The City of Mirrors (The Passage 3)

“Now is not the time for humankind to turn upon itself,” said U.N. Secretary-General Ahn Yoon-dae in a printed statement. “Our common humanity must be a guiding light in these dark days.”

Power outages throughout Europe continue to hamper relief efforts and add to the chaos. As of Tuesday night, darkness extended from as far north as Denmark to southern France and northern Italy. Similar failures have been reported throughout the Indian subcontinent, Japan, and Western Australia.

Landline and cellular communications networks have also been adversely affected, cutting many cities and towns off from the outside world. In Moscow, water shortages and high winds are being blamed for the unchecked fires that have left much of the city in ashes and killed thousands.

“The whole thing is gone,” said one eyewitness. “Moscow is no more.”

Also on the rise are reports of mass suicides and so-called “death cults.” Early Monday in Zurich, police officers, responding to reports of a suspicious smell, discovered a warehouse containing more than 2,500 bodies, including children and infants. According to police, the group had used secobarbital, a powerful barbiturate, mixing it with a powdered fruit drink to make a lethal cocktail. Though the majority of victims appeared to have taken the drug voluntarily, some of the bodies had been bound at the ankles and wrists.

Speaking to the press, Zurich Chief of Police Franz Schatz described the scene as one of “unspeakable horror.”

“I cannot imagine the despair that led these people to end not only their own lives but those of their children,” Schatz said.

Around the globe, huge crowds have flocked to houses of worship and important religious sites to seek spiritual comfort during the unprecedented crisis. In Mecca, Islam’s holiest city, millions continue to gather despite food and water shortages that have added to the suffering. In Rome, Pope Cornelius II, whom many eyewitnesses claimed appeared ill, addressed the faithful Tuesday evening from the balcony of the papal residence, exhorting them to “place your lives in the hands of an almighty and merciful God.”

As bells tolled throughout the city, the pontiff said, “If it is God’s will that these should be the last days of humanity, let us meet our heavenly father with peace and acceptance in our hearts. Do not abandon yourselves to despair, for ours is a living and loving God, in whose hands of mercy his children have rested since time’s beginning and will rest until its end.”

As the death toll rises, health officials worry that the unburied remains of the deceased may be accelerating the spread of infection. Struggling to keep pace, officials in many European locales have employed open pit graves. Others have resorted to mass burials at sea, moving the bodies of the deceased by freight cars to coastal sites.

Yet despite the risks, many of the bereaved are taking matters into their own hands, using any available patch of ground to bury their loved ones. In a scene typical of cities around the world, Paris’s famed Bois de Boulogne, one of Europe’s most storied urban parks, is now the site of thousands of graves.

“It is the last thing I could do for my family,” said Gerard Bonnaire, 36, standing by the freshly dug grave of his wife and young son, who had succumbed within six hours of each other. After fruitless attempts to notify officials, Bonnaire, who identified himself as an executive with the World Bank, asked neighbors to help him move the bodies and dig a grave, which he had marked with family photographs and his son’s stuffed parrot, a beloved toy.

“All I can hope is to join them as soon as possible,” Bonnaire said. “What is left for any of us now? What can we do but die?”

It took Michael a moment to realize he had come to the end. His body felt numb, almost weightless. He raised his eyes from the paper and looked around the compartment, as if searching for someone to tell him that he was mistaken, that it was all a lie. But there was no one, only bodies, and the great, creaking weight of the Bergensfjord.

Good God, he thought.

We’re alone.

* * *

5

The woman in bed 16 was making a ruckus. With each contraction, she released a volley of curses at her husband that would make an oiler blush. Worse, her cervix was barely dilated, just two centimeters.

“Try to keep calm, Marie,” Sara told her. “Yelling and screaming won’t make it any better.”

“Goddamnit,” Marie screeched at her husband, “you did this to me, you son of a bitch!”

“Is there anything you can do?” her husband asked.

Sara wasn’t sure if he meant to ease his wife’s pain or to shut her up. From the cowed look on his face, she guessed that the verbal abuse was nothing new. He worked in the fields; Sara could tell by the crescents of dirt under his fingernails.