Playlist for the Apocalypse

Chapter 10: London Calling

EVELYN

The sun had just dipped below the horizon when they finally reached the intersection between Boundary Road and Southeast Marine Drive. While Evelyn had heard about other survivor colonies, mostly from Adam's reports, she'd never imagined they'd look the way River District did. The place was a fortress and resembled something out of a Hollywood movie. The entire community was gated by high walls built using stacked shipping containers. The entrance tunnels were visible, three long shipping crates stretching out from the barrier like the spokes of a wagon wheel. As they drew nearer, Jonathan bundled up the earbuds and Walkman and shoved them back into his pocket.

"Home sweet home," he said roughly.

Evelyn followed him as they picked their way over the debris towards the entrance. The sound must have reached her ears before his because he looked completely caught off guard when she stopped suddenly and then tackled him to the ground behind a broken-down car near the first tunnel.

"Shhhh," She hissed sharply.

He did as he was told, but by the way he tilted his head, she realized that by the time he knew what she was referring to, the sounds of shouting and jostling in the tunnel were too close for comfort. Evelyn pressed herself down against the rusting car. She could see her shallow breaths turning to mist in the air, and she did her best to even out her breathing. She glanced up at Jonathan, crouching beside her, he had two fingers pressed against his throat. He was checking his heart rate, she realized. Though his breathing was steady she could see the muscles in his jaw tensing beneath his mask. Following his lead, Evelyn felt for the pulse on her wrist. Her hands were shaky and clammy but soon she found it. She took a deep breath, and then another, and another. No big emotions.

The sound of a heavy lock was turned, and the door to the entrance burst open. A middle-aged woman with stringy blonde hair tumbled out, followed by two intimidating-looking military personnel in black armor.

"No, no, no!" The blonde woman was screaming, her voice was gravelly and strained as if she had spent hours shouting at the top of her lungs. She bore the marks of those newly turned: cloudy eyes that looked as if she suffered from cataracts and pale flushed skin. Her hair was thin as if she had been tearing it out and long scratches were visible up and down her arms which matched the stains on her fingernails. Her mouth overflowed with saliva as she continued to bawl, and her bloody hands raked across the ground as she tried to claw her way back towards the entrance. The guards forced her back with two blunt lances.

Evelyn felt her breath coming quickly again. As much as she had heard, she had never seen with her own eyes what it looked like before someone had become completely soulless.

"I'm sorry, Martha," The taller of the two soldiers said solemnly, as she batted Martha back with the metal lance.

"I'm sick! I'm just sick! I'm not dangerous, I'm sick! No one believes me!" Martha begged struggling to swallow the abundance of saliva foaming from her mouth, "it's a cold!"

"You attacked him, you attacked Ben." The shorter soldier said gruffly, his voice was cold, "Remember that?"

Martha shook her head violently, "I would never! Ben is my husband. Ask him! He'll tell you the truth! I would never hurt anyone!"

"Ben is dead." The soldier said. Martha blinked then twitched as if she were short circuiting. Her head shifted at an unnatural angle to the right as if the information did not compute. The twitching quickly dissolved into larger body shakes and Martha collapsed to the ground, seizing uncontrollably. The two soldiers pulled back, both drawing their firearms. Martha's body suddenly went limp. The shorter soldier's finger twitched over the trigger.