PANDEMIC: By Conan Young
Saturday, July 31st, 2010That first night, he woke to the sounds of snarls and helpless lowing from the livestock pens. Blood and ragged scraps of offal were strewn everywhere. The creatures had done such a thorough job. At the time, his only concern was that it would take him years to recoup his losses. How trivial such matters were now.
Jean could never fathom the lacerating effect tragedy had on people’s lives, until he’d experienced it firsthand. To lose his livelihood and family in one swift stroke was something he’d expected to happen to someone else. Little did he realize that he and everyone he cared about were all ’someone else’ to other people.
The thought of vengeance spurred him on. Jean hadn’t lost everything yet. No, he still had something to fight for. The villagers were all depending on him. He couldn’t turn back, not after what he’d already sacrificed. His wife Adrienne and his daughter Daphne—the visages that peered back at him from memory were savage and bestial, like all the others the creatures had bitten. Anything human that remained was gone by the time Jean, through a torrent of tears, released them from their misery with silver bullets between the eyes.
Vast bonfires still raged, rendering shadowy stripes across the forest floor. A damp breeze carried the nauseating smell of burning flesh to his nostrils. Jean knew it was a necessity. They had to burn the corpses to keep the infection from spreading.
“I’ve found tracks!” his companion Boniface called out.
“Good, that creature has nowhere to hide.” Nervous fingers released the snap to Jean’s holster. “Take out the Alpha and the pack soon follows.”
Boniface nodded. His determined expression said it all. He would sacrifice himself to save his friends, if it came to that. His only living relative, his ailing grandfather, was among the first victims of infection. The transformation was so sudden, not even Jean could stop the frenzied beast from breaking into his home.
However, Jean couldn’t blame Boniface for what happened. He had to stay focused. Tonight they would eradicate the threat or die trying.
The trail led to a tunnel that breathed out a midnight mist. No human hands had excavated this structure. Brittle animal bones that littered the entrance crunched underfoot as Jean thrust his lantern ahead.
In the deepest recesses of the burrow they found its sole inhabitant. Nothing, not even the hulking mass of muscle, fur, and fangs would intimidate Jean now. He stared down the yellow orbs that bored into him for daring to trespass.
The creature was fast. Jean was faster.
Five revolver shots and a shotgun blast from Boniface were all it took. Jean stood triumphant over the beast and aimed his last chambered round between its eyes. Blood trickled from its lips, which moved over chattering teeth. It drew strained breath into lungs like perforated bellows.
Was it trying to form human speech?
“Sealed…” it growled, “fate.”
The audacity of this monster blinded Jean to coherent thought. He jammed his gun barrel into its forehead and pulled the trigger.
“We have to burn the den. Leave no trace behind.” Jean gave the creature one last look before tossing his lantern. Fuel splashed and hungry flames enshrouded its body. The plume of smoke that rose from the burrow entrance was the final exclamation mark on the darkest chapter of Jean’s life.
Praise. Adulation. Hero that saved the village.
No, this isn’t right. None of this is right.
There was no chance to atone for regrets that raged with fevered delirium. Without the immunity the creatures possessed, the remaining villagers were defenseless when the bubonic plague swept across the countryside. Children and the elderly were the hardest hit. One third of the population had already perished.
Jean lifted his revolver from its holster with his last ounce of strength. He unloaded the silver rounds and flung them away.
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©2010 Conan Young
