After the Cure

by Deirdre Gould

Mr. Grant was pacing the hall in front of Ann Connelly's cell. When he saw Nella, a grin split his round face so quickly that Nella felt queasy. He quickly smothered the grin, but Nella was too distracted by the dull thuds coming from Ann's cell to notice.

  She opened the cell door and saw Ann much changed from what she had been the day before. Wells was trying to hold her back from flinging herself into the walls and Johnson was speaking calmly to her and holding a gloved hand between the prisoner's head and the wall as Ann whipped back and forth in frantic wriggles. Both guards looked exhausted.

  "What has happened?" asked Nella.

  "Oh, thank goodness, Doc," sighed Wells, "We didn't think anyone was coming to help."

  Nella gently but firmly held Ann's chin so she could make an examination of her. "How long has she been like this?"

  "Well, she started doing this sometime overnight. The night shift said she seemed to be building up to it all evening." Johnson ran a soothing hand over Ann's hair, trying to smooth it back into place. Ann had slammed herself against the padded wall hard enough to bruise her left cheek and her lip had been bitten until it bled. Ann's eyes skittered and leapt over everything.

  "Has her physician been called? Did he prescribe a sedative at all?"

  Mr. Grant trotted into the doorway as Nella asked. She looked up from Ann's face in time to see Wells and Johnson exchange a disgusted glance at the lawyer's entrance.

  "The doctor says he can't do anything for her since we've all been told she is not to have sedatives during the trial," Johnson mumbled.

  "Did her physician order that?" Nella knew it was the lawyer that had told them not to sedate Ann, but she wanted to make a point.

  "No, Dr. Rider, it was me. I need Ann to be aware and able to assist in her own defense," a slow oily smile oozed over Mr. Grant's face, "Unless, of course, you determine that she is incapable of doing that."

  "With all due respect, Mr. Grant, you are not a physician," Ann whipped her head forward and Nella struggled to keep her from smacking her forehead on the wall, "Regardless of what I find, Miss Connelly cannot continue to live with these kinds of episodes without relief. Being in a state of such extreme anxiety isn't helping her or your defense case."

  "How am I supposed to put together a defense with a catatonic doll?"

  Nella tried to control her anger, but her voice was louder than she meant it to be. "Mr. Grant, this conversation is over. As her doctor, for Miss Connelly's safety and the safety of her guards I am recommending immediate sedation with lorazepam. If you have an issue with this, take it up with Judge Hawkins. But this is happening for now. As for your case, Mr. Grant, I recommend you take the day off. Your assistance is not needed today." Nella turned back toward Johnson. "Do you have a supply on hand or should I request some doses from the military liaison?" Nella could hear Mr. Grant spluttering with anger and without looking could picture his round face deep red and puffed with rage, but she didn't turn around to look. Wells, though, was trying not to smile and failing. Johnson shot him a warning look. "Yeah, we've got it," she said, "Wells, go up to the Warden's office and tell him we need a dose of lorazepam."

  "You sure?" asked Wells as he struggled to hold a thrashing Ann.

  "The Doc and I can handle it. Just hurry."

  Johnson held Ann in a bear hug from behind while Nell kept Ann's head from banging against the wall. Mr. Grant, still blustering wordlessly, skittered out of the room like a round beetle, followed by Wells.

  "Do you have any idea what might have triggered this?" asked Nella over Ann's shoulder. Johnson strained to see her. "Well, begging your pardon, but no one's been able to get her to really talk about what happened until you. I figured this must have been from digging up all those memories. But there's no help for it. Someone has to find out how all this happened."

  "I apologize," said Nella, "next time I'll be more prepared. I assumed her lawyer or at least the original investigators had already gone over it with her."

  Ann snapped her teeth and Nella instinctively flinched.

  "No," said Johnson when Nella had recovered, "When the investigators found her, she was even worse than this. They couldn't get her to calm down enough to talk. And her lawyer-" Johnson scowled, "He's just waiting for you to declare her incompetent. In fact, I'm sure his ban on sedation was in hopes that something exactly like this would happen while you were here. He just wants to get the whole thing over with."

  "He's never talked to her about what happened?" asked Nella, incredulous.

  "The TEETH! THE TEETH MUST GNASH THROUGH THE BEAST ROOM DOORS!" screamed Ann and Nella moved her hand, but too late. Ann clamped her teeth down and twisted. Nella sucked in a sizzling breath, but managed not to yell. Ann immediately opened her mouth again and Nella quickly stepped back before Ann's jaw could snap shut again.

  "Oh God!" said Johnson, watching the skin between Nella's thumb and finger split and swell with blood, "I forgot you didn't have gloves on. Wells! Wells get back here!" she shouted, struggling to hold Ann still. Nella saw tears streaming down Ann's cheek and she pushed Ann's tangled hair out of the prisoner's face with her good hand.

  "It's okay Ann. It's okay, I know you didn't mean to."

  The pain in Nella's hand coupled with the natural, humid heat of the blood on her skin made Nella nauseous. She tried not to imagine what it would have been like to be slowly torn apart by the teeth of several Infected. Her whole body ached in empathy even as she pushed the thought out and carefully held Ann's forehead away from the wall she was trying to smash it on. At last, Wells cam running back, a capped syringe and small glass bottle in his hand.

  "Jesus, Doc, are you okay?" he asked.

  Nella managed a small smile. "Sure. I just wasn't paying enough attention." Wells handed Nella the bottle and syringe and took Johnson's place holding onto Ann.

  Nella looked at the vial for a moment. "Sorry," she said, "I don't think I can do this with one hand."

  "Here," replied Johnson, "I'll do it, I was a combat medic." Johnson filled the syringe.

  "Okay Ann, officer Johnson is just going to give you something to help you sleep for a while. Is that alright?" Johnson waited for Ann to reply.

  "Stop the teeth," sighed Ann, "Stop the teeth and the screaming beasts."

  Johnson nodded. "Yes, Ann, we'll stop the teeth and let you rest."

  Ann didn't even flinch as Johnson administered the sedative. She rocked back and forth, no longer thrashing but still frantic.

  "Ann," said Nella, "Do you remember your mother and father?"

  Ann stopped rocking. She looked up and to everyone's surprise, Ann's eyes caught on Nella's face.

  "Did they tell you bedtime stories Ann? Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

  Ann smiled. Wells and Johnson shared a shocked glance.

  "Once upon a time there was a queen who wanted a little girl very badly . . ." Ann began. The queen hadn't even pricked her finger with her needle before Ann was slurring and drooping. Johnson helped her lie down.

  "Come on, Doc," whispered Wells, "You need to get to the infirmary."

  Nella hesitated for a moment. Johnson looked up from smoothing Ann's hair. "Don't worry, I'll be here and she's going to sleep like a log for a while. Thanks for standing up to Grant, Dr. Rider. He's been worse than useless this whole time."

  Johnson grinned and Nella thought it made her look nicer. "No problem," Nella said grimly. A burst of pain splashed over her and she followed Wells out of the cell and down the hall, trying to hold her hand against the cloth of her skirt so she wouldn't drip on the floor.

  "We'll be at the infirmary in a sec and the nurse will clean you up." He looked at her hand doubtfully. "I think you might need stitches," he said.

  Nella gently covered the bite with her good hand. The wound sizzled and popped, a burning flare in her mind. She said a silent prayer that the infirmary was still stocked with increasingly rare and desirable modern pain kille
rs.

  The officers in the infirmary were kind, but Nella suspected she had more actual medical training than any of the nurses. Still, she thought her hand would heal without too big of a scar. The drug cabinet had been stocked, but its pain killers were limited. It seemed even the military could no longer procure medical grade narcotics. Nella was thankful she didn't need major surgery. She looked at the two slim, white tablets in her palm. Nella was no addict, but as the pills slid down her throat, she thought that the production of a simple aspirin tablet might be what would launch what remained of humanity back into a civilization.

  The nurse patted her on the shoulder and gave her a compassionate smile. "Be careful," the nurse said, "I know it's just aspirin, but if you've had the same experience as the rest of us, it's been a while since you've taken one. It will probably hit you faster than you expect and make you dizzy."

  Nella laughed. "You know, I used to pop these like breath mints when I was in college for headaches."

  "Didn't we all?" asked the nurse, "and now you'd be hard pressed to find anyone under 20 who remembers even having seen one." They were both quiet for a moment. Then the nurse roused herself, "Ah, but I'm sure we'll be making them again soon, don't you think?"

  Nella nodded. "If they were able to bring us hot showers within a year, I'm sure someone is working on aspirin tabs after eight."

  Nella felt the buzzing numbness of the aspirin spread down her arm. She looked down at herself. The side of her skirt was stiff and purple where she had pressed her hand. She looked around for her suit jacket and winced as she saw the spatter on it. At least her shirt was unstained. "Do you have a sink I can use?" she asked the nurse, "I have another appointment and I can't go like this."

  "You sure honey?" asked the nurse kindly, "I think they'd understand if you rescheduled."

  "No, I need to keep this one and I'm already late. Besides-" Nella laughed, "I don't think I can drive while the aspirin is working. I must be becoming a lightweight."

  Nella was still desperately scrubbing the hem of her skirt with a wet towel when Mr. Courtlen walked into the infirmary.

  "I heard Dr. Rider has been injured-" he began speaking to the nurse.

  Nella looked up and dropped the towel into the red laundry bin. "I'm okay," she said, more brightly than she felt, "I'm sorry I'm late, I was just trying to clean up." She waved her good hand across the remaining bits of blood.

  "Of course, no need to apologize."

  "I'll be right there. I've just got to get some books out of the car that Dr. Pazzo wanted."

  "Let me do that for you."

  Nella hesitated.

  "You're injured," said Mr. Courtlen, "I won't search for any case notes or anything, I swear." Mr. Courtlen held up his right hand and grinned.

  Nella fumbled for the keys. "Thank you," she said, "There is a box in the trunk.

  "No problem." Frank closed his hand around the keys, brushing her palm with the tips of his fingers. He was so warm. Nella kept expecting his skin to be cold and damp like an Infected. She shook her head. She had to stop thinking of the Cured as they had been when they first woke up. It had been six years since the Infected had started being Cured. Did she really know no one else who had been Cured? She was startled to realize that she did not. She didn't even know what happened to them after they left the medical camps she had worked in. Oh, she knew that a great deal of them- something like thirty percent committed suicide and almost half of those remaining had lasting psychological problems like depression and addictions. It was constantly in Sevita's broadcasts. But Nella didn't know how or where they lived, if they kept to themselves or mingled with the Immune population. But then, Nella reasoned, she didn't even know her next door neighbors.

  She was late to meet Dr. Pazzo. Nella put herself back together as best she could and headed back down the hallway to the common room.

  We're All Villains