Chapter 4: Two Million Dead

Chapter 4: Two Million Dead

The next hour was spent watching the news, checking social media, and fighting off exhaustion for as long as possible. Little changed, though the outbreak of mystery dog attacks was the main story on every station and news site. Any and every theory was put out there, ranging from frequencies beamed by the Chinese from spy satellites to enrage canines to an outbreak of medieval-styled mania leading to madness and self-mutilation.

James found his focus slipping. He knew he needed to sleep, that his body was exhausted, depleted on a fundamental level. What he needed was a substantial, savory meal with plenty of iron, and a good twelve hours of undisturbed rest. Instead, he kept sipping whiskeys and watching the TV with Herman as Serenity scrolled on her phone.

Dawn broke, though youd never know it down here. Casualty numbers were being revised by the hour. Emergency rooms were overflowing across the country with lacerated and bitten victims, while morgues in turn were at maximum capacity, with mobile units meant for pandemic deaths being used instead to house the murdered.

OK, enough. Serenity set down her phone.L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.

James blinked. Hed sunken into a stupor, warmed by the whiskey and lulled by the blood loss. He felt awful, but with a comforting blanket between him and the pain. Hmm?

Time for sleep. Im heading home. She paused, looking at him expectantly.

With effort he sat up. What?

How are we going to stay in touch? Where do you live?

Im between homes right now. A truth which had at turns been earnest excuse, then ironic deflection, then merely a dulled reflex. Ill find a corner.

Then how will I find you? Honey, weve got eighty-four hours till Nemesis 2 comes chomping our way. You think I want to face it alone in the ladys room again?

Thats three and a half days away. James rubbed at his eyes. But I understand what youre saying.

You were an EMT, right? Come crash at my place. You can make sure I dont bleed out. And dont I need to change these bandages at some point? I live across the street. You can crash with me.

Yeah. He roused himself further. You grab your antibiotics on the way out?

Nah. She finished her White Russian. Wanted to avoid the cops, remember?

Then we can share mine till we pick up yours and finish the full course. He stood, swayed. Was this the right move? Hell, anything was better than trying to find a corner to sleep in on a Tuesday morning. Herman, good meeting you.

And you, said the old man, tearing his eyes away from the screen. Be safe out there.

James followed Serenity out the door, up the steps, and then across the already busy traffic to a narrow door set beside a laundromat. Huge machines gleamed within, scores of patient looking people on their phones as they waited.

The doorway opened directly to a steep staircase, the walls off yellow, everything speaking of age and neglect. Serenity hurried up the stairs, fob of keys in hand, talking nervously all the way.

This place used to belong to my uncle, Uncle Max, he bought it back when they were giving places away in the 70s, and now its worth like almost a million dollars or something, but Maxie lives in Bermuda, can you believe that? Houseboat on a dock, hes sent me postcards, but he wont never invite me down. She unlocked the door, put her shoulder to it, shoved it open. I think he knows Id never leave.

James followed her inside. The place smelt of her. Smoke and booze, stale air and old food. The windows were covered by cheap roll-down blinders so that no natural light came in. Serenity turned on the lights, amber yellow, and turned to smile at him nervously again.

The place was a mess. The little corner kitchen had clearly been abandoned after the dirty dishes had overwhelmed the counter and sink. Clothing, magazines, Amazon boxes, all sorts of stuff lay everywhere as if a twister had torn through. Everything looked like it had been rescued from the curb. Old couch like a dead rhino, cheap prints on the walls, no dining table, one bedroom leading off the tiny living room. The rumble of washing machines came through the floor.

If Id known I was going to have guests Id have spruced it up a bit, she said, clutching her hands as she surveyed her home. Its normally much nicer.

Its great, said James. He forced a smile. Honestly. Youre lucky to have a place.

Yeah, thats what I tell myself. Coffee?

Im good. We need to sleep. Let me check your bandages, then we can take our meds and knock out.

Right, right. She hovered, uncertain, and James wasnt sure if she was trying to figure out how to make him comfortable or -

Im taking the couch, he said gently.

Complex emotions washed over her features. Relief? Disappointment? He couldnt tell. You sure? We could, you know. She shrugged one shoulder, smiled uncertainly. Its been a weird night. Like, really weird. Wouldnt mind some company.

He walked over to her, and when he placed his hands on her upper arms she flinched. Ill be right here. Best thing for us is sleep. Yeah?

She laughed in a brittle fashion. Sure. Doctors orders. Let me find you some sheets.

James sat on the couch and tiredly pulled his boots off, then sat with his hands between his knees, gazing at this reflection in the tiny flatscreen TVs dull surface. He should have taken more Stamina. He felt like a piece of steak that had been hammered into a thin sheet, like the Cubans did before breading and frying it. What was that dish called? Laneys favorite.

James blinked and banished that line of thinking. A moment later the bedroom door opened and Serenity came around, hesitant again. It was interesting. Shed been so casual at the bar. Now it was like she was another person. Or had shed a layer.

A graphical insert had appeared to the left of the anchorman, listing a series of directives.

We will be broadcasting this preliminary bulletin as prepared by the NSA every thirty minutes. The first and most important directive is to not acknowledge the initial communique when it appears in your field of vision. Doing so has been proven to trigger the Nemesis 1 aggressor, while leaving it unanswered will prevent it from appearing.

It cant be that simple, said James. This whole system cant be stopped by simply not acknowledging the attack.

But what if it can? asked Serenity. Youd have to live with those words in front of you at all times, but thatd would be better than having that little shit show up.

The anchorman was still speaking.

If you have acknowledged and defeated your Nemesis 1, know that there are reports coming in that the Nemesis 1s of those who did not survive can see and will attack you. As far as we can tell, acknowledging the message opens you up to all Nemesis 1s. Thus, if you have survived your attack, do not venture outside and remain somewhere safe.

"Third, Nemesis 1s will not attack those who have yet to be -

What? Serenitys voice rose an octave. We can be attacked by the others?!

James leaned forward, desperately trying to listen.

- meaning that you are safe as long as you have not initiated the attacks. Fourth, emergency services are currently overwhelmed, so we shall be following this announcement with a broadcast of how to provide aid to those who have been attacked and cannot get timely treatment.

James sat back, the icy ball in his gut expanding to flow into his veins, so that a general chill fell over him. Holy shit.

James? Serenity glanced from the screen to him.

He stared at the screen, then rose abruptly and moved to the window. Tugged at the blinder so that it rolled all the way up and looked out.

Barely any traffic was rolling by. The sound of sirens was constant. Otherwise the city looked quiet. He craned his neck, saw people hurrying along the sidewalks, almost everyone studying their phones. Fear on their faces.

We need to think, he said. I need to wake up. Can you get that coffee going? Im going to take a shower.

Serenity nodded jerkily and almost ran back to the kitchen. James paused to stare at the TV where a nurse was explaining how to handle bites and lacerations.

if the wounds are not life threatening or too deep, allowing the puncture or cuts to bleed for five minutes will wash out possible infectious agents

James shook his head and marched into the bedroom. A quick glance took in the full mattress lying on the floor, the huge pile of clothing in one corner, the magazine and coffee cups, the crooked lamp, the overflowing ashtrays.

He felt absolutely no judgement. Everyone did what they had to in order to survive.

The bathroom was tiny. He stripped, turned the water to blistering hot, and then got in and allowed the water to scour away a week of sweat and dirt. James availed himself of showers whenever he came across them, but as the years had rolled on, hed found himself content to shower once a week unless an accident happened. But each time he stepped into a good shower like this one he renewed his promise to do so more often.

His new reflex kicked in, and he checked the count down:

79 Hours till Nemesis 2 Released

His thoughts whirled like leaves before a storm wind. It was too enormous what was happening. But if the news was now talking honestly about the situation, it was because they had no choice. Too many deaths. Probably some serious officials had been attacked and survived, people whose accounts couldnt be dismissed as fanciful or manic. A critical mass of senators, congressmen, directors, and other people in power.

It took a serious crisis to risk general panic. The government was conservative in that way: always better to downplay a crisis until there was absolutely no choice.

Which meant the 100k death toll was probably way too low. How many died? Five times that number? Ten?

James ceased lathering himself up and stared at the grimy tiles. Mass panic meant people no longer going to work. And with no signs that this was about to stop, that meant that critical infrastructure would start to shut down. The power grid and water would only last a day or so if left unattended. The police were already at a breaking point, as were the hospitals.

But it was worse than that.

New York City had over eight million people living in it. Running the city was an everyday miracle. The sheer amount of food that was transported into the city each day, the amount of refuse that was shipped out - a disruption would see grocery stores stripped bare in hours and then not refilled.

James stepped back and stared at the water bursting forth from the shower head. If the water supply cut out, that would be millions with nothing to drink. If a person didnt hydrate, theyd be dead in days.

How many deaths could the city take before everything fell apart?

Wait, what was that noise? Trembling, rocked by these thoughts, James reached out and turned the water off.

Screams were coming from downstairs.