Disintegration

14

Hollis and Lorna sat at the bottom of a dark staircase, their faces illuminated by the flickering light from half a dozen candles. Gordon stood in a doorway opposite, arms folded. It was late and although they were tired, no one wanted to sleep. Stokes, Harte, and Webb were standing out on the balcony at the front of one of the flats on the floor below, making plans to continue their cull at first light. Their muffled voices could be heard echoing around the large and predominantly empty building.

“I like your hair,” Hollis said unexpectedly. Lorna looked up and smiled momentarily before looking down again. She didn’t like it when he commented on her hair. She didn’t do it for anyone but herself. When Hollis paid her a compliment it made her feel like she was being chatted up by her uncle. She didn’t tell him. She didn’t want to upset him.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

“You always make an effort,” he said. “You always look good.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“No reason,” he quickly backpedaled, worried he’d offended her. “I’m down to one shave a week.”

“Just because I feel like shit, doesn’t mean I have to look like shit, does it?”

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean that you should…”

Nearby, Gordon looked away, embarrassed for Hollis. He was relieved when Caron appeared at the top of the staircase, carrying another candle. Taking care with her footing she slowly made her way down.

“How’s she doing?” Hollis asked, his whispered words amplified by the silence. Caron had spent the evening sitting with Anita. She shook her head and sat down.

“Not good,” she replied, her voice weary and low. “She’s worse than ever tonight.”

“What is it?” Lorna asked, knowing full well that Caron knew as little as she did. “Is she still being sick?”

“Nothing left for her to throw up,” she answered, “and she hasn’t eaten anything today. I tried to get her to take some water but she couldn’t.”

“I don’t like this,” Gordon said nervously. “It’s like a tropical disease or something. It’s come from the bodies, it must have. There are flies and maggots and germs out there and—”

“Shut up, Gord,” Hollis snapped, silencing him. “You’re not helping.”

“But it could spread. We might all end up catching it. For all we know she might—”

“I mean it. Shut up, Gord,” he warned again.

“I read something in a magazine once about outbreaks of disease after natural disasters,” Caron said, cutting across them both. “Can’t remember exactly what it said. Someone did a study after an earthquake or something like that when there were lots of bodies lying around.”

“And?” Lorna pressed.

“Didn’t pay much attention to it at the time,” she admitted. “I didn’t think I needed to. Wasn’t the kind of article I usually read.”

“Well, do you remember anything useful?”

“I think it said most germs were spread through direct contact with the bodies or through contaminated water. They weren’t airborne, I don’t think.”

“That’s just perfect,” Lorna moaned. “We’ve spent most of the day ankle deep in their shite.”

“Yeah,” Hollis said quickly, “but most of it was on the suits, and all of it got washed off, didn’t it? And we collect rainwater, don’t we. We should be okay.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing. I doubt if any of us have caught anything.”

“How do you know? Anita has.”

“So how did she get it?” Gordon asked, clearly agitated. “She hasn’t been outside for ages. She’s been drinking the same water we have.”

“She might have had it before she got here,” Hollis replied, clutching at straws. “Maybe it takes a few weeks to show itself? Or she could have just got unlucky and eaten something that was contaminated.”

“I don’t like this,” he grumbled. “What if we catch it off her?”

“Then we’ll just have to deal with it, won’t we.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?”

“We’ll try and get her some drugs and keep her isolated. That’s all we can do for now.”

“But what if that doesn’t work?”

“For Christ’s sake, what do you expect me to do about it? Do you want me to go down to the edge of the crowd and see if any of the bodies used to be a doctor? Bloody hell, Gordon, just get a grip!”

“He does have a point, though,” Lorna said.

“I know he does,” Hollis admitted.

“We can’t just let her lie up there like this, can we?”

Hollis shook his head and stood up. He slowly paced away along the corridor, but then stopped and walked back. He stopped a short distance away where the light from the candles was just strong enough to catch the outline of his tired face.

“Maybe a couple of us should go out tomorrow and try to find her some drugs,” he suggested again. “Get some antibiotics or something. Hopefully that’ll do the trick.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Gordon shouted after him as Hollis walked away and disappeared into the darkness.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” his fading voice replied.