Black Flag | Book 1 | Surviving The Scourge Page 2
“Clarissa, are you okay? You feel like your burning up.”
“I am feeling a little sick all of the sudden, but I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Your nose is bleeding,” said Monique, becoming increasingly worried.
Clarissa felt her nose. “It’s the dry air-conditioned air in here.”
“Should I take you to the hospital?” asked Monique.
“No, you go home. I’ll be fine. I just need to rest, and so do you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” said Clarissa, “but you call me when you have your baby. I want to be the first friend who holds her.”
“You will. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Monique left ER Advertising Agency and walked to the bus stop. She waited outside of the bus shelter in the uncomfortable heat with her laptop case weighing heavily on her shoulder. Eventually, the bus creaked to a stop and a small line formed at the doors. She was the last to get on and was about to step on to the bus when she was suddenly pulled backwards. She was released just as fast and discovered her laptop case was no longer on her shoulder. A man dashed away with it. Monique was in no state to run, so she reached into her purse to find something to throw. She pulled out the first thing she felt and flung it at the thief. Her make-up mirror clattered to the ground as the man disappeared around the back of the bus. She rolled her eyes and boarded the bus without her laptop or her mirror.
“Are you okay, Ma’am?” the concerned bus driver asked.
“No,” she answered, “I’m pregnant.”
On the bus ride home, she fell asleep and had to get off at the next stop, take the bus going the opposite direction and finally made it home before the government-imposed curfew.
As she walked home from the bus stop, she called Clarissa on her cell. Her boyfriend answered. Donny told her that Clarissa had collapsed in a taxi on her way home from work. She was currently in intensive care at St. Jude’s Hospital, but was unresponsive. Monique cried the rest of the way home.
Her husband, Kevin, greeted her at the door and asked her the worst possible question: “How was your day, honey?”
Chapter 3
Joe knew he wasn’t alone in Building One because the noise he heard was not normal.
Building One was built in 1912. The tenants were mostly elderly and didn’t make much noise. However, it had an old boiler heating system which created a wide assortment of strange banging, clanging, and creaky sounds as it pushed hot water up five floors through its ancient pipes. It was currently the middle of summer, and the boiler was off. There was no central air conditioning system like in the newer Building Three, so the strange creaky noises were usually minimal until at least late September.
The noise he heard in his tool room sounded more like shuffling than creaking. It was as if a small animal was rummaging through his tools.
Maybe it’s a racoon.
Last week he was called over to Building Two and found a family of racoons nesting at the bottom of the garbage chute. However, it would be difficult for a racoon to get into his little room as he usually kept the door shut and locked.
He heard the noise again, this time a little louder.
I think I left the door open when I went left. What if the Man Without a Hatchet is hiding in my shop?
With the knowledge and experience of a man who has watched hundreds of horror movies, he knew better than to go towards the noise. He set his cup of whiskey on the counter and took a step towards the door to the hallway.
“Mr. Lortier?” A small voice from behind him whispered.
Unless Hatchet-less man had been kicked in the family jewels, that voice had to belong to a little girl. He turned around to find a young dark-skinned girl with tight braids in her hair peeking around the corner.
He breathed a sigh of relief. The girl was Ayesha. She could have been 11 or 12 years old. It was hard for him to tell. Her mother was raising her by herself on the third floor of Building One. They were one of the few people in Building One who were not over the age of 70. He had met her mother a couple of times but didn’t see her much because she worked nights at an all-night diner downtown. Ayesha’s mother made her play outside, so she could sleep during the day. Ayesha was a bright, friendly girl, and Joe couldn’t help but look out for her.
“Ayesha, what are you doing here?”
“I’m hiding.” She looked nervously around Joe.
“Is someone chasing you?” he asked.
“No, we’re playing hide-and-seek, and Zach is looking for me. He’ll never find me in here.”
“You’re not supposed to be in here.”
“Sorry, but the door was open.”
“A bad man’s running around, it’s not safe. You should go inside with your mother.”
“Mom’s sleeping. Besides, the cops took him away already.”
“What? How do you know that?”
She pulled out her phone, which barely fit in her jean pocket. “Zach just texted me. He said the guy had a little axe.”
“It’s a hatchet.”
“Found you!” A young, pudgy boy a little older than Ayesha with thick-rimmed glasses appeared at the door.
“You must be Zach.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Joe. You kids shouldn’t be out playing. You know there’s a very dangerous virus out there.”
Zach pushed his glasses up his nose. “My uncle says we already either have it or we’re immune.”
“Fine, but you should not be playing here. Get out and stay away from Building Two, I don’t think it’s very safe over there for you kids.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Joe,” Zach said, looking at his phone. “That guy with the hatchet is gone now.”
Finally, someone who knows what a hatchet is.
Joe looked at Ayesha and pointed to Zach. “You trust this guy?”
“He’s fine. He’s smart. His family just moved into Building Three, and he’s 12.”
“I’m 12 and a half.”
The two kids took off, running down the hall.
He worried about them. He worried about the virus. He worried that he may one day die of the Scourge.
He grabbed the remote and turned the television on.
According to the news many people had the virus but didn’t know it till just before they died. It had a six-month incubation period where the carrier didn’t have any symptoms. It was extremely contagious, and was already widespread in many countries around the world before scientists knew it existed. The virus grew inside the body slowly and covertly until suddenly it attacked the major organs. The infected person would die within days from lung or coronary failure. For many people, the incubation period was ending.
Joe grabbed his cup of whiskey and changed the channel. He sat back down on the dusty couch and watched.
The channel was reporting on the mass protests. In response to the increasing deaths due to the virus, shutdowns and curfews were imposed. Many people were upset that their rights were being suppressed and were angry that more wasn’t being done to find a cure. They went out into the streets to demonstrate and protest. This caused more shutdowns and curfews, which caused more people to be upset and scared. Like a dirty rolling snowball, the cycle continued.
Chapter 4
Later that same night, a few blocks north on Pochatok street, Monique and Kevin were finishing dinner.
“What are we going to name the baby?” Monique asked.
“I don’t know, maybe Alexandria?” suggested Kevin.
“Nah, too long. How about Lee?”
“Is that even a girl’s name?”
“Yes, it can be.”
“Oh, I know…Autumn.”
“Like the season?”
As Monique looked across the table at her husband, she saw a dark shape pass by the back window over the sink. Her heart skipped a beat. “What was that?”
“What?”
“Behind you…I saw someone go by the window.”
The baby kicked inside her, and she held a hand up to her belly.
Kevin looked at her. “Are you okay? Are you having the baby?”
“No, she just kicked.”
“I’ll do the dishes. Maybe you should take it easy.”
“What about the guy?”
“What guy?”
“The guy in the back yard. You need to go check it out.”
“Oh yeah, right.”
He left the kitchen and went out the back door into their little backyard. They had a late dinner that night, as Kevin had to work an extra hour at the factory, so it was dark outside. As soon as he stepped onto the back porch, the automatic exterior light came on.
“I don’t see anyone,” he called back.
“Can you please walk around the house once to make sure? I know I saw someone walk by the window.”
While he was gone, she washed the dishes and left them to dry on the rack. She went to the bedroom to change for bed. Kevin walked into the bedroom. “You going to bed already?”
“Yes, I’m tired after doing the dishes.”
“Oh yeah, sorry about that, I would have done them.”
“Sure you would,” she said.
“Hey, I was just got talking to the neighbour, Janice. Her husband, Mike says a lot of the other cops have died and some of the ones that are left are not showing up for work. She says they’re thinking of leaving too.”
“Glad you could have a nice little chat with our pretty neighbour while I did your dishes.” She shook her head, and with great effort, climbed into bed.
“Don’t be like that. I said I would do them, and I would have done them eventually. You’re the one that sent me outside.”
“So, it’s my fault that there’s someone lurking outside or that you take a half-hour to walk around the house just to get out of doing the dishes?”
“Hey, I worked all day at the factory. What did you do? You were home all day.”
“I was working at home all day, and I have been carrying around our baby for the past eight months.”
“That baby is a gift. A gift from God!”
“Well, I don’t think there’s room in this bed for anyone other than me and this gift of God. So why don’t you go sleep on the couch which was a gift from my parents.”
He stormed out of the room, and she turned out the light and tried to sleep. She was angry, upset, sore and tired.
How could he treat me like this? There was a time when he told me I was a gift from God. Now that I’m huge, he treats me like a…I don’t know what. And now what, he’s out there watching television like he doesn’t care? Why does this have to be so hard? Why does God think it’s a good idea to have a baby in a pandemic, anyway?
Eventually, her tired body won out, and she fell asleep.
She woke abruptly when she heard a thump. She turned to wake up Kevin, and realized he wasn’t there. Monique pulled the covers back and got out of bed. The night was warm, and she decided to forgo the slippers. She walked quietly to the bedroom door and opened it. There was the sound of muffled voices in the living room, and she stopped. The voices were two men, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Do I call out or go and hide? Is Kevin talking to someone?
She padded down to the end of the hallway and peeked around the corner. The living room was dark, but lights flashed on the walls and ceiling. Then she realized Kevin had fallen asleep with the television on. Kevin was sleeping soundly on the couch.
Why do you get to sleep peacefully?
Monique walked silently into the living room. She found the remote and turned the television off. The room was dark and silent. That’s when she thought she heard rustling outside.
Do I wake him, or will that just make him mad again?
She went to the front window and peered outside. The bright street light in front of their house allowed her to see most of their yard, but all she saw was an empty front yard and an empty Pochatok street.
I’ll have to get heavy curtains for the baby’s room so that light doesn’t keep her awake.
She heard a noise from the back of the house.
Monique walked through the living room into the kitchen, which was lit only by the clocks on the stove and microwave. She went to the window over the sink that overlooked the backyard, but it was dark outside, and she couldn’t see anything. Leaning across the sink, she cupped her hands around her eyes to see better. At that moment, the sensor light on the porch turned on. A dark hooded figure paused mid-stride on the porch and looked right at her. She screamed.
Her scream was short-lived when a gloved hand covered her mouth and an arm wrapped around her neck from behind.
She froze in fear.
From behind her, she heard Kevin say something as he awoke. Monique reached for the knife block, but her attacker pulled her away from the counter. The back door opened, and the hooded figure entered.
Kevin flew out of the living room straight at the attacker’s head. The man bent over with an oof as Kevin’s head collided with his stomach. The intruder fell backwards and hit the back of his head on the side of the table. A short black and green knife clanged to the floor. The man lay on the ground unconscious. Kevin stood up with a mixture of surprise, pride and anger. He took a step towards Monique and her attacker, but the cold steel of a knife materialized on Monique’s throat, and he stopped.
“Don’t step any closer,” the man said.
Kevin put his hands out in front of him. “Okay, okay, take it easy. Let her go.”
“Just back up and keep your hands in the air,” the man with the knife said.
The hooded figure on the floor was still not moving, and the black and green knife lay beside him.
“Please don’t hurt her,” Kevin begged. “She’s pregnant. Just take what you want.”
A plan formed in Monique’s mind. Before she had time to decide if it was a good idea, she screamed. “Aaaah! I’m having contractions!”
The man’s grip loosened, and the knife was no longer pressed to her neck. She keeled over and groaned again. “Aaaaah! I think stress has induced labour. Aaaah!”
She fell to her knees. Kevin went to take a step, and the man held the knife out towards him. “Back up!”
“But she’s having the baby, I have to help her,” he implored.
As the man’s focus shifted to her husband, Monique put her hands out on the floor to steady herself. Her hand sliding to the black and green knife. She snatched it up and held it at her side.
Her attacker looked down at her, and she pretended to point at something and mumbled.
“What?” he said leaning down, “What are you saying?”
She mumbled again, and the man leaned in closer to her, his knife still pointed at Kevin. As soon as he was within reach, she swung the knife up with all her strength, and it plunged it deep into his throat. There was a crunching, slurping sound, and blood began to pour out. He dropped his knife and brought his hands up to his throat. Both knives clinked to the floor. Monique stood up as the man slumped against the cupboards. Blood seeped out between his fingers, and he made gurgling noises as he gasped for air and then was silent.
Kevin grabbed her in his arms, and they both wept.
They managed to duct tape the unconscious man before he woke up. Kevin called 9-1-1, and an hour later, the police showed up. They arrested the hooded man and removed the other body. The police took their statements and told them that there had been several robberies and home invasions in the neighbourhood.
When the police and paramedics had left, Kevin and Monique sat on their couch. Monique had stopped crying, and Kevin had stopped shaking.
“I’m sorry about earlier this evening,” said Kevin, “I was a jackass.”
“I’m sorry too. I have a lot of emotions, and I’m pregnant and…”
“You don’t have to apologize. Besides, you saved our lives.”
“I can’t believe you stabbed a man in the throat. You’re like a pregnant Wonder Woman.”
“Olivia,” she said.
“What?”
“I think we should name the baby Olivia.”
“Oh.” He paused for a moment. “I like it. Olivia, daughter of Monique, the Wonder Woman!”
They laughed, talked and cried into the early morning hours. She eventually fell asleep in his arms.
Chapter 5
Two weeks later, Joe shaved his dark stubble and left his apartment to get some groceries. It was convenient living in the same building where he worked, especially since he didn’t need a car to get to work. It was a way to keep himself insulated from much of the world with so many reminders of his late wife. It was nice to get out and do some grocery shopping.
He patted his small paunch.
I need to start walking more.
It was early Saturday morning. The clouds were darkening, and the wind was starting to pick up. He considered going back inside to get his umbrella but changed his mind. He only had one and a half blocks to walk to get to the closest bus stop. The traffic seemed to be busier than normal for a Saturday morning in mid-August, but he didn’t think much of it as he boarded the bus. He walked to the third from the back seat and slumped down next to the window. A young couple sat in the back, looking nervous and talking in hushed tones.
Joe pulled out his phone and texted one of his few friends, Blender.
Sherman Waters was his real name, but everyone called him Blender. He wasn’t even sure why anymore. That had been his name since he had known him in high school. It might have had something to do with how he liked to blend his foods. Blender was the best man at his wedding and a good friend ever since. He was twenty pounds overweight, had a long beak-like nose and wavy brown hair. Blender loved to eat, and Joe liked to drink and play darts. Almost every Saturday night, they would head down to McFaddy’s Irish Pub for a game of darts and a few drinks. Blender went for the chicken wings and poutine while Joe went for the dart games and Canadian whiskey. They both went for each other’s company.