CHAPTER 10
The sun was just a few hours from setting when they arrived at the base of the hill below the outlying shacks and huts.
Mark had ripped a wide strip of cloth from the bottom of his shirt to wrap around his nose and mouth. He pressed his hand against it as they came up the last rise before the village. The smell was awful. He could taste it on his tongue—dank, rotten, moldy—all the way to his stomach, as if he’d swallowed something that had begun to decompose. Fighting the urge to throw up, he took one step after another, breathlessly waiting to see what horrors lay in the aftermath of the attack.
Darnell.
Mark had no expectations there, had accepted, with a heavy heart, that his friend might be dead. But what about Trina? Lana? Misty and the Toad? Were they alive? Or sick from some crazy virus? He stopped when Alec reached a hand out and touched Mark’s chest.
“Okay, listen to me,” the old man said, his voice muffled behind his own swath of fabric. “We need to set some things straight before we get up there. We can’t let our emotions rule everything. No matter what we see, our number one priority has to be saving as many people as possible.”
Mark nodded, then moved to resume walking, but Alec stopped him.
“Mark, I need to know we’re on the same page here.” Alec spoke with a stern scowl—a look that reminded Mark of an upset schoolteacher. “If we go up there and start hugging people and crying and attempting things that make no sense with people who have no chance—all because we’re distraught … it’ll just hurt more folks in the long run. You understand? We need to think long-term. And as selfish as it sounds, we need to protect ourselves first. You get me? Ourselves. Saving the most people means we can’t help anybody if we’re dead.”
Mark looked him in the eyes and saw something rock hard in them. He knew Alec was right. With the workpad, the map and the things they knew about the people on the Berg, it was clear there was something bigger going on.
“Mark?” Alec said, snapping his fingers to get the boy’s attention. “Talk to me, buddy.”
“So what’re you saying?” Mark asked him. “If people look sick—if those darts really made people sick—stay away from them?”
Alec took a step back, his face pinched with an expression Mark didn’t quite get. “When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound so brotherly, but you’re dead-on. We can’t risk getting sick, Mark. We don’t know what we’re going to find up there—what we’re dealing with. I’m just saying that we need to be prepared … and if there’s any doubt about someone …”
“Leave them behind to be eaten by animals,” Mark said with a coldness that he hoped would hurt Alec.
The former soldier just shook his head. “We don’t even know what to expect, boy. Let’s just get up there and see what we see. Find our friends. But don’t be stupid, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t get close to anyone, certainly don’t touch anyone. Keep that cloth wrapped around your pretty little head. Do you understand?”
Mark did. At the very least, it made sense to keep a distance from the people shot with darts. Highly Contagious. The words went through his head again and he knew Alec was right. “I understand. I won’t be stupid. I promise. I’ll follow your lead.”
A look of compassion came across Alec’s face, something Mark hadn’t seen often. There was true kindness in those eyes of his. “We’ve been through hell and back, kid. I know it. But it’s toughened us up, right? We can do what it takes to live through one more challenge.” He glanced up the path toward the village. “Let’s hope our friends are okay.”
“Let’s hope,” Mark repeated. He tightened the cloth mask around his face.
Alec gave him a stiff nod—professional again—and started up the hill. Mark pulled himself together, swearing to put emotions aside for now, and followed.
They’d just crested the hill when the source of the horrific smell came clearly into view.
So many bodies.
On the very outskirts of the village, there was a large, simple wooden structure originally meant to provide cover in a rainstorm, then, when more solid buildings were built, to store things temporarily. It had three walls and an open front. A thatched roof had been layered with mud to keep the inside as dry as possible. Everyone called it the Leaner because, despite being pretty sturdy, it looked like it was tilting down the slope of the mountain.
Someone had made the decision to put the dead in the Leaner.
Mark was horrified. He shouldn’t have been—he’d seen more dead people in the last year than a hundred morticians of the past would have seen in a lifetime. But it was shocking all the same.
There were at least twenty bodies, laid out side by side, filling the entire floor. Most of them had blood covering their faces—around the nose, mouth, eyes and ears. And judging from the color of their skin and the smell, all of them had been dead for a day or two. A quick scan revealed that Darnell wasn’t in the group. But Mark didn’t dare allow himself to hope. He pressed the cloth tighter to his nose and mouth and forced himself to look away from the carnage. There’d be no way he could eat anytime in the near future.
It didn’t seem to faze Alec quite as much. He was still staring at the bodies with a look more of frustration than disgust. Maybe he wanted to get in there, examine the bodies and try to figure out what was going on, but knew how foolish it would be.
“Let’s get into town,” Mark said. “Find our friends.”