The Quiet Dead

By Darke Conteur

In the middle of a deadly pandemic, forty-five-year-old Jolene Sadler hides out at her trailer in Wasaga Beach with her daughter and a few neighbours. Mainly it’s to get away from her abusive ex, but as the world falls apart, it becomes a refuge where they can ride out the pandemic in relative security, but things are never what they seem.

The world descends into a chaotic madness and desperation seeps into the camp along with the virus. Rumours spread that the illness makes people go mad, but Jolene witnesses another frighting affliction firsthand; resurrection of the dead. To complicate matters, her ex arrives at the campground and she is forced her into an ugly confrontation. Soon, their haven devolves into a graveyard and she and her small group are forced out onto the open road with few supplies and even fewer options.

As her ex and the dead haunt their every step, their journey culminates into a showdown for their lives, but sometimes a bad situation can turn the tide, especially when hopelessness leaves Jolene with only one option.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Darke Conteur
• Release date: Jul 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9780987944788

Darke Conteur

I want to tell you a story. It could be about zombies, earth-bound spirits, or metal monsters fueled by a mysterious, new power source. It could whisk you out beyond the stars; to space stations and other worlds, or deep into a virtual landscape that allows us to abandon our bodies but not our minds.I want to take you to all these places and more, but most of all, I want to entertain you.​Welcome to my worlds. The adventure is about to begin.

Book preview

CHAPTER

ONE

Friday, September 3rd

---

The odour of burnt food drifted across the room from a pick-up counter right next to the stand-up bar. Most of the food served at the strip club made forty-five-year-old Jolene Sadler’s stomach heave, but the stench of burnt fryer grease made it even more nauseating. A short, stout male uttered a loud string of Portuguese as he ran through a set of double doors. None of the other staff in the strip club moved. Their gaze was transfixed on the broadcast from a flat-screen on the wall next to the stage. The female reporter’s voice cracked as she spoke. She gave vague details about an emergency issued by the pilot of an international flight. Several of the passengers were seriously ill. Possibly with the new variant of a virus that had circulated the globe in a very short time. The reporter questioned the screening methods of the European Union and how they should never have been allowed to leave. Still, these Canadian citizens were repatriated in the middle of a pandemic. Either way, someone would pay for this politically.

A small stack of tables and chairs sat neatly in a far corner, with a few placed around an elevated stage. The barrier of plexiglass segments in front kept patrons from getting too close to the dancers. Most of the partitions were held together with grey duct tape, and some had expletives written across them in black marker—customers’ opinions on using the barriers.

The double doors swung open, and a middle-aged, balding male walked out; a mask dangled from one ear. His polyester suit was decades out of style, but the worry lines etched on his face concerned her.

He walked up to her table and dropped an envelope full of money in the middle. Here. This should do you till you find another job.

She gave him a sideways glance as she picked up the envelope. You don’t have to do this, y’know, Mr. Attar.

Javeed Attar rubbed the side of his jaw. Yeah, well, I kinda feel responsible for the asshole showin’ up here.

It’s not your fault.

He made a gesture toward the envelope. Yeah, well, at least I can help you lay low for a while. Least till he’s satisfied you don’t live ‘round here.

She thumbed the small stash of money. If Carmine finds out you’ve helped me—

Don’t worry. He motioned to the back office. I got Ol’ Lou to protect me.

She folded the envelope full of cash and tucked it into the pocket of her worn leather jacket. She’d waited tables here for a better part of a year. She used to think about leaving, but now that she actually was, she didn’t want to go.

A gasp echoed from the staff as the cook pushed open one of the heavy doors. The video was focused on the plane’s descent. The reporter noted the steep angle off-camera and commented that communication with the cockpit had stopped. The last message stated there was some disturbance with the passengers, and one had broken into the locked cockpit. The audio of the desperate conversation sent a chill through her. Why would they even air something like that?

Jolene pulled her gaze away from the television. She didn’t want to watch anymore. She didn’t care. This whole week went to shit when her abusive ex just happened to get an invite to a stag party hosted in the bar a few nights back. Now he knew where she worked. At least he didn’t know where she lived.

She pulled her mask down under her chin, gripped the tumbler tight, and raised it to her lips. A double shot of whiskey on the rocks. It was the cheap stuff, and she chuckled after the sip. The alcohol didn’t have its normal bite to it. Bartenders were watering down the liquor again. Anything to save a buck. At least she wouldn’t have to drink the shit anymore.

Javeed motioned to the back exit. Get outta here in case he shows.

More loud gasps from the staff forced her to look at the broadcast. A fireball filled the screen as orange and yellow flames engulfed what was left of the jumbo plane. A pit formed in her stomach at the realization. People around her sobbed; the reporter was at a loss for words, and Jolene decided it was time to go home. She downed the rest of her drink in two gulps and dropped the glass on the table. No one noticed her leave. Their attention was focused on the horror being broadcast in live HD.

She repositioned her mask, walked through the kitchen, and out the back delivery door. Outside, she unhooked it from one ear and inhaled deeply. A cool breeze swept down an almost empty Toronto street as she headed for the bus stop. She enjoyed the change of temperature. It was a nice relief from the oppressive heat that marked most of the summer. The long weekend was here, and it was supposed to be nice, but she wasn’t planning on going anywhere. This money would let her hide in her apartment for the next few weeks. Maybe a month. She was pretty sure her ex didn’t know where she lived, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She had friends who would get supplies for her if she needed them. She went out for them during the weeks-long lockdown they’d been under earlier in the year, and knowing her situation, they were more than happy to help her any way they could.

A group of young adults shouted on the other side of the street. The lockdown had been hard but seemed to work, and things went back to normal once it was over. Now, because of a new mutation, the virus was worse. It spread faster and was more deadly than the original. They were going to announce a second lockdown. She just knew it.

As a bus approached, she pulled the mask back over her nose. The trip home was a short ride to North York. There weren’t many passengers on the bus, and the few that did ride were distancing themselves from everyone else, especially from an older man at the front who coughed intensely into his elbow. When he moved his head, she saw a small area on the front of his mask was wet. He was coughing up fluid, and from the look of him, he wasn’t well at all. His eyes were glassy and more like a deep wheeze when he breathed in between coughs. A few passengers shared worried glances. Jolene looked the other way, silently hoping that his mask wasn’t one of the cheap ones.

She got off at her stop and hurried across Avenue Road to the library, trying to beat several of the oncoming ambulances. The sound of so many other emergency vehicles echoed in the distance. Probably all heading to Pearson. The library at the corner was closed. She’d planned on spending some free time there, but there wasn’t enough time to do anything else between her job, raising Kendra and her weekly meetings.

More sirens wailed in the distance. Their penetrating echo came from every direction as they bounced off the nearby apartment buildings. Another gust of cool air brought garbage and a few dead leaves swirling past her in the gutter. She crossed Wilson at Ridley and thought about her daughter, Kendra, and their argument earlier that day. She didn’t blame the kid for staying out late. Jolene did the same thing when she was young, including the drinking part. The last few years had been hard on both of them, and the girl was just trying to be a typical teenager when her world was anything but normal.

She headed for the convenience store neatly tucked into the corner of the ground floor of the seven-story apartment building. The store windows were replaced with several sheets of corkboard, with the words NO TOILET PAPER spray-painted in large red letters. There was a list of other things the store was out of written in black marker right underneath, and she gave it a quick look before going inside. She nodded at the Jamaican cashier behind the counter as she walked past. Most shelves were bare, with a few food items still available. She wandered down one aisle after another, looking for anything that might look interesting enough for a meal.

You’re finished work already? His voice was tired and slightly muffled through his mask.

She nodded and headed for the back of the store. I’ve been laid off.

I’m sorry to hear that.

Yeah, well, I guess the dancers are good at waiting tables too. She scanned the few canned food items on a shelf near the milk fridge. Your shelves are pretty bare.

Yeah, I’m having a hard time getting stock from the States.

She grabbed a couple of cans of condensed soup and walked up to the counter. That’s bullshit. Borders are closed to travellers, not commerce.

Yeah, but my guy says with this new virus variant, people are getting sick, and he can’t get people to work outta fear.

As she placed her card on the debit machine, voices from somewhere in the back grew louder. The clerk stood up from his stool and walked to the end of the counter. A lone male in his thirties came toward them.

The clerk looked concerned. DeShawn. You’re early.

Yeah, I know, Uncle. Momma just wants you outta here.

But the store? I have customers.

DeShawn came close to the older man and spoke quietly to him. Jolene couldn’t hear all of what he was saying, but a few words, ‘army’ and ‘blockade,’ made it to her ears. DeShawn took a long look at her before he stepped back. Aiden and the others are all set. We got your things packed and loaded in the car.

The older man nodded. Okay, let me finish with this customer, and then I’ll lock up.

Jolene nodded to the nephew as the clerk turned and walked back toward her.

He reached under the counter and brought up a small plastic bag with a few food items. I was wondering. Could you give this to a tenant in the building? It’s for Mrs. Scanlon on the first floor. Apartment 103. He looked concerned. It’s just a few items, staples, she calls them, and she’s quick to get them when the delivery truck arrives, but I haven’t seen her in over a week. An apologetic look came over him. I would do it myself. He paused. My nephew is taking my wife and me to Kingston. He smiled weakly. It’s safer there.

Jolene nodded. Yeah, that’s a good idea. She took a quick look at the contents. A few cans of baked beans, a package of noodles and a pack of cigarettes. Sure, no problem.

It’s the third apartment down on the left of the elevators. He reached down, brought up a few small bags of ketchup potato chips, and placed them in the bag. For your trouble.

Jolene’s expression softened. You don’t have to do that. I’m already heading that way.

It’s all right. I was going to give it to you anyway. He gave her a wink. I know how much that little girl of yours likes them.

Jolene stared at the small bag, stunned. I don’t know what to say. She picked up one of the potato chip bags. Thank you. You’re right. She’ll love these. She examined his face. His look of concern pulled at her emotions. I don’t even know your name.

Tarone.

Jolene. They extended their elbows and did a gentle bump. Nice to meet you, Tarone.

His eyes smiled. Likewise.

Stay safe.

He smiled weakly. You, too.

Tarone followed her out of the store and locked the door behind her. She turned to face him and pulled down her mask. She gave a curt nod and a smile before heading down the street.

The four apartment buildings behind the store stood silent in the late afternoon. The sun had begun to set, and a smoky haze hung low on the horizon to the west as a steady chorus of emergency sirens whined in the distance. She walked up the short street to the apartment entrance at the back of the building. The small playground sat empty, and she gave the area a quick look over. This didn’t feel right. The city had been out of lockdown for several weeks, but there was something inherently unsettling about an area that was usually a bustle of activity, now deathly still. Even the condos on the other side looked abandoned.

The hallways were quiet, and the plush carpet deadened her footsteps. The quietness was one reason she chose this place, but like outside today, it was an uneasy stillness. She found 103 just a short way from the entrance, quickly knocked on the door, and put her mask back on.

Mrs. Scanlon? I have some groceries here for you from the store? She waited a few moments and listened for the sound of movement. She knocked again. Mrs. Scanlon? Someone moved on the other side. It sounded more like a shuffle, and Jolene could see a shadow from under the doorway. She reached for the doorknob but hesitated as the shuffling stopped just on the other side. I have a bag of food for you. I’ll just leave it here by the door.

A hard THUD came from the other side, and the door slammed hard into the frame. Jolene dropped the bag and jumped back. With a second THUD, she grabbed the two small bags of potato chips, turned and headed down the hall toward the center of the building. She got into the elevator and pulled her hand into her sleeve before she pressed the button to her floor through the material. People could be disgusting. She couldn’t count how often she’d been sneezed on or coughed at. She hurried out of the elevator and down the corridor. Coughing came from behind several other apartment doors and brought back the image of the older man on the bus. Maybe Tarone and his nephew had the right idea? She and Kendra could head north to Wasaga Beach and the family trailer she inherited when her mother died. It would be a great place to lay low for a while.

Her apartment was small for a two-bedroom, but with the rent adjusted to accommodate her low income and right on a bus route, it was perfect for both of them. The best part was the junior high school nearby, and the fact that Kendra already had a few friends also didn’t hurt. She checked the clock on the wall. There was still an hour before she had to get Kendra from the neighbour’s place. The girl was too old for a babysitter, but she was grounded for a few days for staying out late and Jolene didn’t trust her not to go out. Jolene walked into the small kitchen and opened the fridge. She pulled out a container and threw it on the counter. She’d made Kendra’s favourite the other night, Kraft Dinner with wieners, and there were some leftovers. Along with the ketchup chips, she hoped this would put her in a good enough mood to talk about going to the trailer.

She grabbed the remote and turned on the television. All the channels were airing the plane crash. The image of a fireball replayed over and over. She dropped her coat on the couch and pulled out the envelope. The news would be this shit for days. Online would be worse. She walked into her bedroom and tossed it on the dresser. She stared at the row of photos against the dresser mirror. She picked up a picture of Kendra dressed in a Halloween costume, a homemade fairy princess her mother made. It seemed like yesterday she was that small, and a pang of guilt welled up as Jolene thought about where she was back then.

The blare of several emergency vehicles made her look out the window. One fire truck, several police cars and an ambulance raced past her building, but her focus was drawn away from the convoy to a black SUV with tinted windows in the library parking lot across the street. The same parking lot that was empty earlier.

Her heart raced. It looked familiar. Carmine had a couple of those gas hogs, but from this distance, she couldn’t see the license plate.

She returned to the living room as a breaking story interrupted the news feed loop. A young female reporter stood in front of the emergency room of the Humber River Hospital. She spoke calmly, but the look in her eyes betrayed her. She was worried—no, scared but kept it together to get the story out. Jolene grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. Humber took in some of the crash victims, and the hospital was over capacity due to the virus. The administrators advised the public to stay away unless it was a life-threatening emergency.

A chill raced through her. The situation was getting worse, and if that SUV belonged to who she thought it did, being locked up in her apartment for the next few weeks didn’t feel like a good plan anymore. They were heading to the trailer.

She turned the deadbolt on the front door and hurried out of her apartment. She braced herself against the door frame of another apartment a few metres down the hall and leaned closer. There was talking, low, incoherent, but no sounds of coughing. She knocked impatiently as her anxiety grew.

She pounced the moment the door opened. What the hell took you so long?

A twenty-ish, dark-skinned woman stood on the other side with an indignant look. Excuse me? Her Jamaican accent was barely noticeable.

Jolene pushed her way into the room and headed to the living room. A teen sat cross-legged with her eyes closed on an old couch, earbuds firmly plugged in her ears.

Kendra, let’s go.

Fourteen-year-old Kendra frowned and pulled the earbuds out. What? When did you get here?

Just now. Come on.

The teen leaned forward. Where are we going?

Up to Nana’s trailer.

Kendra scrunched up her nose. Hardly. I’m going to the Bayview with Penny and—

Jolene grabbed the teen by the arm, dragging her to her feet. I said we’re leaving.

Kendra yanked free of her mother’s grip. No!

Jolene reached for her daughter again. Stop arguing with me!

The young woman forced herself between Jolene and Kendra. Calm down, Jo. We’ve been watching the news and—

This has nothing to do with the damn virus, Tamika.

Then tell me why you’re so upset, but you’re not going to drag Kendra outta here and to who knows where when you’re all freaked out like this.

Jolene glared at the younger woman. She was one of the few people she could trust now. Tamika helped get the job at the bar and let Kendra spend the night when she worked late. Jolene didn’t know where she’d be without her help, but right now, it was all she could do to keep calm with her. She clenched her jaw and moved away, crossing her arms before she rested against the wall.

Tamika Prince ran her hands along the sides of her head in frustration. Her fingers disappeared within the loose ringlets that flopped messily from the top of a hair bun. Look, sit down. I’ll make you a coffee, and we can talk.

Jolene absentmindedly picked at the scars on her arm. I think Carmine found me.

Tamika stopped by the fridge and whipped around. Are you serious? When?

Kendra’s face was etched in fear. Mom?

Jolene flopped down on the couch. Him and a few of his buddies got invited to a stag at the bar Wednesday night. I hid as soon as I saw him, but I think he saw me.

Tamika crouched down beside her. "Why didn’t you say anything?

Because I was hoping I was wrong.

What are you going to do?

Jolene shrugged. Probably move. I don’t think he knows where I live, but I can’t take that chance, and I can’t just sit around and wait for him to show up at my door.

Kendra flopped on the couch next to her mother, visibly disappointed. But all my friends are here.

I’m sorry, but I told you we’d have to move around a lot. She turned to Tamika. I’m gonna give my notice and spend the next couple weeks at my mom’s trailer at Wasaga Beach. Do you wanna come with us?

Tamika winced. I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be better to stay here with the pandemic and all?

Fuck the pandemic. Do you know what he’ll do if he finds me?

There was a quick knock at the door, and a young man burst into the room. He was tall and shared Tamika’s eyes and pouty lips. He had a mess of cornrow braids pulled back into a bun and hurried to Tamika’s side. His lean features were at odds with his towering height. Sis, come on. Get packed. He stopped short when they saw Tamika wasn’t alone. Oh, hey.

Tamika stood. Pack? Dantrell, what are you talking about?

We gotta get out of the city.

Why?

The virus is getting worse. I’ve seen things online. There’s something bad going on, real bad, and the news ain’t covering it. We need to get as far from people as we can.

Tamika rolled her eyes. Don’t pull this shit. Those videos are made up to make people think the worst.

"Not the streaming ones. Sis, I’m telling ya,

Reviews for The Quiet Dead

[Uniquely Kmee · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I enjoyed the writing style very much however, the story fell flat to me. While I do like a good character progression I would have like too see a better build up. I had really high hopes I do plan on reading more from the author though