Shaun Harbinger: Wildfire: Destruction of the Dead

The morning sun peeked through the high clouds and cast a cold light over the distant cliffs and beaches. Standing on the deck of The Big Easy , the metal of the safety railing cold against my palms and the boat rolling easily on the gentle waves, I felt a heavy dread in the pit of my stomach. I was trying to remember why I had volunteered to distribute the antivirus to the survivors on the mainland.

I should run from the danger that lurked beyond those cliffs, not willingly go toward it. Any sane person would turn the boat’s nose out to the open sea and give the engines full throttle until the coastline was nothing more than a bad memory.

If it weren’t for the fact that my brother, Joe, and my parents were alive somewhere on the mainland, I wouldn’t hesitate to flee to the relative safety of the sea.

But as long as there was a slim hope of finding my family, I couldn’t run. I had to fight. I had to risk my life in a land infested with zombies and hybrids until I found the people I loved. Leaving Joe and my parents to their fate was not an option.

A few yards from where I stood, a big seagull dropped into the water with a splash, then took to the air again with a small fish wriggling helplessly in its beak.

I turned away from the sea and distant cliffs and went through the door that led to the boat’s living area. Lucy was still asleep in our bedroom below deck so I decided to surprise her with breakfast. After all, today was the day we were due to return to Apocalypse Island. They should have made the first batch of antivirus by now and have it ready for distribution.

I might as well make our final morning pleasurable in some small way, even if that small pleasure was just a plate of hash browns, canned tomatoes, and sausages. For the past three days, we had tried to enjoy ourselves by lounging on the deck, eating meals with Sam and Tanya either on the Easy or the Escape , and singing along to Survivor Radio.

Listening to the radio was bittersweet; on the one hand it provided us with music and a reminder that there had once been a time that was more carefree. On the other, it reminded me that Johnny Drake was dead, his body ripped apart by Vess at Site Alpha Two.

And although none of us mentioned Apocalypse Island or the job ahead of us, it seemed to hang like an unspoken secret in the air, always present and fast-approaching as the days passed too quickly.

I turned on the radio as I reached the kitchen area. Don Henley was singing about the boys of summer. Taking the hash browns and sausages from the freezer, I sang along. I was way out of tune but didn’t care.

The frying pan clattered on top of the stove as I set it down too heavily. Hoping it hadn’t woken Lucy because I wanted her to get as much sleep as she could, I then added a little oil and turned up the electric ring beneath the pan.

When the oil was hot, I added the hash browns and sausages. They sizzled in the pan and the smell made my mouth water. There was once a time when I would have cooked this much food just for myself, and then spent the rest of the day sitting in front of the TV watching movies or playing games. I had fought digital zombies in The Last of Us , The Walking Dead , and Day Z . I had “died” many times in the games but there had always been another life, another chance.

Now I was living the harsh reality of what had once been a pleasurable pastime. There was no second chance, no reset button.

The world had gone to hell, or at least this part of it had. According to Sam and Tanya, the virus hadn’t reached America. If that was true, and only Britain was affected, I wondered what the rest of the world was planning to do about the situation.

They must know what was happening from satellite images. Those images would show the zombie hordes and the destruction and death they left in their wake. They would also show the military encampments and positions that had been set up by the army as they tried to take control of the chaos.

Would the foreign leaders try to help us, or would they think, To hell with it and bombard us with nuclear weapons instead, killing everyone and everything, alive or undead, just to be safe? They couldn’t risk the virus reaching their shores. If protecting themselves meant killing innocent people and turning Britain into a nuclear wasteland, I was sure they wouldn’t lose much sleep over it.

Lucy appeared at the doorway and waved at me. Her expression and posture as she came into the living area said that she was still sleepy. Her blonde hair was pinned up into a messy bun. She wore the oversized ‘Sail To Your Destiny’ T-shirt that she sometimes slept in. As she padded barefoot across the carpet to the sofa, she said, “That smells good.”

“I thought we should have a good breakfast,” I said, “since we don’t know when we’ll get a chance to eat properly again.” I wanted to add, “If ever” but I restrained myself. Lucy knew as well as I did that this could be the last time we both stood here on The Big Easy . We had seen too much death to take anything for granted.

She nodded and dropped onto the sofa, turning her head away from the morning light streaming in through the windows, her eyes half-closed.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I’m just not a morning person. You know that.”

I did. I also knew that she had recently been bitten by a zombie and had been in danger of turning into one of the undead. She’d been injected with the faulty vaccine and then with the new antivirus. It was understandable that she might suffer side effects from that experience.

As if reading my mind, she looked over at me and said, “I’m fine, Alex. Really.” She got up and came into the kitchen. “I’ll make coffee.” She turned on the electric kettle and began to spoon instant coffee and sugar into two mugs.

On the radio, Don faded out to be replaced by 10cc singing “I’m Not In Love”.

I sighed and concentrated on the hash browns and sausages sizzling in the pan. Unlike the singers in 10cc, I was finding it difficult to deny my feelings for Lucy.

I had always liked her, and she was the reason I had gone hiking in Wales with Mike and Elena. But my feelings for Lucy then were no more than a powerful physical attraction. Powerful enough to get an out-of-shape gamer-geek like me onto the Welsh mountains, sure, but still only a physical attraction.

We had been through a lot together since the day the zombie apocalypse began and now shared a strong emotional bond. I hadn’t realized just how strong until we had been separated. I had risked my life to get a message to Lucy, and then risked it again to get the chemical that was needed for the antivirus that could save her from being turned. And it had all been worth it.

She turned away from the boiling kettle and poked me in the ribs playfully. “Why are you up so early, anyway? You don’t like mornings any more than I do.”

“Ouch,” I said, moving aside to avoid her jabbing finger.

“That did not hurt, Alex.”

“It did. Stop poking me and concentrate on making the coffee,” I joked.

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been chased by zombies, shot at by the army, and almost eaten by patient zero but you’re afraid of my little finger?”

“Yep,” I said, nodding and backing away.

She held her index finger in front of my face, a mischievous look in her eyes. “This is what scares the brave Alex Harley?” Lunging forward, she tried to jab me in the ribs again.

I stepped backward quickly, slapping her hand away. “I’m not brave,’ I said, continuing to back into the living room.