Playlist for the Apocalypse

Chapter 3: The Sound of Silence

EVELYN

In the cover of darkness, Evelyn packed up her camp and climbed down off the gas station roof. The threat of rain loomed on the horizon, but Evelyn pressed on simply because she dared not waste any more time. Her sense of direction was horrible, almost to the point of being ridiculous. It had always been beyond what most people meant when they identified as having a poor sense of direction and as a child, she'd been known to lose her way even in large houses. Her siblings would tease her of course, but aside from their playful remarks about her incompetence she never could have imagined the real consequences of her incapability. For too long, she'd been wandering the city, walking herself in circles, and searching the silent streets in vain. Evelyn had never liked silence. The truth was she'd never had much experience with it. She'd been homeschooled before going to university and her house was always full of sounds. Mama on her various teleconferences, her Baba bustling about in the kitchen, her siblings playfully bickering, even the sounds of her Popo's sewing machine rattling away in the basement had seemed to be a constant in her life. Now there was nothing butsilence and she decided that it left entirely too much time to be alone with one's thoughts. The only reprieve in the unbearable quiet was when Jonathan was on the air. She didn't know what he looked like, she'd never even met him but after months of listening to his voice she couldn't help but feel as though she knew him with his cynical outlook on life and endless dry humour. It was a foolish thought, and she knew she couldn't trust the feeling of false familiarity, but he'd been her only companion in this lonely new world.

Storm's coming. Evelyn realized suddenly taking note of the angry grey clouds congregating overhead. She knew she'd have to find cover soon. Vancouver weather was notoriously unpredictable, and from experience, she knew the danger that would come once the rain began to fall. She steered her bike off towards the nearest neighborhood. In the dark she carefully navigated fallen streetlamps and debris. She peddled quickly down a row of nearly identical townhouses until she found one that was in an acceptable state.

As she approached the front stoop, she adjusted her mask and goggles to ensure no part of her face was visible. She'd done this too many times to feel nervous but steadied her breathing anyway. She couldn't afford to slip up now, especially with the storm coming and no contingency plan. After a moment, she drew her firearm and nudged the door open on its creaking hinges. The door was scarred with some burns and bullet holes but otherwise the damage was superficial. She'd seen from the street that the door was open. It was seemingly counterintuitive, but she'd learned that it was a likely indicator that the soulless inside had vacated the premises, like an exit hole carved in a fruit abandoned by larvae. Locking the door had been a habit and the soulless that bothered to remember to return home almost always locked up. Her feet padded gently along the hardwood floor in careful, controlled steps. After a thorough inspection she concluded that apart from a soulless woman milling around the back patio by an empty garden box, the place was deserted. By now she could hear the heavy rain beginning to beat against the roof.

"Time to go to work." Evelyn thought, as she slung her shot gun over her shoulder.

Within 2 hours she had systematically barricaded every major entrance, and sealed every door in the house, not long ago this would have taken her more time but she was getting more efficient. With her surroundings finally secure, Evelyn pulled the mask and goggles from her face. The cold air was a shock to her skin, and she realized she didn't need to check the fuse box to know that there was no power or heating in the house. She went to the sink but was met with further disappointment, no running water. The wind and rain hammered on the windows outside, shaking the walls. Out of habit she reached into her backpack and pulled out her radio. After a moment of adjusting the dial, she finally found the channel she was looking for. 88.3 was filled with static so she took up exploring the kitchen and pantry. It was still too early for Jonathan's broadcast, but something about listening to the calming white noise of radio static and feeling the small flutter of hope that his voice might appear made her feel comforted. As with many "safe houses" that were soulless-free, the shelves were mostly bare. A few empty sandwich bags and a mini box of disappointingly stale cornflakes were all that remained. She reached into her backpack and pulled out the half can of beans from yesterday and sprinkled the cornflakes on top. She let out a laugh. She used to be so picky with food. She felt eyes on her back and stiffened. Apart from the white noise emanating from her radio, the house was quiet. She glanced up, the zombie from the back patio had taken an interest in her display of emotion and was now staring at her through the back window. Even with the deadbolt, three wooden boards and a heavy cabinet holding it in place, the sight of it standing there with its glassy, hollow expression was unsettling.

Suddenly a loud clap of thunder, caused Evelyn to jump. The soulless woman struggled forwards, bumping against the door as if it had forgotten that it couldn't phase through walls. Carefully, Evelyn shouldered her shot gun and crept towards the door. Death had been kinder to this corpse than others. Still in the early stages of decay, her skin was a faded grey colour as if she'd walked out of a 50's black and white film. She stared blankly into the void, bumping gently against the locked door. Evelyn's chest felt tight. Most of the world existed in this state now and she hadn't seen another living soul in weeks. She didn't dare let her mind wander to calculating the likelihood of her family's survival. They were alive. She was going to find them. She closed the lacy curtain over the glass.

Once she was certain she'd obscured the view of the Infected gardener, she seated herself on the counter with her can of beans listening to the buzz of radio static.

"Right... here we go... now...wait no, now we're transmitting." A garbled but familiar voice sounded over the speakers, "this is Jonathan Johnson. By some miracle, I'm broadcasting to you from Metrotown tower in the middle of a rainstorm..."

"What are you doing on the air in the middle of a rainstorm, moron?" Evelyn muttered under her breath as she picked at the cold can of beans.

"You might be thinking, Jon, what the hell are you doing on the air in the middle of a storm?"

Evelyn choked on her beans as her laugh turned into a cough.

"Well first I'd have to commend you on your excellent common sense, an area in which I'm clearly lacking. You're right, no one is listening, no one even knows that I'm here! Everyone is at the stupid colony social—just another reason why this day is the worst. Let's be honest and call Valentine's Day what it really is: the pinnacle of god-awful consumeristic holidays. You'd think in the apocalypse we'd have something better to do than be forced to consider our relationship statuses and unrealistic expectations. Call me a cynic but this holiday is less about love than it is giving people the freedom to be flashy, self-absorbed, trivial and absolutely cringe-worthy for 24 hours. But even though I may not matter, the music does. This is Jonathan Johnson on 88.3, hoping I can get one song on your airwaves before I call it a night."

The sounds of a heartfelt piano filled the air, followed by passionate vocals and a crescendo of soaring guitar solos. For a moment, Evelyn forgot about the cold can of beans in her hand and the thumping fist of the soulless waiting outside the window. It was a song about new love, uncertainty, instability, confusion, and longing. With every drumbeat, Evelyn felt a sense of déjà vu wash over her and she closed her eyes, praying that by removing one set of stimuli, her sense of hearing might be enhanced. The song was so familiar, yet she could not place where she'd heard it. Like a lost word on the tip of her tongue the name of the song's title kept evading her. Tears stung her eyes and embarrassed, she quickly wiped them away. There was no reason the song should be making her as emotional as it was. As the music swelled reaching its dynamic climax, a scream suddenly filled the air followed by the screeching clap of radio static. The noise forced Evelyn to drop the can of beans and clamp her hands over her ears to prevent them from being assaulted by the sound. The soulless, frenzied by her display of emotion were amassing and slamming against the door. The music disappeared into a sea of static.