Disappearance by Trevor Zaple

Author:Trevor Zaple [Zaple, Trevor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781988863849
Publisher: Digital Science Fiction, an imprint of Digital Fiction Publishing Corp.
Published: 2018-10-01T23:00:00+00:00

They came to the houses and Emily pushed Olivia down the widest of the alleys that they could find. The passage was a tight squeeze, and the walls seemed to be coming in towards Mark. Fine time to develop claustrophobia he thought bitterly, but then they were out into the backyards, where they stopped for a moment. Emily got into the knapsack and reloaded her rifle, the cartridges clicking into place louder than Mark would have liked. She checked his holster and made a slight adjustment, and loosened the bonds on Olivia’s hands. Olivia rubbed at her wrists and then put her hands to her belly. Her breath was beginning to roll faster out of her lungs, and she seemed to be in pain. Emily looked at her sharply.

“Contractions?” she asked intently, and Olivia nodded, gasping. Emily swore under her breath and then looked to be deep in concentration. Then she nodded, seemingly to herself.

“Come on,” she said, and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair.

She lead them out onto a residential side street; they headed south and then Emily lead them down the first turn on their left. They continued in this direction for blocks, passing more interchangeable, decaying houses, and then they came to a T-junction. Emily turned left without even pausing, and Mark found it difficult to keep the pace. His legs were on fire, nearly numb, and his breath was coming only with effort. There was a pounding headache forming over his right eye, and he felt wearier than he could ever consciously remember feeling. He began walking with his head watching his feet, making sure he wasn’t going to stumble, and ignoring their surroundings. The gun in his hand kept getting heavier; his fingers were beginning to slip on the grip.

Then, seemingly ages later, they emerged onto a wide street cut through with steel streetcar tracks.

“Dundas,” Emily proclaimed, and waved them eastward. Her pace slowed once they turned onto the street, and Mark found it easy to keep up. He looked at her in askance, and she grinned.

“This is the Mayor’s domain, now,” she said, and Mark realized that there was no real humor in that grin. “His police will at least ask you questions before they blow your head off”.

The slower pace, while nice at first, soon became a source of even more agony. As he was able to relax, he began feeling every sore, burning area in his legs and back. They seemed to drag him down even further. He looked around and saw candles burning in the window of what appeared to be a small bar. The light startled him; it had been some time since he had seen lights from a window.

“The Press Club,” Emily remarked when she saw his interest. “Even at the end of all things, you can find a couple of people there. Now, it’s a pair of the Mayor’s police, but regardless. I’ve stopped in there before, not long ago. They’ve secreted a stash of batteries for their music, and they still keep a good stock of tea to replace the beer taps”.

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