My laser had missed the zombie’s head and it was trying to get up on one arm and leg. Celeste fired a round into its head, and Alex used his bayonet to finish off another crawling in a circle on the other side of the van.
“You’re starting to get the hang of this, aren’t you?” I asked Alex.
“It’s scary, but it’s kind of fun,” he said.
“When in Rome, right? Let’s see how Mike is doing,” I said and swung open the back door of the van.
Mike was lying right where we had left him.
“Okay, let’s get him in there,” Celeste said.
She climbed into the center of the cab, and Alex sat next to her in the passenger seat. I drove around the building searching for the patio.
“I don’t think he’s breathing,” Celeste said.
“Get your gun ready and keep a close eye on him,” I said. “We don’t want him sneaking up on us like Carson.”
“I don’t see what the point of this is,” Alex said. “You heard him yourself, he can’t cure him.”
“He can’t if he doesn’t try. Medicine is amazing these days, right? What if healing the wounds before he turns stops the virus?”
“I suppose, but I’d be surprised if he hasn’t tried that before.”
“Well, let’s find out,” I said as I pulled up onto the patio. I put the van in park and honked the horn.
“Why do you think he has us out here anyway?” Celeste asked.
“Beats me.”
As I spoke, the ground shifted. The patio moved slowly downward. When it stopped moving, we were inside the lab. The man in the lab coat waved us forward, and I drove the van off the patio onto the floor. Behind us, the piston returned the patio to the surface.
“Where is he?” the man asked.
“He’s in the back,” I said.
He rolled a gurney over to the back of the van, and we pulled Mike out and placed him on top of it.
“What’s his name?” the man asked.
“Mike,” I said.
“I’m Dr. Trowbridge.”
“Thanks for helping us out. I’m Royce, this is Celeste, and that handsome specimen there is Alex.”
“Very nice to meet you all. Now, your friend here, errr, Mike, is in pretty bad shape. He looks like he’s going to turn soon, and I’m going to have to restrain him, okay?”
“Of course.”
Dr. Trowbridge stepped on a lever beneath the gurney, and restraints lashed out across Mike’s body. He wheeled Mike over to a counter where medical utensils were arranged neatly in a row. He cut off Mike’s clothes to expose his wounds. Next, he opened a cabinet and pulled out the same machine Dr. Feng had used to heal the laceration on my arm. He went to work on Mike’s wounds, and within fifteen minutes, the skin on his legs, minus the bloodstains, looked as if the injuries had happened long ago. Once he finished with Mike’s legs, Dr. Trowbridge took the tourniquet off his triceps and then cleaned and treated the wound.
“There we go,” Dr. Trowbridge said. “Anyone else have wounds that need tending to?”
We all shook our heads, and I placed my arm nervously behind my back.
“Well, then, I’m going to inject him with a dose of an antivirus that I’ve been working on. So far three of the individuals we’ve injected haven’t turned,” Dr. Trowbridge said, before retrieving a large needle that he stabbed directly into Mike’s heart.
“Where are the three guys who didn’t turn?” I asked.
“Two were treated at other facilities.”
“And the third?”
“You’re looking at him. I was bitten on the arm while restraining a patient here before we were overrun. I treated the wound, took the antiviral, and the disease never progressed. The virus is in my blood, but it’s dormant . . . completely inactive.”
“How many people have you treated with the antiviral?” Alex asked.
“Hundreds. It’s no magic bullet,” he said, and then paused and smiled. “Of course, you don’t need me to tell you that.”
“But how did you even get here?” Alex asked. “I didn’t know American doctors were allowed to work alongside the Chinese.”
“If they need your expertise, they’ll put it to use.”
“What’s yours?” Celeste asked.
“Immunology and bioterrorism.”
“So this is some kind of top-secret facility?” I asked.
“Yes, it is. This is ground zero for countermeasures every time there is an attack. This one, I must say, is brilliant—a virus that ensures it spreads by turning the host against its own species. It’s practically unstoppable, and I think it will finally end the war. If we can just stay alive until our troops reclaim the territory, we’re going to be free men and women again.”
“This wasn’t an attack,” Alex said.
“I highly doubt that,” Dr. Trowbridge countered.
“No, really, it wasn’t. I was there at the facility in New York when the first patients became infected. I worked closely with them. They all had the virus in their blood. It mutated, and that’s what caused the outbreak.”
“Really? That’s very interesting. Still, that doesn’t mean this wasn’t an attack. The virus could have mutated by design.”
“We know it wasn’t an attack because all of the patients had the virus in their blood before the war began.”
“What?” Dr. Trowbridge looked at Alex incredulously. “And how would you know that?”
“Because they were cryogenically frozen when the war started. All four of them. It wasn’t until we reanimated them that the virus mutated and the outbreak started.”
“That’s incredible. I didn’t think cryogenic reanimation was possible.”
“Neither did I until I worked in the lab where they perfected the procedure. It worked beautifully on the first patient, but the next three broke out in fever. They turned quickly, and no one was ready for what they became. It spread quickly.”
“You say three turned. What happened to the fourth patient? Was he or she eaten?”
“Royce is the fourth patient. He and I escaped together.”
Dr. Trowbridge turned and looked at me with piqued interest. “Well, well, well, a living, breathing cryonic right here in my lab. I am truly honored.”
“You won’t be once you get to know me,” I said with a wink.
“What year were you frozen?”
“Twenty-ten.”
“Oh my, I was just a teenager then. Do you remember Eminem? I used to love listening to Eminem.”
“Yes, I remember. My son listens to him.”
“Listens?”
“Well,” I laughed, “probably not anymore. He’s older than I am now.”
“And why did Royce survive?” Dr. Trowbridge asked Alex.
“That is a very good question. He also has the virus in his blood, but it didn’t mutate.”
“I’d love to run some tests on you, Royce.”
“Um, okay, but can we eat first? I’m starving.”
32.
We pulled a bag of rice from the back of the truck and cooked over the intense flame of a small, candle-shaped torch that reminded me of the Bunsen burners from my high school chemistry class. The lab had glass bowls to eat from and measuring utensils that served as spoons. With some warm meat and vegetables on top of the rice, the meal wasn’t half bad.
“This is incredible,” Dr. Trowbridge said with a groan of pleasure.
“How long has it been?” Celeste asked.
“Ah, let’s see. Two days now since the food ran out,” he said between mouthfuls. “How’d you come across these rations?”
“We raided a depot in Silver Spring,” she said.
“That’s impressive. You are some real warriors, I take it.”
“The military wasn’t there. Well, they were, but they were all infected. They all seem to have it now, at least as far as we’ve seen.”
Dr. Trowbridge stopped eating. “I see. I didn’t realize it was spreading that quickly.
I wonder if it’s made it over to the other side yet?”
“I don’t know.”
“This virus has the ability to wipe out the entire human race, and here I thought living under Chinese rule was the worst that could happen.”
Everything he said was true. All we could do was nod solemnly.
33.
That night, we slept in the doctors’ living quarters, a concrete room at the back of the lab with small plastic cabinets among several twin beds. We were safe, comfortable, and fed for the first time since the outbreak, and we slept soundly. The next morning, we had scarcely finished breakfast when Mike started writhing against the straps holding him to the gurney. Dr. Trowbridge ran over.
“He’s turned. I’m sorry.”
Mike growled and snapped at Dr. Trowbridge, who shined a light in his eyes.
“We’re going to have to do something about him,” I said.
“I’ll do it,” Alex volunteered.
“You sure, buddy?” I asked.
“Certain. I feel bad that the two of you have had to pull all the weight so far. If it wasn’t for Mike, I doubt you both would have survived the depot. Now that he’s gone, you’re going to need me more than ever. If this is the world we’re living in, it’s time for me to embrace it.”
Alex picked up a gun and walked over to speak with Dr. Trowbridge, who pointed at a door on the far side of the room. They pushed Mike’s gurney toward the door, and Alex took it inside. A short time later, Alex emerged, his clothes splattered with fresh blood.
34.
“Can I take your blood now?” Dr. Trowbridge asked.
“Sure, doc,” I said, looking nervously at Alex and Celeste, who were sitting against the side of the van, talking. “You think we could do it somewhere private?”
“A squeamish one, are you?”
“Only at the sight of my own blood.”
“Okay. We can go into that room there, and that way, if you pass out on me, you won’t be embarrassed in front of your friends.”
We entered the room adjacent to the one where Alex put Mike out of his misery. I sat down in a chair the doctor had positioned alongside a table, and he laid a syringe and several vials next to me.
“Um, doc.”
“Yes, Royce.”
“I’m not really squeamish. I have something that I want to show you, but you can’t tell the others about it, okay?”
“All right.”
I rolled back my right sleeve and removed the bandage to reveal the wound on my arm. The doctor held my arm and leaned in close to inspect it.
“I take it this is a bite.”
“Yes, doctor.”
“And it isn’t from your lady friend out there?”
“Who, Celeste? No,” I said, my face turning a slight shade of red.
“Have you run a fever?”
“I worked up quite a sweat when we fought our way in here, but other than that I’ve felt fine.”
He pulled a small metal cylinder out of his pocket. It was one of those hologram devices that Dr. Feng had shown me in New York. An image of my body emerged above it. “Nope, you aren’t running a fever. When were you bitten?”
“The same time as Mike. Bastards got me when my laser went out.”
“Well, I have some good news for you.”
“You do?”
“I do. You most definitely do not have the virus. You would have turned by now, or you’d at least have quite a high fever. Though, I shouldn’t say you don’t have the virus. I’ll draw some blood to be certain, but as Alex informed me, you already had it in your system.”
Dr. Trowbridge drew some blood from my arm and left the room. He returned about five minutes later.
“That was fast,” I said.
“I have some even better news for you. I thought you might have had a different mutated strain in your blood than those who were infected, but I don’t see that. Besides, the bite exposed you to the strain that’s causing the outbreak. It’s in your blood, but your immune system has things under control. Long story short—you’re immune.”
A wave of relief washed over me, but then I started thinking. “Why me, doc? What makes me immune?”
“That is the ultimate question. I have a hunch, but first let’s take care of that arm.”
35.
After Dr. Trowbridge healed my arm, he took me back into the lab to speak with Alex and Celeste.
“Find anything interesting?” Alex asked.
“Very interesting, indeed,” Dr. Trowbridge replied. “The virus in Royce’s blood is the same as in mine, but his immune system is keeping it in check.”
“So he’s had it all along, just like the other cryonics?”
“As far as I can tell.”
“Well, how else would he get it?” Celeste asked.
“Let me handle that one, doc,” I said. “Um, look, guys, there’s something I’ve been keeping from you. I got bit yesterday. It happened when my laser went kaput.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Celeste asked, her eyes turning fiery.
“I figured you two had enough to worry about, and, well, I was afraid.”
“Afraid?” Alex asked.
“Yes, afraid. Afraid of turning into one of those freaks.”
“Is that why you brought us here, so that you could get treatment?”
“Yes and no. I mean, what were we supposed to do? We had two wounded soldiers. Listen, I was going to put a bullet in my brain as soon as the fever started. I just wanted a chance . . . a chance for all of us to survive together.”
“And how are Alex and I supposed to trust you now that we know this? It’s life and death out there, every single moment of every day.”
“You and Al should trust me because your friendship is all I’ve got in this twisted world. And my intentions were good. Alex told me I was probably already exposed to the virus just like the other cryonics, and I didn’t want you two to get worked up over nothing. I didn’t know what else to do. At least I came clean about it.”
“I don’t know what to make of you, Royce Bruyere.”
Celeste walked off in a huff and sat in the front seat of the van. Alex went over to console her. The doctor had left the conversation when things got personal, so I was left alone to sulk.
36.
Alex came over and sat with me. He’d been talking to Celeste in the van for quite a while.
“It’ll blow over soon,” he said. “She never holds grudges for long.”
“I hope so. I don’t have enough friends to have any of them mad at me.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll get past it.”
“I take it the two of you were an item once?”
“Who me? Us?” Alex laughed nervously and his cheeks turned beet red. “No, we’re just old friends.”
“She’s quite a catch, Al. You want me to put in a good word for ya?”
“Like that will help.”
“Touché, my forlorn friend, touché. Say, how does she know my last name?”
“I told her. She asked me, and I told her. She talks about you a lot.”
Now I was the one blushing.
37.
“Guys, can you come over here for a minute?” Dr. Trowbridge called out from across the room.
Dr. Trowbridge sat in front of what from a distance looked like a large computer screen. Once I got close, I realized the image was projected in front of him into thin air. He controlled the device with his hands, waving them to drag new images onto the screen.
“Do you have Internet on this thing?” I asked.
“Internet.” He chuckled and winked at Alex. “I haven’t heard that term in a long time. Unfortunately, there’s no outside access. This is a closed system, similar to what you would call an Intranet. You can imagine the Chinese don’t want us accessing outside information.”
Celeste walked up behind me. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Dr. Trowbridge was just about to show us something,” Alex replied.
“Look at this,” he said. Two case files with profile shots of Chinese men in uniform were side by side on the screen. “These are the histories of the two soldiers I thought had responded to the antivirus, but after coming across Royce here, I’m beginning to think differently.”
“How so?” Alex asked.
“Well, for starters, Royce wasn’t exposed to the antivirus yet he didn’t contract the disease. The low hit rate for the antivirus already suggested either it wasn’t working at all or it lacked the efficacy to serve as a viable solution. So with the antivirus out, just one course of inquiry remained—commonalities among the individuals who failed to contract the disease.”
“Got all this, Al?” I asked. Alex nodded. “Good because I might need to copy your notes after class.”
Dr. Trowbridge smiled. “It’ll all make sense in a moment, Royce. Both these men fought in the oil wars in Africa, which means they had an extensive round of immunizations that most soldiers aren’t exposed to. See this here? Polio, typhoid, smallpox, hepatitis, meningitis, HIV . . . the list goes on and on.”
Dr. Trowbridge paused, and they all looked at me.
“Oh, I get it. You all are funny. You’re waiting for me to react to the HIV vaccine. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not going to jump up and down like a chimp just because you cured AIDS. In case you haven’t noticed, you have a machine that can seal up a freaking gash in my arm the size of a bratwurst in seconds. Of course, you’ve cured AIDS.”
“Well then, my background doesn’t help us much. Due to my work with infectious diseases, I’ve been vaccinated against everything under the sun. Which brings me to you, Royce. I’m willing to bet that you were born sometime in the nineteen sixties, correct?”
“Yessir, nineteen sixty-three.”
“And those poor souls in New York, the ones who started this whole thing. In what years were they born?”
Alex spoke up. “Let’s see . . . Barry was born in 1973, Elliott in 1981, and Janet was 1993.”
“I knew it!” Trowbridge yelped, thrusting both arms into the air. Then he started speaking to himself in a subdued voice, “Andrew, you clever son of a bitch, you did it.”
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