Before The Cure (Book 1): Before The Cure

by Gould, Deirdre

  “I get it. But if we survive this, whether or not Dante does, I know I’ll ssleep better knowing it wasn’t me that killed him.”

  They watched Dante finally flop to the floor. He sat, dazed and staring at the fading light from the windows down the hallway for several minutes. Neil thought he looked a lot like Tommy.

  “Come on,” said Shay, tapping his shoulder. “We should go shut off the cameras. It’s going to take him a little longer to fall asleep, I’d guess, we’ve got time.”

  “Why would we do that?”

  “Because Harlain’s gone quiet, but that doesn’t mean nobody’s watching. It’s Cody’s phone all over again. We have to get out of here. To do that, we’ve got to set up some kind of distraction and we need to make sure they don’t know what’s coming beforehand.”

  33

  Shay frowned as they clicked off the last camera.

  “What is it?” asked Neil.

  “Kind of hoped the phone would start ringing as soon as we started turning these off. I really wanted to be wrong about Harlain and whoever’s in charge out there now. I can’t imagine they’re too happy with being blinded.” She ducked below the security desk, crawling into the leg space. “Maybe they’re still broadcasting. Maybe we just turned it off on our end.”

  “You know about how thish stuff works?” asked Neil.

  “Not a thing. You?” She started yanking on cords.

  “Nope. You could jus’ be unplugging thish console you know.”

  “I know,” she grunted, twisting in the cramped space to follow another cord. “But I don’t have any other ideas. Just wish we knew one way or another, so we could be ready.”

  “Wouldn’ change anything. We’ve got one way out of here— if we’re lucky.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m still willing to try, even if the cameras are still on, but I don’t know if the others would be. Don’t know anything about any of them yet, except Maisy. And I’m not sure we’ll ever convince her not to just stay put.”

  “So we tell them what we know. I didn’t see any kidss on those screens, thank God. Let ‘em decide for themselves.” He reached down to help her up.

  “Are you— are you ready to go?” she asked him.

  “If he’s asleep.”

  Shay picked up the thick vest lying nearby and slid it on, wincing as the fabric rubbed past a bite mark on her left arm. “Still think we should take the pepper spray.”

  “You said you didn’ think they felt pain. Or that if they did, it wasn’t sslowing them down. Pepper spray’s not going to work. Or thesse, honestly.” He gripped the end of the baton on his belt anyway.

  “Yeah, well, everything else is locked up tight. Tried every damn key on Cody’s ring but none of them fit. Until we find a security guard, we’re not likely to get into those cabinets.”

  “I’m not complaining. Our bess bet is running anyway,” he said.

  “I’m about out of steam, Neil. Don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to run without a real rest. And some solid food.”

  They walked out to the front of the security office. It was no longer dusk, the wing was fully dark and Neil could barely make out the slumped shape of Dante outside the doors.

  “Flashlights or risk the overhead lights?” asked Shay.

  “Overhead lights. Might wake some of them up, but I’d rather ssee what’s coming at us.”

  Shay flipped the lights on in the security office. The hallway was still dark, but some light spilled into the area just outside the glass windows. Dante was asleep on his side, his knees curled into his belly, one hand stuck in his mouth. If there hadn’t been so much blood staining the hospital johnny, Neil might have thought he looked peaceful. Familiar. Dante after a few too many beers. Or that night before his wedding. Or the morning after Tommy was born, asleep in the hospital chair beside his wife. His other hand lay in front of him, fingers so chewed they looked like raw hamburger.

  “I can’t leave him like this.”

  “You changed your mind?” asked Shay.

  “No, I mean— his hands. That has to hurt. Maybe iss not preventing him from injuring himself more, but I have to think it hurts. I can’t jus’ see that and do nothing.”

  “He’s not going to sit still and let you patch him up. He’s not where Cody was. We have to go before he wakes up. Or else we’re going to have to hurt him ourselves to get away.” She waited but Neil was uncertain what to say. “I’m going to open the door now,” she said. “And then I’m going to walk as quietly as I can to the stairwell. I hope you’re behind me, but I’m not going to look. Or stop. Understand?”

  “I unnerstand,” said Neil, trying not to stare at his friend. Hang on, Dante. Just hang on until I can find help, he willed even while he knew it was impossible. The door clicked as it opened. Some sensor no doubt. He could see Shay visibly freeze at the slight sound. But Dante didn’t stir. She stepped out and turned left. Her body was rigid. Neil thought his probably was as well. He followed her, fighting the urge to glance back at his friend. Their footsteps echoed and Shay sped up. It’s not so far, Neil told himself, even as he struggled to keep his breath smooth, terrified the sound of it would wake Dante. Or anyone else they’d missed. A few dozen more feet. The glow of the street lamps in the parking lot was visible through the window at the end of the hall. He wished he could stop to look. Except for watching a few seconds of snowfall, he hadn’t had a real glimpse of the world outside since he escaped his room. Even the courtyard had been blocked. Did anyone care that there were people alive here? Was Shay right? Did they even know? The urge to run to the window was a weird impulse and he quickly shoved it aside.

  A phone rang behind them and Neil felt an electric spike of fear in every joint. Shay glanced back as the phone rang again. She grabbed his arm and wrenched him forward. He could hear rustling behind them and a low, vibrating growl that bounced off the narrow walls of the corridor. Another ring from the phone. Neil hoped it was in the security office. Shay started running, her grip a bony claw around his wrist. The stairwell door slammed open and they were already halfway to the next landing before she loosened her hand, mostly because he was tumbling down steps and dragging her with him.

  They careened into the cinder block wall. Neil couldn’t catch himself and ended up on his back at the bottom of the flight. He’d banged his right arm several times on the way down and it was a throbbing flare. Shay tried to haul him onto his feet. She said something to him, glancing back up the stairs, but he couldn’t hear her. All he could concentrate on was the lack of his own breath and the ache of his arm. She shoved at him, trying to force him to move and he crawled toward the next set of steps, trying to suck in air that didn’t seem to be there. Everything hurt and his heartbeat sounded like the whoosh of a helicopter blade in his head. He gasped and finally managed a great gulp of air. He slid down the remaining steps. Shay swung the door to the second floor open too wide in her panic and it hit the wall with a bang. Neil dragged himself up as she darted into the second-floor corridor. Rapid footsteps echoed on the stairs below and he slid in through the crack before the door swung shut again. Shay shoved him against the hallway wall and clapped a hand over his mouth. Something thudded nearby and she flinched.

  The pounding footsteps in the stairwell got louder and then stopped abruptly. Neil could hear the rasp of his breath against Shay’s palm. He strained to hear anything else. The phone upstairs, Dante’s growl, movement outside the door, but everything was silent. His right arm crackled with pain, as if he’d had a sudden severe shock from an electrical socket. He wanted to hold it tight with his other hand, maybe it would stop the crunching misery for a second. But he didn’t dare move even that much. The window to the stairwell beside him darkened. Neil could see the change in the light from the corner of his eye, but couldn’t risk turning his head to see what had caused it. You know what it is, he reminded himself. Infected person. Don’t need to look. He shut his eyes. His breath was humid against his chin and Shay’s ha
nd was damp. She didn’t pull it away, though he knew it must be uncomfortable. And there was no way she could think he’d make a noise now. It seemed an eternity that they stood like that, in the dark hall of the second floor, backs pressed against the cool wall, concentrating on the way his breath wouldn’t slow down and the jagged thumping pain that ran from his wrist to his jaw. Then the bang of footsteps running again, this time up and away until they faded into stillness again. Neil hoped they hadn’t run into Dante. Shay pulled her hand away from his mouth. “Shorry,” he whispered, “I thought we got them all, except around the elevator downstairs.”

  “We knew we’d lose some on the stairs,” she whispered back, “I just thought we’d have time to look before running down them. Of course, I expected Harlain to call sooner.”

  “You think it wass her?”

  “Who else? Come on, we don’t want them coming back. We’ll have to cross to the other wing and use those stairs instead. And hope.”

  Another burst of agony washed over Neil and he immediately grabbed his arm. It was a mistake. The pain intensified so much, that he thought he might lose consciousness and let go to brace himself.

  “Shit,” said Shay, noticing. “What is it? Where?”

  “Think I broke my arm, falling down the stairs,” he said, once he was certain he wasn’t going to faint and topple to the floor. “I’ll be okay,” he told her. “Don’t leave me behind. Or— or shove an extinguisher in my mouth.”

  Shay looked distinctly troubled. “I didn’t leave you back there, did I? Broken arm’s not going to be the last straw. We need to get you back to the cafe. That nurse can help. Maybe there’s a doctor in there too. At least get something for the pain. Debbie had a whole bunch of stuff in those bags.”

  She wrapped an arm around his waist as if it were his leg that was broken instead of his arm. Neil didn’t stop her. Right then, he badly needed a friend. Just someone to walk with him through the near-empty hospital until they were out of this.

  “Wait,” he told her as she pulled him away from the stairwell. “I want to see ousside.”

  “Why? We need to go, Neil.”

  “I know, I know, but we should know how the perimeter is covered. Maybe they’ve moved people or maybe there’s more of them now. If we’re going to get out of here, we at least should have an idea of what we’re walking into.”

  It really was stupid. He needed some relief. They both needed to eat. They needed sleep and safety and other people. But he was convinced if they could see where the soldiers were, they’d be able to find a hole. “Be easier to ssee now, anyway,” he told her, “They have to have it all lit up. During the day, it’d jus’ blend in. I’d miss patrol spots or something.”

  The snow was the first thing he noticed. Four or five inches blanketing the parking lot, piling on the top of the large military trucks at the edge.

  “You’d think they’d plow it,” said Shay.

  “Why? The hospital’s empty.”

  “Yeah, but they’ve still got their trucks to move around. I mean, I know some of them would be fine but you’d think if they needed to get more in quickly or there was a fire or something— and look, they must have closed the road off partially too. Why isn’t that plowed at least?” She pointed to a smooth ribbon of road that glowed a soft gold in the circles of street lamps. Not only was the road covered, but there were also no banks on either side to show it had at least been plowed a few times recently. It was flat, the way a trail in the woods would be after snow. Lost and forgotten.

  “Maybe the storm jus’ passed,” said Neil.

  Shay shook her head. “There’d be snow on the tree branches. They’re all bare. This snow is hours old. Maybe days.”

  “I was making a ssign when that policeman ran into my room. On a sheet. There were people, lots of people on the edge of the parking lot then. I thought if they saw, they might help. That maybe they didn’t know we were sstill in here.”

  “The public’s probably been told we were all evacuated or something. They might have cleared the area and shut down the road to keep anyone from seeing anything through the windows. You can’t be the only one who thought of trying it.”

  “Maybe you were— maybe there’s ssomething to what you ssuspected, but that still doesn’ explain why it’s sso— motionless. Where are the soldiers? How come there’sh no footprints anywhere? If they wanna keep ush in, why aren’ they watching?”

  “On the other side, maybe? Up until a few minutes ago, they had eyes on everyone— or almost everyone in here. Why waste men patrolling when they can just wait until they pick us up on camera close to an exit? Bet they’re flipping out now. That was definitely Harlain on the phone. Or whoever’s in her spot now. She’s probably trying the cafe.”

  “Seems kind of shloppy not to have people there just in case of something like this.”

  “Has anything about this past week seemed well organized to you, Neil? Because it seems to me that ‘sloppy’ has summed up the entire thing, start to finish. Hospitals aren’t supposed to work like this. Not even with a crazy disease. We get people with contagious diseases here all the time. Our staff knows how to handle it. We get homicidal people in here pretty often, too. And people in the middle of breakdowns or not thinking very clearly. The hospital stays open, fully staffed. People don’t get trapped inside it. Patients aren’t allowed to tear each other apart while someone outside watches on CCTV. Something’s wrong. Out there. Way worse than what’s going on in here. They aren’t telling us something. Anything. Maybe they made it. The military, I mean. Maybe this disease was supposed to be some kind of weapon. Or maybe it’s something that some terrorist got a hold of and they thought we were the only ones exposed—”

  Neil shook his head. “Then it’s a shloppy cover up too. There are dozenss of people in here. We have families and coworkers and friendss. You think the people who care about ush won’t come looking for answers? Even if we don’t make it out of here, they’re going to start asking. Maybe you’re right. Maybe ssomething’s gone wrong. Maybe a misstake. That would make ssense. I think thish is pure panic. SStupid and sscared’s way more fatal than most evil is.”

  Shay patted his back where her arm sat. “Come on. There’s no reason to look anymore. This side is clear. When we come out of the maintenance tunnels, we’ll swing right toward this lot and hopefully be long gone by the time anyone notices. If we want to survive this, we just have to be smarter and less scared than they are. Let’s get to the cafe. Fix our wounds. Talk with the people who are there now. Eat. Plan. We’re not getting out of here by staring out a window.”

  34

  The cafe’s plate-glass windows had been barricaded with several tables turned on their sides and the couches from the hospital lobby. The lights were on and there were two people standing just outside the door. They both had fire axes ready as Neil and Shay approached.

  “Concentrate on your feet. Don’t trip, whatever you do,” murmured Shay to him. “And let me do the talking for now.”

  “What? Why on earth—”

  “You’re exhausted and in pain. I don’t want them to think you’re sick just because you’re clumsy or you take too long to answer a question.”

  “You’re tired and in pain too.”

  “Don’t have a broken arm,” she said. “Just— let me do this, okay?”

  “Okay.” Neil thought it was a little clingy, the way she insisted, the way she slowed her pace to his. He hadn’t stumbled since— well, there was the staircase. And once in the second-floor hallway. Maybe he was more tired than he thought. But taking too long? He’d been normal, hadn’t he? Had he stared out the window too long? Was it when they were guiding people to the cafe? When had he taken too long?

  “You awake?” asked one of the people outside the door when they were still halfway across the lobby. The man’s grip tightened around the red handle of the ax.

  “We’re healthy,” said Shay.

  “You don’t look so healthy. What about
your friend here?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Oh yeah? Why doesn’t he say so?”

  “Because I’m not. Beat to shit,” spat Neil. “Ssaving your ass. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  The woman’s face lit up. “It was you, you two were the ones in the security office?”

  The man beside her nudged her with his elbow. “He slurred, Bessie.”

  “He didn’t. Relax,” the woman told him.

  “He did, I heard it. We should make him do the test.”

  “He’s just tired. Me too. And we’re in pain and hungry. Let us get some rest and you’ll see.”

  “Sorry, lady, Toby says we can’t risk the conference room happening again. Even for you two.”

  “This is ridiculous! None of you would even be down here if—”

  “Whass the test?” asked Neil, mostly to calm Shay down. He realized he hadn’t said it as clearly as he meant to and a wave of horror washed over him.

  “It’s a coordination test. And there’s a little bit of a physical, too. The sick ones bite themselves. Gotta check you for bite marks.”

  Shay burst into a laugh. “Man, we’re covered in bite marks. How are you going to tell if we bit ourselves or someone else got us? Because that’s what happened. You don’t think we looked like this on the way up the stairs to help you guys, do you?”

  “Well, I— I guess you were probably in better shape a few hours ago,” admitted the man.

  “Let ‘em in, Gary. Neither of them is stumbling or staring into space,” said Bessie.

  “But Toby was very clear—”

  “Look, we’re not infected, ok?” Shay’s voice had a panicked edge to it. Neil’s stomach felt too tight at the sound of it. “We’re just exhausted. He’s sleepy is a—”

  “Less jus’ take it, Shay. We’ll jus’ take this test. We both know we aren’t sick, so less take it, show ‘em,” he said, half to stop her voice from spiraling higher into that dreadful fear note and half because he suddenly wasn’t so certain.