The Plague of Montreal
My skin was falling off. First in flakes and then in long stretchy strands. I wrapped my arms up tight in gauze to stop it but I could feel it sliding underneath. Well, I was fucked. Lol. You have to have a sense of humour about these things.
I still remember that one woman on the street corner. It was after the medical teams withdrew but before the incinerations. Her joints had softened and she couldn't walk. Her feet were bent at funny angles and her left hand had already fallen off. She held it up like a block of wood. "Give me a hand and I'll give you mine," she cackled as I biked past. That woman was my hero.
I lasted a long time considering my neighbours. Poor Yan, the first I knew to fall to the plague. It was right in front of myself and his family. His face caved in -collapsed like a souffle in the oven with the kids stomping. We all screamed like it was the first death on Earth. That was before we even knew that it wasn't just St. Henri -all of Montreal was dying. Everyone was screaming. I sort of wish I could scream again. I spent all my tears in that first year. Now I'm more likely to chuckle. Like that poor fucker who just melted in front of me.
He was like me. He survived the early days, the riots, the civil war. Then he lived through the gassing and incinerations. The bombing. He was a nice guy, skinny and quiet. When I first met him he was very positive about God and his plagues and purposes and how we would make it through this trial. That was a long time ago. I ran into him recently in the tunnels. Right before his skin slipped off into our campfire he had this look on his face like, "the fuck is this, God?" Priceless.
He wouldn't see the latest era. There was a rumour that a new medical team had arrived. They were looking for survivors because their immune systems might be able to help humanity. I knew better than that. That was the ol' rattle the keys to the cage and when the beast comes to the door shoot it in the face. I saw those tricks in the early days too. They have no trouble killing us and I've got no trouble killing them. It's really easy. All you have to do is rip their hazard suit.
I should have left the city in those first months but I loved Annie. Come to think of it. Her death was the last one I screamed about or maybe the first one I laughed at. Do I regret staying in this hellhole for my love? Definitely. Lol. Jokes, Annie. I still have her skull in my backpack. Everything dripped off it like hot wax and formed a pile on the road. Sorry, Babe. I left your skin because it was gross. Lol.
The world hates Montreal. They're gonna nuke this city. I'm sure of it. They'd rip it out of the Earth and send it to the sun if they could. In those first few weeks we sent so many images of the melting sickness that no one can sleep any more. I was the photographer who got that one picture of that little girl trying to hold her skin on. You know the one? She's hugging herself as her face slides off over her arms? Well, you owe your nightmares to me. Don't worry. I got mine. Saw shit ten times worse than that. Lol.
I know I'm going to die. I can feel myself getting all slippery. But I'm holding it together. I'm not afraid. I'll stay solid by sheer will alone until I've done what I need to do. I'm gonna bury you somewhere safe, Annie. Don't you sweat it, Babe.












