by Tracey Ward
“Thank you, Adele!”
“Anytime!”
I run the whole way to the quarantine. It’s not a long way but it’s enough to ruin the shower I took. I don’t care. I’m excited for some crazy reason. I’m amped up and jazzed to see Alissa as though I haven’t seen her in ages. In a way I haven’t. I haven’t been separated from her for more than an hour since this madness started and here I’ve gone more than a day without her. I don’t like it. Maybe it makes me crazy or codependent or some other therapy word Alissa would know and make fun of, but I don’t care. I miss her. I’m better when I’m with her. I’m solid. I’m allowed to be angry and cranky and a jerk because I know she’ll bring me around again. She’ll bring me back to me. Back home. It’ll be a little thing like an insult or a joke or a kiss on the sly, but it’ll change my entire outlook in a heartbeat. That’s what you’re supposed to search for, right? Your best friend. Your better half.
When I reach the tent I slow to catch my breath. What I catch is the sound of a chopper in the distance. The delivery. They must have bagged the third Z which means they’ll be returning any minute. If I want to talk to Ali, I better do it quick because she’s about to be very busy. I head for the tent door and stop dead. There are angry voices coming from inside. Alissa’s for one. Syd is the other. My heart sinks but I don’t turn away. I’m going to do what Adele said to do. I’m going to see my girl and if I’m lucky, I’ll get to start some shit while I’m at it.
“You need to get out of here now,” Syd is growling.
“No, you need to leave,” Alissa barks back. “You have no business here. I’m here to help. You’re here to yell at people.”
“Not people, just you. Let’s go.”
“No.”
All eyes shift to me the second I enter the tent. The tension and anger hits me like heat rolling out of an oven, slapping me in the face.
“You brought Jordan too?!” Alissa cries. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I didn’t bring him with me. I shouldn’t have to.”
Her eyes dart to me again. “Then what are you doing here?”
I grin at her hostility. “I came to see you. I missed you.”
Her face softens, a grin forming on her lips. “I missed you too.”
“Al,” Syd starts up again.
“No,” she tells him, her face and voice turning instantly to ice. “We’re done. I’m a grown woman and I’m staying. This is my job. Do you get that?”
“It’s not safe.”
“Are you insane? Nothing is safe anymore. Where would you have me working? In the kitchens? Maybe the laundry? Should I be barefoot and pregnant folding socks?”
“Who folds their socks?” I ask.
“Who said anything about pregnant?” Syd explodes. “Are you—“
His eyes shift to me before he can finish the question and there’s so much violent hate in them I nearly step back. Nearly.
“You,” he says in a low growl.
“Dad, don’t be stupid. It’s a saying,” Alissa complains.
“So you’re not pregnant?”
“Not that I know of… for… it’s not…”
“Al,”
“Ali?” I ask, feeling my stomach drop to my feet.
“Incoming!” a voice calls from outside.
There’s the sound of tires on the loose earth. A revving of engines, the squeal of brakes, then shouts and cries overlapping each other. Leah bursts from the corner she was silently observing from, scaring the crap out of me in the process, and rushes into the night. Alissa jumps to action as well, prepping a cart full of gauze, needles and bottles.
“Al, answer me,” Syd demands, stepping toward her.
“Dad, not now. Get out of the way. They’re bringing in wounded.”
Syd and I both step to opposite corners of the tent. We’re sure to stay out of the way but neither of us is leaving here, no matter what comes through that door.
Doors slam outside as hurried voices rattle off information. They come closer, finally bursting through the door in a rush of air, dust and blood. I can smell it before I see it, but when I see it, I wish I hadn’t. Someone’s on a gurney being wheeled in quickly to the center of the room. Bodies flank him on either side and I can’t get a look at the person’s face but what I can see is the wound. It’s not a bite, it’s a gash. It’s a missing piece of human anatomy but not like my hand. This isn’t an appendage. Someone has taken a pound of flesh from this guy, straight out of his leg. They quickly drape a sheet over the wound but it soaks through immediately and I know an artery has been severed. How long has it been left to bleed like that?
“There’s nothing to be done,” Leah says quietly, her calm voice cutting through the hysteria of the men around her.
“No, it has to work. It worked before,” Simmons argues.
“Not like this. It wasn’t anything like this.”
“Should we have severed the leg?” Billings asks.
I’m doing the math now. I’m counting heads and voices to find out who is missing. Of the people I know personally, there are only two. Kyle and Alvarez. From the build and clothing on the body there’s no way to tell if it’s one of them. I want to step closer, to see the face, to know, but then again I don’t because part of me already does. The sinking feeling in my stomach Alissa gave me just a moment ago is building. It’s digging, dropping, anchoring into the ground. And it’s not done yet.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. He still would have bled out. You couldn’t save him,” Leah tells them patiently.
I see shaking heads. Simmons wipes angrily at his face.
“We put it down, Simmons,” Billings tells him stiffly. “The SOB that did this to him, he’s in the ground.”
“No he’s not, he’s on that chopper. He’s headed to the base.”
“With a bullet in his face,” Billings argues angrily.
“We should have saved him.” Simmons steps away as he rubs his hands across his short hair over and over again, his eyes never leaving the face I can’t bring myself to see. “We owed him that.”
“You couldn’t,” Leah reminds him. She touches his arm softly and he collapses against her. I can hear him weeping openly as she holds onto him. “You did everything you could for him. You’re good men. You brought him home. You didn’t leave him.”
There’s silence in the room after that. Simmons calms as Leah rubs her hand up and down his back like she’s soothing a child. Eventually he stands again, nodding to her in thanks. He keeps his head low, avoiding all of our eyes but there’s not judgment waiting for him. Everyone in this room understands his sorrow. We’ve all lost someone to this thing. To this illness that takes from you and molds what you love into a walking horror show.
I don’t know what changes but I feel Leah tense from all the way in my corner.
“Boys,” she says with forced calm, “how long ago did this happen?”
Billings takes a slow step back from the gurney. I watch his hand slip to his sidearm.
“Over fifteen minutes ago. We thought he bled out.”
There’s a low growl that emanates through the room. It’s nowhere and everywhere all at once.
“Not soon enough,” Leah whispers, backing away as well.
The tension in the room builds as we all become aware of what’s happening. There’s no time to run. There’s no place to hide. We’re trapped in this room with an infected. Strike that. With a fresh infected.
When he moves it’s faster than I expected. It’s almost too fast to see. He lunges from the gurney to Simmons, reaching for him with angry, steely hands. Billings draws his gun and quickly fires a shot. It sinks into the Zs shoulder near the neck but it doesn’t stop him. It doesn’t even slow him down. Neither does the missing chunk of thigh on his left leg. He spins around to face Billings and his gun. That’s when I get a look at him. I already knew but now I know.
It’s Kyle.
His familiar face is still so alive and utterly him. It makes Billings hes
itate. He doesn’t take the kill shot sitting right in front of him. His hesitation will cost us all. Kyle turns and reaches for the closest victim he can find. He goes for Alissa.
She sees him coming for her and she’s ready. God bless those reflexes of hers. She drops to her knees to avoid his hands. If he were a slow, used up old infected it’d be enough. He’d probably stumble over her comically and we’d all run away to live and fight another day. But Kyle is fresh and fast. His higher reasoning is still intact and even though Billings puts another round in his back, he still bends down to get his hands on Ali.
Syd tackles him from the side, taking him to the ground in a loud crash of metal and glass as the table Alissa had assembled falls to the ground. Kyle growls, Syd groans and we all rush toward them to help. Billings can’t get a clean shot anymore, not without hitting Syd, so we all move in to pull Kyle off of him.
Simmons and Billings each grab onto shoulders as I climb on Kyle’s back and wrap my left arm around his neck. It’s nearly impossible, like moving a truck, but we’re able to pull Kyle back. He fights and thrashes against us, snarling with his mouth open and jaws snapping. I think of the hours I spent in the gym with him. Of the weights we lifted. Of the strength I helped him build that’s now a wild, raging animal intent on killing us all.
“What do we do?” Simmons cries.
“There’s nothing we can do. He’s gone!” Billings shouts back.
Kyle succeeds in throwing an arm, knocking Billings back. He rushes back in, taking an elbow to the face that makes a sickening crack sound. Billings grunts in pain as a wave of blood pours down his face and over his mouth. He shakes his head quickly, breathing hard and then latches on to Kyle’s free arm again. This is a lost cause.
“We can tie him down. Secure him to something.” Simmons suggests, his voice strained.
“Guys,” I grunt.
“And then what?” Billings argues. “Keep him tied up as a pet? We can’t cure this! No one can!”
“Guys!” I shout.
“What?”
I look at Simmons because I know Billings is already aware of the situation.
“You know what we have to do,” I tell him.
He shakes his head, cursing over and over again. “I can’t, man. I can’t!”
“It was the male, wasn’t it?” I ask him.
He nods silently.
“And you put it to ground. They’ll be looking for a replacement.”
His face crumples as he fights the tears that threaten him again. But he nods in understanding. No one wants that for Kyle. We’d expect him to do this for us, we have to do it for him.
I turn to Billings to find he’s already lifted his weapon.
“Let go, Simmons,” he tells him quietly. “Move to the side so I don’t hit you. Turn around if you want.”
Simmons shakes his head. “No, I won’t turn my back on him.”
“Good. That’s good. Count of three you guys let go, alright?”
We both nod in agreement.
“One…Two…”
Goodbye, Kyle.
“Three.”
Simmons and I both let go as we jump back to get clear. Billings keeps hold of Kyle’s shoulder as he presses the muzzle of the gun quickly to his temple. He closes his eyes, turns his head. Then he fires.
Kyle hits the floor hard. His body goes without resistance. It’s good. It’s right because he’s gone now. He’s himself somewhere else. Somewhere better. Somewhere free.
I take a deep, shuddering breath then let it out slowly. It’s over. It’s done.
“Dad?” Alissa whispers tremulously. “Dad, no.”
Chapter Twenty Four
Leah rushes past me silently. She’s nothing but a blur of efficiency as she kneels beside Alissa and Syd on the debris littered ground. Broken bottles, syringes, a scalpel exposed and dangerous. Syd lies in the middle of it all. He’s leaning back breathing slow and deep. His stomach is covered in blood.
“Alissa, I need that gauze behind you,” Leah tells her quickly. “Open it and press it firmly to the wound. We need to clear it.”
“No, Al, don’t.” Syd reaches out to stop her but thinks better of it. His hand is covered in blood. “Don’t touch me.”
“We need to stop your bleeding,” Leah tells him calmly. “There’s too much blood. We can’t ignore this.”
“It’s not mine.”
“What?”
“The blood. It’s not all mine.” Syd looks past the women kneeling on either side of him. He looks to Kyle’s body lying on the floor, a pool of blood growing around him. It looks dark against the floor. Black. “It’s his.”
“Oh, thank God.” Alissa falls back onto her butt on the floor, relief leaking out of her. “I thought you’d been bit.”
“No,” Syd answers grimly.
He won’t look at her. His tone is all wrong. Where’s the celebration? Where’s his relief at cheating death? It’s not there. And now he’s looking at me with meaning in his eyes that tells me just what’s gone wrong and I feel myself withering under that stare. He looks briefly to Alissa, then back to me, making himself utterly clear. My breathing freezes, becoming brittle in my chest. It cracks and snaps, stuttering worthlessly in my lungs, making them ache and burn.
I nod stiffly to him.
“It’s a lot of pressure,” he warns quietly.
I feel my eyes burn. I nod again. It’s all I can do. It’s the only way I can tell him what words can’t. That I love her. That I’ll never leave her. That I’ll stay with her until the very end.
I glance at Alissa to find her frowning. Her eyes dart between Syd and I and it’s only a matter of time before…
“No,” she says firmly. “No, you’re fine. It’s his blood, not yours.”
“It’s mostly his, Al,” Syd tells her gruffly. He lifts his shirt to expose his stomach. To expose the thin red line of a cut along his belly. It’s not much. It’s barely anything. But it’s enough.
Alissa’s laugh is brittle. “That’s nothing. It’s fine. You’ll be fine.”
“Alissa, some of Kyle’s blood had to have gotten in,” Leah reasons with her sadly.
“No, it’s alright. It’s happened before. Jordan, do you remember? On the river?” She looks to me, her eyes shining and brilliant with hope and fear. “You were shot and you had that horrible shirt on. The one covered in sludge. We were so worried but you were fine. Do you remember?”
“I remember,” I reply softly.
“Then tell them. Tell them it’s fine, that he can be fine.”
“Ali,” I carefully kneel beside her, watching out for the broken glass and blood surrounding her. “It wasn’t the same.”
“It was exactly the same!”
“No, it wasn’t. The stuff on my shirt, it was dried and there wasn’t that much of it. This, though,” I gesture to Syd’s soaked shirt, “this is too much.”
“You don’t know that,” she says stubbornly. She looks to Leah and Syd. “None of you know that. We’ll wait it out just like we waited for Jordan. You’ll be fine, dad, you’ll see. I was scared then too but it all turned out fine.”
“Al, it’s not—“
“We’ll wait,” I interrupt him. I look at Syd hard. “We’ll wait and see. It doesn’t take long to know.”
We all know already but we owe it to Alissa to wait. To share her never ending hope and give him a chance. I’m terrified as I sit there beside her. I’m watching Syd and begging for him to stay calm, for his temperature to remain low. I want to be wrong. I want Ali to be right and to hold this over my head for the rest of our long, long lives. So I sit beside her silently and we wait.
Alissa stares down at Syd, watching his body for any signs of betrayal. I can see him start to strain and I know she does too but she remains silent. His jaw clenches as his body begins to ache. Sweat breaks out on his forehead as his temperature climbs. The clock keeps ticking, the world keeps turning but we’re trapped here between heaven and hell and no on
e seems to hear us. No one is taking requests at the moment so no miracle is performed, no shady deal with the devil is to be made. Fate rolls on relentlessly and after only ten minutes, we all know the truth.
“Al, it’s not good, hon.” Syd groans.
“Dammit,” she moans. She leans forward to reach for him but he won’t allow it. He shrinks back from her shaking his head. “Dad,”
“No. You can’t get close to me. I don’t feel right.”
We all watch as he convulses. As his body bends inward and his face turns red. Then he leans over and vomits on the floor.
“It’s happening,” I whisper to her. It feels cruel but she needs to hear it. She sees it but she needs to know it. We need to act on it.
“I know that,” she whispers back, her eyes firmly on her father’s.
“Take her out of here, Jordan. Don’t you dare let her see this,” Syd groans painfully.
I go to take her arm, to help her up, but she shakes me off.
“I’m staying with you,” she tells Syd stubbornly.
“No you’re not. You’re going with him.”
“Since when do you want me going anywhere with him? I’m staying here with you.”
“Al, this isn’t the time. Go.”
“You would never leave me behind. Never,” she says fervently, her voice trembling with emotion. “So I’m sure as hell not leaving you.”
Syd’s eyes glisten as he squints against the pain. “There’s no reason for you to be here.”
“There’s every reason,” she tells him, her voice suddenly surprisingly firm. “You’re my dad.”
We’re running out of time. I can see it in the grimace pinching Syd’s face and the sweat pouring off his forehead. I can feel it in the tension rolling off Leah beside me and the nervous shift of Simmons and Billings behind me. I hear the gun come back out of its holster.
I reach for the gauze Alissa is clenching in her hands and gesture for Syd to give me his hand. He hesitates only a second before giving it up. I wipe it clean of blood while Leah reaches out with a bottle of alcohol and pours it over his hand until it’s soaked. We work together wiping it clear before handing it off to Alissa. She clenches it between both of hers gratefully.