A Thousand Nights with You - 13. Warring hearts

All eyes fall on Grey.

Five of us stood in the tiny briefing room. Dust and silence fills the air. The crumpled city map on the wall is overlaid by numerous blue tacks. Each blue tack represents the current congregation points of the infected, based on the scout patrol’s reports.

Grace looks slightly amused. Tristan is pale. Mark and I stare at him in disbelief. He plans to crash our vehicle straight into the horde. There are so many blue tacks on that spot that the map is completely buried beneath.

Grey scans the room, assessing all our reactions before he explains his plan.

“We need around forty five minutes to move all the algae tanks and equipment into the vehicle. The only way to do this uninterrupted is to create a diversion big enough to get all the infected in this entire block away.”

“An explosion?” I ask.

I did that once to save ourselves from being swarmed in the supermarket, using firecrackers.

“A big explosion.” Grey corrected. “With fire, smoke, and the smell of burning flesh. They need to see and feel the explosion a mile away.”

“How are we going to do that?” Mark asks.

“We will head into the city in two vehicles.” Grey replies and then he turns to my brother, “Tristan, I will need you to drive the armoured rover and lead the way. I will drive one of the abandoned cars in the dumpster, packed with these.”

He shows us a large pack of farm fertilizers.

“Ammonia Nitrate? You’re making a home-made bomb?” Grace said.

“That’s right. A car packed with these can blow up an entire street.” Grey said.

He turns to Tristan and says, “You will lead them in circles until a sizeable horde is on our tail. Then lure them towards this choke point.”

He points to a location on the city map on the wall. Then he continues, “Once we’re there, I will crash the car straight into the horde behind us.”

I shuddered. Driving a car packed full of explosives straight into the horde is a suicide mission. I don’t know how Grey plans to survive this.

“What happens to you?” I ask softly.

“I will jam the car pedals before I set it on collision. Before it hits, I will jump out and run over to join the rest of you. But if I don’t make it…”

His face is grim, but he looks serene. The Colonel and I have just given him to perfect excuse to die. I feel terribly guilty. The faces on the others are grave. Grace looks at him, but Grey looks away. He does not want anyone to feel sorry for him.

“Few things to remember, Tristan.” He continues. “Once I’m set on collision, I will horn the car to let you know. Drive as far away as you can from me. The blast will take down everything within a hundred yards. Even if I die, I will take down a whole lot of them.”

My brother’s face is white. That doesn’t leave much room for any error of judgment. If he drives too far away, the infected may get Grey before we pick him up. If the car hits something prematurely and explodes, we will be dead as well. Grey didn’t wait for him to respond. He continues,

“Two, if I make it out alive, turn around and pick me up. Cover me if any surviving infected are on me. Once the horde gets caught in the fire, the smoke, the smell of burning flesh will invite every infected in the city to the barbeque.”

He moves all the blue tacks onto the new congregation point and points to the empty street in Holborn. And he says, “Then we will detour from this street and enter into Holborn with a red carpet rolled out under our feet.”

Hope and fear sparks in our eyes. The plan is both brilliant and insane. It’s a huge gamble and the stakes are all of our lives. Grace and Mark start arguing for a while. Each of them throwing a safer alternative to this crazy plan, but all of us knows it won’t work otherwise. A small explosion like what I did at the supermarket won’t distract enough of them or long enough for us to move all the tanks onto the rover. There is also no way we can sneak past them with a forty pound tank on our backs. Grey calls the team into order, reminding everyone that he calls the shots.

“Three. If I’m injured, or if I get swarmed, don’t come back for me. Follow Grace’s lead. She will lead the mission in my stead.”

“Me?” Grace seems surprised, so are the rest of us.

Grey looks at her, his eyes filled with respect. “Take care of these boys like you did for me in Iraq. I know you will.”

They exchanged a look. She nods in understanding without a second word. I look at Grace.

In the Green House, she rarely says much. Martha is the Queen Bee and the motherly one who fusses over everybody. At first, I thought she was a bored housewife, or a snarky secretary who had an affair with her boss. Grey respects her, and obviously not because of her age.

“And after that?” Mark asks.

“Then we pray.”

Towards the end of the briefing, Grey gives us a list of equipment and weapons, signed by the Colonel to draw from the armoury. Grace asks us to stay back after that to brief us a little more since Mark and I are new to such missions.

Next to the Quartermaster’s office, several supply teams queue up to draw their weapons. When they see us, they part ways to let us through. Some soldiers salute us as we pass through them. None of the supply runs even goes remotely close to the city centre. The suicide squad passes through their lips. Some in awe, some shakes their head.

Five of us draw and pack the equipment listed on our notes. On my list, there is the metal pike I requested for, backpacks, nylon ropes, army rations, prickly heat powders and… condoms? Grey can’t serious. He’s not planning to fuck me on the mission, is he?

“Wipe that face, dirty boy.” Tristan smirks. “We use that to keep the muzzle dry.”

I blush and shrug, pretending the thought never occurs to me. Of course, the rifle won’t work in this wet weather if moisture gets inside. No wonder they keep condoms in the store. At their age, I doubt anyone can knock up Martha and Grace.

While the rest of them pack their equipment, I notice the young, red headed soldier standing on a ladder in a corner, examining at the air vent. He is the same ginger jarhead who calls Tristan a fag on the first day I came. He caught my stare and glares me with a disgusted look on his face. He reminds me of the typical redneck jerks in my school. I wonder where he went off to this morning when the rest of us are at the town hall.

“What is he doing?” I ask Tristan.

“Peter? He’s in charge of maintaining the air conditioning. Perishables will turn bad without it.”

He’s a young soldier like Tristan, petite like me. I thought about the night when the store got broken in. He looks slim enough to fit into the air vent. Last night, Grey seems to be in a heated argument with him. I wondered if he thinks the ginger jarhead is the thief and confronted him about it.

I turn to my brother and ask. “Why would someone steal medicine around here?”

“Only soldiers get free medical treatments. Civilians get it if they are injured during supply runs. Otherwise, a single pill of antibiotics costs twice as much as a day’s worth of meals. Not to mention that the Colonel knows that you’re sick and useless.”

Tristan explains a little about the medical systems here. In the early days, everyone gets treated, but the vulnerable and infirmed gets priority. Medicine runs out quickly and the policy obviously changed. The priority goes to the soldiers and able bodied men who go for supply runs. Since the red-head is a soldier, I don’t see why he should steal medical supplies.

Suddenly, Grace interrupted my thoughts. She said, “You boys know what this is?” She shows a red, rubbery device to Mark and me.

“A tourniquet?” I said.

“It’s a C-A-T. Combat application tourniquet.” She nods like an approving teacher. “Use it on yourself while I amputate you. It stops you from bleeding to death. Come, let me show you how.”

Grace asks Mark to extend his hand and get me to try it on him.

“Tighten it until I see his hand turns blue.” She instructs. While I’m doing it, she explains the procedure.

“Normally, you don’t use a tourniquet if you get bitten by a poisonous snake. Even though it helps to stop the venom from reaching your heart, your limbs will wither from the loss of blood flow. But if your hands or legs get bitten by the infected, you must use the tourniquet immediately before the virus gets into your brains. It won’t matter if the limb dies because I will have to amputate them anyway.”

She shows me how to hold Mark down while she performs the amputation. The morphine will take some time to work so he might hit out in pain. The other reason to hold him down is to kill him if he gets infected. Many combat medics die before they can save the bitten soldiers. I stare at the serrated teeth of the surgical saw and wonder how many limbs it has spliced. Mark turns pale as she gives us a very graphic demonstration of how to use the saw to make a clean amputation.

“We don’t want any bones jutting out. You got that?” She said.

He takes a deep breath and nods. So did I. We try to banish the grisly imagery from our heads. Thinking about it feels like it will jinx the mission. She frowns, obviously picking up our queasiness.

“If I die, you need to know how to do this on the rest. Did you understand?”

She explains, letting us know that she is not trying to scare us on purpose.

“Yes ma’am. Tourniquet, morphine jabs and saw.” I said.

After we practice the drills, Mark goes off to find Jody to finish up the instructions to set up the hydroponic racks and the new layout for the Green House terrace. Hopefully, we will get back before sundown and we can start work immediately.

Grace says she is going to help Grey pack the Ammonia nitrate bomb into the car and to set up the car pedal. Once he kicks the brick, the pedal will be stuck and set him forth towards collision. I’m surprised that Grey won’t care to do something like this by himself.

“Where is Grey?” I asked Grace before she leaves for the dumpster.

“He’s probably at the quarantine centre.” She said.

“Why is he there?” I ask, unsure if it is rude to ask. Grace gives me a coy smile. That means she won’t tell me. “Is this all right? I don’t mean to be rude, but shouldn’t Grey do this by himself?”

Grey obviously trusts and respects Grace. But it’s not fair to Grace to put his life in her hands. Imagine the guilt she will have to bear if the bomb sets off by mistake and kills him?

Grace shrugs as if the answer is obvious. She sounds like a housewife chiding her husband for choosing the wrong wallpaper. “Trust a woman’s touch when you pack a bomb. A man is far too sloppy.”

We share a smile. She is teasing me. Everyone probably thinks she’s just an ignorant, bitter housewife. She doesn’t let on who she really is.

“Why do you ask kid?” She says.

“I’m worried for Grey.” I mutter. Then I try to sound as polite as possible when I say, “And please, don’t call me kid. I’m already fifteen.”

A rare smile melts on her face. She looks almost heartbroken. I wonder if she is a mother too. I used that line on mom countless times.

Mom! Knock before you come in. I’m already twelve!

Mom! Stop telling me what to do. I’m fourteen.

She surprises me by giving me a hug, and then she says, “There’s nothing wrong being a kid. You are the youngest among us. And I’m the oldest. If both of us make it back alive, no one else has the excuse to die.”

“Is that why you volunteer, Grace? To give the rest hope?” I ask.

“No.” She said with her usual cold, set eyes. “I came to keep that boy from killing himself.”

She meant Grey. They obviously know each other for a long time for her to care about him. It’s weird to see Grace acting so tough yet motherly at the same time. I’ve never seen this side of her.

Before she leaves, she rubs the side of my arm gently and says, “Go look for him if you are worried.”

I nodded and stares at her figure disappearing down the hallway. Her frumpy dress, that curler hair and the scowl on her face, I wonder how much of that is an act to stay low and survive.

The people here seem to be so much more than they appear. Perhaps my age and inexperience makes me a poor judge. I know so little about the world other than my own eco-projects.

Maybe I’m wrong about the Colonel? Maybe he is a good person, forced to make extreme choices to survive. Sometimes, I might have seen or imagined myself seeing the muted pain when he makes a tough decision. Or he can be the tyrant I think he is. Mom always tells me to see the good in other people. I just hope he keeps his words.

At the southern end of the school, there is an isolated block that used to be the medical centre. Many people and soldiers are building a wall around this block. I find it really strange.

At first, I thought the wall constructions are to strengthen the southern fences. Apparently, it seems that they are fortifying this building alone. And I don’t know why they bother since no one live in the quarantine quarters.

Tristan told me that if you get sick, you are supposed to quarantine yourself in one of these dusty old cells until you get better. They don’t treat common flus or illnesses, only work related injuries. Antibiotics are running dangerously low. If you get caught spreading the cold, the Colonel will throw you out in a bat. The only ‘humane’ thing the Colonel does for the sick is to exempt them from the daily security tax of two hundred points.

In the early days, they have used too much medicine to treat injured soldiers or outbreaks on the old and the young who would’ve died anyway. Right now, you don’t get treatment unless you can afford the medicine. They only treat you for free if you get injured from a supply run. No wonder people resort to stealing.

I thought about Sharon, the pregnant woman who escaped with her husband to our apartment block. She must have thought about her unborn baby before she decides to take her chances out there. Although the current situation is dire, I felt that the Colonel is being myopic for not caring about the young. One day, the community will grow old and die out. Right now, he only seems to care about surviving our first winter.

But what about the old people? The thought suddenly came to my mind. They have little years left in them that’s worth saving. What will I do if I am the Colonel? Will I save the able-bodied men who can still scavenge and work? Or will I harden my heart like him, and leave the infirmed and vulnerable to their own fates? It is too disturbing and depressing to think about this. I pass the construction scaffolding and enter the block. A soldier asks me what is my business inside, and I told him I’m looking for my team leader. Fortunately, he didn’t ask me why he is in there. Grey is obviously not sick. I won’t know how to answer him.

The quarantine main office entrance is set up like a laboratory. But unlike the science lab, the test tubes and microscopes are actually working and filled with shit loads of chemicals and samples. This is one of the few places in the school that are powered by electricity.

A few empty beds with blood-stained sheets on the corner. A black gaunt man in a military uniform looks up from the microscope at me.

“You are not supposed to be here. Quarantine cells are outside.” He waves at me dismissively.

I have never seen this man before, not even at the town hall. From his rank, I can tell he is a major. That means, he is some big shot next to the Colonel.

“I’m looking for Grey… Sergeant Greyson. We are on a supply run.” I added his rank to sound like I have official business with him. I feel rather awkward, it’s like I’m stalking him.

The door behind the black man opens. Grey comes out and finds me standing there like a startled doe. His eyes are pained, as if guilt and conflicting choices has torn him apart. He seems to be looking at me, but not really looking. His eyes are dazed and almost unhinged. Then he looks like he suddenly remembers why he is there. He looks puzzled, probably wondering what I’m doing here. I wondered too.

Both of them wait for me to state my business.

“I erm… I just want to say… I just want to…” My tongue is tied. I want to check on Grey, but that sounds rather childish and embarrassing. We only met each other for a week and our interactions are limited to those rather creepy dress-up sessions. I wonder if he even considers me as a friend.

Somehow, Grey seems to understand my intention. A soft, sad smile appears on his face. “Come inside, Daniel.”

“No visitors except for you, Greyson. Walter’s orders.” The Major said. Despite his rank, he sounds rather friendly and non-officious like the other soldiers.

“I didn’t want anyone else to see her like this, Craig. The Colonel is just respecting my wishes.” Grey said.

I am surprised. Grey is always ‘Sir’ this and ‘Sir’ that to the officers. They sound almost like they are friends.

The black man doesn’t look very convinced by Grey. But he also doesn’t seem to care very much about the Colonel either. This is the first time I hear someone in this camp calling the Colonel by his name. This man either has a death wish like Grey or he doesn’t give a shit about him. He simply shrugs and goes back peering into the microscope.

“Get out before the guard comes back. You owe me twice.” He says.

Grey beckons me to follow him into the room. It is a narrow corridor leading down to a dark, damp basement. Cobwebs and dust filled the corners. The bottom is almost completely dark. There is only a small sliver of light from the slit beneath the door. The basement has a tiny room at the bottom. Grey opens the door for me to enter.

It is a horrific sight.

A figure, grey and mottled skin, is gagged and strapped onto the hospital bed. Tubes and needles inserted everywhere in the body. Her red eyes are open, but she looks heavily sedated. Slowly she turns towards us when we enter through the door. A single naked light bulb hangs above.

“Craig says she only turns when I visit. She doesn’t do that to anyone else. It’s like she still recognizes me.”

Eyes wistful.

He speaks softly as if he is afraid to disturb her rest.

The infected woman- Grey’s wife - made a stifled grunt. She could be snarling or crying, it’s hard to tell when she’s gagged. Her eyes are crazed and tortured even when she is sedated. It’s an unusual look for an infected since they always look ravenous and violent. But then again, I have never seen one up close or this sedated. She looks almost human in her vulnerability.

I didn’t know how to react. Am I supposed to greet her? Will she even care or understand me? All of the infected I came across are mindless monsters. Despite being sedated and strapped, my whole body is on edge just by being in the same room as her.

“He says the only way to find a cure is to test on them.” Grey mutters. I presume he is talking about the Colonel. “But every time I look at her, she seems to beg me to put her out of her misery.”

“Grey… the infected aren’t able to think.”

“How do you know that, Dan? You are not them.” He says.

He’s right, I don’t. But it’s easier to think of her as a mindless monster. Otherwise, I can’t imagine the pain mom has to go through, trapped under the car for more than a month, starving when she’s done eating what remains of dad.

Elena seems different from the other infected. Apart from being sedated, her skin isn’t as black and as scabby like the rest. She is grey, like how the infected looks when it all started. The infected hibernating on the streets is already black and mouldy. It’s as if their skin is covered with fungal growth. But it’s not any fungus that I have ever come across.

Grey stares at her while he speaks to me. “Everyday I fight myself, wanting to end her misery. But I am weak.”

Tears well in my eyes, I would have gone mad if it was mom. Will I allow them to do this, even if there is a remotest chance of a cure? As long as she lives in this tortured state, he can’t heal and move on.

“How did this happen?” I asked him softly.

Without looking away from her, he says, “I came back from supply run one day and there was another mutiny. Women were raped, the store was robbed. Soldiers firing at soldiers and at some point, the infected broke in. I searched everywhere for Elena but she was gone. I thought she ran away to look for me. It wasn’t until days later when we burn the dead bodies that the Colonel told me this happened.”

“I can end this for you.” I barely believed myself when I said it. Grey looks at me, and his eyes linger over his rifle for a second. Then he shook his head.

“The Colonel will kill you.”

“Can’t they test on someone else? This is so unfair to you.” I gasped.

“Who, Daniel? Every infected out there chained on the field is someone else’s friend or relative. Besides, the cocktail of antibiotics seems to slow down her mutation. Even if it isn’t a cure, it gives me some hope thinking about it.”

I refrained myself from saying anything. People are sick and dying but the Colonel uses all that medicine for this vain hope that this rag tag band of survivors can ever find a cure. Even if we do, who knows or is able to make these medicines anymore? The world is too far gone for cures. Or maybe, I’m just being selfish because mom and dad are already dead.

We hear footsteps outside the stairs. Craig steps out from the shadows and says, “The Colonel’s guards are coming, Grey. You should get out of here with the kid. You’re not supposed to be alone with her either.”

Is that why the Colonel asks me to spy on him? He doesn’t trust Grey or his men to let him carry on with his mad attempts for a cure?

Grey seems reluctant to leave. His body is turned but his eyes lingered on her. I reach out for his hands and gently tug him. It stirs him out of his reverie. Both of us leave the quarantine quarters together.

****

We set off at noon.

Hot sun bores down our skin. The air is thick and muggy from the rain last night. Grace packed the ammonia nitrate almost meticulously air tight. If the humidity gets in, the bomb won’t detonate and we will be swarmed by the infected from all corners.

Our rover leads the way into the city as planned. Our roaring engines wakes up every infected we pass by and they follow us like the pied piper. This is the third time we circle around this block and the horde could easily numbers in hundreds of thousands.

Both of my brother’s hands are on the wheels. He leaned forward, cold sweat drips from the sides of his face. We shuddered as he knocks over another infected on the road.

“Keep moving! Slow down and we’ll be swarmed.” Grace yells.

The massive horde covers our rear completely. Behind our armoured rover, Grey drives a rusty sedan packed full of explosives. The infected on both sides narrow towards our vehicles. Some made it close enough to claw at our moving windshields and windows. Our rover is armoured, but every time Tristan knocks one over, the glass shook dangerously.

So did our hearts.

We can’t afford to slow down. If the infected swarm us at the front as well, we will be surrounded and torn apart.

Tristan steps down on the pedal. The vehicle shook as it runs over an infected underneath the wheels.

“Don’t let them get below!” Grace said.

“I know! I know!” Tristan yells back. Our vehicle can afford to rock, but not Grey’s. If the bomb detonates in his vehicle, it will kill us as well.

Despite the yelling and the occasional run overs, Tristan didn’t lose his cool. There are a few times we come dangerously close to being circled in. He runs the vehicle into them like a juggernaut, clearing the way for Grey to follow us behind.

Beside us, ahead of us, the infected comes out from every buildings and street corners. We must have been circling around for half an hour before Grace decides it’s too dangerous for us to make another round.

“There’s enough of them on our tails. Move on with the plan.” She directs Tristan to take a left turn where the street is relatively clear. Only a few infected lying on the streets wakes up and join in the chase. Three blocks down the road, come a familiar sight. We are near the train station close to the supermarket where we had barricaded ourselves for a night.

A loud horn sounded behind us.

Our rover stopped.

All of us turned around. The sedan makes a three point turn and faces the approaching horde that are two blocks away.

The car paused for a minute.

My heart pounds like crazy.

I held my breath.

With a loud horn, the sedan dives full speed ahead towards the horde behind us.

“BACK! BACK!” Graced ordered. Tristan turns back our rover without even turning the vehicle around.

Fifty yards.

Sixty yards.

Grey rolls out from the moving sedan, onto the street. The stray infected starts to circle him.

“Stop the car and cover Grey!” Grace barks.

Tristan and Grace come out from the rover and start shooting at the infected approaching Grey. Meanwhile, the sedan is still set on collision with the approaching horde behind.

Seventy yards.

Eighty yards.

Tristan and Grace shoot to cover Grey. Mark and I defend the rover from the infected around us. He crushes their skull with a swing from his crow bar. My back facing him, impaling any infected with my pike straight through their eye.

Stab, kick, pull.

Stab, kick, pull.

Rinse and repeat. I lost count of how many infected I killed before our surrounding areas are clear. Then I realize something is wrong. The explosion didn’t happen.

I squint ahead. The sedan had dived straight into the horde no doubt. But their collective mass nulled the impact of the collision. It knocked down a few of them but it didn’t overturn or explode as we have expected.

Grey is shooting at the vehicle with his assault rifle. But by now, the vehicle is almost completely shielded by the fast approaching horde. It’s impossible to see the sedan. Instead of coming towards us, Grey move towards the horde instead. He is trying to get a clear shot at the sedan. At this range, even if he succeeds, he will be caught in the blast as well.

“No! Come back here!” I yelled at Grey.

“Tristan!”

All eyes snap on Grace. My brother and Mark are obviously panicking, but her voice is calm. “Stand on top of the rover. Aim the vehicle with your long range rifle. Fire at my command!”

She shoves her pistol at Mark as she gets into the car, horning loudly to get Grey’s attention. He turns around and sees Tristan standing on the top of our vehicle, pointing his sniper gun at the sedan. He is high enough to get a clear shot at it. Grey immediately understood her plans and started running back at us.

“Use the sniper scope.” Grace says firmly but slowly, “Take a deep breath, aim and wait.”

Grey is eighty five yards away from the sedan.

“Wait…”

Ninety yards.

“Wait.”

Ninety five yards.

“FIRE!”

With a shot, the entire street behind us blew up in flames. A deafening roar followed by a huge fireball engulfs the entire boulevard.

The ground shook.

The glass windows on the buildings shattered.

We shield our bodies from the debris, tiny shards scratched my skin.

We look up to find Grey. There is nothing but flames, dust and smoke ahead.

We can’t see beyond a few yards. In every street corner, the moans crescendos into a haunting chorus. All the infected inside this city is heading towards us from every direction.

“Grace!” It’s my brother’s voice. “What should we do?”

If we wait, we may get swarmed. We can’t tell how many are coming with the dust and smoke around.

And if we leave, Grey will certainly die.