Before The Cure (Book 1): Before The Cure

by Gould, Deirdre

  “Because it hurts, Neil. You want to leave him in agony like that?”

  “And starving doesn’t?”

  “You’ll get no argument from me. If you’d listen to me, we’d give him the rest of the sleeping pills in that bottle in your pocket. He’s talked to his family now. He’s telling them he loves them. He hasn’t lost his mind yet. The only guilt he has on his conscience is the guy he had to fight off in the ER.”

  “You’re insane! They could find a cure any day, snap all of them out of this and you want to kill them?”

  “That’s why I said we could restrain him. Give him a few more days. And if they cure him, great. But what is it you want to do with him? Just let him wander the halls? Put him in a room near the cafe and hope the people who stay will feed him? Hope they don’t get massacred when they try to feed him and any others we— collect? Face it, the pills are the kindest method. That way, he doesn’t have to suffer. And he never has to come back to his senses or— or wake up, or whatever, if they cured him and remember what terrible things he’d done in the meantime.”

  “But we will. You prepared to live with the fact you killed somebody, Shay?”

  “We already talked about—”

  “Why’n’t you asss me?” slurred Cody, catching the drug counter to stabilize himself. “Should asss me what I wan’ do. ‘S my life.”

  Neil flushed.

  “What do you want us to do, Cody?” asked Shay. It was kind and sad, not the hissed anger she’d thrown at Neil a moment before.

  “We’re goin’ s— sssecurity. ‘S bunch of ‘em. ‘Round the elevator. SSSleeping now. Full. That lady on th’ phone, she can sssee ‘em. If they hear ush, I’ll distrac. It’ll be me. SSo you can get passt.”

  “But that’s suicide,” said Neil.

  “Closhe anyway. Real closhe now. Can feel it in my ches’ like a heart attack. Wanned a scream at my girlsh. They’re good girlsh. Wanned to smack you for waking me up. You never did anything wrong. Makess no sensse. Loshing it, Neil. Gotta go. Gotta matter. Thass what I want ush to do.”

  “So let’s stop talking about it and go,” said Shay.

  Neil was uncomfortable. “You sure, man?”

  Cody nodded. His hand was already back in his mouth. The bandage was seeping red again.

  “Harlain was supposed to draw the infected away somehow, maybe we should wait.”

  “Already handled,” said Shay. She struggled to climb up onto the counter. Once she did, she stood and waved toward the back wall. A telephone somewhere down the hallway immediately started ringing. Neil helped her down.

  “Should we— should we take anything?” he asked, glancing around.

  Shay shook her head. “Don’t really see anything we could use to hold them off.”

  “Mo’ fasster thish way an’way,” said Cody. “You got the keysh?”

  Neil patted his pocket. “Got em. Gonna need you to show me which though.”

  Cody shook his head. “Won’ be there. Show you now.”

  Neil pulled the ring from his pocket and held them out. Cody tried to separate them and grunted with frustration when his bandaged fingers were too clumsy. Neil grasped his arm. “Deep breath, man. Long, deep breath.” Cody shut his eyes for a moment. Neil spread out the keys as best he could on his palm. “Just point,” he said when Cody opened his eyes.

  Cody stared at the keys for a moment, then stabbed at one with a plastic cover. “Elevator.”

  Another stab at a triangular topped one. “Eassss wing door.” And a third, round, like half a dozen others on the ring. “SSSecurity. Less go, ‘fore the phone ssstops.”

  Shay tried to push them behind her before opening the pharmacy door, some deep protective instinct taking over, but Cody tapped her on the shoulder. “Lemme. I go firsh.”

  Neil wanted to argue but Shay just took a step back and let Cody open the door. The floor outside was smeared with a long, greasy maroon streak. Tattered cloth lay in the sticky mess.

  “Where are they?” whispered Shay.

  The only answer was the ringing phone at the end of the hallway.

  “Hopefully sleeping or gone,” muttered Neil, picking his way carefully toward the clearer side of the floor. A chunk of red lay ahead and he forced his eyes away, willing his brain not to try and make sense of the shape. He didn’t want to know what it was. “Careful Cody, don’t want to slip.” But Cody seemed not to see the slick ribbons of viscera, shuffling directly through a shallow puddle of dark blood. Shay tugged his arm, guiding him into the clear space. He left a thick footprint behind and then a few lighter, broken ones. Neil tried not to look at them.

  They reached a set of heavy white doors.

  “Eass wing,” said Cody, pulling his hand from his mouth for an instant. “Should be quieter. Clossed off for evac’tion.”

  “Then why’s there a group of sick people around the elevator?” asked Shay.

  Cody shrugged.

  “Maybe they got loose from somewhere else,” said Neil, pulling the triangular key out. Plastic cover for the elevator, third round one for the security office. Or shit— was it the 4th? He shook his head and clicked the key into place. “There were a lot of people loose on my floor. I don’t know if it connects though.”

  Cody shook his head.

  “Maybe when everyone fled the conference room,” said Shay. “Maybe some of them tried to reach the security room. They thought they’d be safe there or just that there’d be help there. The hospital director had a key. And the policemen.”

  “Well,” said Neil, peering through the small windows at the top of the door. “Let’s hope Cody’s right. Might not be none, but less crazy people’s a start, right?”

  The hall beyond the door was dark. He took a breath and opened the door, letting Cody slide through first. The light flickered on as Neil came through.

  “No!” he hissed to Cody, “shut them off! If they respond to sound, they might come running for light, too.”

  Cody hesitated but flipped the switch off again.

  “We’re not going to be able to see them, Neil,” said Shay behind him. “The windows are all boarded, at least on this floor. What if we trip over one sleeping in the hallway? Besides, better to test your theory now when we can run back through the door and lock it than somewhere deeper in without some kind of exit.”

  “Guess that makes sense,” Neil sighed. The lights came on again.

  The floor was clean, the bright rubber tile almost a shock after the greasy rust-colored stains that had covered the previous hallway. The polished floor squeaked softly under his feet. The metallic smell of drying blood was gone, replaced by a thin astringent scent. It should have been a relief. Nothing to avoid or force himself to look away from. It should have been normal. Instead, it made Neil nervous. The contrast began eating into his mind. It took several minutes to realize the hospital music and announcements were off. That’s why it’s so creepy, he thought, just got used to it never being silent the past few days. At least, that’s what he was going to tell himself was wrong. He tried to ignore the idea that the infected were somehow waiting to ambush them, hiding, biding their time. They don’t work like that, he reminded himself, but couldn’t truly shake the idea. Cody shambled along the other side of the corridor, brushing against the wall as if he were relying on it to guide him. And Shay was a few steps behind them. So there was no reason for Neil to stumble. It felt like he put his foot down wrong. As if he had fallen into a gopher hole, that his brain had miscalculated the distance his foot needed to travel. But the floor was smooth. Clean. Dry. However it happened, he found himself buckling and went sprawling and tried to brace himself as he did. He curled immediately into himself and groaned. Shay’s hand clapped over his mouth and he abruptly cut off the sound, fear overtaking pain for a moment.

  “Keep watch!” Shay whispered at Cody. Neil gripped his hand. The wound throbbed and it took Neil a few seconds to convince himself not to pass out. Shay lifted him up into a seat. When he could f
inally focus on something outside of the injury, he could see her keep glancing toward the end of the hall uneasily. But when he looked, there was no one there, Just Cody standing still at the junction.

  “Get up,” she told him, “You can do it. Gotta get up now.” She hooked her arm around his back and tried to lift him, wincing at the pull on her own injuries. He tried not to lean on her.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Yet. We need to move. Need to get some more help before you both crack,” she muttered, freeing herself as soon as she realized he wasn’t about to tip over.

  “Both crack? I just tripped, Shay. That’s all. It’s been a rough couple of days. I’ve lost a lot of blood. I think I’m just more exhausted than I realized.”

  “Tripped on what?” She held up her hand and shook her head. “Nope, never mind. You know what? You’re right. We’re all just scared and tired and hurt. Come on, let’s get this over with so somebody else can do the running around for a few hours, okay?”

  She hurried toward Cody. Neil followed but glanced back at the hallway floor. She’d been right, there was nothing there to trip on. And it hadn’t felt like a tired stumble. He was used to those. Couple double shifts and it’d usually happen. His legs would just give up, twist an ankle or be too loose in the knees and he’d catch himself on the prep counter or the freezer door. He’d know it was time to go home for a while. This wasn’t like that. His legs weren’t achy. His back wasn’t spasming. This was more like his foot hadn’t heard the directions right. Like he’d been expecting a different movement. Don’t be stupid, he told himself, Cody didn’t start stumbling for hours after he was slurring. It’s not that. But the image of Evan tripping in the street before the parade kept returning. Think about it later. If it gets worse. Need to get this done so we can get out of here. He jogged to catch up with the others.

  28

  Whatever happened after they escaped the hospital, Neil knew he would never stop hating the sound of a desk phone ring. Harlain’s ploy worked. For a while. Or— maybe it didn’t. Neil couldn’t be sure if the hallways were simply clear because there were no infected around or if they were clear because Harlain was leading them away with a ringing phone. It has to be stressful, ping-ponging between the security video feeds to some kind of map and a phone list. No way she’d be doing it if there were no one here, Neil reasoned.

  They were close to the elevators now, but the sound of the phone was nearer too. Shay peered around the corner wall of some administrator’s office toward their destination and then swung back, shaking her head. “It’s not working,” she whispered. “There’s still a good half-dozen of them just— just standing there. Like they’re half asleep or something.”

  “Wish she’d shut offa phone then,” muttered Cody.

  “I think she’s doing it as much to warn us as she is to draw them away,” said Neil. “But now we have to figure out how to get by them.”

  “Know ‘ow. You jus’ gotta be ready.”

  “No, we’ll find some other way.” Neil crept past Shay to look for himself. There were several shadows milling around the large lobby where the elevators sat, but he couldn’t see any details. Maybe they aren’t sick. Maybe they’re just in shock. Something insane in him wanted to run up to them, wanted to call out. But they’d been there since Neil had left the pharmacy. If they were only in shock, he reasoned, they’d hear the announcement too and join them on the way back down. He pushed aside a slight shimmer of fear at the thought of the way back down. It was too far away. One crisis at a time, he told himself.

  He retreated back around the corner. “Why can’t we take the stairs?”

  “Guess we could, but the door is right next to the elevator. Doesn’t solve the problem,” said Shay.

  “No camerash. Harlain can’t ssee. Sslower. If they chasse,” added Cody.

  Neil thought for a moment. “They’re ignoring the phone. And each other. Maybe they’ll ignore us. If we— if we’re quiet.”

  “They might— might still be… full,” agreed Shay. Neil saw her shoulders jerk as she retched against her hand to keep it as quiet as possible.

  “We could try slipping past. If we’re quiet and slow, maybe it’ll work,” suggested Neil.

  “Or we could be right in the middle of them when they freak out,” said Shay. “We need to distract them and Harlain’s phone trick isn’t working so well.”

  “Building this big, there has to be another set of stairs and an elevator somewhere. Freight elevator or something.”

  “’S pass them,” said Cody. “And there’ss two in th’other wing but even more of em over there. You shaw.”

  Shay shuddered. “Yeah, not doing that staircase again. We were lucky to get out of there the first time, probably drew half your floor, Neil.”

  Neil rubbed his cheek in frustration. “There has to be another way. We’re not just going to throw Cody to them like a piece of steak.”

  “We could— wait,” said Shay. “Maybe they’ll wander away. Or take care of each other. There’s no reason we can’t wait another few hours to do this.”

  “’Es there iss. You have my picture. My girlss?” Cody asked.

  Neil pulled it from his pocket. Cody tried to take it but the bandages made him fumble. Neil caught it again.

  “Hold it up. Wanna ssee em.”

  He stared at the creased photo for a moment under the harsh fluorescent light. Then he pushed Neil’s hand back toward his pocket. “Fin’ ‘em. For me.”

  “No, don’t—”

  “SSTOP arguing!” Cody shouted. “Time!”

  “Shit,” Shay muttered as a ripple of growls rose around the corner. Cody turned and lurched toward the elevator. Neil reached to grab him, to stop him, but the deep gurgle of rage that came from Cody’s throat made Neil freeze. Shay pushed Neil against the wall.

  “Too late,” she whispered.

  Cody’s roar grew and Neil could see the tendons in his neck vibrating. An answering shriek came from around the corner and then a chorus of rasping screams. Cody sprinted forward unevenly and he disappeared around the corner. Neil winced at the sound of a heavy thud and the sound of wet spatter.

  “Go, go, go,” cried Shay, yanking him toward the elevators. They swung around the corner and into full view of the small crowd of infected. Cody grappled with two of them as the others closed in. His teeth dripped blood. His eyes were wide, almost protruding from the sockets and he screamed into the face of an enraged middle-aged woman in a hospital gown.

  “Don’t look,” hissed Shay, tugging insistently. “Keys, keys!”

  Neil groped for the ring of keys in his pocket as they ran. A few of the infected were turning to look at him. He jerked the keys out of the fabric and they jangled wildly. More heads swung around, attracted by the sound. He tried to find the right key but tripped over a foot that lay across their path and went sprawling. The keys spun away into the silver corner of the elevator door. Shay scooped them up, ignoring him. “Which one?” she yelled.

  Neil scrambled up, but he was too slow. Someone’s nails raked over his neck and down his back. He twisted away, but he was caught by a large man behind him.

  “Which one, Neil?”

  “P—plastic top! Green!” He swung a fist, just trying to get free. The man’s face rocked back and he grunted but immediately lunged again, as if the punch hadn’t hurt at all. Neil jabbed again, trying to keep the man’s teeth from snapping shut on his nose. “Help!” he cried.

  A blunt, crushing pain bloomed in the back of his right calf. The elevator dinged somewhere beneath the clamor of grunts and roars. Someone slammed into his side and he toppled. It shook him free and he crawled toward the opening elevator door. Shay grabbed his outstretched arm and dragged him into the elevator car. Neil looked behind him. Cody was in the center of the infected. Neil could see the soiled bandages curled into a rigid claw above the jumble of limbs and frenzied snarls of several faces. It was the only piece of him visible. The door sl
id shut with another ding. He could hear the hollow bangs of fists on the outer metal before the car slid up and away from them.

  29

  Neil’s breathing whooshed through the elevator car, harsh and heavy. His calf ached so fiercely that he was light-headed. His pant leg was whole though, and he hoped the skin beneath was also unbroken. Shay sniffled behind him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. The elevator chimed again and the door slid open on a dim hallway. No lights were on, but the windows were unboarded.

  “Not your fault. Not my fault. Not anyone’s fault.” Her voice was teary. They both stared out at the hallway. The door’s bell dinged again and Neil stuck his arm out to keep it from closing. He hauled himself up, flinching as he tried to put weight on his injured leg. It was bearable but he couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. He limped into the hallway.

  Shay followed him out and plopped against the far wall of the hallway. She covered her face with her hands and started to shake. Neil hobbled to her side, wincing as he slid down next to her. Snow fell past the window at the end of the hall and he stared at it. After a few minutes, he realized he’d lost track of time. Shay’s shuddering was gradually decreasing.

  “Shitty way to die,” he said. “But at least it meant something. I hope.”

  “Shut up, Neil.”

  “Can’t. If we sit here, it’s not going to mean anything. He’ll just have suffered so we could die two floors above him.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “We have to go, Shay. We have to help those other people so what Cody did matters.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It was pointless. This whole thing is pointless. We’re all going to die in here. A floor up or in the stairwell or—”

  “We’re not. We’re leaving. And it’s going to be because of him. We get the trapped patients out and then we take them with us. Tonight.”

  “You can’t even walk straight. And we’re both ragged. We’re going to have to heal up,” said Shay, “before we even try to get out of here. You know that, right?”