Radio Silence - Part 16

In her red coat, Dara was like a beacon, a flame, that attracted anyone nearby to the TV.

Or it could have just been the fact that there was a TV on. And that there was a person talking on it.

Macy and Joe stood in front of the shop window and watched, agog as Dara explained how to die you’d need a large weapon and lots of force.

“I wonder if Richard knows about this yet?” Joe said.

Macy just shrugged.

“But you said you have a pulse?” Joe asked him.

Macy turned and bared his throat. “Yep, checked for yourself.”

Joe gently placed his fingers on the side of Macy’s throat. Sure enough, there it was.

“Why...how-?”

Mac shrugged again. “Dunno. Maybe because I was in my bunker ‘til today. For the last…” he thought back to how much food was left on the rusted shelves. “Has it been about three months?”

This time it was Joe’s turn to shrug. He pulled out his small notebook with the jail bar scribbles that he’d been more or less keeping up with. “I think it’s been four. Maybe even closer to 5.”

~*~

Richard was the next moth drawn to the flame of Dara in her red coat as a TV caught his eye in from inside a small cafe hanging on the wall as he navigated the streets of downtown Seattle. The subtitles were on, scrolling along the bottom. He wasn’t sure if what he was reading was correct. Half dead? Highlander? No pulse?

Hesitantly he raised his hand to the side of his neck and did as the closed captions instructed. He pressed. And waited. And waited. And...He removed his hand and tried his other hand on the other side, just in case. No dice.

And he echoed Allison when she first woke up. “Huh. Well isn’t that interesting.” He recognized where the lady in the red coat and her doctor friend were. After all, you can’t mistake Safeco field, where they were broadcasting from, which would still have power. He hoped they’d heard his message and would want to head to the islands with him. He headed towards the water, briefly wondering where he could find a sword.

~*~

Melanie’s ears rang and her arm that held the gun still shook. She had heard the heavy thud of Frank hitting the ground. She took a tentative step forward and his dark form on the ground slowly materialized and separated itself from the snow. She leaned over, examining him.

And then Frank started shaking. And a laugh bubbled up out of him. He rolled over on his side, the laugh growing louder, stronger. And then he pushed himself up.

Melanie jumped back and pointed the gun at him again. “Wha-”.

Frank looked down at his chest, examining the hole that the bullet had made through his clothes, and into him. His laugh turned wilder.

“I don’t-” Melanie struggled to find the words. “I shot you! How are you-?”

“Still alive?” Frank replied with that creepy all-white teeth grin. He shrugged. “Who knows. I’ve tried stabbing.” Here he pulled up his shirt to reveal a large cut in his torso, above his hip. “Poison. Pills…” Anything I could think of. I couldn’t shoot myself though. And I just wanted to see.”

Melanie took another step back as Frank rose. “So. Now you’ll tell me where Joe is!”

“I don’t know!” Melanie said, raising the gun for protection, out of habit. “I told him to go.”

Frank paused. “Go? Go where?”

This time it was Melanie’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. Probably to find that guy called Richard. There was some guy on the radio, claiming he’d caused all this,” she waved her hand vaguely around her. “And that he was wanting to start up some colony in Washington.”

“Richard?” Frank’s eyes widened. “Richard McGIllivray? Of MeteoTech?”

Melanie shrugged again, uninterested. “Dunno. Maybe? I didn’t hear the message myself. Only what Joe told me. That this guy was heading to the San Juan islands and inviting anyone that’s still around to go there too. To rebuild. To start a community. To find others.”

“Dammit!” Frank roared and turned on his heel, storming off through the snow that had started to lessen, so that Melanie could see him retreating a few feet in front of her.

She lowered the gun and, against her better judgement, ran after him. “What’s wrong?”

Frank glared at her sideways as she reached him. “Richard’s the guy that caused all this. The end of the world. The nuclear winter.

“You being a zombie?” Melanie added.

“I’m not a zombie!” Frank shouted coming to an abrupt stop.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Melanie said.

“What about you?” Frank countered.

“What do you mean what about me?”

“Haven’t you heard that lady on the news?” Frank said, almost exasperated. “Check your pulse.”

“Wha-”

Frank grabbed Melanie’s hand and pressed it on her neck. “Your pulse, girl. Check your pulse.” Frank’s hand remained holding her wrist.

Melanie pressed her fingers to her neck. And her eyes widened.

“See? What did I tell you?” Frank said with a smug smile and tone.

“So, I’m...dead?”

Frank shrugged again. “Seems like it. At least that’s what the lady on the news and her doctor friend thinks. If we don’t have a pulse it means our heart isn’t beating anymore.”

“But-”

“How are we still alive?” Frank supplied, somewhat helpfully.

“Well, yeah.”

“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out,” Frank said, moving on once more.

Melanie jogged to catch up “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think? Back to Seattle. To find that doctor and Richard.”

~*~

“Have you heard the radio?” Allison asked Dara as they got into their car. Dara shook her head. She wasn’t a radio person.

“No. Why?”

“There’s some guy who’s still around and saying he wants to start a new society on San Juan. He mentioned something about a floating continent but I didn’t get that part.”

~*~

Richard arrived at the Anacortes ferry terminal. It was eerily quiet. Just like everywhere else. No one else seemed to be there.

Yet. Richard hoped. He sat down on a bench outside the terminal and waited for people to arrive. I wonder how many there are? He’d made a little detour to a Cabela’s Sporting Goods store on the way there and had picked up a machete and a backpack to store it in. Because you never knew, he thought. Self preservation and all that. After all, he was public enemy number one, wasn’t he? And he waited.

~*~

Dara and Allison were the first to arrive at the terminal. They had made a similar detour to Richard via a Walmart to pick up a long sword-like weapon, and a hard case to put it in. They were met by a man with a greying beard, thinning hair and utterly normal looking.

He stood up from the bench, heading toward them, arm extended. “Hi I’m-”

“Richard?” Dara and Allison said in unison.

Richard smiled, somewhat sadly. “Yes,” he said, shaking their hands. “And you are-” he was about to say, but Dara interrupted

“Dara. And this is-”

“Dr. James. So I saw on the news. You’re who is saying we’re all semi-alive?”

Allison nodded. “Yes. It seems that way. Since we don’t have beating hearts.”

“But how-”

“Can we be alive?” Allison finished. “I’m not sure, to be honest. It’s probably something we shouldn’t overthink. After all, we’re alive-”

“Kind of,” Dara interjected.

“And isn’t that all that matters?” Allison finished.

Richard smiled. “Guess so.”

“So. What happens next?”

“Well, we wait for any others for a bit, and then take the ferry-” Richard began.

“Do you know how to run the ferry?” Allison asked.

“Well…, no,” Richard said. I hadn’t actually thought that far.

“Okay well, what about a boat? There’s the marina over there,” Allison pointed in the opposite direction towards the Skyline marina. “I’m sure we can find a few speedboats to use.”

“That’s a better idea.” Richard admitted. “I’m a weather scientist, not much of a seafarer. But first, we should wait to see who else arrives.”

“I’ll go see what snacks there might be in the cafe,” Dara said, and headed off towards the terminal.

Next to arrive was Macy and Joe.

Richard stood tentatively and shook the man’s hand, who looked more like a scarecrow with skin stretched tightly over bone.

“Macy,” said Macy, who had strapped a large knife used for trimming trees to his back with a sharp serrated edge.

Joe extended his hand and gave his name next.

The four of them sat, wedged together on the bench, waiting. Joe had tried his walkie once more, trying to reach Melanie. He didn’t get a reply, so hoped she’d heard it and was heading their way.

One hour, then two, drifted by. They’d started to wonder if anyone else was going to show up.

Joe spotted her first, from the colour of her hoodie, standing out against the greyness of everything else. And then he squinted. Was there someone else with her? There was, but he couldn’t make them out.

Suddenly Richard stood up. “Frank!” he said loudly under his breath. “He’s the one who started all of this-” Richard started to explain.

“Frank?” Joe repeated dumbly, staggering to his feet. “But Frank’s-” he was about to say dead, and then it hit him. It felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Oh shit.” He pulled out his two small knives. He felt underprepared, seeing what he assumed were larger weapons stuffed in bags and cases. “Don't bring a pocket knife to a swordfight” he muttered to himself.

And he saw Richard had unzipped the backpack that had been resting between his feet on the ground and pulled out a machete. The two women looked at each other in confusion but opened the long case they had with them and withdrew two long hunting knives, following suit. Macy had unstrapped his tree pruning knife and held it protectively in front of him.

Frank strode unerringly up to the five of them, leaving Melanie a few steps behind.

“Frank!” said both Richard and Joe in unison.

Frank grinned and stretched out his hands in supplication. “Gentlemen!” he said cheerily. “Both of the men I’ve been wanting to see.”

Richard and Joe looked at each other and then back at Frank.

“It looks like we’re at a bit of a stalemate,” Frank observed, sliding a long sword out of a holster at his hip. It glinted dully in the ever present pearly light. He nodded at Allison, raising his sword. “Thanks for the tip!” He turned and indicated Joe’s knives with his weapon. “Though it seems like you’re at a bit of a disadvantage there Joe, ‘ol buddy.”

Joe gripped Char’s small army knife tighter and the larger kitchen knife he’d taken from one of the houses they’d searched at the beginning.

Melanie had raised the gun she had on her and was swinging her arm in a circle, not sure who she should be pointing at. She took a few steps back, freeing herself from the circle, and pointed her gun at Frank once more.

Frank turned his head and looked at Melanie, and tsked. “Still haven’t learned, have you Mel-?” he said.

And without warning, like the first time, she fired her gun again. He stumbled backwards, dropping his sword perhaps in surprise or the force of being shot. Melanie swooped down, snatched it up and jumped back out of the way. The other five advanced, Joe placing his foot on Frank’s chest, pinning him down. Alison and Dara did the same to his arms, pointing their knives towards him.

Richard regarded the standing circle. “Who wants to do the honours?”

“Well, I’ve already killed him once,” Joe admitted. “Or at least I thought I had.” The four of them stared at him. “When he tried to kill me first,” Joe explained hastily.

“Well, in that case, if there’s no objections,” Richard said, lifting his arm high and gripping the hilt with both hands. He swung as hard as he could.

~*~

Melanie sat perched on the armrest of the bench. The other five sat squished like sardines on the bench.

“Well,” said Richard after a long moment. “Your theory was right, Dr James.”

Allison just nodded mutely, pointedly avoiding looking at the spot where Frank had been. At least there wasn’t much blood, she thought numbly.

It had taken three of them, Richard, Joe and even the skin and bones Macy to carry his body over to the water, and for the second, and final, time dispose of it.

And now there was just the smallest of dark stains on the concrete. The blood that had oozed out of Frank, even without a beating heart.

“So,” Melanie said, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on her sleeve. “Tell us again how you realized it was Frank and not you that started the end of the world?”

Richard laughed quietly, shaking his head almost in disbelief. “Not having that coffee, I wasn’t functioning as clearly as I normally did. So I thought it was me. I just assumed. But I thought it was strange that it was Frank that had grabbed me and helped me out of the hangar. He was just one of the numbers guys. But-” his mouth quirked in a wistful smile. “With stuff like this, it’s the numbers that make all the difference. That’s what is most important. Any mistake in them then…” he trailed off, shoulders slumping, not needing to finish.

They all sat in silence that seemed to drag on for minutes, and maybe hours.

It was Joe who eventually said two words that offered them something that Pandora never had after unleashing her box of horrors onto the world: Hope.

He cleared his throat and said softly, “Now what?”

THE END

~~~~~~

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