The Atlantis Plague

CHAPTER 22

 

Church of St. Mary of Incarnation

 

Marbella, Spain

 

 

Kate woke the boys quickly and corralled them out of the church. In the courtyard, Martin was waiting impatiently. The heavy backpack hung from his shoulders and a worried expression clouded his face. Beyond the courtyard, Kate saw why. An endless crowd of people coursed through the street, running madly, blindly, their feet pounding the cobblestones. This was the rumbling Kate had heard. The scene reminded her of the running of the bulls in Pamplona, another Spanish town in the state of Andalusia.

 

In the corner of the courtyard, two dogs lay dead against a whitewashed wall of the church. The boys struggled to cover their ears.

 

Martin closed the distance to her and took Adi’s hand. “We’ll carry them.”

 

“What’s going on?” Kate managed as she hoisted Surya up.

 

“The gas was for the dogs, apparently. The Immari are closing the envelope, rounding up everyone. We need to move quickly.”

 

Kate followed Martin into the flow of people. Without gas clouding her view, Kate noticed that the narrow streets were crowded with debris from the fall of Marbella: burned-out cars, looted merchandise like TVs, and overturned tables and chairs from the long-abandoned cafes that lined the streets and alleyways.

 

The sun was rising over the buildings that lined the street, and she squinted her eyes, trying to shield them from the intermittent blasts of light. Little by little she acclimated, and the constant thunder of feet became background noise for an early morning run.

 

Someone slammed into the back of Kate, almost throwing her to the ground. Martin caught her by the arm and steadied her as they pressed on. Behind them, a new group of runners was pushing through the crowd at even higher speeds, pushing past the joggers. Kate saw that some were sick—a day without Orchid was already letting the symptoms of the Atlantis Plague reemerge. They looked panicked, wild.

 

Martin nodded to an alleyway ten meters ahead. He mouthed some words Kate couldn’t hear, but she followed his lead, edging closer to the buildings that flanked the thoroughfare. They ducked into the alley as more bodies filled the tiny hole they left in the crowd.

 

Martin pressed on and Kate tried to keep up. “Where are they going?” she asked.

 

Martin stopped, put his hands on his knees, and panted. At sixty, he was far less fit than Kate, and she knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain this sort of pace for long. “North. To the mountains. Fools,” he said. “They’re being herded. We’re close to the rendezvous point. Come on.” He lifted Adi again and resumed walking down the narrow alley.

 

The rumble from the flowing mass of people behind them faded as they moved east, to a deserted part of the city. Here and there, Kate heard stirring in the seemingly empty buildings. Occasionally a small creature—a raccoon, cat, or rabbit—would scurry out of the building, and at the sight of Kate, Martin and the boys, dart away. They had survived the gas, Kate thought. Maybe they would inherit the city and the world when humans had finished with each other.

 

Kate thought she heard footsteps in the buildings several times, but she never saw anyone.

 

Martin nodded to the buildings. “They can either run or hide.”

 

“Which is smarter?”

 

“Hiding. Probably. After the Immari clear the city, they’ll evacuate their forces to the next town. At least, that’s what they’ve done in other countries.”

 

“If hiding is safer, why are we running?”

 

Martin eyed her. “We can’t risk it. And the SAS will get you out.”

 

Kate stopped. “Get me out.”

 

“I can’t come with you, Kate.”

 

“What do you mean—”

 

“They’re looking for me, too. And if the Immari have pushed north, there will be checkpoints. If they capture me, they’ll be on the lookout for you. I can’t risk giving you away. And there’s something… I need to find.”

 

Before Kate could protest, the roar of diesel engines rang out from the cross street ahead. Martin raced to the opening of the alleyway and knelt at the corner of the building. He drew a small mirror from his pack and held it out, angling it so that he could see into the street. Kate steadied herself beside him. A large truck with green canvas covering its cargo section, similar to the one Kate had seen bringing the survivors into the camp, was slowly creeping down the street. Soldiers with gas masks fanned out beside it. They were going door to door, sweeping the houses. In the street behind them, a cloud of gas rose up.

 

Kate began to speak, but Martin rose quickly and motioned to the narrow passageway between the buildings near the middle of the alleyway. They resumed their frantic pace as they rushed through the cramped space.

 

Several minutes into their run, the narrow corridor opened onto a larger alley, which flowed into an open-air promenade with a large stone fountain.

 

“Martin, you have to come with us—”

 

“Stay quiet,” Martin snapped. “This isn’t a discussion, Kate.” He stopped just shy of the promenade. He got the small mirror out of the pack again and held it up to catch the sunlight. Across the square, flashes of light mirrored his gesture.

 

Martin turned to her just as explosions rocked the square and dust filled the air. Kate’s ears rang, and she could barely see through the dust. She felt Martin grab her arm, and she in turn grabbed Adi and Surya as they waded out into the chaos erupting in the courtyard.

 

Through the settling dust, Kate saw Immari troops pouring in from the side streets and alleyways. Soldiers wearing Spanish military uniforms—no doubt the SAS extraction team Martin had signaled—took cover behind the massive stone fountain and opened fire on the Immari. Within seconds the sounds of grenades and automatic gunfire became deafening. Two of the SAS soldiers fell. The remaining men were outnumbered and surrounded.

 

Martin tugged at Kate, pulling her toward a street to the north. Just as they reached the opening, a wave of people rolled in from the cross street and flowed toward Kate, Martin and the boys.

 

Kate looked back at the square. The last pops of gunfire faded, leaving only the sound of thunder—the rumble from the wall of people bearing down on them. The SAS soldiers lay dead, two in the now-red water of the fountain, two others facedown on the cobblestone street.

 

 

 

 

 

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