“As I was saying,” Matt continued, raising his voice. “Freezing did not kill the cells, and once they thawed, the necro-regeneration cycle continued. One unusual thing I noticed was that the two control samples seemed to develop their own regeneration cycles. The process was much faster in one control than in the other, even though they were both taken from the same subject.”
“So, what do you do about that? Take more samples to compare?” I asked.
“No, we did not take additional tissue from Baba and left the remains of her hand in the formaldehyde.”
Harley cupped her chin in her hands and stared at her feet as if in thought. “Why do you think there were differences in the control samples?” she asked.
Matt leaned back on his elbows. “Of course, I can only speculate on that. We don’t have nearly the testing capability to analyze the samples for more complete answers, but my guess is that the virus mutates quickly when separated from its original host.”
We all exchanged uneasy glances, and as always, it took Matt a few seconds to realize we were more concerned about the implications of this than we were about hearing his analysis.
“There’s no sense jumping to conclusions about what this might mean,” he said. “Later tonight, we can go back up and check on the phones. I’ll do one more check on the samples, but I expect we’ll have the same findings. If so, I think we’re ready to share what we have with Mr. Woods and Nurse Hoffstedder.”
“So, what are you doing to tell them? Do you think they’ll believe that we’re really dealing with zombies?” I asked.
“I don’t think I’d use the word ‘zombies,’ Jordan advised. “They done said there’s no such thing. I don’t think you could convince them otherwise.”
“Jordan’s right,” Matt agreed. “I think we should just show them the data and let them draw their own conclusions. Besides, it doesn’t matter what we call it. The facts are, there is a disease in the population now that causes a person to become violent and irrational as the cells in their bodies die, decompose, and regenerate. It is as if they’re dying, fighting the disease, and recovering in an ongoing cycle, all at the same time. It appears to mutate at a fast rate, so containing it will be difficult.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. We need to stick with what we’ve seen and heard with our own experiences and observations when we talk to Woods and Hoffstedder,” I said.
“I say we talk with them after dinner,” Jordan suggested.
I glanced around, and everyone voiced agreement with Matt’s plan and Jordan’s suggestion.
◆◆◆
We approached Mrs. Hoffstedder’s work station as she returned there after the evening meal. “Mrs. Hoffstedder,” I called to her. “Can we talk with you for a minute?” She waved us over, and Harley went to retrieve Mr. Woods. We gathered around by Mrs. Hoffstedder’s makeshift office. Volunteers had surrounded her work station with pieces of particle board held together with duct tape to give a small measure of privacy to her patients. A folding table had been set up inside the barrier for her to use during examinations. When Harley returned with Mr. Woods, Matt explained our findings.
“Do you mean to tell me that you left the gym unauthorized and alone and performed experiments on a piece of hand that was broken off one of the assailants?” Mr. Woods slammed his hands down on the table and glared at us. His expression was an intimidating amalgamation of anger, disbelief, and the visible desire to punch one of us.
“Do you realize that you may have contaminated everyone in this gymnasium?” Mrs. Hoffstedder said, gesturing angrily with her hands. “Matthew Fanes, I am very disappointed in you!” She scowled at Matt and stared into his face. “Sometimes you are too smart for your own good, young man. Your arrogance makes you do stupid things.”
Matt’s form appeared to shrink as she spoke.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do with you four if we can’t trust you to follow directions,” Mr. Woods scolded. “You’re putting everyone at risk. How did you even get out of the gym with all the doors closed?”
“We just removed the chains when everyone was busy doing something else.” Jordan jumped in to answer before any of the rest of us could speak.
“And you, Casey…” Mrs. Hoffstedder said as she shook her head in disbelief. “I would think after what you’ve been through, you would know better and do what you’re told. Phillip, can I speak with you in private?” she asked, looking at Mr. Woods.
They left us there, and I could hear their frustrated voices from a few feet away. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t sound good.
“Jordan,” I whispered. “They’re going to kill you when they find out you lied to them.”
“They are not going to know because nobody’s going to tell them,” he said, looking at each of us in turn. “Are they?”
Harley’s eyes widened, and she shook her head.
“I’m not saying a word,” Matt said. “We need to keep the tunnel a secret.”
“You don’t think they’re going to figure it out?” I asked. “Mr. Woods is the security guard after all. He’s been here since Lincoln was in the Whitehouse. I’m sure he knows there’s a tunnel, and he’ll add it up sooner or later.”
“Yeah, well, he hasn’t figured it out yet, and even if he does, he doesn’t know for sure that we know about the tunnel. We need to keep quiet about it.”
We exchanged quiet nods of agreement and waited. It felt like hours before Woods and Hoffstedder returned.
“Okay,” Mr. Woods said as he walked around the barrier. “We’ve discussed this and have decided that it’s in everyone’s best interest for you to be locked inside a classroom near the gym until you’ve learned to cooperate with us.”
Jordan shot up from his chair with such force it toppled over backward, falling to the floor with a metallic crash. “What? You can’t lock us up in a damned classroom!” Jordan yelled.
A group of men appeared around the barrier. “Son, I’m not happy about having to do this, but we have to protect everyone.” He turned toward the men. “Let’s go,” he said.
Jordan and Matt looked angry, and Harley was shaking.
“I still feel this isn’t necessary, Phillip,” I heard Mrs. Hoffstedder say in a low voice. “Can’t we just have someone watch them?”
Mr. Woods put up a hand, gesturing for her to be quiet. “I suggest you kids just come with us. There’s no need for this to get physical,” he said.
Mrs. Hoffstedder glowered at him.
I could see Jordan’s fists flexing at his sides, and he looked like he wanted to hit someone. I reached up and put my arm around him. I could feel his muscles tense up with anger. “Let’s just get through this,” I urged. “At least we’ll be together.”
He pursed his lips an jerked his head in resignation.
The men escorted us into the hallway, and we walked past the doors where the soldiers had attempted to retrieve supplies before being shredded by what I now firmly believed were zombies. Maybe the idea of zombies that we see in movies is just a myth, but whatever those things were, they were close enough to fit the definition in my opinion. The sun was starting to sink, and the soldiers’ unopened chests were still sitting in the grass, their forms casting long shadows across the ground.
“We’ll bring those inside after we’ve finished with dinner clean up,” Mr. Woods told the men as he gestured toward the trunks outside the window. “One of those boxes has radios in it. Not sure which one, but we can get them all inside and see what we have.”
The men herded us into the Family and Consumer Sciences classroom, and my first thought was that we could be in worse places. The room was spacious and divided into several sections, and under other circumstances, it would seem to have all the comforts of home. One section was set up like a small classroom, and several rows of sewing machines were lined up beside it. Some of them still had pieces of cloth stretched across them as if whoever had been working there had just stepped a
way for a moment. A lump formed in my throat as I realized one project looked like a baby quilt.
Model kitchenettes lined the outer wall of the room. Each one had a sink, cabinets, work table, stove, and a refrigerator. A model living room was at the far end, and beside it was a half bathroom.
While the room wasn’t that bad, like other classrooms in the building, the windows on the perimeter walls were secured by iron grids of bars that were bolted through the brick on the outside of the building. I realized that once we were locked in, there was no way to get out, other than through the door Mr. Woods planned to lock.
“You’re staying here until you learn to follow the rules,” Mr. Woods said. “An you’d better hope that nobody gets sick because of what you’ve done.”
We watched as they closed the door. I heard keys rattling on the other side, and the click of a deadbolt sliding into place echoed in the still classroom.
Harley ambled to the couch and sat down. She drew her knees up under her. “I can’t stand being yelled at,” she said. Her delicate eyebrows drifted downward, and her mouth tilted into a frown.
Jordan exhaled a sharp burst of air. “I hate being treated like a child,” he said. He wandered over to the kitchen. I noticed him looking through the cabinets and examining a stove.
“Me too,” I agreed. “Especially when we’re the only ones trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“Hey, at least if we get hungry, there’s stuff to cook. This is a gas stove,” Jordan informed me. On the counter, he lined up a box of matches, a nearly full bottle of cooking oil, and a bag of popcorn. “If we just had cold soft drinks, we’d be in business.”
“On the bright side,” Matt said as he rummaged around the class space, “if you have to do hard time, this is the place to be.”
I turned and saw Matt was carrying a laptop and a stack of DVDs. He took them to the living room area and placed them on the coffee table. He sat down beside Harley, opened the laptop, and hit the power button.
Harley watched him. “Crap, it has a password,” she huffed.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Matt replied. “Watch and learn.” His fingers flew deftly over the keys. “And there you are.”
“How’d you do that?” I asked as I moved closer and plopped down beside him.
“It’s a privileged secret of the IT Club,” he answered. “All the school-owned computers have the same backdoor administrative password.” A self-satisfied smirk crawled up Matt’s cheek. He reached for the DVDs. “I would say the computer has enough juice to watch a movie, so what’ll it be?” he asked. “We have Cowspiracy, Jiro Dreams of Sushi, Stand and Deliver, and Advanced Sewing Methods.”
“For real, Matt?” I gave him a light cuff on the back of the head. I thought you had something worth watching.”
“Where’s your sense of appreciation?” he asked. “I get that these aren’t first-run blockbusters, but it’s something to do other than sit here and think about everything else.”
“Well, y’all knock yourselves out,” Jordan encouraged as he stretched out on the other couch. “I’m gonna show my appreciation for a place to sleep with actual inner springs.”
“Okay, fine,” I said. “I vote for Stand and Deliver,” I said.
Harley grabbed a throw pillow and propped it under her arm. “I don’t care. Whatever.”
Matt inserted my choice into the DVD drive, and its whirring sound filled the silence. I leaned back against the sofa cushions and watched Edward James Olmos drive home the film’s theme about a “tough school where someone had to take a stand,” as the tagline on the DVD case said.
“What are you laughing about?” Harley questioned me. “How’s this funny?”
“Well, it’s not funny…not the movie, anyway,” I admitted. “It’s the context.” I twisted around to look at her. “Here they are with all those kids acting all big and bad like they have a problem, but I’d trade places with them right now in a heartbeat.”
“No joke,” Matt agreed. “I’ll bet they don’t have zombie parts chilling in their science lab.”
I glanced out the window, and it was nearly dark. Across the floor, Jordan was beginning to snore. We were about halfway through the movie when I heard keys jangling against the door. It flung open, and Mr. Woods stood there with another man behind him. “Everyone has discussed your situation, and they agreed to let you come back inside,” he informed us.
“They?” I asked. “You don’t sound like you’re very interested in us coming with you.”
“Let’s be clear, Casey,” he said. “I don’t like what you all did. I don’t stand for rule-breaking in my house, and I don’t want it here. It’s the kind of thing that gets people hurt.”
“We were trying to help,” Matt said.
Jordan sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes. “I was starting to like it here,” he said under his breath.
“What’s that?” Mr. Woods asked. “Do you have something to say, Jordan?”
Jordan leveled a gaze at Mr. Woods. “No sir,” he answered.
“Come on, before I change my mind,” Mr. Woods said.
We shut down the computer and left the room, following Mr. Woods and the other man. The hallways were dark. I looked out the windows of the opposite side of the hallway and saw the last curve of the blood red sun disappearing on the horizon. Darkness was falling fast. We reached the doorway, and Mr. Woods stopped. He gestured to the man beside him. “Robert and I are going to get those boxes,” he said. “Jordan, you’re a big guy. You can help us.”
“Wait!” my voice squeaked. “You can’t go out there. It’s getting dark.”
“Nonsense. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of zombies.” Mr. Woods chided. “We’ve been through this. There’s no such thing. It was probably a gang of locals, and they’re long gone by now.”
Woods and Robert fumbled with their flashlights and discussed which trunk might be the one with the radios. I glanced at Matt and Harley. Both looked as worried as I felt. I grabbed Jordan’s arm and pulled down. He leaned close to me.
“Jordan,” I pleaded. “You can’t go out there!”
He looked into my face and brushed my hair out of my eyes. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t have to outrun no zombies. I just have to outrun two old white dudes.”
I felt a tear spill down my cheek as Jordan gently guided me aside. “If you see or hear anything, and I mean anything at all, you get back in here,” I demanded.
Harley, Matt, and I huddled by the entryway as the three men removed the volleyball poles from the righthand door and laid them on the floor. They stepped outside and into the alcove. Woods swept the beam of his flashlight across the grounds as they stepped forward.
I couldn’t breathe as I watched them move in the dark. They stopped at the trunks and stood there for a moment as if they were discussing which ones to bring back. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I saw Mr. Woods bend down and open one of the larger trunks. Robert also bent down, and the two appeared to be examining the contents.
“Why are they looking through the boxes? There’s no time for that!” I cried out.
Matt clapped his hand to his mouth and took a step backward. “Are they really looking at food packages? Please tell me they aren’t looking at the food packages!”
I couldn’t see Jordan very well because the only flashlights involved were trained on MREs. Woods turned and shined his light toward Jordan, and I saw he’d picked up the small box. “I think Jordan has the radios,” I said. “I think that’s the one that Greer was carrying before he--.”
“Was decapitated,” Matt finished my sentence.
Woods and Robert had turned their attention to the other large trunk. They opened it as well, and I saw Robert withdraw a rifle. He turned it over in his hands and held it up to his shoulder in a shooting stance.”
“What the hell are they doing?” I couldn’t stand it anymore. I cracked open the door and waved my arm outside, trying to get Jordan’s at
tention. Finally, it appeared that he noticed me and started walking back toward the building.
He stopped and turned. Woods appeared to be talking to him. Jordan put down the box and went back toward Robert and Woods.
“Oh my God! I can’t take this again!” Matt began saying, repeating it over and over like a mantra.
Robert put the weapon back into the box and closed the lid. He picked up one end, and Jordan grabbed the other. They began moving toward the building and then stopped. Robert lowered his end to the ground and then switched hands. He lifted his end and took a few steps before the handle slipped out of his hands, and the trunk hit the ground.
Ba-boom! Boom! Ba-ba-boom!
Screams erupted around me. I looked out into the darkness and saw that Robert had fallen. His end of the trunk was in splinters, and smoke billowed from it. Jordan was on his knees.
“I can’t stand to watch this!” Harley cried. She retreated to the far wall and covered her face with her hands.
I watched Mr. Woods rush to Robert’s side. He was shouting and flailing his arms. Then, I heard it. Shrieks sounded in the darkness beyond the school. I pushed the door open. “Jordan! Mr. Woods! For God sake get inside!”
Jordan tried to stand but stumbled. “Is he shot? What’s wrong with Jordan?” I cried.
“No, I don’t think he’s shot. I think it was the kickback. I think the trunk hit his leg,” Matt said. “What are we going to do?” I heard Matt ask as I ran back to the Consumer Science classroom. “What are you doing, Casey?”
There wasn’t time to explain. I ran into the room and groped in the darkness as I made my way toward the outer wall. I moved forward and fell headlong over a chair, knocking the wind out of me. Gasping for breath, I got to my feet and found my way to the outer wall where the kitchenettes were situated. I slid my hands along the countertops, trying to feel my way toward my goal. I knocked over something that rolled off the counter and shattered on the floor. I kept feeling until my arm bumped something hard that fell over. A sharp sting hit the back of my hand, and the offending object hit the floor with a metallic clang. Warmth spread across the back of my hand. I’d cut myself with a knife. I felt around until I found the handle of another knife. I grabbed it and slipped it into my back pocket. Screams sounded in the night air outside the windows, and I quickened my pace. They were getting closer.
Viral Series (Book 1): Viral Dawn [Extended Edition] Page 13