“Explain… this… now.” Miss Weston sneers.
She slams a newspaper down on the desk. Sitting at the desk: A portly man with a long nose, brown eyes and short brown hair in a blue officer’s uniform bearing a badge with gilded borders. The chief of police, Arthur Porter, glances at the headline. He scans the words on the paper. Fear begins to set in.
“I… I don’t understand. Rats?? Spreading in my city?!” He snaps.
Porter snatches the paper to further read through it. A mixture of anger and anxiety brews inside alongside the fear. Weston crosses her arms. Her foot taps against the hardwood floor. Porter then places the paper back onto the desk.
“This sudden infestation of vermin didn’t just come out of the blue. With the city borders and ports all closed, there shouldn’t be any incoming supplies possibly contaminated with rats. This… is sabotage. Within our own city. I demand you conduct a massive investigation right now and get to the bottom of this. Our hands are tied as is with the Black Doctors out there in full force working to cure the infected with Rainmaker.”
“Y-you’re right director! I’ll make some phone calls. If I may ask though… Who do you think could be behind this?”
Weston paced the office. Her mind was pondering any possibilities.
“I wish I knew. Perhaps some underground criminal organization? A collective of anti-government rebels? There’s no way this is the work of a single individual. But this outbreak is no coincidence. Whoever is behind this… Is working against our efforts…”
Posters were being placed up all over the city in regards to the recent reports of rat infestations in non-quarantined boroughs throughout London:
ATTENTION! ALL CITIZENS ARE TO STAY ALERT FOR RAMPANT VERMIN! BE SURE TO REPORT ANY SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY TO LOCAL AUTHORITIES! SCOTLAND YARD IS CONDUCTING AN INVESTIGATION INTO THE MATTER. ANY INFORMATION YOU HAVE REGARDING THIS MATTER COULD BE VALUABLE.
Citizens were beginning to notice the severity of the situation. With the Crow’s Plague outbreak and now reports of rat infestations, the people of London were growing more worrisome over their own safety. Some groups had taken to protesting in populated areas, voicing their concerns and beliefs to the public. Conspiracies were spreading like wildfire; From terror groups planted into the city by other nations to cabals within the government. Unrest was brewing.
Queen Victoria looks out upon the city from her bedroom window. A lingering pain aches in her head. She presses the temple of her forehead with a couple fingers as she walks over to her desk and sits down. On the desk was a luxurious gold-plated telephone. She reached for it, turning a set of numbers on the rotary dial.
“Hello?” A low, raspy voice speaks from the receiving end.
“This is Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom. We’re undergoing a… rather extreme circumstance at this time.”
“Hmm. Go on, ma’am…”
“First the Crow’s Plague which we’re dealing with… Now it appears we have metaphorical rats within our own societal system. Reports of vermin cropping up in homeless encampments and residential housing. Scotland Yard is investigating the matter while the Institute continues their efforts in fighting the plague. I… hate to have to resort to ‘outside’ help but the public unrest grows as we speak.”
“I see. I understand foreign aid isn’t your specialty, milady. But if you are calling this number… It must be serious. We’ve been observing from across the seas. All of the world is watching. I am glad you decided to contact us though. You… care deeply for your nation. Your people…”
“I do. So… send the zeppelin. I’ll ensure you receive proper entrance into our city. You may dock at the airfield. I’ll have my private security meet you there. Unfortunately, my hands are tied right now so I regret to inform you that I will not be there in person.”
“Understandable. Will do. We’ll help out however we can. To ensure our nation’s relationship is as healthy as a newborn child.”
“Thank you. I’ll make sure your organization is well compensated for your aid.”
“I’d expect nothing less from you, milady. Good day to you.”
Carrie looks over to Zelma in the driver’s seat of the steam carriage. Rain patters the front windshield. She rounds the street corner, passing by a horse-drawn carriage filled with an entire family. Carrie recognizes this particular road. The houses. The lone antique store next to empty storefronts. She points to a house they were coming up on.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“There. That’s… my home.” She speaks quietly.
Zelma nods. She puts the brakes on as the carriage pulls up to the curb in front of the house. Carrie looks out at it in silence. Zelma places a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re finally back. You can go home now, dear.” Zelma says.
Carrie turns to face Zelma. Her radiant smile is infectious to Carrie. She smiles back. A tear falls from her eye.
“I was miserable. Taken from my family. My body slowly ailing as it fought that awful plague. Lonely. Separated. But you… You showed me a kindness I never thought I would get inside that damned place. Your company kept my sanity in check. Thank you… Zelma.”
Zelma pulls Carrie in for a hug.
“When all of this is over… Why don’t we get some tea together?”
They split off, holding each other’s shoulders. Carrie nods.
“I would… love that.”
“Lovely! I don’t have many friends or acquaintances. And despite the circumstance you were in, you were very easy to get along with.”
“Well, I… thank you. I’m looking forward to it. You know where to find me.”
Zelma waves to Carrie. She waves back before exiting the vehicle into the rain. She rushes towards the door and opens it up. A set of footsteps starts approaching from down the hallway. The blonde-haired man rounds the corner holding a baseball bat. His expression shifts from one of anger to one of relief. He drops the bat. Carrie smiles at him.
“Connor… I’m home. And… I’m cured.” She says.
“M-my love…” Connor whimpers.
The two rush towards each other and embrace. They look into each other’s eyes and kiss deeply. Rounding the corner is the couple’s son. His eyes widen at the sight of his mother returning. He runs over to them.
“Mother! You’re back!” He shouts.
“Lorian!” Carrie says.
She hugs her son. Connor joins them. The three of them embrace each other. A wave of warmth washes over the reunited family.
Corbeld watches as two steam carriages towing carts full of bodies passes by. He adjusts his black top hat and enters the crematorium. He passes by the front counter in the lobby and towards a room at the back. Inside the office, a man in a black dress shirt and slacks wearing a gray top hat is examining a clipboard. He hears Corbeld’s footsteps and turns around.
“Mister Collins.” Corbeld says.
“Corbeld.”
“What do you have there?”
“Oh this? The latest report from the Institute regarding victims of the plague. Truly a tragedy I daresay. Now I hear we have a vermin outbreak as well? God save us all.”
Corbeld cups his hands together and nods.
“Indeed, my good friend. It really is terrible. Did you hear that Scotland Yard is investigating the matter?”
“Why no I did not.”
“It’s true.”
“With the Institute finishing Rainmaker and working to cure people… It’s quite odd that an outbreak of rats hits us now. I do hope the authorities find the culprits behind this cruel act of treason.”
“As do I, mister Collins.”
Collins paces the floor then sets the clipboard down on his desk. He takes a cigarette out of the pack tucked into his breast pocket and pulls out a light from his pocket. He lights the cigarette, taking a puff.
“I daresay… This is overwhelming for all of us. And the worst part is that the Institute is burning the infected in quarantine zones so we don’t even profit from this catastrophe. Just awful.” Collins sighs.
Corbeld joins him in smoking. Both of the men take a seat in the red velvet chairs opposite to the desk. Corbeld takes a puff from his own cigarette.
“Right. Well, you have to understand that it reduces the risk of the plague spreading. Don’t forget that I work for the Institute.” Corbeld states.
“And just what ‘is’ your position there anyway, Corbeld?”
“Analytical Supervisor. The highest paper-pushing position. My assistant handles the paperwork while I’m out and about checking in with colleagues from other areas such as the government and gathering data for miss Weston. I am on my feet much more ever since this Crow’s Plague outbreak.”
“I see. Since you’re so well-informed on the happenings of current events… Inform me as to how the public is handling all of this as of late.”
“Not well. The public is growing furious. Protests are cropping up everywhere. And with boroughs being quarantined, residents being forced out of their homes and businesses closing down due to the outbreak, it’s all culminating into a melting pot of civil unrest.”
“Of course. Once this is all over… It will take months to recover.”
“Remain optimistic my friend. The Institute is working hard right now to deploy Rainmaker. We shall see how the government handles the vermin infestation however…”
Collins gets up to put his cigarette out in the glass ashtray on his desk. He leans on the desk, looking to Corbeld.
“You make sure you stay safe out there. After all, you’re a very busy man always on the move.” Collins says.
Corbeld nods. He gets up to put his cigarette out. The two shake hands. Corbeld heads for the door.
“By the way. Before you go…”
Corbeld turns around. Collins hands him a sealed envelope.
“What is this?” Corbeld asks.
“A copy of the death reports. Figured you may need this to show your boss.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
Corbeld slips the envelope into his coat then leaves. He steps out of the front doors to light another cigarette. He heads for the steam carriage. Once inside, he opens the envelope to take a gander at the contents. Printed on the paper is a list of every single victim of Crow’s Plague. However, much of the names listed do not contain last names. Corbeld smirks. He folds the paper, slipping it back into his coat.