Josh reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue,clamping it over his mouth, even though he knew it would do him little good ifthis really was some advanced nerve agent. Whatever had killed the waitress andthe paramedic could still be in the air and if it was, he had almost certainlybreathed it in.
He decided to get off the streets to try to figure out whatwas happening, but every shop and café was seemingly closed. Desperately hetried each door in turn until, with relief, he found a handle that turned.Coincidentally, it turned out to be the same restaurant where all the troublehad started the night Henry disappeared.
The scene inside reminded him of the Mary Celeste.Half-eaten meals sat on plates abandoned in a hurry, with napkins strewn acrossthe table in the undoubted haste with which the diners had left. None of thefood was decaying, suggesting this had all happened very recently.
He took a moment to grab a full glass of wine someone hadleft on one of the tables. He drained the lot in one go which was somethingCharlie wouldn’t have approved of. He believed wine needed to be savoured, butthis was hardly the time and he needed something to steady his nerves.
Looking around, he was relieved to see there were no deadbodies. The diners must have had some warning of what was coming and got out.He made his way to the back of the restaurant and out into the kitchen to seeif he could find more clues there.
The scene reflected what he had already seen in therestaurant. There were several meals in various degrees of preparation whichhad been abandoned in a hurry.
He noticed a strong smell of burning mixed with a smell thatreminded Josh of his childhood and his grandmother’s overcooked Brusselssprouts.
Crossing over to the large stove, he could see it was stillon and a metal saucepan was blackened from sitting on the gas in the hourssince this place had been abandoned. Inside the pan were some unidentifiableblackened vegetables that had been completely cremated once the water in thepan had run dry.
He switched off the gas and walked over to the office areabeyond where he could see there was a television. Locating the remote, heflicked it on to be confronted by a screen that simply read “Temporary fault”.He scrolled through several channels, but it was a similar story with all untilhe reached the BBC’s news channel which was the only one that still seemed tobe broadcasting.
On the screen was the reassuringly familiar sight of thechannel’s veteran news anchor, Seema Mistry. Now in her sixties, she hadenjoyed a glittering career and had been ever present on Josh’s TV screenthroughout his adult life. In another place and another time, he had also had abrief intimate encounter with her.
Her appearance was shocking as she spoke, coughing into thecamera. Normally so well turned out, her beautiful Asian features had seemedimmune to the ravages of age for so many years, but no longer. It was abundantlyclear that she, too, was in the grip of whatever had afflicted the other peoplehe had encountered.
The banner scrolling across the bottom of the screen read“State of emergency declared. UK death toll now over one million”, but fromwhat Seema was saying it was considerably worse than that.
She paused, coughing violently, before continuing herbroadcast.
“Doctors say that they are working on a cure for the virus,which appeared from nowhere just five days ago, but it will take time to treatthe whole population. In the meantime, the advice is to stay indoors, and ifyou feel the symptoms, drink as much fluid as possible and stay in bed untilthe worst is past.”
She paused again, coughing, and Josh could see foam formingon her lips, just like the others. Then Seema decided to drop the pretence. Shehad always had a reputation for hard-hitting investigative journalism and shewasn’t about to make an exception because of the heavy-handed orders issued toher by the emergency government.
“The truth is, we all know there is no cure. Everyone hereat the station is dead, and I expect that I will join them within the nexthour. This will be my final broadcast. The government theory is that whoeverhas brought this pestilence upon us created it in a laboratory and deliberatelyunleashed it upon the world. Whoever it was has in all likelihood brought aboutthe end of humanity as we know it.”
She paused again, face turning even more purple as shegasped for air, before continuing, desperate to deliver her final reportprofessionally.
“The pain is excruciating. I feel as if I am being cookedfrom within as if I was in a microwave. I regret…”
She had another hacking coughing fit, causing her to flopforward onto her desk, in a state of near collapse, but she raised her headweakly one last time.
“…I regret, I cannot continue this transmission. This hasbeen Seema Mistry, on behalf of BBC Worldwide, signing off.”
Then the screen went blank, leaving Josh feeling devastatedat what he had just witnessed. How many other people had seen it? Therecouldn’t be that many left.
“Seen enough yet?” said a familiar voice behind him. Heturned to see the despised face of his tormentor standing in the doorway thatseparated the office from the kitchen.
“You did this, didn’t you?” accused Josh.
“Of course,” said Vanessa. “The virus was yet another of mylittle pet projects. I had it brewed up back in Canberra, years ago. It wasjust a little insurance policy, you could say, in case certain people wouldn’tplay ball. My nuclear option, if you wish. I never thought I’d have to use it.”
“But you have,” said Josh. “And you’ve killed millions ofpeople.”
“Oh, billions I should expect,” she said without an ounce ofregret. “It’s the perfect virus. It has a transmission rate and a mortalityrate of 100%. That is unless you’ve been vaccinated of course, which obviouslyI have. The most entertaining part is that the victims die in absolute agony.The virus mimics the effects of the chemical weapons they used in the Africanwars of the 2030s.”
“You’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“I certainly am,” she replied. “I
