Demise of the Living by Iain McKinnon

eerie.
    Delicately, he nudged the
frequency button, pushing the radio’s receiving range a fraction
higher. He paused for a moment, trying to listen through the
static. He wandered a few feet to the right and held the phone up
just above eye level. Every time he moved, the static changed
subtly and he would freeze, trying to hear through the noise for
the human voice underneath. When he was sure there was nothing
there, he tapped the button again and repeated his protocol.
    It wasn’t long before a voice
started wafting in through the interference. He found himself
wandering closer to the window, catching snatches of a man’s voice.
Unable to make anything out, he pushed the frequency up. The voice
became slightly more distinct. Odd snatches of sentences escaped
the fizzing sea of interference.
    Colin found himself at
the south-facing window looking out across the city. The lay of the
land casually sloped as it made its way to the ocean only a few
miles from here. On a clear day he had no doubt he could see all
the way to the coast, but looking out of the window now, there was
light smog. The summer’s clear blue skies had tendrils of smoke
snaking their way up from the hundreds of sporadic fires the chaos
had spawned.
    Colin pushed the frequency
higher, still trying to hear past the electronic smog, and there it
was. The hiss melted away to reveal an audible voice.
     
    ***
     
    “Listen, that’s all I can do
for you,” Stephen said coldly.
    “ My son needs help. You
can’t just turn us out,” Liz pleaded.
    “I need to get back home. I
can’t drive around the city all day,” Stephen said, looking at Liz
via the rear view mirror.
    “You can’t just abandon us or
your colleague,” Liz said franticly.
    “Gary’s just a security guard.
I don’t owe you or him anything,” Stephen said, the anger rising in
his voice.
    Gary gave a light moan and his
head rolled as if he were trying to muster the energy to join in
the argument. Over the hours of driving around, he and Grant had
become steadily worse. Now they were both uncommunicative,
sweating, and ashen-faced.
    “We’re not leaving until you
take us to a hospital,” Liz said firmly.
    Stephen turned around in
his seat. “There are no hospitals, Liz. You saw what they did—they
bombed it. What am I supposed to do, conjure one up?!”
    “ We need to get to a
doctor. They need medical attention.”
    “I can’t help you. Get out,”
Stephen demanded.
    “You have to help us,” Liz
cried.
    Melissa sobbed, “Ma, I’m
scared.”
    “ It’s okay,honey. Just be
quiet for now.” Liz turned back to Stephen. “Please, you have
to.”
    Stephen shouted, “I don’t
have to do anything! Now get the fuck out of my car!”
    “ Please ,” Liz begged.
    Stephen seemed to calm
down. He rubbed a hand over his tired face and then looked back at
Liz. In a measured voice, he said, “It’s the easy way or the hard
way. You choose.”
    “Are you threatening me?” Liz
asked.
    Stephen didn’t hesitate to
answer, “Yes.”
    He pulled the keys from the
ignition and stepped out.
    The alleyway felt narrower than
usual. There were a number of industrial-sized bins sitting ready
for refuse collection.
    He walked over to the
chain gate of the office parking lot and unlocked it. He pushed the
gate half open and stepped back to the car.
    “ Get out,” he said,
staring Liz in the eyes.
    The young girl Liz held
appeared terrified, and the boy looked like he was in a trance. In
the front seat, Gary was swaying gently, delirious with
fever.
    “Get out!” Stephen shouted, the
anger flushing his face red.
    He pulled open the front
passenger door and manhandled Gary out of his seat. The security
guard was drenched in sweat and far heavier than Stephen
anticipated.
    He stumbled backwards,
hauling at the docile man. Getting his feet out of the car, he
dragged Gary inside the gate and lay him down on the asphalt. As he
straightened up he heard the car door slam shut.
    Liz had