And then suddenly, strong hands grab him and pull him up, Ozzy being lifted from his shoulders.
Three men—two of them wearing soldier’s uniforms, the third in civilian—place him up against the wall, and someone shines a bright light into his eyes.
“Oh, fuck,” William says, squinting and trying to shove the men back, but they’re holding him tight, one of them forcing his right eye open. “Could you please not do that? I told you, I’m not infected …”
“Pupils are fine,” one of the soldiers says. “How about the pulse, Tom?”
“Fine too,” the other soldier says—a tall, broad black guy—taking his fingers away from William’s neck. “I think we’re clear.”
They let go of William and he almost slumps to the floor before regaining his bearings.
“Right, close the hatch!” the black soldier roars. “That was the last one! We’re moving on!”
William just stands there, leaning against the wall, Ozzy by his side, looking just as befuddled as William feels. The soldiers close the hatch as the helicopter begins moving. It’s so much bigger than the medical helicopter, it’s like a small ballroom in here. And it’s crammed full of people, all of them dressed in civilian clothes and placed shoulder to shoulder, their pale faces visible in the darkness. They’re all either looking at him or sleeping up against one another. Some of them are hugging backpacks or plastic bags or piles of clothes and other belongings, but most are just sitting there empty-handed.
“Take a seat,” a deep voice tells William.
He looks at the black soldier suddenly standing next to him. His head is shaved and he reminds William of that guy who played John Coffey in The Green Mile.
“What is this?” William asks. “Who are these people?”
“Survivors,” the soldier tells him with a shrug. “Like yourself, sir.”
“Are you just flying around picking up people at random? What are US soldiers even doing here?”
The guy looks like he expected these questions and doesn’t really feel like answering them. “We were stationed at an air base in the northern part of Norway when this pandemic broke loose. Our orders are to get as many people to safety at Camp Future in Tunisia.”
“Camp Future?” William repeats. “Really? That’s the official name?”
The soldier shrugs again. “I didn’t name the place.” He nods towards the other passengers. “Could you take a seat, sir? It’s not safe standing while we’re airborne.”
William is about to say something else, but the soldier places a big hand on his shoulder and urges him on. William goes to sit down, Ozzy following him close behind. There’s one interim place left, and William sits down. The guy next to him is about the same age, skinny and blonde. He’s sitting upright, staring at nothing. Apparently, he’s not with anybody. Judging by his clothes, William takes him to be someone who used to work in marketing or the likes.
“I’m William,” he says in Danish.
The guy doesn’t answer, he just keeps staring ahead.
William nudges his knee.
The guy blinks and looks at him.
“You all right?” William asks. He needs to lean in close for the guy to hear him, and the guy leans away, his expression flinching. “It’s okay,” William assures him. “I’m not infected. They wouldn’t have taken me along if I was.”
The guy eyes him for a moment, then he nods. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. How are you holding up?”
The guy takes a deep breath. “Like everyone else, I guess. I just lost … my, uhm … fiancée … yesterday. She, uhm …” The guy swallows hard several times. “She was … she was …”
“It’s okay, dude,” William says. “You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”
The guy nods, blinking away tears. He looks down, then up again. “She was pregnant, you know?”
“Oh, fuck me,” William mutters, wishing the guy hadn’t told him. “I’m really sorry.”
The guy squeezes his lips together.
William doesn’t know what to say or do, so he just sits there while the guy battles his emotions.
After a minute or so, he seems to get a hold of himself. He looks at William. “Are you Danish?”
“Yeah. It’s a long story.”
The guy nods as though he understands.
“Where did they pick you up?” William asks.
“In Trondheim. They said I was the last one, but I guess they changed their minds when they saw you.”
William looks over at the soldiers sitting at the front end of the helicopter. They’re wearing headphones and looking out the windows, apparently watching the sunrise.
“You know why they’re taking us to Tunisia?” William asks the guy. “I mean, Finland is a lot closer. I heard they have camps there, too.”
“Someone asked that question earlier,” the guy says with a shrug. “They told us the camps in Finland are full already.”
William squints. “That’s bullshit. My mom is going there. I just spoke with her a few hours ago.”
The guy shrugs again. “I wouldn’t know. I’m just saying what they told us.”
Well, they’re lying, William thinks to himself, looking over at the soldiers now talking about something amongst themselves. Why would they lie to us?
ELEVEN
It’s only as he steps down from the ladder that he finally registers the rank smell.
Dan stops for a moment, sniffing. The air in the tunnel is cool and damp like he recalls it, but that synthetic, chemical smell definitely wasn’t there before.
What is that smell?
He looks down the tunnel and can just make out the staircase at the end. It’s lit up by a faint light from above. Like a celestial staircase. Except it looks nothing like that.
Dan begins walking, and after only a few steps he notices the ground is oddly wet below his feet. His sock is soaked through immediately, and he can hear it slosh every time he lifts his foot.
Is that … gasoline?
Then it suddenly hits home. The woman said something
