of his down-soft head, and made my way to the living room where Sebastian sat glued to the TV.

“Really? After the talk you just gave me about not wallowing and being out in the sunshine?” I said, tapping him on the shoulder. “I can’t believe you bought me a—”

“Shhh,” he cut me off and pointed to the TV.

On the screen was a reporter standing in front of VGH, Vancouver General Hospital. “It appears that the miracle drug, Nevermore, wasn’t such a miracle after all. Early reports are that the toxins thought to be strained out of the main component of the drug—cystius scoparius, better known as scotch broom—were not eliminated.” The reporter choked up, her eyes misting over and I wondered if she had taken the drug or knew someone close to her who had. “The toxins attack the part of the brain that makes us human, whole sections of the cerebral cortex are eaten away until there is nothing left but a base animal instinct.” Someone stumbled out of the hospital and the reporter turned and ran towards the man who clutched at his stomach. “Sir, can you tell us why you’re here today?”

“I’m so hungry, I can’t stop eating. Nothing fills me up,” He said. His eyes were glazed and his skin had a strong golden yellow hue to it, as if he were jaundiced.

“Sir, did you take the drug Nevermore?” she asked, sticking the microphone close to the man.

He stared at the microphone for a moment, opened his mouth to answer, and chomped his teeth around the fuzzy piece, growling and snarling. The sounds sent chills all over my body. The reporter backed away, the cameraman keeping tabs on the man attempting to devour the microphone. Then he looked up, right into the camera. His pupils twitched as the camera focused in on them, sliding from a perfect, human round, to a horizontal rectangle, reminiscent of a goat’s eye.

I gasped and grabbed for Sebastian’s hand. He gave it to me and I clung to him. That could have been me if I’d taken the shot—would have been me if not for the main ingredient. I pressed my nose into Nero’s fur and breathed in his scent as Sebastian’s hand went clammy in mine.

The man stood and opened his mouth. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to speak or if he was roaring at the camera. By the cameraman’s reaction, he was roaring. The scene jigged and jogged as the cameraman and the reporter fled, but in her heels and tight business skirt, the reporter wasn’t fast enough. The camera turned in time to see her get tackled from behind, her body slamming into the ground under the weight of the Nevermore man.

He reared up and slammed his mouth into her back, ripping a chunk of flesh as if she were a loaf of bread. Her screams were audible from whatever mic was left on the camera, then the camera was dropped and the screen scrambled, and then went black.

“That wasn’t for real,” I said, though I knew already in my gut that it was. It was like watching a hurricane rip apart a house. You didn’t think it was possible, didn’t think they would air it, but in your heart you knew it wasn’t staged.

Sebastian didn’t say anything, he just flipped the channel. They were all breaking news and bulletins. The Nevermore drug had been taken by what officials were estimating was close to ninety percent of the North American population over the last two months—street versions and FDA approved versions—both of which were having the same effect.

We watched in stunned silence for over an hour, the reports coming hard and fast at first, but then slowing as people were cautioned to stay within their homes and avoid all contact with the outside world while the outbreak was taken care of.

“I never thought I’d see the day a zombie apocalypse would happen,” I said as Sebastian turned the TV off.

“They aren’t zombies,” he snapped at me as he rubbed his left arm. “They can’t bite you and turn you into one of them. The doctors on TV said that already.”

“I didn’t say that they could bite you, I just said that they were zombies,” I said, confused by his sudden turn of mood.

“No, you didn’t. I’m sorry; this has just really freaked me out,” he said and pulled me into his arms, Nero squirming in between us.

“It’ll be okay,” I said, “We’ve got each other and the farm. We should be good for a while, right? It won’t take long. Someone will have this straightened out in no time.”

Sebastian untangled himself from me and strode to the kitchen. “We have to be ready.”

I followed him, “For what?”

“I think we’re going to be on our own for a while,” he said as a loud thumping footstep echoed through our little house.

My adrenaline soared as I thought about the scene on the TV. The reporter hadn’t had a chance, the speed of the Nevermore man and the ferocity of his attack were like nothing I’d ever seen before. I swallowed hard and put Nero in the bathroom on a makeshift towel-bed
;
shut the door and headed back into the kitchen. I didn’t want to believe that we were already going to face down one of the Nevermores, but it was all too likely. I stepped to my knife drawer
;
pulled out the biggest blade I had and gripped it tight. Sebastian nodded and pulled out a knife of his own. Together we crept through the house to the front door, reaching it as another thump rumbled through the floorboards. What the hell was out there? I didn’t want to know, really I didn’t.

Sebastian held up his hand and with his fingers counted to three. I nodded and he held up one finger, two, and as he held up the third he gripped the doorknob and snapped the door open.

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The cool, wet sand slid through my toes as I scrunched them up. A rolling wave splashed around my ankles. The wetsuit I was wearing only came to mid-calf and was hardly a protection against the cold water. Chesterman Beach was beautiful, everything the package had promoted it to be and then some. I hoped that Ashling appreciated what it took for me to be here—to face my fears for her. She didn’t seem any worse for the wear after our short—and my nightmare-filled—night. I, on the other hand, found myself stifling yawns and daydreaming of sleeping the afternoon away.

I fingered the sheath on my upper thigh, which held the knife Grandpa had given me right before he went into the institution. I’d wondered at the gift at the time; he’d really never bothered with me before. But when I’d told him that I was going diving he’d been frantic for me to have the knife.

“Here, here. Take it,” he’d said, nearly slicing me in his eagerness to give me it. The knife had a bone handle its blade about eight inches long with intricate engravings swirling down the back of the razor sharp edge.

“Always take it with you when you go in the water. Promise me. That’s when the monsters come,” Grandpa had said.

I’d taken the knife and given him my promise. It was always the same with him. The monsters he saw, he feared they would come for the rest of us. So even if I wasn’t his favourite, it was better—according to him—that I survive and the monsters die. Yup, he did say that to my face. I shook my head, scattering the thoughts.

I hated to admit it, but I took comfort in the knife and did indeed take it with me diving. It had saved me once already. I grit my teeth as memories rushed through my mind and threatened to suck me into a panic attack. Using slow even breaths I managed to get my heart rate to a normal level. Okay, almost normal. Those memories needed to stay in the past, where they belonged. If only it was that easy.

Though this was what Ashling wanted, it was not my idea of a good time. Surfing on the west coast of Vancouver Island was even less of a good idea, at least to me. The water was cold, even through the heat of the summer, and it was known for its riptides and jagged rocks as much as its surfing. And yet, here we were. I shook my head, curls catching in the wind, and tangling into knots I knew would be a pain to get out later.

“Come on, Quinn, that water is great and the waves are bitch’n!” Ashling yelled. I stared at her out in the water, sitting on her surf board, unruly strawberry blond curls escaping her ponytail and dancing in the wind. She hadn’t even put on the surfboard leash, cocky little thing that she was.

I waved at her and forced a smile to my lips. I wouldn’t ruin this day for her; this was her moment, her celebration.

“I hate this,” I muttered under my breath.

“Then why are you here?” A strong male voice asked me. It was our instructor, Luke. Damn, the voice I’d heard on the phone more than matched the guy it was attached to. Rich and sensual.

I had a hard time looking at him. Drop dead gorgeous wouldn’t even begin to describe the man in front of me. Not too tall, maybe 5’10, with blond hair that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight and blue eyes that I couldn’t look away from. I swallowed hard and stared at the sand at my feet. He was far too pretty, far too dangerous, with his silky voice that made me forget my own name. Ashling had been—to say the least—delighted when she saw him and realized he was our surfing instructor. Flirting and prancing in her little red bikini, she’d been determined to get his attention. But while he was kind to her, he didn’t fall into her arms as she’d been obviously hoping. Secretly, I was laughing. She was so pretty, petite and feminine, she wasn’t used to men turning her down.

I fingered the cuffs on my wetsuit, anxiety starting to build. “I promised her we could do anything she wanted for her graduation gift.”

We were the only ones here on this part of the beach, the early morning enough to scare many of the tourists away as well as the die-hard locals, by the looks of it. From what the brochure had said, usually the beach was flooded, despite the cooler water and the mist that wouldn’t burn off till afternoon. In the distance I could see a few surfers riding the waves, black specks on the water.

“You must care for her a great deal,” Luke said. He sounded surprised.

I frowned at him. “She’s my baby sister; of course I care about her.”

“I’d hoped that wasn’t the case,” he said, his voice soft. My frown deepened and a thrill of alarm started at the base of my spine.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked, frowning at him. He didn’t have a chance to answer me.