“It is.”
“Funny,” Mickey said, “they’re looking like they know we’re here.”
“We’ll show you something interesting,” Singh said. “Hayden?” He gestured to one of the people in the room with a motion like he was turning a knob.
“You’ll note the wires connected to the sides of Al’s head.” Singh pointed them out. “They’re connected directly to the parietal lobes.”
“What’s that?” Mickey asked.
“It’s part of your brain responsible for language,” Bear said.
“Yes, it is.” Singh was pleased. “One of the reasons we chose these three over others available to us outside is because of the viability of their throats, vocal cords, and mouths. Dysarthria—or something like it—seems to set in as the bodies decompose. Something we’ve found, well, let’s just show you. Okay, Hayden? One hundred fifty, please.”
The young woman in the white lab coat Singh spoke to cranked a knob on a console and the zombie nicknamed Al shook as electricity coursed through its head and down through its body. As Mickey and Bear watched it went rigid, lifted its neck, opened its mouth and said, “The rain in Spain falls mainly on...”
“Holy shit,” Mickey said. “What the fuck was that?”
“Again, Hayden, please” Singh said. When Hayden turned the knob a second time the zombie went rigid and blurted, “I’ve been slimed…”
“Unreal,” Bear said.
“Once more,” Singh said.
“Tea and crumpets, governor…”
“That’s crazy,” Mickey said.
“No, like your friend said, it’s remarkable.”
“Nah, I agree with Mickey,” Sonny said. “That is crazy. Never ceases to amaze me.”
“What’s causing it?” Mickey asked. “I mean, I get the electrical stimulation or whatever to the brain, but…”
“Does it know what its saying?” Singh asked. “We don’t think so. Does it repeat itself? Occasionally.”
“That’s very disturbing,” Bear said.
“I can see why,” agreed the doctor. “It’s so human, so like us. And yet, one look at them, and well, they’re nothing like us, anymore. You do know they will eat until their stomach bursts, right?”
“And keep eating,” Bear added.
“Yes, and they will keep eating. They seem quite impervious to pain.”
“Except burning,” Bear said.
“Except burning,” agreed Sonny. “There’s something about fire Zed don’t like.”
“You know what probably freaks me out most about this whole zombie thing?” Mickey said.
“What’s that?”
“It’s how right the movies got it. I mean, directors like Romero and Argento, Fulci and de Ossorio, right?”
“I’m unfamiliar with most of those. I’ve seen a couple of the Romero films,” Singh said. “You’re correct. It’d be like if something happened and vampires suddenly became a reality, only to conform to the Anne Rice ground rules.”
“There’s no explaining it,” Sonny said wistfully. “Not yet at least.”
“You think there will be one day?” asked Bear.
“I have to hope so. I mean, there were what, six or seven billion people on Earth when this happened? How many billions of them are Zed now? So what’s our alternative? I mean, we either find a way to, I don’t know, live with them, or we have to kill all of them.”
“You think that can be done?”
“Again, what’s the alternative? I’ve got a daughter, Torrie. You’ll meet her later. She’s almost seven. All she can remember is this bullshit. Is that what the rest of her life is going to be like? Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“In the interim,” Singh said, “we live our lives here as best we can. All things considered, it really isn’t all that bad.”
“No, it doesn’t look like it is,” Mickey said. “So, this is the secret lab, huh?”
The doctor grinned. “We purposefully try not to keep secrets here. This lab is open to all. No one’s told them about the job complexes yet I assume?” Singh looked at Sonny who shrugged. “Well, you’ve been here less than a day. Let’s just say, if this interests you, you can have your chance to work here too one day very soon.”
“That’s okay,” Mickey said. “Quite honestly, I don’t like being around these things.”
“Understandable,” Singh said. “Why don’t we go upstairs then for those physicals?”
“From what I hear you guys are invited to a little party tonight,” Sonny said.
“Yeah,” Mickey said.
“Well, I’m going to say goodbye for now but I’ll see you tonight, and you guys will get to meet Torrie.”
“Cool.”
Ten minutes later Mickey was stripped down to a towel around his waist in Dr. Singh’s office, the door closed. Singh stood back with his arms folded, studying his torso.
“How long have you known you’ve had the plague?”
“I don’t know. A few weeks. I’m not contagious, am I?”
“I’d say not. You’ve been with your friends for a considerable amount of time, first in that place, Eden, you told us about, then on the road, and they’re not infected.”
“Thank God,” he said. “I didn’t think I was, but…”
“No, you’re not contagious. Your friends, they don’t…?”
“No. They have no clue.”
“Hmmm. Maybe better to keep quiet about this for awhile. But you saw how the zombies downstairs reacted to you when you walked up to the glass, yes?”
“Yeah. You saw that too, huh?”
“Yes. As, I’m sure, Sonny did. And the others downstairs.”
“Shit.”
“I’ll talk to Sonny and the others, but you tell no one,” Singh said. “And let me tell you why. Remember earlier Sonny was telling you and your friend, Bear, that not everyone here believes that the plague infected are benign?”
“Yeah.”
“And you noted there was only Michael here, only one man with the plague?”
He nodded.
“Well, there have been others.”
“What do you mean, doc? Where’d they go?”
“I don’t know. They disappeared. I mean, I have my suspicions, but until I have proof…”
“What do you think happened to them?”
“I think they were forcibly exiled, let’s say.”
“Forcibly exiled?”
“Thrown out of here. One morning myself or Malden or another of the staff show up for work and they’re just gone. And no one knows where they went. They’re never seen again.”
“You think someone is killing them?”
“Killing them? I’d hope not. That’s part of the reason Sonny was here today. He’s a military man you know. We’re reconsidering security around this facility. I think someone is sending the plague-infected packing, threatening them to never come back.”
“Hmmm.”
“Yes.”
“Doc, what does this mean, for me I mean?” He gestured to the bruising and scabs on his torso.
“You said you first noticed these a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah.”
“It started out as some slight discoloration, like bruising? Like these spreading to your upper arms and thighs?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“Well, let me speak frankly, yes?”
“Please do.”
“Most people who contract the plague are contagious and have to be kept from the others. They don’t last long. Others, like yourself or Michael, are not contagious and can move about freely—”
“How long, doc? How long I got?”
“Could be a few weeks, a few months. Maybe a year. Maybe more. We just don’t know.”
“Shit.”
“We have people here, people you could talk to.”
“I’m talking to you, doc.”
“And I need to be honest with you. You understand?”
“It’s al
l I’d expect.”
“Have you seen what happens to plague victims?”
“It’s bad, right?”
The doctor shook his head, “Well, it’s not good, but… Look, you’re here now. When the time comes, we can keep you comfortable. And you’ve got time. You might have plenty of time. But I wouldn’t tell anyone about this if I were you.”
“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” he said. “When I first suspected, I felt so selfish keeping quiet about it. I mean, there was the fear I’d infect the others, especially Julie and the baby, but, but I didn’t want them to, to…”
“I understand. And as it turns out, your reticence didn’t lead to any harm.”
“Well, I did shoot Gwen in the arm.”
“Yes, you did. And you also secured that tourniquet much too low, but we’ll keep that between us too, yes? After all, Gwen will heal.”
“What about our other friend—Buddy?”
“Malden and I were talking about him. He was near catatonic when Bear carried him in here. And you say he’d been like that for a couple of days?”
“Yeah, but he…he got worse fast, really fast.”
“You know, Malden met Buddy here once before. When Buddy arrived with Panas and the other two. How long has it been, you said, since Buddy returned to your place, to this Eden?”
“I don’t know. Three weeks? Maybe a month tops. Bear will remember better.”
“I came here six months ago, Mickey. And I never met Buddy.”
“Well, you’ve got like what, two thousand people living here?”
“No, that’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean then?”
“According to Malden and Panas and the others, Buddy left here to return to Eden six or seven months ago.”
“But that—”
“That means it took him five or more months to return to you and this Eden place.”
“That’s—then where the hell was he all that time?”
“That’s the thing. He was wandering around, out there, with those things, with the zombies.”
“For months? Jesus.”
“Yes. And he wasn’t alone. Hhe left here with another man—”
“Sal…”
“—who wanted to get back to his wife—”
“Camille…”
“—in Eden. You said he arrived back in Eden unaccompanied, yes? Well, your friend is very sick, and his sickness is not physical. Now, you’ve gotten a chance to look around a little? Well, sometime in the next day or so someone will come and give you the longer tour, explain to you how things work here.
“It’s really quite, well, I guess I’d have to say it’s amazing. Participatory economy and all that. Now, I should be taking a look at your friend, Bear, out there. Does he have a name other than Bear?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.” Mickey, buttoned his shirt. “I’m worried about him.”
“What about him?”
“He is getting, I don’t know, quieter. He’s…I guess I’d say he’s withdrawing.”
“I’ll talk to him. Why don’t you go and check on Julie and Gwen?”
“I will.” He stood. “Hey, doc, one last question?”
“Shoot.” Singh held up his hands like he was warding off a blow. “No pun intended.”
“Oh, you’re a funny one. One of the women we met yesterday when we…her name is Lauren.”
“I don’t know her. Like you pointed out, there are close to two thousand people living here. I know a lot of them, maybe most of them. But not her. Why, is she cute?”
Mickey smiled. “Heck, yeah.”
The doctor smiled. “Take care of yourself. Come and see me in two or three days or I will come and see you.” He opened his door. Bear was sitting in one of the chairs in the hall, dwarfing it. “Come on in, please.”
Bear entered silently and Singh shut the door.
“Why don’t you start by stripping down to your underwear?”
The doctor made some notes on a clipboard while he disrobed.
“You probably get a lot of comments about your size,” Singh said when he stood in his drawers.
He shrugged.
“Don’t feel uncomfortable. I did not mean that in a sexual way. What are you, about six-two?”
“Yes.”
“You have a name, aside from Bear?”
“Yeah.”
“What is it?”
“Jimmy.”
“Jimmy. Well, Jimmy,” Singh frowned, “you look more like a Bear than a Jimmy to me. I guess that’s why they call you Bear.
“These tattoos. You were part of a motorcycle club at some point in your life?”
“Yeah.”
“Which one? Angels? Mongrels? No, I see, Pagans.”
“How’d you know that, doctor?”
“This tattoo.” He indicated the ink on his back. A deity sat on the sun holding a sword. In red, white and blue the word Pagan’s was above the god and the initials MC beneath. “This is Surtr, fire-giant. I used to read about one-percenters when I was a little boy in Mumbai. I was a big Chuck Zito fan. Was he as bad-ass as was claimed?”
“I wouldn’t know. I never crossed paths with him. But I wouldn’t mess with him.”
“Few would.”
“You know what that tat on my back means, then you know what the tear drop under my eye and the spider web on my elbow mean.”
“You’ve killed men.”
“I’m not proud of that.”
“You carry this much muscle naturally?” He noted how the doctor deftly changed the subject. “Insipid question, yes? Of course you do. You’re a natural meso-endomorph. Were you a bodybuilder?”
“Powerlifter.”
“Well, looks like you could have had a career as a bodybuilder if you’d wanted.”
“I used to be a heavier than I am. Fatter.”
“Lost a lot of weight, have you?”
“Starvation will do that to you.”
“Well, no one starves here,” Singh said. “What do you think about our town?”
“It’s…it’s great.”
“You’re a man of few words, huh?”
Bear shrugged.
“Your friend, Mickey? He’s worried about you. Told me you’ve been getting quite taciturn of late.”
“That’s what you were talking to Mickey about? Me? Isn’t that against doctor-patient confidentiality or something?”
“I was talking to Mickey five minutes ago. Five minutes ago you weren’t my patient. Now you are. I won’t talk to Mickey about you any longer. You look fine, by the way, physically. Those scars on your torso, multiple stab wounds?”
Crusade (Eden Book 2) Page 22