Chapter 557

The radio crackled, static mixing with the fragmented reports of unrest, disease, and a strange, aggressive sickness spreading through major cities. Teo, calloused hands tightening around the worn handle of his machete, didn't need a weatherman to know which way the wind was blowing, but it helped confirm what was about to hit him, in all senses of that phrase.

He'd seen things in his 61 years, things that would make a younger man's blood run cold, but this… this felt different, primal, like an ancient curse unearthed.

He was sitting on the porch of his small hut, overlooking the volcanic soil of Tanna Island. The familiar scent of the sea, normally comforting, was now tainted with a metallic tang he couldn't quite place. It felt wrong, intrusive, on a cellular level.

His grandson, Levi, five years old and full of mischief, was playing near the Banyan tree, seemingly oblivious to the mounting tension that thickened the tropical air. "Grandpa," Levi said, his voice sweet and clear, "will the birds be back tomorrow?"

Teo managed a weak smile. "Of course, they'll probably return in the morning. They're just resting, just as we will when night falls." He wished he could hold the truth from a child so that he didn't feel compelled to lie, but this wasn't a world for truth anymore.

But he knew it was a lie. The birds had abandoned their usual feeding and breeding grounds. Even the rats, a constant presence in his small, stilt-borne dwelling, were gone. Nature was telling a story he didn't want to hear, one he knew by heart but wanted to dismiss with everything in him.

Later that evening, after a simple meal of taro root and coconut milk, the first scream ripped through the twilight. It wasn't an animal sound. It was human, raw, and filled with a terror Teo had never known in his lifetime. It made everything about the previous few weeks completely pale by comparison.

Levi, already nestled in his sleeping mat, sat up, his small body trembling. "Grandpa, what was that? Who's calling?"

"It's just the wind, child. The wind is high tonight," Teo answered, his voice more gravelly than usual, as he felt he needed to add that final bit for reassurance, to add gravity to what he was saying.

More screams followed, closer this time. Then a guttural roar, a sound that seemed to tear the very fabric of the night. It was not a natural thing, Teo thought to himself with a wince. He stood up, his joints creaking in protest, and pulled Levi towards him. He then extinguished their one lantern, engulfing them in sudden, total darkness.

"Stay close to me, Levi," Teo said, his hand shaking as he gripped his machete. He could feel the tremors beginning, but these weren't coming from any seismic origin point.

Peeking through the woven bamboo walls of his hut, Teo saw them. Figures moved in the shadows, illuminated by the intermittent moonlight, shambling, unnatural, with jerky, broken steps. It wasn't quite like seeing anything in the daylight, but he saw enough to understand exactly what he was staring at.

Their eyes glowed with a sickly, faint-green light, and their skin was an awful grey-blue color. One of them, once a fisherman Teo recognized from the village, lunged at another villager, teeth bared in a gruesome display of hungry predation. He didn't want to watch, but he couldn't bear to turn his face away, either.

The metallic tang Teo had noticed earlier became overpowering, blending with the new scent of blood. Levi buried his face in Teo's side, whimpering softly, the small comfort he always relied on for reassurance when the world was scary and confusing.

"Don't look, Levi. Don't look," Teo whispered, his heart heavy with the dread knowledge of what he was being forced to face.

The night was consumed by horror. The sounds of the living battling the infected echoed around the island. Fires started in the distance, sending plumes of thick smoke that painted the sky in streaks of orange and black, and no one seemed to be able to get it under control.

Teo knew their home was no longer safe. He had to get Levi away, somewhere far from the infected. He planned his escape, every detail important for the survival of him and his small companion.

He wrapped Levi in a sling on his back, a traditional carrier that had been used by generations of their ancestors. He moved slowly, quietly, making sure to ensure that his feet fell softly against the hard dirt to help with sound suppression.

"Grandpa, I'm scared," Levi mumbled, his little body pressed tightly against Teo's back, and it gave the elderly man comfort, but not as much as one might anticipate.

"I know, little one. But Grandpa will protect you. I promise," Teo responded, knowing how empty the words sounded even as he spoke them. He meant them with everything he had, but he knew it wasn't enough, not even nearly.

As they crept through the bush, a figure emerged from the shadows. A woman, once beautiful, now twisted into a parody of life, her clothes torn and her eyes burning with that horrible, blank light. Her gaze focused on Teo, and he stared for a moment, knowing they had been seen.

"Mary?" Teo asked, recognizing his neighbor. He almost reached for her, the instinctive kindness of his people rising. But then she lunged, and he responded with instinctive ferocity, knowing that kindness could no longer exist in this broken world.

His machete flashed in the dim light, connecting with her neck. The creature fell, twitching, and he didn't stop, driving his weapon home until it was absolutely clear he wouldn't have to do so any further. It was overkill in the worst sense of the word, but now was not the time to take any chances.

"I'm sorry," Teo murmured, his voice cracking as his face contorted in sadness. He wasn't just mourning the death of Mary, but the death of his entire way of life. The way he lived with so many others.

He kept moving, finding a small, hidden cove where a dilapidated fishing boat was moored. It was old, but it would float. It would have to do so if they stood any chance of making it through.

"Where are we going, Grandpa?" Levi asked, his voice muffled against Teo's worn shirt, as the scent and comfort was likely overwhelming, and it probably felt natural to lay there, at least more natural than not.

"We're going to find a safe place, away from here, away from all of this. We must remain strong," Teo said, praying he could make it true, praying to all he'd ever held to be the truth.

The sea was rough, the little boat tossed about like a leaf in a storm. The small sail he raised snapped in the harsh wind, driving them further from Tanna, further from everything they had ever known, good or otherwise.

The rising sun revealed the full extent of the devastation. Other boats, many burning, were scattered across the sea. Bodies, both living and dead, floated among the wreckage, turning the calm sea into a violent tapestry of sadness.

On the horizon, a larger vessel appeared. A military ship, its flag whipping in the wind. Hope surged in Teo's heart, a feeling that he hadn't even known he had any more. He wasn't aware that it could manifest even a small amount.

"They'll help us, Levi! They'll help us," Teo said, raising his arm and shouting, trying to signal the ship.

The ship grew closer, and a voice boomed through a loudspeaker, cold and authoritative. "Unidentified vessel, state your intentions. Do you have any infected aboard?"

"No! No infected!" Teo yelled, relief flooding him. "It's just me and my grandson!" He looked down at Levi, whose wide eyes mirrored his own brief glimmer of salvation and release, his own little sigh of reassurance.

The response was swift and brutal. Cannons on the ship opened fire, the explosions deafening. Their small boat was torn apart in an instant, sinking beneath the waves as Teo's brief moment of hope twisted at the last possible second into crushing fear.

Teo held Levi tightly as they went down, the cold water engulfing them. He knew it was over. There would be no rescue. This ship, it was just cleansing the sea of anything contaminated, any potential risk, human or otherwise.

A final, awful truth dawned on Teo as the ocean depths claimed them. This wasn't a rescue mission. It wasn't a cure. It was a culling, intentional, cold, designed to drastically reduce the population. Humanity wasn't trying to fight this disease. It was spreading it.

As the light faded, Teo felt a strange calm, a relief from the impossible journey he was now on. Levi's tiny hand slipped from his grasp, the boy already gone, lost to the darkness, and this fact alone made Teo more broken than ever before.

In the final moment, as he gave himself over to the crushing, watery abyss, he felt a sense of twisted irony. The man-made catastrophe had taken everything. Not just the infected, but the innocent, the survivors, leaving the world clean and empty for those who remained, whoever they even were.

There would be no new stories for Levi, no songs, no memories. There was nothing left to pass on. No culture, no future. He felt anger in that briefest of fleeting moments, the raw emotion a man feels when it becomes apparent how he'd been wrong about almost everything.

The darkness embraced Teo, extinguishing the last light of his people. It would, eventually, extinguish all the others. But, not him. He would die with the awful truth that this horror wasn't some natural event, not a punishment from the gods.

It was created by men. Cold, calculating men. The radio messages hadn't lied about unrest and the sickness. They had failed to mention the ones pulling the strings, manipulating events like puppeteers playing with their grotesque dolls on a stage they constructed from nothing.

He felt nothing, save the sting of saltwater in his eyes, mixed, for the briefest moment, with the last tears he would ever cry for the people he'd just doomed with one moment of irrational and naive thought. A ship on the horizon never brought rescue or relief. Not any more.