The Other Life

  I let my gaze stray over the water, searching the horizon for something. “Maybe they’re still out there.”

  “They would’ve run out of food long ago. I don’t think they could’ve stayed on the ships for three years. Let’s search the area.” Joshua changed the subject, tearing me from my thoughts.

  We walked around the deserted harbour, guns ready. The rain had lessened. There were only scattered raindrops now.

  The size of the harbour, with its many warehouses and containers, complicated our search. There wasn’t a sign of the Weepers, but we didn’t check every container or warehouse, not even half of them. It would have taken us for ever and it was time we didn’t have – Dad might be dead soon. But I couldn’t allow myself to think about that.

  My fingers shook, but I didn’t loosen my grip on the gun. The Weepers could be hiding anywhere. Even on one of the ships.

  The six-storey building in front of us looked even shabbier than the rest. Most of the white paint had peeled off, leaving a dirty grey. Even before the rabies had forced people to leave everything behind, this building must have been vacant. It looked like it had been offices for a shipping company.

  A trail of blood led inside. Red. Fresh. It looked as if someone had been dragged into the building recently.

  Suddenly, Joshua grabbed my arm in a crushing grip and dragged me towards him. Air rushed from my lungs in a gasp as his chest collided with mine. He pressed us against the rough facade of the building, his body tense. I frowned at him and opened my mouth, but he put his index finger against my lips. The touch made my stomach flip. Our chests were pressed against each other so tightly, I could feel his heartbeat. I craned my neck to get a glimpse of his face. His blond hair was plastered to his forehead, the colour almost amber because of the wetness. Lines of worry showed around his lips.

  It started raining more heavily again. The raindrops lashed against my face. Joshua leaned down and spoke quietly, his mouth brushing against my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin.

  “They’re in there. I saw one of them moving past a window on the second floor. It’s a nest.”

  I gulped noisily and stared up at him with wide eyes. “Do you think my father’s in the building?” I whispered.

  “Perhaps. We need to get inside and search the rooms.”

  I let out a shaky breath. The image of someone bleeding to death flashed in my mind. I couldn’t let myself think it was Dad.

  Joshua stepped back, giving me room to move. He crept along the facade, staying as close as possible to the building. I followed, trying to make no sound, but my stupid sneakers squeaked. I winced every time they did. My feet practically swam in them. What if the Weepers heard the noise?

  We crept around the building to the back. There was a fire ladder leading up to the flat roof, but it didn’t look stable. Joshua gestured to the ladder. I gave a small nod to show I’d understood. I looked up at the entire length of it – it looked as if a gust of wind could pull it from the wall.

  Joshua started climbing with a look of determination, his steps not faltering even when the ladder creaked. I grabbed the handrail in a death grip, its steel cold against my skin, and followed after him. Within a few moments, I had caught up. My heart hammered in my chest, and every groan of the metal went right through me. A few times my sneakers slipped on the wet rungs, but I kept my balance and didn’t fall.

  We’d reached the third floor when the ladder creaked like it was going to fall apart. One of the rungs was loose and gave way beneath Joshua’s foot. We both froze and listened. It was silent. Had the Weepers heard the rung snap?

  We reached the roof within a few minutes. From there, we were able to look out over almost the entire harbour. In the distance, near one of the dockyards, I could make out movement.

  Weepers?

  I strained my eyes, but it was too far away to say for sure. I spotted an emergency exit on the other side of the roof and pointed at it to alert Joshua. He nodded, and began to sneak towards it. I followed, careful to keep my shoes from making a sound, and halted a few steps behind him. He wound his fingers around the handle of the door and pulled it open slowly. I held my breath and peeked into the building, half expecting a Weeper to pounce on me. Nothing but silence greeted us. A narrow staircase led to the floors below. We entered the building and closed the door, Joshua wincing as it clicked shut. I wiped the raindrops from my face with the back of my hand.

  “We need to be absolutely silent. If they notice us too soon, everything might be over,” Joshua whispered, his eyes darting down the stairs.

  “Okay.” I sounded as if I’d run a marathon.

  We moved down the steps. The only light was coming from small windows along the stairway, but it was enough for us to make out our surroundings. I would see if something attacked us. At least, I hoped I would.

  We got to the sixth floor and moved through a long corridor with dozens of doors. The linoleum floor muffled our footsteps. Dried blood covered parts of it. I was getting used to the sight. The humidity was stifling and the smell of wet dog hung in the air. I scrunched up my nose in disgust.

  “We should stay together.” Joshua cast a worried look at me.

  I gave a nod.

  It took us nearly twenty minutes to peer into every room. They weren’t furnished, so nothing could have hidden in them. No sign of humans.

  On the fifth floor we didn’t have much more luck.

  We’d never find Dad like this. Side by side, Joshua and I stepped onto the fourth floor. The smell of wet dog and bodies was stronger here. I glanced at Joshua. He pressed a finger against his lips.

  A whimper from nearby startled me, and I fumbled with my pistol. It had sounded like a human – like a scared child. My throat tightened and it became difficult to swallow. Joshua crept towards the door closest to us and opened it a crack. After a moment he shut it with a shake of his head and moved to the next door. I followed and chanced a look past him into the next room.

  A scream stuck in my throat. I scurried backwards until I bumped against the wall behind me, my pistol raised.

  Joshua didn’t move. He pointed his gun steadily at the Weeper that lay curled up on a stack of papers. It was breathing, but it seemed fast asleep. Or maybe it was just pretending to be asleep. It was wearing torn trousers, pinstriped with a crease. They might have belonged to a nice business suit once, many years ago. Bloody marks and scars littered its hairy back, and blotches of purple flesh peeked through the fur where skin had fallen off. I couldn’t see its face, but I was sure it was more beast than human. I felt sad that a virus could turn a human being into a soulless monster. It would most likely kill us if it knew we were so close. It wouldn’t show us pity, because it wasn’t in its nature. Pity and compassion were human traits that Weepers had shed like their skin.

  We should shoot it.

  I stared at the sleeping creature again. It had been like Joshua and me once. Maybe I’d even known it.

  It wasn’t its fault. As long as it didn’t attack us, I wouldn’t be able to end its life. I couldn’t.

  I lowered my gun, but I didn’t move from my place against the wall. Joshua stared at the Weeper too. Would he kill it?

  Should I let him?

  I hesitated.

  To my surprise, he closed the door and turned to me.

  “Too loud,” he mouthed, with a nod to the revolver in his hand.

  Of course. Every Weeper in the building would have heard a gunshot.

  We tiptoed towards the next door. Fortunately, my sneakers had stopped squeaking. But my foot hurt with every step.

  A door creaked, and I froze, but Joshua gripped my arm and pulled me against him. We pressed back against the door we were about to check next. The Weeper with the business suit stood in the corridor, a few steps away from us. It had its back to us and its breathing filled the silence with rattling pants, as if it had been a chain smoker in its other life. Every heave of its body made strips of dead skin sway.

  The
door frame was narrow and wouldn’t hide our presence if it turned around. It didn’t move, just stood there and stared down the corridor from where we’d come. I heard it sniff.

  What if it smelled us?

  I looked up at Joshua. His chest heaved against my back and his grip on my arm didn’t loosen. He aimed the revolver at the Weeper.

  A shuffling drew my focus back to the beast. It had taken a step back, closer to us. The dead skin looked like it belonged to a snake, and its spine looked strange. The vertebrae were too big and pushed against the skin as enormous white bumps. With every intake of breath they got more prominent, as though they might poke right through.

  Like Karen had said, this wasn’t just rabies. I’d seen dogs with rabies and they’d been aggressive and out of their mind, but they were still dogs. Rabies hadn’t changed what they were. But this virus turned its victims into something else entirely.

  Weepers were neither human nor animal. They were something other. Something wrong.

  A howl sliced through the silence. I jumped, my head colliding with Joshua’s chin, the clunk loud to my ears. The Weeper straightened and responded with a similar noise before it dashed away and disappeared from our view.

  We stepped out and Joshua rubbed his chin.

  “I’m sorry,” I mouthed.

  A whimper sounded in the corridor, setting my teeth on edge. It was coming from one of the doors further down the hall. Joshua and I exchanged a look and ignored the doors next to us. We hurried towards the whimpers and stopped in front of a white door. At least, it had been white once – now there were bloody handprints all over it.

  The noises were getting louder. Desperate whimpers. They were coming from behind the door. I reached for the handle and pushed it down, but it was locked. Damn it! Stupid door. I jiggled the handle with more force. It didn’t budge.

  I kneeled down and peeked through the keyhole. All the air left my lungs. There were people in the room. Three, from what I could see, but my view was limited.

  One of them looked like Dad, slumped against the wall with his eyes closed; a mat of red hair and a shiny freckled chest. Was it really him? Was he alive?

  40 hours and 3 minutes of hoping and worrying and wishing. It seemed too good to be true.

  I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. My heart thudded wildly in my chest.

  “My dad – I think he’s in there.” My throat was painfully dry, I could barely speak, and my tongue got stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  Joshua got down on his knees beside me and peered through the keyhole. He shook his head, twisting his hair in his fingers. “There’s three of them in there. They’re probably badly injured. We can’t save them all.”

  I pressed my lips together, trying to hold back tears. “We can’t leave the other two behind!”

  “We’ll have to kick down the door, unless you have a better idea. The Weepers will hear and then they’ll be after us. We won’t have much time. If those people can’t run on their own, they’ll need our help and we won’t be able to hold up more than one person each.” His eyes took in my face. What was he looking for?

  My mind was a mess. I couldn’t think straight. There must be a way to save them all. “Can’t you try to open the door with your knife? I’ve seen it on TV.”

  “We can give it a try.”

  Joshua pulled the knife from the sheath at his waistband and pushed the tip into the lock. He twisted it a few times, but nothing happened.

  A noise on the floor below made us both freeze. We stared at each other, holding our breath. It sounded as if something was coming up the stairs.

  “Move back,” Joshua ordered. I rose from my kneeling position and took a few steps back. What was he doing?

  “We don’t have time for experiments,” he hissed. He pointed the revolver at the door and shot twice. Then he kicked against it and it swung open. Every Weeper in the building knew we were here.

  Joshua and I stormed into the room. The smell of decay made me retch. My gaze swept over two rotting bodies. Maggots covered them, digging their fat, round bodies into the fleshy skin. If we’d found them sooner…

  No time for this.

  For them it was too late. The other survivors could still be saved.

  It was Dad!

  After 2,403 minutes, our search was over.

  I rushed towards him. We’d really found him. My heart pounded as I shook his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, but it took a moment before they focused on me.

  “Sherry?” he croaked.

  I gave him a weak smile. Relief. I wound my arm around his back. “Can you walk?”

  He stared at me as if he couldn’t believe I was there. As if he was scared of it.

  “Hurry up!” Joshua hissed.

  I straightened up and helped Dad to his feet. He leaned heavily on me and I could barely support him. His right leg was covered in blood and a long gash ran across his upper thigh. The entire trouser leg had been ripped off. The skin was swollen and glaring red.

  Joshua tried to wake a middle-aged man who lay on his back, mumbling incoherently. His face and chest were covered with wounds, blood and pus oozing from them. A few maggots had started feeding on him. Joshua gave up after a moment and wrapped his arm around a young woman with black hair who sat next to the man. She was thin and weak, but I couldn’t make out any serious injuries.

  Beside them, another man, maybe in his early thirties, rocked back and forth on his heels, his eyes wide and terrified. His brown hair was plastered to his forehead. He was able to stand and walk alone. Thank God – neither Joshua nor I could have helped him.

  I followed Joshua, the woman and the man out of the room. Dad tried to use his injured leg, but he winced every time. His skin felt impossibly hot. A fever. Or something worse. I couldn’t think about that possibility now.

  Footsteps rang out. Something was running in our direction. I accelerated my pace. Dad gasped for air, but I couldn’t slow down.

  Joshua began shooting behind him while he led the woman through the corridor. We were heading in the opposite direction from where we’d come.

  I looked over my shoulder. Only three Weepers were following us. They were closing in fast, running upright like humans. But the noises coming from them weren’t human at all. Their roars sent shivers down my back. I pointed my pistol, fired, and hit one of them in the stomach. It whined and fell to its knees, clutching its middle. Blood ran over its hands. I looked away. I hated doing this, hated this new world for forcing me to kill something. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t bother wiping them off, didn’t even dare look at my hands for fear of seeing blood on them.

  We got to the window at the end of the corridor. It led out to a platform and another fire ladder. Joshua opened the window and gestured for the man to go first. The roars were nearer now. I didn’t dare check how close the Weepers were.

  I helped Dad onto the narrow platform, holding his arm the entire time in case he lost his balance. Heavy raindrops lashed us, soaking our clothes. We were four floors up. Joshua was still shooting bullet after bullet while I helped the woman out. She swayed and grabbed onto the railing.

  The platform didn’t provide enough room for all of us. The brown-haired man stepped onto the ladder and began his descent. I followed. Dad was above me and grimaced with every step. He kept skidding on the slippery metal. The woman was a few steps above him – she wasn’t faring much better. If they fell, they’d take me down with them.

  Joshua stopped shooting and began climbing down the ladder.

  “Are they gone?” I called up to him.

  “Yes, but there’ll be more,” he shouted over the wind. It had picked up and blew my hair against my face, obstructing my view and catching in my mouth.

  A snarl sounded beneath me. My eyes darted down.

  Two Weepers waited for us on the ground.

  “Sherry, pay attention!”

  I sat up with a start, the gun almost slipping from my grasp.

  Dad poi
nted ahead. “There. Do you see them?”

  A few quails were searching the clearing for food. I gave a nod.

  “Take aim, make sure your hand isn’t shaking, then pull the trigger.”

  I’d heard those instructions dozens of times, memorized them.

  It was easy. Just a few actions.

  And yet I couldn’t move.

  The quails moved towards the shrubbery. So unsuspecting.

  “Sherry, fire. They’ll be gone soon.”

  I raised my gun. Took aim. Just a small twitch of my finger, then the quail would be dead.

  It looked up as if it could see me, but we were too well hidden.

  Run. Just run, you stupid chicken.

  “Sherry!”

  I flinched. A shot rang out, tearing through the silence.

  Startled quails scuttled into the bushes.

  “You missed them on purpose, didn’t you?” Dad looked at me, a smile in his eyes.

  Misty brown eyes locked on mine, pus-like liquid welling from its tear ducts and smudging its papery skin. Its face showed no emotions, only hunger and greed. There was nothing human about it. One of the Weepers snarled and flung itself at the ladder. The vibrations went right through me. My fingers clawed at the rain-slicked handrails. The second beast followed. Another jolt went through the fire ladder.

  Too much.

  The ladder tipped, its metal supports breaking from the wall.

  “Hold on!” Joshua screamed. I hooked my arm around the handrail. My temples began to pound.

  Tremors jolted the ladder. God, what could we do?

  A scream tore through the rain. The man! His grip on the handrail loosened, his panicked eyes on the Weepers beneath him.

  “No!” The cry rang in my ears.

  It was too late. He fell down the ladder and landed on the concrete with a sickening crack. He lay sprawled out on the ground, his eyes wide and lifeless. A puddle of blood spread around his head. Purple on grey. My muscles slackened and my grasp on the handrail loosened.

  Be strong.

  My fingers closed around the metal. I aimed my pistol at the Weepers, then shot twice. They ducked and the bullets missed.