Humanity Gone (Book 3): Rebirth

by Derek Deremer

  “Like?”

  “Where to begin.” He turns towards me, his hands jammed in his coat pockets. I reluctantly meet his gaze. “We're still alive. Against all odds, here we are. We've survived when thousands have died. If I wouldn't have found you when I did, you'd probably already be gone. And now we sit in this hospital, facing certain death, yet there is still hope. Those two are probably the closest in the whole country to getting a cure, and they are here with us.”

  “It's luck Nichols. It's all luck.”

  “Well that may be, but I like to think it’s something more.” The right side of his mouth turns up in a smile as he leans his elbows back onto the railing.

  “Anyway, you’re stronger than me I guess,” I answer, separating from him and beginning back towards the door. “It's easier to not have faith than to have it.”

  “Not stronger,” he says, not changing his posture, but turning his head slightly towards me.

  I stop my stride and look at the cowboy from my side. He has this smile. It's contagious. There is something about him that makes me kind of think that no matter what happens that it will be okay.

  It's a security I haven’t felt since the cabin.

  I cough into my hand; my throat throbs after I finish.

  “We better get back. I don’t know ‘bout you, but I’m exhausted,” Nichols says walking towards me and placing his hand on my back. “We can look for supplies later.”

  I nod. We head back to the lobby. The farther we get, the more tired I become. Exhaustion floods my insides. My steps become shorter and less frequent.

  It won’t be long now until-

  Nichols takes my hand, and I briefly forget my fear.

  Chapter 15: Carter

  “I know. It's not easy. But, we wanted to tell you both in private and let you decide on your own how we should tell the rest,” Nate says while loosening his collar. Beads of sweat roll down his face.

  “So you’re saying you need one of us to donate all of our blood?” I ask, already feeling my heart pound.

  “There has to be another way,” David says.

  “I wish there was,” Laura answers with a sad face. She looks to me and then her eyes fall to the floor. “There just isn't enough time. Judging by all our symptoms, most of us are down to hours – not days.”

  There isn’t another way; they would have thought of it. David knows that. It had to be asked – those futile words had to come out of one of us.

  “Couldn’t you take half from each of us?” I ask, motioning with my hand between David and me.

  “It needs to be a single donor,” Nate answers. Behind his glasses, his eyes close. “No,” he says, with his head now hanging.

  “Well this sucks,” David says, forcing a smile and turning towards me. I return with a slight nod. I might’ve laughed; it did suck.

  “I’ll do it,” David says while stepping forward and raising his hand slightly. I quickly protest.

  “Like hell. You’re the strongest of us all. They will need you in case those New Americans find us. They're probably scouring every science and medical building in the city looking for us. They know what we are after. It's only a matter of time.”

  “Carter, think of Paige.”

  “I am thinking of her. You’re her best chance for her to leave here alive.”

  “Do you think she would agree with that?”

  There is a pause.

  “No-” I mumble.

  “Exactly, let me do this”

  “No. I’m not letting you just throw it away so easily. I can't let you do that.”

  “Fine. We'll flip a coin.”

  “You want to decide who lives and who dies with a flip of a coin?”

  “You have a better idea?” he says. Reluctantly, I agree.

  “Fine.”

  “Promise me though,” he says, “no, matter what this says, we stick to it. This needs to be done.” I turn my head. Nate nods in agreement.

  “That goes for you, too,” I reply.

  “I know. Now where the hell do we get a coin?”

  Laura reaches into her pocket and withdrawals a small coin. She places it slowly into David's hand. His hand closes around her fingertips briefly.

  She pulls her hand away. “Thank you,” David manages to say while turning. David holds the coin with two fingers up in front of me.

  “Why do still carry that?” I ask Tori. She looks to me and shrugs her shoulders.

  “It’s just a small reminder of what was,” she answers, looking only at me. I feel like there is more to it than that, but she never continues.

  “Heads it’s me, tails it’s you,” he says. I nod in agreement. He flips the coin in the air.

  He tries to catch it, but he misses. The nerves must be too much. The coin bounces off the ground with a subdued tap. Our eyes fall to the ground, to the spinning quarter. I bend down to look. David sets his boot on top of it. I stand straight and look at him.

  “Whatever it says?” he asks one last time.

  “Whatever it says.” I respond, staring at each other. The weight of this burden becomes clear.

  “It’s been a pleasure, sir,” he reaches out his hand. I take it firmly. We've been through a lot together these years. I owe so much to him and Ryan. I just hope whichever one of us survives this can eventually turn Ryan around.

  “Alright.” He moves his shoe. I bend down.

  It’s tails.

  It’s me.

  My head becomes light as I look at the quarter.

  “I’m sorry,” David says, his face sad. He looks up as if to argue, but he knows what I will say. He looks down, defeated. He knows arguing with me is futile. “I'm sorry man. We can find Paige and then tell the others.”

  “No. There isn’t time.”

  “What do you mean there isn't time?” David snaps, throwing both his hands out to the side.

  “This needs to be done, now. I don't-”

  “She’ll never forgive you. I'll never forgive you-”

  “Nate, let's go.” I say. David steps in front of me. This isn't the time for this.

  “I'm about to level you. I know it's not easy, but you have to do right by her.”

  “I am trying to do right by her. I can’t deal that the last image of Paige will be her in tears. It makes this too difficult. Just let me get something from the room. There’s something I want you to give her.”

  “You're a coward,” he says. He's right, and it hurts. I turn to him, feeling the tears welling within my eyes. She is truly the first woman I have ever loved. I think that's why this is so difficult. That is why I do everything for her, even if she doesn't always see it that way.

  “I know...”

  “Do the right thing,” he says. I finally nod in agreement. Telling her is what she would want.

  “I'll give it to her myself,” I say. I turn to him as he walks beside me to the adjacent patient room. They all deserve a goodbye. “Then I'll say goodbye to the others. Thanks.”

  He nods.

  We walk out of the laboratory and into another room. We pass a few who are preoccupied around the small fire in the center of the lobby; most of them are in the patient rooms. They don’t even see us walk through.

  Good. I want to be with Paige first. Then Jo and Caitlyn.

  David follows me into the room. I want to give Paige the picture of the older couple from our house. Before we left, I folded it and threw it in my bag. It really is silly, but I planned to pull it out to raise her spirits. I'm not sure how well it will work this time. I reach into my backpack and-

  My body goes limp as something slams into the side of my head. I fall, landing on my back, pain radiating through my skull.

  David stands above me.

  “It's better this way,” he says with a smile.

  Everything fades to black.

  David, you son of a…

  Chapter 16: David

  “Rest up, man. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” I pull his crumpled body
up onto the bed. I position his head on the pillow and give a weak smile. “You’ve got a lot more to live for, my friend. Paige, Caitlyn, all of them. They need their Dr. Carter.”

  I leave the room and head back to the laboratory, carefully shutting the patient door behind me. My feet feel as if they are strapped with iron weights as I make my way through the waiting area towards the double doors. Most of the others are in nearby patient rooms. Ryan sits in a chair. He seems the least infected of them all. His hand shakes lightly as he studies a brochure from the wall. The brochure is about SIDS. He looks up at me as I come close to him. A grave look appears on his reddening face.

  “What did the nerds want?” he asks, closing the pamphlet and setting it beside him on the chair.

  “They need a blood sample.” I guess that is the truth.

  “Look David, I know why you came back today, but you need to listen to-”

  “I know Ryan,” I interrupted him. “Just, I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to be strong. But you're almost unrecognizable. The way you act and talk, it's as if you lost your soul. Most of this country has lost their humanity. Don’t be like them.”

  He looks to me and then to the back wall. Somewhere not too far back in there is the old Ryan. The one who I helped save an entire neighborhood of children. The one who was always there for me because I was always there for him.

  My best friend.

  His stillness breaks with a solemn nod. Perhaps his eyes glisten, but the room is too dark to know for sure. I place my hand on his shoulder and give a light squeeze. I take a few more steps to the door.

  “Thanks,” he calls to me in a monotone voice. I turn back. “You’ve been like a brother since this whole hell started. When you get done in there, we’ll do a patrol together. I’m pretty much the last one able to do it.”

  I nod, swallowing deliberately before I speak. “Sounds great.” My voice nearly breaks as I walk through the doors and into the laboratory. It isn’t that I am about to die, it was Ryan’s words. They were still so cold. He said it because he feels that it is something that I needed to hear – not something that he believes.

  What will it take to bring him back?

  As I walk up into the room, Nate turns and looks to me. I'm obviously not Carter.

  “Not all of us were going to make it out of this one anyway,” I say, closing the glass door behind me. It has to be me instead of him. He is stronger than I am, and they all will need him.

  “I thought it was going to be...?” Nate responds with a bewildered look. He eyes the door as if preparing to run out and find the one who was supposed to walk in. Yet, he remains. Sweat beads down his temples and reaches his uncertain face. Hints of the rash seem to crawl along the bottom of his neck under his shirt. Nate starts coughing again. It takes a few moments before he can manage to regain his composure.

  “Time’s ticking away. Are you really going to argue?” I nearly yell back at him while hopping onto the gurney along the far wall. I roll up my sleeve, and point my forearm toward him. A vein already bulges beneath the joint. My voice lowers. “Just get this over with. There’s not much time left for all of you.”

  Nate's eyebrows furl beneath his glasses as his gaze switches from my arm to the needle on the nearby tray. He isn't the most experienced with using needles, but he'll do. Paige shouldn't have to do this, and anyone else who could is, well, unconscious. He turns to the table. The snap of a rubber glove against skin sounds like a gunshot in the quiet room. Another snap. He returns, now holding the needle in his left hand with the stretched rubber tube in his other. It extends to some sort of machine on the nearby counter. I've never seen one like it before in all my time at hospitals. I guess that thing is the reason we came here. Our eyes meet briefly, and then he looks at my arm. I momentarily turn my head away. The cold needle touches my skin for just a moment, and it pierces my arm. There is no real pain - just an odd pressure. The small clear tube changes to maroon as it flows back into the machine. Nate places a piece of medical tape to hold the needle in place.

  What a first time to give blood.

  “Pump your fist; it will speed up the process.” he says. My fingers extend and tighten multiple times. The blood seems to flow faster within the tube. Why drag this out any longer than it has to be?

  “You sure this is going to work?” I ask. He turns to the machine and watches as my blood fills the contraption. Again, he coughs violently into the crook of his arm. The plague is really taking its toll on him.

  And he isn’t the only one.

  “Yea. Somewhere in your blood lies the key. I just need to find it. It's going to take many trials, but with this quantity and the equipment, I could have it isolated by morning. As soon as I find that, a cure can be synthesized by lunch if my already existing theoretical calculations are accurate.”

  I smile slightly as he adjusts his glasses and fixes his attention back to the machine. God, he is a nerd and much more overt about it than Laura.

  Quiet minutes pass with only the low hum of the machine as it continues to ingest my blood. He switches between pacing and leaning against the nearby table. Occasionally, he has to switch out a bag of my blood from the machine. His mouth hangs slightly open; he doesn't know what to say. His restlessness makes me nervous.

  “So how long will this take?” I finally manage to break the dull silence.

  “The bags are filling quickly. Not much more than an hour. You will probably pass out within ten to twenty minutes though. Your pulse will end within the hour.”

  “Oh...” With less than an hour left to live, I wish I could have more intellectual thoughts. Instead, my mind goes blank. I think of everyone in the lobby - the world outside. This could save all of them. I guess it's worth it. I think briefly about her, and smile lightly, but Nate's grim face cuts it short. We retreat to silence again.

  My stomach gives a nauseating turn.

  “Nate, I'm getting really dizzy. I feel like I'm gonna be sick.”

  “I was afraid of that; losing lots of blood will cause that reaction.” Nate walks behind me to the counter. I struggle to turn my head. The sound of a bottle sliding on a counter emanates from behind. He walks beside me.

  “This is some chloroform that I found in here. I can knock you out with it if you like.”

  My eyelids grow heavier. I can manage just a little bit more. I don't need the drugs. This won't last much longer, and I still want to say one more thing to him.

  “No, I don't need that. I'm already getting weary.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yea.” I respond. He sets the bottle back on the table and looks down at me. His eyes quiver, and tears form at their corner. Watching him cry on my behalf makes me feel guilty. “Look Nate. There’s something I’ve…”

  “Save your final thoughts. I know,” he says.

  “I don't know what to say. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too. This wasn’t your choice,” he replies. While fighting my closing eyelids, my peripherals go dark. Nate's face becomes blurry.

  “It was my choice,” I say, probably grinning for the last time.

  My breaths become farther apart. I finally close my eyes. It's time to go.

  Chapter 17: Tori

  Coughing has become as regular as breathing to all of us as we sit in the hospital lobby around the small fire. Most of us are running high fevers, and despite our best efforts to manage the symptoms, we know our conditions are only getting worse. Some look farther along than others do, but the plague is moving faster than I recall that it did the first time. It feels kind of like we are back at the Ax.

  Except now, we are all dying.

  Darry lies beside me. I think he is asleep. He is one of the sickest. Even in sleep, his hands clutch tightly around the corner of the blanket that I pulled over him. I move my hand through his hair. Apparently, David went in there a few hours ago so they could analyze his blood. Hopefully the three of them will manage to find something soon.


  Darry isn't going to last much longer. I look around to some of the others. They won't either.

  He tried to get rid of the name Darry - said it was too immature. He hated it. I still like it. It’s how he first introduced himself to me.

  “Darry,” he said with his hand extended while adjusting the pack on his back. Even then, his face still looked worn with bags drooping beneath his eyes. We found him while scavenging in a nearby neighborhood. He told us to leave him alone, but luckily, we insisted that he come back with us.

  Back then, I was part of a small group of survivors who had taken refuge in a superstore. However, much had happened to me before then. My mother had been the owner of a small grocery store, and when everyone started to get sick, she locked the doors, and closed down the shop. She knew the store would be a valued resource when all the grids went down. While she was suffering from the first symptoms of the plague, she moved most of our possessions from our nearby house into the small store. She explained that with the gates down, the store would be secure for my cousins and me. They came to live with us when their parents died at the start of the outbreak.

  Dad was one of the first to die. My older brother followed him quickly. Being the last one left, Mom wanted to do everything in her weakened state to make sure I wouldn’t join them for a very long time.

  She became bed ridden after chaining most of the doors with the last of her strength. Mom was hoping to board the windows too, but she told me I would have to do it.

  She died later that night.

  I did my best to keep my cousins calm. We ate well, and the small toy section provided them with the little bit of entertainment they needed to keep busy.

  The first three days were successful. Sometimes customers would come to the door, but after a few knocks, they always left the dark grocery store.

  I woke up late the fourth day to the sounds of a growing crowd outside of the store. Hiding behind the aisles, I moved closer to the front windows and glanced slowly around the side. Older teenagers, mixed with children, were screaming for the doors to open. I hesitantly backed away. As the hours drifted by, more and more people came to the entrance. Initially, they waited peacefully, but as the hours went on and once they realized it wasn't going to open, the mob grew worse.