Chapter 6
Five stands on the roof of the tower. Urgent voices scream in her ear. She swallows panic. The voices are chaotic. Jumbled. “You have to stop her, Five.” “The signal will burn out her brain.” “It doesn’t have to be Five.” "Run, Five." “My brain hasn't ever done anything good for me anyway.” "I have a zipline secured." “Simon, you’ll die. It will be excruciating.” “You’re aura’s all gold. Gold like the sun.” “Five, the zipline’s waiting for you. Get there before the building collapses.” “Jenny. Am I good to go?” She could go to Maxine standing with the zipline and save herself or she could go to Simon kneeling with the equipment and try to save him. Five makes a choice.
It’s the choice she should have made.
It’s the choice she didn’t make.
But in the dream she will make this same decision over and over again.
Over and over again.
Everything around her is blurry. She can only see Simon clearly. The background fades. Every voice goes silent except for Simon’s pleading.
“Five, go. Please.”
“I can’t leave you. I won’t.”
"You have to. People love you."
"I don't want you to die for me. They asked me to do it. I want to do it."
“Look up here, I’m in heaven.”
“What?”
“I’ve got scars that can’t be seen. I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen.”
“That’s a song. I recognize it.”
“Everybody knows me now.”
“Simon. Please.”
“Look up here, man. I’m in danger. I’ve got nothing left to lose.”
“I forgive you.”
“This way or no way. You know, I’ll be free. Just like that bluebird. Now ain’t that just like me?”
“Lazarus.”
“I’ll see you in another life, Five.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know. Go.”
That scream.
That scream will echo in her ears as long as she lives.
The building collapses.
Five woke with a start. She sat up, the sheet wrapped around her legs in knots, face wet with sweat and tears. Choking back sobs.
Sam was rubbing her back in small circles, gently singing Sara's lullaby.
"You with me, Five?" Years ago, Sam learned not to question the nightmares. If Five wanted to share, she would. If not, asking what the dream was about wouldn't help. So instead he focused on the most important question. Was she okay?
"Yeah. Yeah, Sorry. It was an old one. The…Simon." Sam kept up his gentle touch and he leaned over to kiss her lightly on the cheek.
"Stay awake or back to sleep?"
"Back to sleep, I think. Just…let's fix these sheets. Sorry to wake you." He waved off her unnecessary apology. They straightened the blankets and nestled back under the covers. Five spent the rest of the night dreamless, but restless all the same.
Apparently, Evan and Janine had been planning a mission behind closed doors. This seemed to agitate Peter greatly, though he wouldn't say why.
As a result, he was in a mood when he, Five, and Janine set out on their run from Noah.
"We're almost there." He brooded. "Streets are overgrown. How long before we can't even call them streets anymore? Ugh. Anyway, no sign of zoms. Just sinister looking crows. What's the collective noun for crows?"
"This is hardly the time-" Janine started to scold, but Evan broke through on comms to answer brusquely.
"Murder. A murder of crows."
"Oh, well. That's ominous. Um, speaking of ominous, is it my imagination, Five, or is that a huge graveyard?" Peter jabbed Five with his elbow and she nodded.
“Good. You’re there.” Evan said.
“At the dead drop.”
“Yes. That’s where Netrophil leaves their most sensitive messages. The last one concerned the Viking object that Sigrid wants so desperately.” Evan and Janine continued to explain while Peter looked over at Five and grumbled,
“I think we missed the crucial point - that we’re looking for a dead drop in a graveyard.” Five tried to conceal her laugh.
“I hope you brought a skeleton key.” She replied. Peter snorted.
“That’s the spirit.”
“The plot thic-”
“It’s a sizable place.” Evan interrupted sternly. “I suggest you split up. Look for the grave of Gillian Lynn.”
“Peter and I can…” Five started, hoping to perk him up.
“Mr. Necropolis and I will run together.” Janine said over her, a little too eagerly. “Runner Five, you go solo. Would that be okay with you, Mr. Deaubl?”
“It’s fine, Janine. Just be fast. We don’t want Sigrid’s people to know what we’re doing.”
Five set off on her own, grumbling to herself, when she heard the distinct click of being put on a private comms channel. “I’m glad to have you alone for a minute, Five.” Five’s breath hitched as Evan’s voice snapped her out of her despondency. There was a slight flutter in her stomach. Evan always intimidated her, but for some reason her body always betrayed her a bit with him. That commanding presence always set something churning. “I owe you an apology.”
“Apology? For what?”
“I wanted to take you with me when I left Abel. You probably remember.”
“Yeah, only every single time something goes sideways and I wish I was on the beach with you instead.” Five’s face instantly reddened. Did I just say that out loud? To Evan? She busied herself looking at a name on a tombstone. Evan let out a little huff of laughter.
“I don’t blame you for not coming. I wasn’t honest with you about who I am. I see there’s a bit of that going around at the moment.” Five froze.
“What do you -”
“I don’t want to lie to you anymore. If you want to know why I joined Netrophil, well…there’s never only one reason a person does something, is there?” He laughed more audibly, but with tremendous sadness behind it. “There was one person. Not a lover, just a friend. As if there’s anything ‘just’ about friendship. He’s dead now. There’s no grave I can visit. Sigrid’s people saw to that. They made sure his body was never found.” As he continued his story, Five listened closely to his voice. It was filled with such hopeless despair. We’re never the same when we lose someone we really love. “Just head for the bridge, Five. We’ll check the newer graves next. I’m going to put everyone back on comms. You should meet up with the rest of the group on the other side of the bridge.”
Her footsteps sounded hollow crossing the small bridge over a babbling stream. She felt a few light raindrops land on her face and wiped them away as thunder rolled in the distance. She turned a corner, squinting to see some of the nearby headstones, and ran directly into Peter.
“Oooh, Five. What’s a runner like you doing in a gloomy old place like this?”
“I think I’ve made a grave mistake coming here.”
“Don’t you two start.” Janine scolded.
“We’ll need three sets of eyes on this section. Run adjacent rows and scan the graves to your left.”
“It’s all laid out like a big grid. It’s rather depressing.” Peter sighed. “Shouldn’t death be more…untidy?”
“Yes. It’s never a clean cut. There’s always a frayed edge and loose ends.” Janine stared at him. Her voice hinted at something just below the surface.
“Well now it’s just getting morbid. How about a little something more cheerful?”
“You’re in a graveyard.” Evan said, sharply.
“Yes, well. Sometimes death has a lighter side. Look at some of these names. What have you found, Five?”
“Mary Lamb.” Five read. “Oof. What’s her middle name? Hadalittle?”
“Jesus O’Toole!” Peter read out.
“Jenny Titsworth. Oh, boy.”
“Richard Balls!” Peter called. Five and Peter started to giggle. “Honestly. What were his parents thinking?”
“A man called Necropolis isn’t in a position to speak.” Evan scolded.
“That’s just a pseudonym, though. Isn’t it?” Janine said, pointedly. Five was getting up from a crouch but stopped at Janine’s word. She sat back on her heels and peered over the top of the stone she was hiding behind. Peter turned his back on Janine, his smile fading.
“Does it really matter?”
“You must think so. You’ve managed to make some excuse every single time I tried to talk to you. That’s why I resorted to inviting myself on this mission today. You’ve left me no other option.”
“Look, Five.” Peter appeared in front of her, pointing. “Uh, what…what’s that up ahead? Is it me or is that heap of dirt moving?”
“Necropolis, please. You can’t keep-”
“No, Janine. Look. It’s moving.” Five nodded toward the pile.
“That’s one of the mass burial pits from the early days of the apocalypse. Judging by the skeletal hands clawing up through the dirt, some of the people may have been infected. Run!”
They ran through the graveyard, Five still trying to glance at whatever stones she could. While trying to figure out a particularly old and worn name, she felt her foot catch on a tree root. Her body pitched forward. She put her arms out, ready for pain but felt only…Peter.
“Ah, thanks. That was stupid.”
“I’ll always be here to catch you, Five.” He said quietly. I’ll always come for you, Runner Five. She looked Peter directly in the eyes. Those beautiful, familiar eyes.
“I know you will. You always have.” She took his hand and they kept running until Evan came back on comms.
“You’ve outrun those zoms for now. You can slow down. Did you happen to catch any of the names on the graves as you sprinted past?”
“No sign of the one we’re looking for.” Peter sighed. “You’re sure it’s here?”
“Sure as I can be.”
“Half of the graves are behind these massive trees. It’s hard to - oh.” Peter stopped short.
“What is it?” Evan asked.
“See that tree branch? The one that looks like someone showing off their biceps?”
“Ah - there’s a body swinging beneath it.” Janine explained, quietly. “Hanging by the neck.”
“There’s more there. A couple in the ash tree, loads in that knobbly old oak. They’re hanging trees. I heard about this. When people realized there was no way it was getting better, they took a shortcut to where we’re all heading anyway.”
A beat of silence.
A rumble of thunder.
“Clearly it was quite a popular idea. There must be at least twenty people here. I understand it as a solution but it’s never been mine.” Evan took a breath but couldn’t hide the agony. All this death, it had opened up a wound, raw and aching. “When things seem bleak, that’s when you fight. Not for yourself. You carry on for everyone who would have loved a few more days of life and never got them.”
Peter sighed. Five rested her hand on his shoulder.
“I just don’t think the choice is that simple.” Five whispered.
She felt Peter shiver.
Fat raindrops fell, darkening the gravestones.
“Sometimes you get tired of fighting.” Peter took a breath. “Sometimes having to live with yourself is…unbearable.” Peter’s voice wavered. Five felt her heart break into pieces.
She knew the feeling.
She felt it after Moonchild.
You’re not used to it, being the bad guy. You don’t know how to cope.
She felt it with Sigrid in Abel.
With Steve.
It’s not what they’ve done to you. It’s what you’re doing to yourself.
“Peter.” Five started to say, but she wasn’t sure what else should come after. There was so much to say and not enough words. Staring at the bodies swinging beneath the trees. Rain mixed with tears soaking her face.
“Mr. Necropolis, do you want to talk about-” Janine started, her hair coming out of her tight bun, sticking to her cheeks, slick with rain.
“Wait, listen.” Five hushed her.
Moaning.
“Those people must have been bitten before they hanged themselves. Our presence has woken them.” Janine’s voice hardened again.
“That’s the downside of suicide these days.” Peter sighed. “No point doing it if you’re not going to stay dead.”
“Their hands are clawing at those ropes. Their flesh is peeling off, but the ropes are pretty frayed. They won’t last long. Run!” Evan commanded.
Their feet splashing through puddles, mud flowing in rivulettes flowing through the cracks in the sidewalk. The zombies lost interest when they couldn’t free themselves from the ropes quickly enough, so the team slowed down. They continued to inspect the gravestones.
So much death.
How many of these people wanted to stay?
How many of these people died alone?
How many had people who missed them?
How many had things left undone? Unsaid?
Five traced the name of the nearest headstone, letting her fingers feel every letter. Maggie Thomas. What was her story? How did she die? She wanted to remember this name. Just in case nobody was left to remember Maggie.
“The graves are so old, you can barely read the names. Makes you wonder what the point of a tombstone is in the first place.” Peter had knelt beside her without her noticing. She kept tracing the name. Maggie. Maggie.
“Everyone wants to be remembered.” Five said gently.
“As what? What can you possibly tell from a gravestone?”
“This is Maggie.” Five said, as if introducing him. Peter scoffed.
“Yeah. Well. Look here. This is…” he squinted at the stone next to Maggie Thomas and wiped the rain off his forehead. “Arthur. Mmm. Yes. He will forever be remembered as the man who bought inferior quality granite, but decided it was worth shelling out for four surprisingly buxom angels weeping over his grave.” Five shrugged. Maybe he was right.
“That’s enough!” Janine shouted. She had been reading the stones one row in front of them but she was now standing over Peter and Five, her eyes closed and her mouth set in anger.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You know how I go on. I mean, you must have noticed over the few weeks you’ve known me.” Peter smiled weakly. Five looked between Peter - resigned and contrite, and Janine who looked positively wild.
“We definitely noticed.” Evan broke in, incensed. “You chatter, and yet you never really say anything. It’s a waste. Here we are, surrounded by people who’ve lost their last chance to explain themselves -”
“Maybe that’s how they wanted it.”
“Peter, we do have to talk about this, you know?” Janine’s face had gone slightly softer. Her voice momentarily calmer as she tried regaining composure. “However much you might like to, you can’t put it off forever.”
Peter’s face fell.
They all knew.
He whispered, “For God’s sake, Jenny. Not in front of Five.”
“You think I don’t know?” Five snapped. “How could I not know?”
“Do you think anyone doesn’t know?” Janine’s voice was frantic. “Half the people in Noah Base have come to ask me, except for Miss Spens, who will only give me knowing smirks.”
“I don’t want them to know!” Peter threw his hands up in defeat. “I don’t want any of you to know. That’s my right, isn’t it? Come on, Five. There’s a subsection over there where the names are more readable in the little daylight we have left. Let’s me and you go check it out. Come on.” He took off. Five ran after him.
He was right.
It was his only way to escape himself.
He finally had a chance to start over.
I’ll see you in another life, Five.
You know I’ll be free.
She ran by his side, the way she always did. The way she always would.
“Mr. Necropolis! Runner Five! Slow down!” Janine was catching up.
“Oh, for God’s - I don’t want to have this conversation, okay?! Doesn’t a person get a chance to start over? How can you move forward if everyone’s constantly trying to chain you to the past?”
“I understand.” Janine had caught up. She put her arms on Peter’s shoulders and stopped him. She turned him gently to face her. “There’s something I need to tell you about a man. A man I cared about a great deal. His name was Simon.”
“Oh, I don’t want-”
“Simon did terrible things. He betrayed me and everyone else who cared about him, and then he sacrificed himself for everyone.”
“Well he sounds like an idiot.”
“Yes. He was. And selfish. And vain.”
“There you go. Just as well he’s gone.” Peter tried turning but Janine’s grip tightened.
“I forgave him. We all forgave him. And I’m sorry he died before I had a chance to tell him, because I miss him a great deal.”
“Oh. I…do you?”
“Every day.” She paused. She moved her hand to his cheek. “When duty allows.” Janine added with a small smile. Five desperately wanted to say something, but her voice caught in her throat. It wasn’t her place to talk right now.
“I really do hate to interrupt,” Evan said, sounding like he didn’t really care about interrupting at all. “Those zoms are back and heading for you. You’ve only got minutes left. The rain is no longer slowing them down.”
A brief moment of silence, a clap of thunder, and they continued examining each headstone with a bit more desperation. The darkness, the rain, the zombies. They were running out of time.
“Wait - I …here it is! Uh, Gillian Lynne. A nice simple headstone and there…yes! There’s a thin tube stuck in the ground behind it.”
“Thank you Peter.” Janine said as Evan called for them to run.
Janine, Peter, and Five ran side by side. Five swiped at another tear threatening to fall. Concentrate. Just keep running.
The moaning was getting louder.
Thunder rolled.
“I think the stor-” Evan’s voice faded away to static.
“Crap, guys. They’re catching up.” Five took a quick glance over her shoulder.
“And we seem to have lost Mr. Deaubl.” Janine added.
“Shit. Peter, do me a favor.”
“Whatever you need, Five.”
“I’m going to make some noise and double back behind those trees.”
“You’re - what?” Peter stumbled a bit as he glanced over at Five.
“While I’m distracting the zombies, check that mausoleum door. See if you can get it open.”
“Okay, but-”
“And do make sure that it opens.” Five winked. Lightning flashed.
“That’s not at all ominous. This seems perfectly fine.” Peter grumbled, but he and Janine were already heading to the mausoleum.
“Hey assholes!” Five screamed. “I’ve got something you want!” Five distinctly heard Peter snort as she took off in the other direction. “Follow me you undead morons! Wooooooo!” Five took every ounce of sadness for Peter, every bit of joy for getting her friend back, every mixed up fucked up jumbled up emotion and yelled it out into the darkness that had fallen. It was only dusk but the storm blackened the sky. The wind picked up and carried her words to the zombies. Five was no longer shouting words. She was calling out pure energy.
“Five, you complete nutter. We got the door open!” Five heard Peter’s voice and she turned to double back. Predictably, the zombies shambled mindlessly behind her. Following her.
She sprinted for the mausoleum.
She reached the door before she knew it.
She was too fast.
She had too much momentum.
She tried to stop.
Her feet skidded in the mud.
Her heart stopped.
It was a mistake.
It was about to cost her.
She was gliding into the door, the zombies behind her, unstopping, unrelenting.
She was going to slide in - get trapped inside with them.
Peter grabbed her arm and swung her out of the doorway in time.
The zombies piled into the mausoleum.
Janine slammed the door.
Five collapsed in Peter’s arms.
“Saved you again. We’re making rather a habit of this.”
Five sobbed in Peter’s arms.
Her body gave in to the fear. The relief.
She let go of a friend.
She welcomed another.
She clung to him for dear life.
The thunder made a low, rumbling sound.
Static pulsed in Five’s ear.
Peter patted her back and pulled her up on her feet.
“Have - lost - hear - zombies?” Evan’s voice was breaking through the static. “Storm - signal - you - have you lost the zombies?” Finally, it came through clearly.
“Oh, yeah. Five lured them into that big mausoleum and Janine locked them inside. It was very slick.” Five hit Peter on the shoulder.
“Is that a joke about me slipping in the mud?”
“Happy accident. You know,” Peter slowed to a walk. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. “This has been an enjoyable little outing. Pleasant surroundings, only a slight hint of lethal peril, and only a light smattering of zombies.” Five and Janine walked on either side of him. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Necropolis is all well and good, but it’s not a name I’d want on my tombstone. Lynne is a good name, though. Peter Lynne. It’s got a certain ring to it.”
“Very well, Mr. Lynne.” Out of the corner of her eye, Five saw Janine’s shoulders relax. Just a bit. As much as Janine ever relaxed. “It seems we are all clear. Even the rain seems to be stopping. Can you read us the message from that dead drop?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll just unwrap it and - oh, blimey. That’s a bit cryptic.”
“Well, what does it say?” Evan asked impatiently. Janine and Five both leaned in to read over Peter’s shoulder.
“Ah, it says,” he cleared his throat, “The bracelet is the key to the ancient door, and behind the door is the key to the ancient plague.”
“The key…does that mean the cure?” Evan sounded hopeful for the first time since Five had seen him at the airport.
“It might.” Janine said, seriously. “We know that the apocalypse began before the Minister was ready. Before she developed her own cure. If she could get her hands on the one the Vikings used…”
“She could administer it to those she chose and leave everyone else to die.” Well, his hopefulness was short-lived. “We need to get to it first. But we can’t do anything else tonight. That storm brought in the darkness. Come on home, everyone.” The runners sped up to a light jog.
Back to Noah.
Noah wasn't home.
The people who lived there were her home.
The ones who saved her over and over again. The ones who rescued her when she first got to Abel, when she thought she had nothing left.
Five found herself back in Abel's armory. Last week, Simon found her here, gun in hand, trying to decide if it was worth getting up every morning just to fight again. For what? He had convinced her to carry on, to see if she could make it just one more week, and then meet him here if she did. Reluctantly, she was here. She didn’t actually expect Simon to meet her. Surely he was just saying what he had to say so he could avoid any guilt if she did end up blowing half her brains over the armory wall. She shook her head and started to leave.
“God, Five. How stupid are you?” She grumbled, wanting to kick her own gullible ass.
But then she heard his voice around a dark corner.
“Runner Five. You’ve made it another week.”
“I don’t know why or how.”
“Sometimes it’s just curiosity that keeps you going. What if you miss out on something amazing?”
“Like zombies trapping you in the corner when you’re just trying to grab tins of food from a shelf?”
“Sure. If that’s your cup of tea. But I was thinking of other things that could be…more enjoyable.” He put his hand behind her head and pulled her in closely. His lips were inches from hers. His eyes, normally twinkling with mischief, were stormy. Normally, Five would have felt squirmy and uncomfortable, but with Simon, there was something about him that she trusted. She knew guys like him before. Flirty. Slick. All pretend. He was hurting, she could see it. His eyes held a lot of pain in them. "What is your real name?" He asked as he leaned in, so there was almost no space between them. "It doesn't matter. That person is dead." Simon paused for a moment. "I can understand that." He took one more look at her before closing the gap and kissing her. It was more gentle than she expected. She didn't know what the future held for her, or for Simon. But maybe...maybe she could find something worth fighting for.