Shadow Of Doubt: Z Is For Zombie Book 3

by catt dahman

  “Bingo. Very contagious because the virus is alive and ready to carry its piggy-backer to the next person in urine, vomit, saliva, or semen, I would think, or the prion goes directly to the next person, no way of my knowing.

  The girl you found, she didn’t die of the first bite, but she was contagious and probably, at the very least, was partially crazy and biting. Maybe that was even how it spread to everyone else, false security when her bite was no longer looking as bad.”

  “So with treatment, a person could theoretically cover the wound and seem okay maybe for days later, but if she bites, then it is spread,” Len mused. “Or if she has sex or if a person does not know she is infected, she would act fairly normal.”

  “I expect that young lady was acting…oh…sick…out of her head…deranged but able to remember things at times and speak some; she may not have been so far gone. They would have thought she was getting better. The symptoms they saw didn’t spread, and the bite didn’t get worse,” Doc said.

  “Doc, what if, a person got a small scratch, a tiny spot that no one would notice from one of the infected. Then he had treatment; he would then be able to walk around fine but still be infectious?” Beth was reasoning it out now, not liking where her mind was heading.

  “Now, you see why I am very worried,” Doc said. He excused himself to check on Earl, leaving the other three to look at each other, each with ideas swirling. No one said a thing until Doc returned.

  “I think the cure is worse than the original problem,” Beth said. “In no case, ever should the treatment be used. It could, well, it’s more deadly than anything else since it hides the infection.”

  George leaned back, rubbing his chin. “Ahhh, Beth, now imagine this: somehow Katie is bitten….”

  “Oh no, don’t go there….”

  “Hang on, we have to look at this. Say she is bitten or scratched and with the treatment, you’ll still have her; we love Katie. We would want to save her, and the shots and salve could do that; she would live and be okay maybe, maybe not show any bad signs of rage or anything….” George was Katie’s godfather.

  “She’d be infected though….” Beth suddenly shot to her feet, went into the bathroom, and vomited. The idea made her light-headed and scared. What would she do if faced with a choice? Would she save her daughter or allow her to be shot in the head? What if Beth had to shoot her? What would Beth choose for herself, if given that scenario? Would she take her own life or stand bravely before a gun to her head, or would she try to save herself and hide it? The possibilities were endless.

  She finally washed her hands, splashed water on her face, dried her hands, and went back to sit with the others. Doc had a cup of water for her to sip.

  “I’m sorry, Beth, I should have shut my big mouth….”

  “It’s fine, George. It had to be put into perspective for me. Doc, I don’t know what I would do, honestly. It would be better not to know about the possibility or not have the choice, maybe.”

  Len nodded. “I agree. No matter what, this information goes to the grave with us; it could destroy us all, knowing this or using it.”

  “Then, you support that I burn it all?” Doc asked.

  “Yes, thank, God. You are stronger than I am,” Beth said.

  George agreed, “You made the right call by far. That’s why you’re a doctor: Hippocratic oath: First, do no harm….”

  “I feel a wave of relief,” Len said, “that kind of choice; it’s, well, I’m not religious, but it’s satanic.” He kind of expected laughter or a smart retort, but the other three just nodded silently. “I’m glad you made the choice; it’s not one anyone would want to make. I admire your decision.”

  “I’m not done,” Doc said, “but thank you for the support.”

  “Is it worse than this?”

  “Maybe…could be. Yes, it is,” Doc admitted, “first, do you really think this was the only place using the treatment?”

  Len sighed. “I thought about that: people would use it; the RA might use it; my God, anyone could be a carrier of the infection if he used it. How do we know?”

  “Well, I doubt everyone is as clever and curious as Beth, so I feel the incident rate will be low; that’s the good news. The bad news is that it can happen.

  We are going to have to re-think intakes: checking everyone more closely, and watching for any odd behavior signs. Anyone new who may have had access to the treatment, we will watch; we do an isolation watch now: dementia, anger, rage, drooling, you get the idea?”

  “That’s me half the time,” Len pointed out, getting weak smiles.

  “And it would be bad to kill someone because he was pissed off and stupid when he was just normally that way,” Beth said.

  “Again, that’s me,” Len said.

  “We will have to be very vigilant then so that we don’t kill a healthy person. Ask questions, and Doc can make a list we will follow; we’ll say we have concerns about latent symptoms such as how rabies can hibernate or whatever it does; people will accept that,” George said.

  “Now for my final bad news of the day,” Doc began.

  “You just keep cheering me up more and more, Doc,” Len told him.

  Beth and George noticed that this was one of the few times Len had looked pale, despite his attempt at humor.

  “Tink,” Doc said.

  This flummoxed them fully.

  Tink was one of George’s best friends and a dear friend to every one of the survivors. When Tink was infected, in pain and dying, he still managed to carry a wounded boy down several streets to the hospital where help was.

  Although the boy died from the injuries he received in the car wreck that he and Beth had been in, Tink still, despite the odds, carried him all the way back, in a last act of heroism.

  Mark cried when he saw Tink had turned and was moaning and hungry for human flesh, but I shot him anyway.

  Beth wondered if the treatment might have saved Tink.

  “I would have put him down,” George said, mouth drawn tightly, “Tink wouldn’t have wanted to be like that.”

  “But what if he had the treatment a few seconds before he turned, George?” Doc asked.

  “Then, he wouldn’t have died and been one of those things,” Beth said bitterly, remembering and knowing the man saved her life through all he did that day.

  “Did he go from the Tink you all loved to being one of the monsters in a few seconds? In his mind?”

  Len cocked his head, “No, he went through…what stages of changing? They show the symptoms: forgetting things, going numb and not being able to feel pain, getting angry, then comes the drooling, the rage, the attacks. Wait.” Something nagged at him.Len was suddenly horrified, “So he would be frozen at that stage?”

  “My fears exactly. I’m wondering if some might have the bad symptoms and also some memory or skill functions.”

  “One of the military men at the National Guard Station batted at his sidearm, ” Beth said. “He was pretty far gone, but it bothered me at the time since I’ve never seen one who seemed to be aware of anything else but eating.”

  “Maybe he was treated there.”

  “One could theoretically lead a group to attack, go back to a place, figure things out, and use weapons if they weren’t too far gone,” Len said, “that’s not good.”

  “But it explains why they flock; maybe one leads the horde to a place; maybe another one leads the horde to come after us at the hospital. Isn’t it bad enough that some idiot made this plague, but then others had to screw with things they didn’t understand and make it worse?

  Humans are really too freaking stupid to survive; this is evolution getting rid of the dumbest species to ever live,” said Beth as she talked through this.

  “Makes you wonder,” Doc agreed, “but that’s my pissing on your happy parade of the news earlier, sorry, but I had to tell you all.”

  “Okay, well, we keep this shut up, and we can think about it and talk later, but, Doc, you did the right thing ge
tting rid of that shit,” Len told him,“let’s head out and start doing something that makes some sense.”

  “You coming, Beth?”

  “Yeh, I wanna ask Doc about vitamins and how long they’ll be good; I’ll be along in a sec.”

  She waited until the door closed and then sighed, looking at the doctor.

  “You sure look mighty concerned over the shelf life of vitamins.” Doc pointed out. He patted her knee and sat with her, hoping she would tell him what else was bothering her. “Is it about Katie or Kim? Hannah?”

  “It’s me, Doc. I’m pregnant.”

  16

  Another Day

  Charlie team rode patrol. Beth felt her section was doing well: Both Katie, who was along for the day, and Hannah rode well, and John and Carl had taken to riding quickly; only Jet struggled, complaining about being too high off the ground. “Wait until later, and you will curse me for your legs and butt aching,” Beth said. “Okay, let’s see clockwise and counterclockwise circles, long and then tight.”

  She was teaching them to ride while holding a rifle at the ready, but so far, guns were dropped, or they frantically reached for the saddle horn if they wobbled. It would take long hours of practice. The girls had a lower center of gravity, and that was paying off.

  Carl scrambled off of the ground after leaning to the wrong side and slipping off. He dusted himself off and was okay. She noted that at least he mounted on the correct side.

  Juan was close by with the other three, Trip doing fine, but Teeg and Pak almost in a panic over learning to ride horseback. “Black folks don’t ride horses,” Teeg complained with a big grin.

  “They do, too.”

  “Name three who do.”

  “Jeremiah Jackson, Ice-Dog Williams, Jive Man Jones.”

  Teeg laughed, “You made that shit up, Juan; that is so stereotypical, those names. Ice Dog?”

  “It’s stereotypical to say your skin color keeps you from riding a horse,” Juan said back, “that was just wrong on so many levels.”

  “Beth, Juan is picking on me,” Teeg called, malicious delight in his eyes.

  “Beth, he started it,” Juan called.

  “Next complaint gets an extra hour in the saddle,” Beth said in exasperation, winking at Juan. “Teeg, stop being a stereotype. Juan, stop encouraging his whining. You can all have an extra hour in the saddle.”

  “Oh, man, I so got cheated on that. And I don’t whine,” Teeg said, but he good-naturedly mimicked Juan’s posture and made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t complain. Snickering, Pak fell in beside him, glad he hadn’t been the one to complain to Beth.

  The guard shack, more like a small house, was added on to and changed so that it opened up the second the gate locked. It was outfitted with items to make it perfect with several holding rooms for those who came in and needed to be isolated for observation as per the new orders from George and Len.

  Julia, Conner, and Thurman received Len’s new orders and understood them at once, guessing there was a good reason for added security in intake. Walt and his two sons, Lance and Matt, picked up on the formalities and tightness, thought it was smart, and enjoyed the job when people came in.

  When no one was there for intake, it was all about hard work, building on the latest project, which was fine since they didn’t shirk hard work.

  Pedro and Manny were the other two on the team, and Julia explained everything in English and Mexican, so they were sure to understand every detail. They were bright and seemed to take the job the most seriously and worked the hardest of all. They kept everyone laughing, and Julia appreciated the positive atmosphere. She drilled them about the new intake over and over until she was satisfied.

  Pan’s Bravo team had night watch all week, which they hated because it kept them out of the exciting action of patrol and supply runs, but for the next three weeks, they would do other work.

  Pan didn’t let them off easy, and while training his own new people to follow the guidelines Len set, they spent hours teaching the children the same basic drills: to watch, to protect, and to fight back.

  Training children how to kill zombies was difficult but could become necessary under the worst of circumstances. Most skills were about how to trip the zeds and disable them so they could run away. This was a set of skills that everyone hoped that the children would never need to use.

  Len waved and tapped the horn as his team left with two eighteen- wheelers and two SUVs since they were volunteers for this mission.

  Beth gave him a list of what they wanted: shelving and containers, water heater tanks for better showers, paint and paint supplies, garden supplies, grills with charcoal, propane tanks, cleaning supplies, fire extinguishers, security gates, regular doors, tools, fencing, and mailboxes.

  Len looked at Beth as if she were insane when he saw that mailboxes were on his list, but she said the teachers and children had a plan to set them up and use them for good old-fashioned letters and notices, along with a community bulletin board.

  “I hope they all listened to the rules,” Len grumbled.

  “The civies?”

  “Yeh.”

  “I think they listened, and they know dangerous places are out there,” Nick told him. “They may not understand how one tiny mistake can cause a deadly situation, but they understand about being careful. The rules make them appreciate the teams more.”

  “Glad you joined us.”

  “I served just like my brother did even though he told me this was coming; I hope they execute him.I hope he didn’t punch the red button and drop the bombs,” Nick said.

  “Executed, you think some wanted the presidency that much? I mean, it was a dead-end job so to speak with zeds walking around.”

  “I think if he hadn’t drop the bombs, they would have taken his job and done it instead. No matter what, they dropped them as if we didn’t have enough chaos.”

  Len nodded, “I don’t get the bombs. Why?”

  “ President Alan said the think tank in Washington was concerned with killing the Zs in the bigger cities and hitting Germany because of Henry Diamond. Even if he designed the infection, we don’t know for sure he did. We don’t know the results in Germany, but someone was going to pay, if you know what I mean.”

  “I get it. I don’t get hitting zeds with bombs unless you destroy their brains. I mean that part was in all the movies as well; the brain is the key. Why did they wanna drop bombs?”

  “I suppose the bombs killed quite a few Zs. They burned them up or broke their heads. A lot died, not as many as the idiots thought, but the bombs killed many survivors of the Zs as well; it was a clusterfuck idea,” Nick said.

  “I didn’t vote for your brother, but I’m sure he or anyone in his place would have tried to do the right thing; we just didn’t know what to do with a bunch of zombies,” Len said.

  The parking lot was clear of the dead, and Len wondered if they were flocking again, but there was no way to know if they were or even where they were, without looking all over. Nick shrugged, “Clear, but it makes you wonder where they are.”

  A moan and a garbled sound greeted them as they entered the store. A woman in a dress and a bandaged arm hissed and came after them fast, but Len took the shot, asking everyone on his team to move through the store and carefully clear it.

  “That means look inside of displays and around everything in case they’re hidden.” Len looked at the dead woman and wondered: her bandage was covered in bright red splotches of blood and yellow pus, but she was clutching packages of spearmint gum.

  In minutes, the team scoured the store, guns swinging as they searched, eyes darting all over, boots being as quiet as a whisper as they moved. In the far corner of the huge store close to the bathrooms, a man spoke and was answered; the team listened, traded quick signals, and ran that direction.

  “Raiders, that’s the RA. Damnit to hell, that’s the RA,” a man said as they turned the corner.

  A bullet slammed into a bathtub displa
y beside Len’s head, cracking plastic into shards, sending them everywhere. With curses, he and the others dove for cover.

  “Hold your shootin’,” Charles yelled.

  “We are the US Militia and are carrying M-16s,” Len yelled, “identify yourselves immediately. You are out-manned and outgunned.” He whispered to Alex, “Circle around us, and make sure we don’t have anyone coming up behind us.”

  “Got it.”

  “If you are the RA, then we can fight it out right here; we’re not giving up.”

  “I said we are US Militia, what is left of the United States of America’s military service. Now identify yourselves, or we’ll smoke your ass.”

  “Civilians. Survivors. We don’t want any problems.”

  “Again, you are outmanned and way outgunned; we are in control of this situation and don’t wish to harm civilians, but we need your cooperation. How many of you are here?”

  “Six.”

  “Seven. Mary is up front where we heard the shot,” another voice said.

  “Your seventh attacked us and was subdued,” Len said.

  “We have six now, then.Are you sure you’re with that other group? Not the RA?”

  “We are US Militia and not with the others; in fact, they made slaves of some of my friends who haven’t returned yet. We’re here to get supplies; we can do that and go, or we can talk about if you want to join us.”

  “Look at my hands,” Len said as he set his gun down and walked out. “We have cover, and you don’t. We could take you out if we wanted. We are not with the RA,” he said.

  Rev frowned at Len taking such a chance, but Len whispered, “They’re scared to death of the RA and are scared that’s who we are: the RA; they’re just afraid of us.”

  “I think he’s being honest; he doesn’t have on their uniform,” a teen boy said.

  “The man and teen set their guns down. “We said we would go down dead before we’d fall into the RA’s hands.”

  “I can respect that,” Rev said as he came out, “we heard they’re some bad characters.”

  “They’re cannibals and torturers and slavers,” the man said, “it would be better to be dead or a zombie than one of their victims; man’s inhumanity is amazingly cruel and imaginative.”