The Undead Age Series (Book 2): Damage In An Undead Age

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The Undead Age Series (Book 2): Damage In An Undead Age Page 37

by Geever, A. M.


  Right now, they had fifteen actual vaccine doses. Mario and Alicia were concentrating their efforts on producing and stockpiling serum now, since it was the key to producing more vaccine. But they were limited in that, too, due to on-hand supplies.

  “Still no one else who has developed the repellant effect besides Miranda and me?”

  Alicia shook her head in answer to Skye’s question, tucking a lock that had come loose from her braided hair behind her ear. “No. At first we thought it might be because of hormonal differences between men and women, but the women we’ve vaccinated didn’t develop it either.”

  “Any chance it could be a fluke?”

  “Anything’s possible at this stage,” Mario said. “Unlikely, though, since two people have it. It might be the getting so sick that causes it, might be the phase of the moon,” he said, sounding discouraged. “We’ll figure it out eventually.”

  “Okay,” Skye said. “I’ll set up a meeting with the P-Land Council to tell them.” She flashed a smile. “I think the next group we vaccinate should be from P-Land, as a show of good faith.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Doug said as heads around the table nodded.

  “I know I’m beating a dead horse here,” Mario said. “But the vaccine must be free and available to everyone. No questions asked. I don’t care if they’re the scum of the earth or Albert Schweitzer—everyone gets vaccinated.”

  Skye nodded. “That’s always been the agreement. It’s what Anna wanted. We’ll even vaccinate Brock.”

  Doug did a double take to make sure Skye was joking.

  She wasn’t.

  “I think we can make an exception there,” he said, anger and protectiveness flaring.

  A couple people snickered, but not Mario. Doug saw his fierce anger reflected in his friend’s eyes.

  “Believe me, it’s tempting,” Skye acknowledged. “But ultimately counterproductive. Rich and I are heading back to LO now. Anyone else coming?”

  Rising, Alicia said, “I’ll join you.”

  Skye nodded. “I’ll see you all later, then. Leadership calls, though I can’t wait until I can ignore it.” She paused, then said, “The commander was right when she said it’s been an absolute honor to be part of this. She was so proud to be a part of this.”

  As the meeting broke up, Skye said to Doug. “You coming?”

  “No, I’m going to hang out with Mario.”

  She leaned in and gave him a peck. “See you later then. Love you.”

  Doug smiled. “Love you, too.”

  After she left, Mario slumped back against his chair, his head back and his eyes closed.

  “How are you doing?”

  Mario sighed as he raised his head. He opened his eyes and cast a sidelong glance at Doug.

  “Oh…you know,” he said. “Getting through. One week down, the rest of my life to go.”

  “You look like shit.”

  Mario chuckled, the sound as bitter as medicine. “Thanks a lot.”

  After a moment, Doug said, “I don’t know what to say, man. She’s not in her right mind.”

  “I wasn’t exactly a model of good behavior myself. I was a real asshole, and she’s not interested in apologies. I wish she’d never gotten pregnant. None of this would have happened.” He sounded completely defeated. Looked completely defeated. He turned to Doug, his eyes bleak. “It’s really over this time.”

  “You don’t know that,” Doug said.

  “Yeah,” Mario said. “I do.”

  Doug waited a beat, then said, “I don’t care what she says about not loving you anymore, Mario. I know Miranda, and she loves you. If she’ll just come clean—”

  Mario cut him off. “Just leave it, Doug. Please. I can just about get through the day. I don’t have it in me to hope.”

  “Okay. Sorry,” Doug said. They sat in silence for a moment. “Thought about what you want to do next? After everything is up and running?”

  Mario nodded. The anger that Doug had seen before, bright and lethal, flashed in Mario’s eyes.

  “I need to go home and deal with my brother. He tried to kill the woman I love. If she hadn’t lost the—”

  Mario’s voice grew tight. He closed his eyes, blinking away the tears that Doug saw fill them.

  “Even if she doesn’t…love me, anymore, I can’t let that stand. And he might try to hurt Emily and the kids.” Mario’s voice trembled when he continued. “He may have already.”

  “Mario,” Doug said, absolute confidence in what he said filling his voice, because he really did believe it. “Walter will keep them safe. You know he will. Victor told us the Council hadn’t managed to mount a successful attack on SCU. They think everything here went to plan, since that’s what Victor told them when he radioed in. Smith promised him the vaccine if he cooperated, and the deal still stands. He’s locked up in LO’s brig, so it’s not like he can change his mind and alert them even if he wanted to. And he won’t. He’s looking out for number one.” Doug sighed. “He’s consistent that way. I’ll give him that.”

  “You’ll have to pardon me if I don’t trust the word of a mercenary. If everything he says is true, it’s all the more reason to go home. They’ll never see us coming.” He shrugged. “Besides, I know my brother. Dominic will try something. And if he fails, he’ll try again.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” Doug said. He could see Dominic trying to kill Mario, which was horrifying enough, but he could not see him killing his niece and nephews.

  “I do,” Mario said. “I know my brother better than you do. You, me, my family, Miranda… None of us are safe as long as he’s alive.”

  Doug sat back in his seat, his heart aching for his friend. He didn’t know Dominic as well as Mario did. How could he? But killing your own brother? Even if it was to protect the other people you loved, Doug was not sure how a person came back from that.

  “We can’t do anything for a month or two anyway,” Mario said. He sounded as if he was trying to force some liveliness into his voice, which only made his misery more apparent. It made Doug feel even sadder for him.

  “Okay,” Doug said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Mario nodded. Doug could see that Mario had no idea what he needed.

  Doug said, “I’ll see if I can rustle up some cider.”

  Mario’s smile was faint, with no enthusiasm to back it up.

  “Yeah,” he said, then stood. “I should get back to the lab.”

  “Okay,” Doug said. “I’ll see you later.”

  He watched Mario walk out of the room. He had never seen his friend look so defeated, not even after they had put their plan for his ‘defection’ in motion. He had been distraught at the idea of letting Miranda think he had betrayed her, but this was far worse, by an order of magnitude.

  He really thinks this is it, Doug thought with a start.

  Doug had just left the meeting room and turned down the hall that led to the lobby when he heard a commotion outside. He picked up the pace.

  “Doug! Come help us!”

  Miranda’s voice? Doug reached the lobby. It was Miranda. What was she doing here? She and Phineas half dragged Rich through one of the front doors as several members of security scurried out the other. Rich’s left leg dragged, leaving a trail of blood on the terrazzo floor.

  “Get him settled,” Skye said.

  Skye held the door to the BSL-3 hallway for Alicia. Alicia’s face was smudged with dirt and her braided hair was coming loose. The two women disappeared into the hallway.

  They settled Rich into the nearest chair. He was pale and sweaty and looked rattled. Miranda had already dropped to her knees by his feet. She pressed a cloth against the wound on his lower leg.

  “I lost control of the vehicle, and we slid into a ditch,” Rich said. He sounded dazed. “I don’t even know how it happened.”

  “I was helping restock the fallbacks today with Phineas.” Miranda said. “We were at the one nearest to here and saw them crash.


  “Next thing I knew,” Rich said, “Miranda and Phineas were pulling me out of the Jeep. The grass was high on the side away from the road. I didn’t even see it.”

  “See what?” Doug asked.

  “The zombie,” Phineas said. “It didn’t have any legs. It bit him.”

  Doug looked at Rich in horror. “Why weren’t you wearing chain mail?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Doug kicked himself. Like it mattered now. “Sorry, I just… You aren’t slated to be vaccinated until next week.”

  Rich, who never cursed, smiled weakly. “Isn’t that a bitch?”

  The doors behind them that led to the BSL-3 hallway banged open. Skye, Mario, and Alicia hurried into the lobby. Mario carried a tray, Skye a first aid kit.

  “Miranda! Phineas,” Alicia said as she headed for the stairs. “I need help setting up the isolation room.”

  Miranda and Phineas followed Alicia. Skye removed Rich’s boot, retrieved a pair of scissors from the first aid kit, and started cutting away his trouser leg by the bite. Mario set the tray down on the table next to Rich’s chair.

  “Doug,” Mario said, “Roll up his sleeve.”

  Doug helped Rich out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeve. Rich shivered, even though the lobby was warm.

  “We don’t know if this will work,” Mario said.

  “You don’t know if what will work?” Doug asked.

  “The vaccine.”

  The contents of the tray—bandages, alcohol, a syringe and needle, and two vials—finally registered. Mario slipped the needle into one of the upturned vials, pulling the liquid serum into the syringe before depressing the plunger again. A jet of tiny bubbles rushed from the needle.

  “It’s not made for post-bite exposure,” Mario said. He looked at Doug, his eyes bleak. “But we have nothing to lose.”

  42

  Miranda leaned against the wall just inside the door of the isolation room. The dimmed lights matched everyone’s mood. Despite being administered a double dose of the vaccine at the start and an additional two doses three and six hours later, Rich continued to go downhill fast. Both Mario and Alicia were pessimistic about the chances that a vaccine not developed for post-bite use would work, but as Mario had said, they had nothing to lose.

  Fucking zombies, Miranda thought. Anger flowed through her veins like venom, setting off a cascading reaction of pain that started in her temples. Anger seemed to be the only emotion she felt anymore. Except in the wee hours, when she was so tired she couldn’t see straight but still couldn’t sleep. That was when the pain would bubble up and try to suck her under. When the tiny voice whispered that all of it was her fault and she was to blame.

  She felt like she would die when she couldn’t get the voice to shut up, her chest tightening and fear crushing her skull. Someone had brought over two cases of Rocco’s cider to celebrate the successful vaccine trials, but it was never touched after Rich was bitten. Last night when the voice started whispering, Miranda drank until she passed out. She had woken up this morning sprawled on the floor, her head pounding, her mouth feeling like something had crawled into it and died.

  But the voice was gone.

  If she didn’t have the wall to lean against, Miranda wasn’t sure she would be able to stay upright. Her head felt like it was splitting open. Anything approaching daylight was like an ice pick behind her eyes. The dimmed lights were half the reason she had come to the isolation room. The other was that she liked Rich. He had a steady, calming presence, a soft but sly sense of humor that she enjoyed. He had walked her to the fallback when she was pregnant, because she was pregnant. It had been ridiculous and unnecessary and annoying at the time, but she craved the comfort of that unobtrusive care.

  And no one talked in here. Not even Mathilde, Rich’s wife, who sat in the chair beside his bed, tense and pale. No one tried to engage Miranda here. No questions about why she was being so unfair, so unfeeling, to Mario. No one asked what was up with her and Doug. No one would ask if she had talked to River about trying again for another baby, because apparently Tadpole had been nothing special and could be replaced with another one, like a worn-out pair of boots.

  She slid to sitting, her wrists on her knees, her head against the wall. She was surprised that Rich had lasted the night. She didn’t think it would be much longer.

  Miranda cracked an eye open. Doug leaned over her. She must have fallen asleep.

  “Has he turned?”

  “No,” Doug said, a grin splitting his face. “His fever broke. His vitals have stabilized. He seems to have pulled through.”

  Her head jerked up straighter.

  “Really?”

  She scrambled to her feet. The lights were still dimmed, but not as much as before. Mathilde hovered behind Alicia, who was drawing Rich’s blood. Tears ran down Mathilde’s cheeks that she didn’t bother to brush away. Rich was propped up on a pillow. River stood on the other side of his cot, a stethoscope on his chest. A thermometer jutted out from his mouth. He looked coherent and extremely unwell but human, and alive.

  Miranda sagged with relief, covering her hand with her mouth. “Wow.”

  “This is a big deal,” Doug said. “It works after the fact. Within the first hour, anyway.”

  “Mario must be thrilled.”

  “He is,” Doug said, but there was an edge to his voice. An edge that said, like you care.

  “How’s the shoulder?” she asked, noticing the lack of the sling for his shoulder that had been dislocated.

  “Getting there,” he said.

  They looked at one another. Miranda didn’t know what she was supposed to say to him after the argument they’d had.

  “I’m going to get some sleep,” she said.

  She turned and slipped through the door. To her annoyance, Doug followed.

  “Miranda,” he called after her. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  She stopped. She needed this like a hole in her head. She wasn’t sure how long she had slept, but her head still pounded. Her mouth felt chalky. She didn’t want to deal with Doug and his judgy comments.

  She turned to face him. “What about?”

  “Home.”

  Home, not her. She could do that. It might become home, then her, but maybe it was better to get it over with.

  “Okay.”

  Doug poked his head through the door of the closest room, then motioned her inside. Miranda joined him in an old office.

  Doug shut the door behind them, then said, “Mario wants to go home soon, while they think their plan has been successful.”

  Miranda turned the idea over in her mind a moment. “He wants to kill his brother.”

  Doug’s expression became pinched. “He wants to deal with the Council once and for all, just like you and I do.”

  She let the deflection pass. The Old School was strong in Mario, too. At its core, it meant family. Even if you hated them, they were yours. Mercy was not part of the lexicon when it came to those who threatened your family.

  “Dominic’s a fuckup, even if he’s always landed on his feet, but he went too far this time. If it was just Mario he tried to kill…” Miranda shrugged. “He’s not family anymore.”

  Doug didn’t like what she’d said, she could tell by the downward arc of his mouth.

  “We’ll never get a better tactical advantage since they think we’re dead,” he said, unwilling to engage more about Mario killing his brother. “It’ll only take two weeks to sail to San Jose this time of year.”

  All the air felt sucked from the room. The pounding behind Miranda’s eyes exploded as her heart began to race. Two weeks to get to San Jose. Even if other people came along, the travel party would be small. And contained. Two weeks of Doug’s disappointment and frustration. Two weeks with no escape from Mario. She could feel the pull of his pain, his needing, sucking her dry already.

  She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Two weeks is nothing… Get a grip. You can do anything for two weeks, even
travel with Mario.

  Doug continued. “I know Victor said that SCU is okay, but I’ll feel a lot better after talking to Walter and seeing for myself.”

  “Father Walter,” Miranda whispered.

  Longing to see the old priest welled up with an ache that almost made her gasp. His name rolled over her like a cool breeze. Father Walter would know what to say, would use words that her heart could understand. He could tell her what to do with this anger and pain. He could help her figure this out, and then she might not be so—

  “I’m not coming,” she heard herself say. “I’m staying here.”

  Doug’s eye went wide. “What?”

  “I’m not going home. I’m staying here.”

  “Miri,” Doug said, stunned. “If this is about the other day…”

  Miranda shook her head, relief flooding her body at this turn of events that took even her by surprise.

  “Is Skye going with you?”

  “I think so,” Doug said, still looking confused by her answer, but his features softened at the mention of Skye. “She said she was. Says she doesn’t want Smith’s job.”

  “I don’t blame her.”

  A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Doug said, “Are you sure you won’t come with us?”

  “I don’t— I can’t do it right now.”

  For the first time in weeks, it wasn’t anger that undergirded her words, but she couldn’t identify what the feeling was as she studied the floor tiles. She looked back up at Doug. He had become another person she didn’t want to be around.

  “Someone needs to get the vaccine out to people. I’m good at that sort of thing.”

  Doug nodded slowly, still frowning. “It’ll take a while to get ready. We can’t leave everyone here in the lurch with things being so unsettled, so if you change your mind.”

  She wasn’t going to change her mind, but she said, “It’s not like you’re on a hard deadline. There’s time.”

  Doug blinked, then shook his head. “Says the most impatient woman I know. Miracles never cease.”

 

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