Three days had passed since the night she encountered the mysterious stranger, who had assisted her without asking for anything in return. The solitude in his voice was as if he asked for nothing from the world. For some reason, the encounter held some significance in her mind. Though now, her thoughts of him were beginning to lessen, and she was sure that they would never meet again.
She wrapped her big winter coat tightly around her petite figure, then bent down to fasten her dog's harness and give him a quick pat before walking out of her apartment. She shared the elevator down with a man and a woman, and unavoidably listened to their conversation.
"Did you hear they're withdrawing all patrols after sun-down?" the woman asked.
"Yeah, 'cause too many of them are getting infected," the man replied.
"But after sun-down is when we need them the most!"
"We don't need 'em wasting military resources when there's an easier solution: just don't go out at night." The man did not seem to share her concern. "The only people out at night are thugs and looters anyway."
"That's exactly the problem!" the woman exclaimed, becoming increasingly agitated. "The nights are just going to be overrun by gangs and the infected!"
"Then let the gangs and the infected kill each other."
The conversation continued after the elevator stopped at ground floor. The couple rushed off ahead and she could no longer hear what they were saying. As they opened the front door of the building, she felt a gust of chilling wind blow right through her, penetrating all her layers down to the bone. Her body shuddered involuntarily. When she stepped out onto the street, the smallest amount of warmth could be felt from the morning sun, but not enough to overcome the chill. She joined behind a small group of people all walking in the same direction, heading towards the town hall where food rations were distributed on the forth day of every week.
She heard an eager voice behind her. "Excuse me… Hey there. Hello?" Then she felt a tap on her shoulder that made her jolt. She realized this unfamiliar voice had been calling out to her. She tensed up.
"Yes?" she replied.
"Hi… um… my name's Ephraim Goodweather. Can I talk to you?" the man's voice said. He started walking alongside her.
"What do you want?" she asked coldly, picking up her pace.
"I was hoping you could help me with something."
"I'm pretty sure you can see I'm not in a position to help anyone," she said, cautious that this was a setup for some sort of misdeed.
"I want to talk to you about Doctor Graeme Price." This made her stop. She turned to him with a look of curiosity and concern. He continued, "I was told that you know Doctor Price, and that he's here in New York… working on a vaccine."
Her look of concern now turned to a look of astonishment. "You were told? By who?" Her voice was stern, with a hint of hostility.
Ephraim sensed her defensiveness. "Look, a… uh… friend of mine helped you the other night. He said you told him about Doctor Price, and the vaccine…" He could see the thoughts processing in her head; there was a slight moment of confusion, and then realization. The look on her face changed. Although he could not quite read her expression, he could sense that her guard was momentarily down, so he continued before she could say anything, "He said I'd find you here. Look, I need your help… or, I was hoping we could help each other. I used to work for the CDC. I'm an epidemiologist…"
"Sorry, what did you say your name was?"
"Ephraim Goodweather."
The name suddenly dawned on her, "Doctor Ephraim Goodweather?"
"Yeah…"
"…who lead the CDC Canary Team?"
"Yep, that's me."
"I know who you are," she said, as she turned to continue walking, slowly this time, almost inviting him to walk along with her. "You know, when this whole thing started, we were all looking to you for an answer."
He laughed softly. "Well, now I'm looking to Doctor Price for answers."
They walked together down the street, awkwardly trying to get past the small talk so they could get to more important matters, such as the reason why Ephraim so eagerly sought her. The whole time he walked with her, he could not help but notice her vulnerability, watching her careful steps and alertness to every stimulus. He wondered what it must be like to be blind in times like these. He instantly felt sympathy for her, though perhaps inflated by the fact that she was a young and attractive woman, and that was often his weakness. Every now and then, when they crossed the street, or when there was a step in the pavement, he felt compelled to put his hand gently on her back and guide her where she was walking. And every time, she awkwardly pulled away, too politely subtle for him to notice, until she finally said, "It's ok, that's what Caesar's here for", motioning to her guide dog.
Doctor Goodweather started to talk about his research, but in the back of her mind she thought about this so-called friend of his – the nameless stranger who had been on her mind so many times since that night. However, the conversation did not leave room for her ask. Besides, the information that Doctor Goodweather was telling her was far too interesting. He described how he had created a virus of his own, that was able to infect the infected, killing them – a biological weapon against the creatures that terrorized humanity. She interrogated every detail of his research, and he answered all of her questions until she was satisfied that what he was saying was genuine.
Finally, she smiled. It was the first time that he saw her expression lighten. "You know, Doctor Goodweather…"
"Please, call me Eph," he smiled back, even though she could not see.
"Your reputation for being the CDC cover-boy precedes the reputation for your work," she grinned. "But I'm surprised; this is actually impressive."
He wasn't quite sure how to interpret her seemingly backhanded compliment. But her smile reassured him that she was only being facetious. However, he knew there was also truth behind what she said – when he worked for the CDC, he was most known for his media presence. Because of his handsome looks and ability to charm an audience, he was often the distraction tactic thrown in front of the media whenever the CDC needed to cover something up. And for that reason, those who knew the truth hated him. Rumours also began spreading that he charmed his way to the top of his career, undermining the fact that he was actually a brilliant doctor.
On the road next to them, a patrol vehicle rolled past with its loud engine rumbling. On top of the truck sat a group of soldiers, heavily armoured and carrying assault rifles. The expressions on the soldiers' faces were tired and worn, and their eyes were lifeless. They sat slumped like defeated men, no longer dignified or distinguished by their uniforms. At that moment, they were not soldiers, but simply men... boys... stripped down to their bare humanity, gripped by fear, exhaustion and hopelessness.
When they reached the town hall, a large queue of people had already formed, starting from the tall wooden doors of the entrance, down the large stone steps, and all the way along the side of massive brick building. They joined the back of the line, which was moving forward ever so slowly. Those who had already received their rations were standing around on the street, rummaging through their tattered cloth bags, eager to find something more than bread, potatoes and canned food. On good weeks, there would be meat, eggs, cheese, and other things.
Several armed military personnel walked up and down the line, eyeing the people like they were dangerous criminals rather than civilians. One soldier carried a loudspeaker. "Have your meal cards and your IDs ready. Citizens, have your meal cards and your IDs ready," he blared into the speaker as he walked down the line.
She slipped her hand into her jacket pocket, brushing past the gun that she always kept with her, before reaching for her ID and meal card.
"Mia… Carrera," Ephraim leaned over and read her name on the ID card that she held in her hand. "Well it's nice to meet you Mia."
Instinctively, she held the card close to her chest. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself," she realized.
"Doctor Carrera?"
"Actually, I'm not a doctor," she smiled bashfully. "I just worked at the lab with Doctor Price."
"So, where is his lab?" Ephraim asked, getting back on topic. "I didn't know there are still research facilities running in the city."
"There isn't," she replied. "They've all been shut down… Abandoned. All the facilities are just sitting there, so why not use them?"
"How did he manage to get permission from the Authorities?"
"Permission?" she grinned.
"Wait, you mean he's not actually doing this in a strictly… legal manner?"
For a moment, she dreaded that she had revealed too much to Ephraim – a man that she really knew nothing about. What if he was working with the Council? This information would surely have Doctor Price arrested, or worse. "Where are you doing your work?" she queried him.
"I don't even have a lab," he shrugged. "Just set up in a warehouse with some equipment I borrowed from a high school."
"You couldn't get a grant from the Council to have you set up somewhere?"
"Pff, the Council!" he laughed, oblivious to the fact that she was testing him to see where his allegiances lay. "They have no interest in science. That's why they shut down all the labs and put all the resources into the military. Violence solves everything!" he exclaimed sarcastically. "But science… well that shit's useless."
She smiled.
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by loud and frantic yelling, cutting through the murmur of voices from the crowd. Startled, the crowd fell silent and all heads turned towards the sound. Near the front of the queue, a man in his forties, dressed in dirty jeans and an old grey ski jacket, charged at one of the soldiers and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform.
"Thieves! You're all fucking thieves!" he screamed into the face of the stunned soldier. "This food belongs to the people! You can't treat us like dogs! You can't enslave us!"
Recovering from his initial shock, the soldier broke free from the man's grip and slammed the butt of his rifle into his face, sending him stumbling back. Blood began pouring from his nose and his mouth. The crazed man reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. But before he could take aim, the soldier's rifle had taken a single precise shot, and the powerful bullet penetrated the man's head, also killing a civilian behind him. A spray of blood landed upon others standing close by, and screams of panic followed.
Mia's hand wrapped tightly around the handle of the gun in her pocket. Her heart was pounding. Ephraim put his arm around her and moved her a few paces back, even though they were not close to the commotion to begin with.
"What's happening?" she asked anxiously.
"Some guy attacked one of the soldiers."
Then, another gunshot scattered the crowd and people near the front began running, scared and panicked. There were several more gunshots, and amidst the chaos, Ephraim could see dead bodies sprawled across the stone steps of the building. A patrol vehicle, possibly the same one that passed earlier, pulled up outside the hall and several soldiers quickly dispatched from the vehicle. Ephraim knew it was time to get out of there; he grabbed Mia's hand and pulled her into the side street next to the hall.
"The rations…" she gasped.
"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll get our rations another day," he reassured. "Come on, let's get out of here."
They hurried away from the town hall, walking as quickly as Mia could, only slowing down when the chaos was far enough behind them. The gunfire down the street had stopped, but an air of panic lingered over the city.
"You ok?" Ephraim asked.
"Yeah…" she uttered, catching her breath, as she politely broke free from Ephraim's hand. "What happened back there?"
"I have no idea. Who the hell knows what's happening around here anymore."
"We should get off the streets," she said. "We should go home and see if there's any news on the radio."
"I'll walk you back," Ephraim offered, a little too eagerly.
"No," she quickly replied. "I'm fine. I'm used to getting around by myself."
He walked with her a little bit, to the end of the street, where they were due to go their separate ways. He asked her several times if she was sure she did not want his escort, but she insisted. They stopped at the corner of the street in front of an empty old bar with smashed windows, where a fire had also torched parts of the inside. They turned to each other to say their goodbyes.
"I'll talk to Doctor Price," she said. "He'll be interested to hear about your work. I'll let you know when he's able to meet you."
"Yeah, that would be great," Ephraim said enthusiastically. "Let him know I'm interested in working with him. I think it's going to take more than one brilliant mind to crack this thing!" he smiled. Then, slightly embarrassed, Ephraim paused before asking, "And um, also… I kinda need a favour…"
Another favour? Mia thought. This made her nervous. She didn't like favours, nor did she like asking for them – she thought it was too often a gateway to the abuse of privileges.
"You see," he said, "the lab I have set up at the warehouse isn't much of a lab. I need proper equipment, and facilities..."
"So you want to take some equipment from the lab?"
"Well…" he considered how to word his request. "Actually, I was hoping to move my work into a proper lab." Before she could say anything, he quickly added, "Some things are kinda hard to set up in a warehouse, you know – like a cold room, imaging systems, a floor centrifuge…"
"I'll speak to Doctor Price," she replied with slight uncertainty. "So, how do I contact you?"
"Here, take this." He pulled out a satellite phone from his pocket and entered a number. "The number is already set on the screen, so just press this button to call it." He placed the phone in her hand and moved her finger over the 'call' button. "I guess I'll hear from you soon."
"Yeah," she said, giving him a brief smile before she turned and walked away.
Ephraim watched her for a while as she walked down the street, her long brown hair fluttering behind her in the breeze. He didn't imagine her to be so beautiful when Quinlan told him about her. "Blind woman; likely to have a dog with her. Brown hair, moderate height, age late twenties to early thirties," Quinlan had said, and he described her so methodically, without any sentiment or allusion to her beauty, like any man would have. But then again, what more did he expect from Quinlan? Ephraim smiled to himself, and then began to make his way back to the warehouse.
That night, the citizens of New York sat by their radios and listened to the broadcast. It announced that two men had initiated an attack on military personnel during the ration distribution. They were believed to be affiliated with an anti-military group who called themselves Nemesis. The same group was responsible for the fall of Boston over a year ago when they blew up the power plant, sending the whole city into eternal blackness. Within weeks, civil war broke out; the streets were overrun by human violence during the day, and the infected during the night. The military completely lost control. Hundreds of soldiers died, or turned, and those who were left were ordered to pull out of the city. Since then, Massachusetts has been off the grid; complete radio silence. No one knows if anyone is still alive in there.
In other ominous news, as Mia had heard in the elevator, the broadcast announced that the military would no longer be patrolling the streets at night. This meant two things – one; that the military were at a strain for resources, and two; that they were losing the battle for control over the night. Those who partook in devious activities saw this as good news; they could conduct whatever matters they wished during the night with absolute freedom, as long as they were willing to share the streets with the infected. But those who were smarter knew that the mayhem created in the night would not be contained within the night, and would soon spew over into the day. It was the beginning of the inevitable fall of New York.