Pandora's Wake: The Nomad Chronicles 1

Part 1

Prologue

  The night sky was the clearest it had been for a long time, gazing upon it now in all it's glory, Knut could almost forget that the world he once knew was gone.
  It seemed at once both peaceful and in some way almost obscene that the universe would tick on as if nothing had happened whilst Earth screamed in pain, her agonizing death throws ignored by a disinterested cosmos. The Other-Verse had come crashing over the unprepared world, and ever since then, Knut had been running.
Except for tonight.
Tonight they had finally found a place that seemed safe – at least for now.

  The old camp site was overgrown and neglected, but at least the weeds that over ran it were terrestrial in origin. There were no sickly purple fronds or deadly red blossoms here. Nor could the caravan's reconnaissance element find any sign of alien fauna in the area. Tonight, they had made camp and let their guard down, just a little. Well, perhaps not let it down, Knut smiled to himself as he saw the silhouette of Oberfeldwebel Joanas Uilrich as he paced backwards and forwards along the roof of the airport bus which the nomads had pressed into service as a mobile home for Madam Monnier and her three children. The gruff German sergeant had been with the UN Counter Alien Incursion Force in Eastern Europe before it collapsed and despite his gruff, hard exterior he had a soft spot for children, dogs and chocolate.  Hence he had made it his personal mission to see that no harm came to the Monnier's. Oberfeldwebel Ulrich peered out towards the road as he paced, his night vision goggles snapped into place. If anything did try and approach the camp-site tonight from the north or the east, it would be unlikely that it escaped Ulrich's notice.

  The west and south approaches were watched by Uilrichs Unteroffizier, Kurt Balchmire – a very different man to his staff sergeant, despite the corporal's irreverent humour it seemed the two men worked well together and were as close to friends as men separated by several ranks ever were. Balchmire sat in the copula of the heavily armoured combat vehicle they had used to escape the eastern collapse and rescue Dr. Almandinger and her Nurse, Cherubin Lukeba. Knut didn't know the details of their escape and their flight across a ravaged Switzerland, but then it hardly mattered now. They were all here and had served the nomads well. Balchmire swept his observation area every few minutes – his hands resting on the control handles of the fearsome 50 caliber machine gun mounted in the MRAP's turret. He had been good enough to train several of the nomads in it's use – in case of emergencies – but loathed actually letting them crew it if it could be avoided.
  It couldn't, of course. Even Balchmire had to sleep sometime. Lately he had taken to doing most of his sleeping by day, so he could man the 50 by night – the time of greatest vulnerability for the nomads.

A sneeze broke Knut's train of thought, he looked round as Oberfeldwebel Ulrich doubled over to sneeze again, a violent explosive sneeze that would certainly alert anyone to their presence, should such a person be lurking in the darkness. Ulrich muttered something mildly obscene in German and Knut suppressed a chuckle before calling up to him in a horse stage whisper,
  “Is everything aright Oberfeldwebel?” He used the staff sergeant’s official title, although it was somewhat redundant now. Nevertheless, Knut thought it seemed appropriate somehow.
  “Ja Professor” the soldier answered in Norwegian – Knut's native tongue. Knut winced – his German was a lot better than the sergeant’s Norwegian, but the soldier seemed determined to try.
  “There must be something near by that flowers the pollen in the night, Ja? Allergies!” he clarified.
  Knut grunted an affirmative and returned to the center of the camp. The nomads – a rather fanciful name for a band of rag-tag survivors who were all running away in the same direction and had banded together for a modicum of protection – had surround their camp with their vehicles. In the center they now sat on a variety of folding chairs, crates and storage boxes, sharing stories and passing about a bottle of what passed for Vodka that Magda Zwolinski had "found" among her personal gear. Knut took the proffered bottle from her as he arrived in their midst and took a swig before passing it on to Father Businger, a priest before the event, Businger seemed to be adapting to the new world better than Knut would have expected for a man of God faced with such an apocalyptic event. The middle aged priest chugged some of the Vodka before passing it on as he shuddered and muttered something in Swiss-German that Knut didn't catch. It was probably a comment about the “Vodka”. Where Magda had acquired it he shuddered to think – he wasn't actually entirely certain she hadn't refined it from the fuel of one of the convoy's many vehicles. She had an almost unending supply of it though – which in itself baffled Knut – but he had decided weeks ago it was best not to ask the civil engineer too many questions on the matter. It was not that he was afraid she would be offended by the questions – more that he was worried he would be alarmed by the answers!

A peal of laughter rang out across the night as Cherubin finished the joke he had been telling. Knut smiled, although he had missed the joke itself, it gladdened him that his people – which is how he had come to see them – could still laugh, despite everything they had been through. In the near distance Ulrich sneezed again, as if in answer to him Magda barked out a series of three sharp, explosive sneezes.
  “Great!” she grumbled “Now that damn German even has me sneezing at his command!”,
The assembled nomads guffawed with laughter, Magda's dislike of all things German was well known, and she seemed to resent that often the caravan's safety depended on two former German soldiers.

The side door to the airport bus swung opened and Madame Monnier peered out, her Gallic features washed to a pallid white by worry. A detail Knut failed to notice at first as he offered an apology,
  “We did not mean to wake the children Madam, please, accept my apologies...” he trailed off as her worried face began to register,

“It is not that,” she spoke with a higher pitch than usual, clearly her already thinly stretched nerves were on the verge of breaking, “It is Camile and Sebastien – something is not right! Doctor, will you come and see them?”

Dr. Selina Allmendiger nodded and stood up, swallowing a mouthful of Vodka as she passed the bottle back to one of the others, she trotted to the bus, with Cherubin in tow.
“I am certain it is nothing to worry about Margot, but I will have a look” she smiled to comfort the French woman who had already been through so much with the loss of her husband and eldest son – but there was something about the doctor's tone that did not match the smile upon her lips.

She was more worried than she wished Margot Monnier to know.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Knut looked back and forth between the troubled faces of the two women, Dr, Allmandinger, a skilled physician who had been with Medicin Sans Frontiers when the first diseases from the Other-Verse hit, and Ashley Kane, an English botanist – he had no idea how she came to be in central Europe but he didn't much care one way or another.

Dr Allmandinger had called the pair of them over as soon as she had emerged from the Monnier bus – it was not lost on Knut that she had left Cherubin, her Congolese-Belgian nurse, with the children and their mother. It was the doctor who spoke first, taking a deep breath she spoke in English,
  “It is some form of allergic reaction.” she began “They are both prone to such things, and the boy has Asthma – the pollen – if that is what it is – has triggered an attack. Cherubin is administering steroids now but we do not have many left! You will notice there are others effected in the group.”
Knut nodded, even his eyes and nose were beginning to itch, his lungs already felt heavy and breathing was growing more difficult than it had been before. This despite him never having had hey fever or any other allergy he could recall.
“Could it be some form of night blooming plant?” he asked, his eyes settling on the Botanist, who's face was already beginning to puff out – her eyes and nose reddening. She wheezed as she answered,
“Yes and no!” she looked worried, “It is certainly something that is releasing something – but I am given to think it is spores not pollen – something fungal I think. Can you feel the pain in your lungs yet?” she asked.
  Knut just nodded dumbly as the botanist went on, “And I don't think it is native to here” she said pointedly,
  “To this part of Switzerland do you mean?” Knut asked, although in the pit of his stomach he felt he already knew the answer to that – and he prayed he was wrong.

He wasn't.

Ashley shook her head,
“No I mean I don't think it is from Earth...” she looked from Knut to the doctor, “Did you understand what I said?” she asked after several seconds of silence. The Caravan was made up of survivors from across half of Europe and the number of different languages they spoke could make conversation difficult sometimes.
  “Yes” Knut sighed, “I just...” he shook his head, “What do you need?” he asked Dr. Almandinger.
  The Swiss medic let out a long breath “Ideally?” she asked, “A full hospital pharmacy and the hospital to go with it – if this is fungal we are going to need to treat everyone and soon – and there is a risk of secondary infection...” she trailed off, the look of alarm in Knut's face prompted her to change tack...
  “There is a town a few hours up the road – I recall it had a hospital that should have everything we need.”
  Knut nodded “But will they still be friendly towards visitors? Especially those that need some of their precious medical resources?” he pondered.
  “I don't think we have a choice – we need to find out and we need to find out quickly” Ashley warned, “If they turn us away... well, I don't think this is going to go away on it's own, and some of those spore infections from the Other-Verse...” she didn't finish her sentence – she didn't need to. They had all heard the rumors.
  Knut shuddered at the thought – or was it the cold? He tried to convince himself.
“Okay, tell the others to break camp, we had better get moving. I don't like travelling at night but..”
  “There is more” Ashley  cut him off, the shock of it startled Knut – Ashley was not known for rudeness or speaking over others, “We have to find the source and destroy it!” She almost growled – again, this was out of character and Knut began to fear the spores had begun to effect her, just as the rumors said they would, changing those who fell under their spell into violent and aggressive savages.

As if reading his mind Ashley shook her head, “No it isn't that, don't worry – I mean, if the wind changes these spores could just as easily reach us in the town – and worse – if these are the things we have heard about and anyone else blunders into them – we could have God alone knows how many violent psychopaths roaming around out here – and if they find us...”
  “When!” Dr. Allmendinger sighed – she had seen the people taken by the alien spore madness before, if not for the two Germans, neither her nor Cherabin would ever have escaped them – as it was Kurt and Joanas had been two of 20 soldiers that had come to evacuate her medical station – and the others had all either succumbed to the madness or died fighting those that did.
  “It isn't a matter of if, it is a matter of When. - Ashley is right. We don't have a choice!”
  Knut groaned, but nodded,
  “Tell the others to pack up as fast as they can, I will arrange for a team to separate off and go looking for the alien plants – but the rest of us have to start heading for that hospital now – it may already be too late for the children!

To be continued...