by Hamrick, R M
“What else does it do?” Satomi asked as she put a pot of water over her Bunsen burner to boil.
“Well, it makes you hard to kill.”
Satomi nodded. “This virus is the most pervasive and the most enduring the world has ever seen. Upon infection, it replicates and hijacks the body and mind, shutting down higher thought processes and stimulating hunger in the presence of other potential hosts.”
“Yeah, the feeding… You’re not selling me on this.” He gave himself a single rotation around as his reward.
“— the other part of its success, is that it protects the host. It boosts the brain’s natural defenses and repair functions because the longer the brain stays intact, the more opportunity the virus has to spread. That’s the feature we’re exploiting. I’m hoping it will repair the present damage and restore your father’s mental capabilities.”
Satomi took the pot off the burner and poured the water into the teapot filled with pine needles she had collected this morning, and dried mint and ground dandelion root.
“Those upgrades only come after the virus replicates and reaches a tipping point in the body. The peptide I synthesized will signal to the virus it has already reached that tipping point, starting its protective processes. If we can keep a certain level of the peptide in the bloodstream, it should curb viral replication so it can’t get out of hand. And if we develop a cure, we can completely eradicate the virus from your father after it’s cleared out all the damaged cells.”
“And the mindless cannibalism?” Jack asked.
“Hopefully not so mindless.”
There was an awkward pause before Jack realized it was a joke.
“Funny. But, really.”
“Really, the viral load in his body should be so low that he won’t develop any of the unwanted characteristics.”
Jack spun one more time, his head back. “My dad, the zombie.”
Satomi arranged the treatment series on the tray and added honey to one of the tea cups.
First, Satomi infected Peter intravenously with the z-virus. No matter how Satomi rationalized it, it went against everything she had vowed when she took on the title of doctor. If her highly experimental treatment did not work, Peter’s body would become infected with a virus that had no cure. He would lose the little but crucial amount of brain function he had left.
Peter was cooperative for the first injection, but when Satomi informed him that the rest of the syringes were also for him, he began to get suspicious. Jack held him down as Satomi introduced into his blood the peptide that signaled to the virus it had replicated to capacity.
The peptide was something the virus naturally produced whenever it replicated in a host. As the peptide built up in the body, it slowed viral replication, giving the virus a form of self-regulation so it wouldn’t overwhelm and kill the host. By synthesizing and introducing the peptide earlier, Satomi was attempting to use the virus’s own systems for the host’s benefit. She only hoped it would work.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TRANSITIONS
The next day, Satomi didn’t notice much of a difference in Peter, except that he had fewer angry outbursts. It could have been her imagination, but if not, it indicated an increase in his ability to cope. Even if that was all that came of the treatment, it had possibly improved his quality of life and hadn’t turned him into a ruthless cannibal. But still, hoping for more, she and Jack said nothing to each other. They both stayed silent, as if speaking of the possibly imagined results would make them disappear.
Turned out, they could have discussed it loudly for days on end, because it was working. Satomi treated Peter with the peptide until the levels in his blood matched the levels in fully infected individuals. Short-term and long-term memory was recouped. His working vocabulary increased. He followed complex trains of thoughts and had his own.
Not all returns were pleasant. Soon, Jack and Peter were huddled together in tears over Evelyn’s death. Peter pulled at his hair and mourned, really mourned, for his daughter. Peter hugged his remaining child tightly. They cried together, laughed together, and cried some more.
Satomi gave what she hoped was an appropriate amount of family time before knocking on Peter’s door. She was called to come in and she quickly joined them around the wood veneer table.
Peter actually physically looked different. The hard lines in his brow and jaw had softened. His posture relaxed and his shoulders slumped. He still wore a buttoned shirt, but the collar was loose and Satomi noticed a couple of wrinkles in the shirt. Perhaps all that neatness had been an attempt to find order and peace. Satomi hoped he was now content, and wouldn’t press forward with absurd experiments.
“Hi Peter, do you remember me?” she asked.
“I don’t have any memories of you before my illness,” he said, his eyes searching. “But I know you now. You drink tea with me.” He nodded his cup to her.
“Yes, I do. I’m also a scientist and a doctor.”
“I was sick, but I feel better than I have in ages. Did you give me something?”
“I did.”
He jumped up from the table, his chair falling to the floor. Satomi found herself wrapped in a huge bear hug. So far, so good.
“How did we meet?” he asked, all smiles, still holding her in his arms.
“…your children kidnapped me.”
A giant backhanded blow hit Jack in the jaw.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t know what else to do!”
“You got your sister killed and you kidnapped this lady! Is she still captured?” he asked incredulously, looking around to verify if the room was a jail cell.
“No, no,” Satomi explained. “Your son released me. I brought you both back to my community, where we’re trying to fight the epidemic.”
“Oh,” Peter said, looking down at the ground. “That.”
“Yes, that. Were you working on it too? Is that how you got sick?”
Satomi gave him a moment. Peter returned to his chair and uprighted it.
He shook his head and let out a low chuckle. “I got sick because I tried to vaccinate myself. I knew the cures weren’t working and I couldn’t get it to work. I figured the next best thing was to bolster our immune systems so that we wouldn’t catch the damn thing.”
“That didn’t work,” encouraged Satomi.
“No, it didn’t,” he confirmed.
* * *
Audra pushed soot around on the ground with her boots. They were still bound, and the movement kept her feet from going numb. Despite involving her in discussions, Manny and Blue still didn’t trust her.
They were giving her too much credit.
The combination of her self-initiated stagnancy while Greenly planned her strike and the poor ventilation from their indoor fires left Audra feeling dumber with each passing day. Blue had left again to negotiate payment for her head. Apparently, Manny wasn’t allowed in Lysent headquarters due to his preexisting condition, which was an appropriate policy given that Manny’s health was precipitously declining. The stupidity of it all made her want to scream. She stomped on the ash.
“Need to go out, little dog?”
She ignored the question. Even the dimness of the remaining evening couldn’t hide the fact that Manny didn’t look so good. Sweat poured from the crevices of his red face.
“Manny, you’re turning. Let me help you,” she said, willing her voice to remain steady.
Manny exploded in anger, shouting, “You can’t help me, you stupid little girl.” He grabbed a metal rack and threw it against the shelves. It made a clattering noise that echoed off the wall of refrigerators. He wiped his brow with the soaked sleeve of his jacket. “No one can.”
It wasn’t the first thing he had thrown that day. At least nothing had been directed toward her yet — ricochets excluded.
“That’s not true. We have scientists working on it. We’re taking care of the sick until we can cure them.”
She needed him to see reason before reason
became impossible.
“Ha! You can’t pull this shit again. Lysent already fooled my folks. They’re in debt up to their eyeballs for my first cure.”
“…That’s why you’re selling me,” she realized aloud.
“I want to at least pay back my worth before I turn back.”
He flopped down on his bedding, sending a scurry of generic insects in multiple directions.
“Please, let me go. Neither of us has to die from this.”
Audra couldn’t think of a more pointless death than being eaten by Manny the Zombie. Stupid.
“That’s where you’re wrong, pretty. I’ve held you hostage for days. If I let you go, you’re gonna kill me or keep me for your weird collection. This way, we’re both dying from this.”
“I won’t take revenge,” she promised. “I don’t want it.”
“OH HELL YOU DON’T! Why else would you offer to be delivered to Greenly?”
“I thought she was only hurting Osprey Point to get to me.”
“Her plans are bigger than a grudge,” laughed Manny. His red hair stuck on his head with sweat. He leaned against the browning plastered wall.
“I know that now. I need your help. I can’t do it alone… no one can do it alone.” She recalled Dwyn’s constant reminders.
Manny hacked into his sleeve. Looked down at it. His nostrils flared with surprise and fear. Was he coughing up blood? Manny was going to turn and Audra would have to watch, arms and legs bound.
“Too bad you are alone. So am I.” He slumped over and was quiet for a few minutes before he began to snore. His body heaved with the effort of his breathing, and convulsed periodically with fevered sleep.
Audra felt her eyelids grow heavy. She responded by adjusting her shoulders and sending searing pain down her back. As she listened for the snores to end and the snapping of teeth to begin, she searched the thrown debris for something to cut her binds. Eventually she settled for the sharpest rock bordering their fire circle. She finagled it behind her back and began scraping against the rope. If nothing else, it was something to do.
* * *
As the sun faded, Manny didn’t stir to build their nightly fire. There wouldn’t be much time before their abode was enveloped in darkness. Audra risked standing up, balancing with ankles tied. She hopped, scooted, and pivoted until she reached the door.
It was jammed up.
Audra started on the windows, pushing the shelving with her shoulder to see what, if anything, gave.
“What are you doing?” asked a voice behind her.
She turned in surprise.
“Just trying to find a way out of here before you turn and eat me,” she said coolly.
“Sit down. I’m not gone just yet.” His voice scratched.
She backed around him and returned to the cooler where she was sitting. The rock still hidden in her palm.
“Drop the rock.”
She dropped it without a word.
He came up behind her again and this time Audra gagged from the smell of his yeasty sickness. She felt her ropes tighten then loosen. They fell to the ground. Her shoulders cried in their sockets as she brought her arms forward.
“Build a fire,” he said.
Audra did as she was told, but kept a close eye on him. He was leaning up against a shelf, slouched partly over. He pulled out a flask and drank heavily from it. She figured he had been saving it all for this night. It was not a night for savoring, but a night to die. She hoped it wasn’t hers too.
In leaning the logs, Audra’s hand dragged across a large splinter of wood. Risking the noise, she snapped it off as she positioned the kindling. She peeled some off the end to crudely hone the tip to sharpness. She’d only get one chance to stab something vital. She tucked the shiv into her sleeve and started the fire with one of the matches.
Matches.
What an odd thing for these shepherds to carry. Why carry matches instead of flint or another reusable fire starter? Modern conveniences must die hard.
A large belch emanated from the corner as the fire sparked up. The flask lay on its side, done. He started to bob his head up and down, the sickness and the alcohol making his eyes float in his head. Audra didn’t ask about her bindings. And he didn’t seem to remember them.
“Anything I can do for you?” she asked. There wasn’t much that could be done. Bind his hands? Ha. Sing for him? God, she hoped not.
“Not a thing, honey. No one can do nuthin’ for nobody. We’re alone here. It’s been a long time coming.”
“I’ll at least boil some water so you can have some to drink.”
“Have some to throw up, you mean.”
That was true too. But she imagined that the moonshine he downed would be enough to vomit for a bit.
She poured water from the bucket of unboiled into the pot. She set it up against the flames. The guys hadn’t bothered to find a grate or anything to cook upon. They subsisted on barely boiled water and jerky and protein bars provided by Lysent. All of their supplies, she thought of the matches, were bought from Lysent. She bet the shepherds were kept on a pretty tight financial leash just as the taggers were.
“You put me out of a job, you know. Now she got that army, she don’t give a shit about the herds I push around. Now they just rotting in the corrals. Worthless like me.” He spat just inches from himself.
Audra hadn’t really thought about how she had turned the system upside down. Shepherds. Taggers. Zombies. She had caused a lot of trouble, but right now, she found she just wanted to help Manny. Give him some moments of peace and keep him company. Something her sister didn’t have. Audra repositioned the pot to get it into a warmer spot. She wanted it clean and cooled off for him. It was the least she could do.
It was one thing to turn once. It was another to know it was coming again.
Audra’s body threw itself onto the hard floor without her permission as the explosion rang out, shaking her bones.
When the echo in her ears subsided, she could feel the coldness of tile on her cheek and the silence. The smell of copper reached her and she turned her head to peek.
There he lay flat, not far from her. A large crater formed at the top of his head. Blood and wads of soft material splattered on the floor. A sawed-off shotgun between them.
Audra stood up, her teeth rattling. The sight wasn’t all that unfamiliar, but the explosion of noise and the fact that he was there — and then he wasn’t — sent adrenaline coursing through her body.
He was alone.
And so was she.
A shocked, bitter laugh escaped her lips. She couldn’t convince Manny he wasn’t alone any more than her friends could have convinced her. With Manny gone, she could still make her way to Lysent. She could surrender to Greenly, try to kill her, hope this madness stopped.
Or, she could stop demanding to be alone.
Audra heard the creaking of shelves and plywood.
She reached for the shotgun, but her arm jolted in large twitches. Instead, she kicked the weapon underneath a shelving unit.
God, what poor timing. She could have been gone.
“Audra?” called out Dwyn, his voice brittle and shrill. “Are you OK?”
“I’m OK!” she responded in both relief and panic.
“We heard a gunshot. Are you OK?” came Ryder’s voice, clear and slow.
“Yeah,” she said. She hadn’t realized they were nearby.
“We’re going to get you home,” Dwyn said through the door, while he pulled and pushed.
Home.
Before the water started bubbling in its pot, Audra was in Dwyn’s arms. As the adrenaline faded, her upper body rang out in sharp pains from her former bindings, but the steady pressure of his body brought comfort and the sure sign she was no longer alone. She breathed in his musk and tried to settle her ragged breath. Ryder searched and retrieved the shotgun, but found no extra shells on the body.
“How did you know to look for me?” Audra asked.
“Ryder
found out from Jack,” Dwyn whispered into her hair as he kept her in the hug. “We were looking for you.”
Audra nodded into his chest. His hands were on her back, strong and steady. She felt their strength and imagined them curling as they ripped into her spinal muscles and dug between her ribs. Audra abruptly shook out of the embrace. Dwyn took a glance at the body of her captor and began to lead her away.
“Why did he do that?” asked Dwyn. Audra shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him yet.
Ryder smiled and took her by the shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
“Wait,” said Audra.
She poured the water from the pot, extinguishing the fire. Then inside the pot, she dropped five yellow tags. She hoped when Blue redeemed them, he’d split the cash with Manny’s family. They didn’t deserve the hand they’d been dealt.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RETURNS
In the darkness of night, the trio hiked to Osprey Point. Adrenaline and the worry Blue might return kept them moving forward against passing desires of sleep. The cold fresh air and the familiar motions helped Audra shed the lingering dread from the recesses of her brain and the shock from her frame. She appreciated that Ryder and Dwyn didn’t push her to talk. Conversation would be more tolerable within Osprey Point’s fences and underneath the morning’s rays.
In the passing time, Audra tried to compose herself and she arrived at Osprey Point all business. She marched to the blown fence to inspect it, despite the fact that darkness still encompassed them. Ryder tried to reassure her that Jack and Marla had reinforced it and nothing needed to be done before morning. Audra took the hint and dismissed her for the night.
Ryder raced off to wake Satomi from what was probably a great night’s rest. Something she hadn’t had for a long while. Dwyn remained at her side, near the vague form of the fence. With the flashlight pointed at the ground, she more felt his presence than saw it. His body was warm, broad, and strong.
“People will still be asleep for a bit. Now would be a good time to wash and rest up,” Dwyn suggested.