by Perrin Briar
Hamish had to admit, it was at least possible. Who was to say what anyone was capable of given certain extreme circumstances? People were only as reliable as their options.
“The good news is he only had a limited amount of time to make his plans,” Hamish said. “It might be all we need to figure this out.”
Hamish could imagine the old man now, preparing to dispose of the virus, looking into the mirror at himself. The thoughts that must have gone through his mind…
“However he did it – if he did it – he would have known a virus dies within twenty-four hours outside the body, unless its frozen or contained in some other way,” Hamish said. “If you were going to try to ensure a virus spread from this place, how would you do it? The one thing we have in our favor is he had less than eight hours between when he was infected and when he had to instigate his plan. He wouldn’t have had time to come up with anything complicated. But how was he going to infect us all from beyond the grave? And why would he want to infect us all? It doesn’t make sense. Everyone here describes him as a father figure. There’s no reason to suppose he didn’t feel the same way toward the rest of you.”
Kate nodded, her eyes drifting to the floor.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “It was just an idea.”
Kate left, and Daniel entered.
“Where do you want me, Doc?” he said.
“Just on the chair there,” Hamish said as he prepared another needle.
“Any idea who’s infected yet?” Daniel said.
“Not yet,” Hamish said.
“Everyone’s very nervous,” Daniel said.
“They’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” Hamish said. “Not until we get everyone’s results.”
“Who’s going to do your results?” Daniel said.
“I am,” Hamish said.
Daniel extended his arm. Hamish swabbed Daniel’s main artery with alcohol and inserted the needle. He drew Daniel’s blood.
“Do you have to take so much?” Daniel said.
“Better to be safe than sorry,” Hamish said.
He handed Daniel a cotton bud to press to the puncture hole, wrote ‘Daniel’ on the label and attached it to the vial. He put the vial in the holder alongside the others.
“How long before you get the results?” Daniel said.
“I’ll get the results now,” Hamish said.
A scream. Down the corridor. Kate skidded, sliding to a stop in front of Hamish’s office door.
“A zombie!” Kate said. “I think it’s Jeff!”
“Get Patrick,” Hamish said. “Tell them to bring blunt weapons. We’ll push him back into his room.”
Kate took off at a run. Hamish turned to Daniel.
“I’m going to need your help,” he said.
“But I’m injured,” Daniel said, showing the cotton bud on his arm.
Hamish handed Daniel a chair leg, and kept one for himself.
“We’re going zombie hunting,” he said.
They entered the corridor, but this time, now that Hamish had someone at his back, he didn’t feel quite so nervous. It was like he’d been transported into a different genre, from horror to adventure, like the Alien and Aliens movies. But the grip around his chair leg belied the angst he felt. He edged down the corridor. He couldn’t believe he was going through this again. He only hoped there was less death this time.
He was to be disappointed.
The groan was low and reverberated loudly. The storm outside seemed to quieten down for them to be able to hear it clearly, to make the situation even more terrifying. The figure wasn’t nearly so hard to find this time. He was standing in the middle of the corridor. How did these guys always manage to escape? They were undead Houdinis.
The figure’s back was to them. It wasn’t going to be hard to shove Jeff back inside his room. Except he’d staggered farther up the corridor, and seemed to be staring at nothing in particular, his jaw working overtime chewing on something akin to cud. The heavy footsteps of Kate and Patrick rushed up behind them, gaining the attention of the figure before them.
Oh, great.
The figure began to turn, slowly, as if his neck had no independent movement. His eyes latched onto Hamish, the slow dawn of realization sweeping over him. There was an all-you-can-eat buffet right in front of him. His dry torn lips peeled back from his missing teeth, sharpened by something that had turned them into short stubby spikes, no doubt due to his effort in gnawing his way out of his prison. Perhaps that had been how he’d escaped… They would have to reinforce the door next time.
“Keep back,” Hamish said. “We’ll drive him back into his own room again.”
They edged backward like they were part of some kind of conga line. The undead leaned forward and picked up the pace, racing faster toward them. Too fast. They weren’t running backward fast enough.
“Faster!” Hamish said. “Quick!”
They turned and ran, but the undead was already upon Hamish. He instinctively raised his weapon. Undead Jeff fell upon it like a rabid dog. There was the crunch of wood as his teeth tore into it, and then another creaking sound as it was torn out of Hamish’s grasp.
The creature tasted it – actually tasted it – and didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with it until it spat it out, letting it fall to the floor in a sloppy chewed mess. It gritted its teeth, ignoring the splinters in its lips and gums, and came at Hamish again.
But Daniel was already moving forward, pushing back against the undead, forcing him into his previous cell. He thrust hard, and the creature stumbled. The bed took out his legs so he fell backward onto the desk.
Hamish slammed the door shut. He could see the bite marks where the monster’s teeth had worried at it. He braced the door with his shoulder, preparing to have to rebuild a part of the door from the monster having chewed through it…
Only it didn’t need rebuilding. The creature had clearly been chewing on it, but not enough for the lock to have come loose. The undead struck the door on the other side, forcing it back an inch before Hamish could close it again.
Kate bent down, picked up the padlock, and handed it to Hamish. He slipped it through the lock and snapped it closed. The undead beat on the door, sending the padlock rising and falling like a rasping tongue.
Hamish brushed aside his sweaty fringe with his sleeve.
“How do these things keep getting out?” Kate said. “They don’t look like they’ve got the brainpower to be able to work the locks loose. And even if they did, they certainly lack the dexterity.”
“Maybe they got lucky,” Carl said.
“Maybe,” Hamish said uncertainly.
“You get back to the blood tests,” Kate said. “We’ll clean up here.”
Bang! Bang bang! Bang!
Something beat against Lindsey’s door. They all stared at it.
“Lindsey?” Kate said.
“Or Ian,” Carl said.
“Or both,” Daniel said.
No one wanted to find out who was right. Hamish walked back down the corridor to his office.
“Now, where was I?” Hamish said, returning to his office.
The vials of blood sat unmoved from their previous position. He remembered where he was. Right where he didn’t want to be.
Z-MINUS: 1 hour 44 minutes
They all sat with their hands in their laps, looking anxiously at Hamish, who held a piece of paper with the results in his hand. He didn’t really need to read it. He already knew the results off by heart. It felt like he was reading the results of an exam to a bunch of students.
“Okay,” Hamish said. “You’re all nervous, so I won’t beat around the bush. One of us is infected.”
“I knew it!” Patrick said. “It’s me, isn’t it? I already packed my bag. I’ll just do a Dr. Scott and get out of here. I’m doomed.”
“It’s not you,” Hamish said. “It’s Carl.”
Carl just sat there a moment, processing the news. His eyelids flickered a
s he thought everything through.
“You’re sure?” he said.
“I am,” Hamish said.
Carl flexed his hands, his feet.
“I feel fine,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Hamish said.
“No,” Carl said. “You’re wrong.”
Hamish turned to the others for their support of what to say next. He’d just told Carl he was infected. But he’d flat out refused to listen? There was hoping for the best and there was being blind to the truth. Hamish had been prepared for every response, save this one.
“Carl,” Hamish said in his best impression of a caring doctor. “You are infected.”
“No, I’m not,” Carl said.
He pressed his glasses up his nose in an open act of defiance.
“Carl…” Kate said.
“Don’t start, Kate,” Carl said. “I feel fine. Better than fine. I feel better now than I have in a long time. So, feel free to chalk this one up to a mistake on Hamish’s part, but I’m not infected.”
He said it with such certainty that Hamish was beginning to doubt himself, that there was nothing wrong with him.
“Check my blood again if you have to, but you’ll find I’m not infected,” Carl said. “You’ll see I’m clean. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“It’ll affect everyone slightly differently,” Hamish said. “You might not start feeling the effects for another few hours.”
“This is bullshit,” Carl said.
He pulled up his sleeve, exposing his arm.
“Take more blood,” he said. “Test me again.”
“I already checked – twice,” Hamish said. “You’re infected.”
“I’m not going to stay in my room,” Carl said. “There’s nothing wrong with me!”
Hamish held up his hands in a defensive pose. Body language communicated seventy percent of all meaning in a conversation.
“I understand you’re scared,” Hamish said. “We all are. But you have to stay in your room until help arrives. If there’s nothing wrong with you, then we’ll take you out.”
Carl looked beseechingly from one person to another, but met wayward glances. He finally settled on Daniel.
“Daniel,” he said. “You believe me, don’t you? I’m not infected.”
Daniel scuffed one shoe against the other. Carl shrugged.
“All right,” he said. “Fine. I’ll go. But you’re all going to feel like fools when this is over.”
“I’m sure it’ll turn out to be nothing,” Daniel said. “You’ll see.”
“I refuse to turn into one of those things,” Carl said. “If I’m going to die, then it’ll be on my terms.”
“What are you going to do?” Kate said.
Carl turned to look out the snow-encrusted window.
“It was good enough for Dr. Scott,” Carl said. “It’ll be good enough for me.”
Z-MINUS: 1 hour 34 minutes
“You shouldn’t throw your life away like this, Carl,” Kate said. “They’ll come up with a cure.”
“Will they?” Carl said. “I never heard of anyone curing death before. And between heading out into the night, and getting beaten over the head with a broken-off chair leg, I know what I prefer.”
Kate frowned. She clearly hadn’t considered the idea someone somewhere wouldn’t come up with a cure for the virus.
“I don’t want to be something you all have to be scared of, to be wandering around and bumping into the walls and windows until someone finally puts me out of my misery,” Carl said. “I deserve to die in a manner more becoming of my station. It was nice knowing you all. It was a pleasure working with you.”
Carl shook hands with Hamish and Patrick. He hugged Kate and Daniel. They slapped one another on the back.
“Put this on,” Daniel said to Carl, proffering his favorite jacket. “It’ll be a little chilly out there.”
“What’re you trying to do?” Carl said. “Prolong my suffering?”
Daniel grinned and was about to take his jacket back when Carl took it from him.
“Fine, I’ll wear it,” Carl said. “It’ll be doing the jacket a favor for someone of style and class to wear it for once.”
Carl grinned, but there was no concealing his fear and apprehension. He turned to face the door and the raging storm outside. He nodded to Hamish, who released the locks. The storm flailed at them with its long white tendrils. The cold was biting and hard. No man could last long in its clutches.
“You don’t have to do this,” Kate said.
“No,” Carl said. “I do.”
“Thank you for everything, Carl,” Patrick said. “You’re a wonderful person.”
The others looked pained and sorry to see Carl go, but there was a general feeling of unease, like people afraid of AIDS when it first exploded onto the global scene. People didn’t know how to respond to an infected person.
Carl stepped outside and immediately stumbled, the wind strong and swift. He caught himself, stood upright, and walked into the thick white cloud. He was lost to the howling winds and freezing snowdrifts. Carl was a part of the storm now.
I hope he’ll fight to help protect us, Hamish thought, before closing the door shut.
Z-MINUS: 1 hour 21 minutes
The survivors returned to their watchful vigil. No more undead were roaming the corridors, and each of the survivors were uninfected. All they needed was for the storm to die down, to send out a message, and they would be rescued. They could relax. The nightmare was largely over.
Daniel sat in sullen silence after Carl had wandered off into the storm. He shot murderous glances at Hamish, as if he was the one responsible for Carl’s demise. It was not a look of friendly camaraderie. Their temporary allegiance had been broken. They smiled behind their teeth at each other. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
“How is being a professor of biology?” Daniel said. “I can’t imagine it’s very exciting.”
“About as exciting as swimming underwater,” Hamish said.
“It’s taken me all over the world,” Daniel said. “I’ve seen incredible things.”
“Me too,” Hamish said.
“Taking over from Dr. Scott, trying to complete his notes and research,” Daniel said. “Must be tough. Big shoes to fill.”
“I’m sure my feet are big enough,” Hamish said.
“I hope so,” Daniel said. “A lot rides on the findings of the late great Dr. Scott.”
They both felt obvious relief when Patrick headed over to join them.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back?” Daniel said.
“Jump in a glistening swimming pool, eat a bunch of crap and find the nearest bar and dirtiest skank I can get my hands on,” Patrick said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Daniel said. “I might join you.”
Hamish’s idea of fun clearly differed somewhat from those of Daniel and Patrick. But there was at least a ray of sunshine at the end of this cold, dark, bleak tunnel.
“I thought you and Kate were a thing,” Hamish said, doing his best to sound nonchalant.
“We are,” Daniel said. “Or, we were.”
“What do you mean?” Hamish said.
Daniel shrugged.
“We haven’t had much action lately,” he said.
Hamish ignored the word ‘much’ and let his heart cling to the possibility it was mostly over between the two of them.
“Since when?” Hamish said.
“About the time of Dr. Scott’s death,” Daniel said. “Since then, she just doesn’t seem that interested in bumping and grinding. It’s strange, because to look at her you wouldn’t think she was in much grief.”
“Some people are good at hiding it,” Patrick said.
“If so, she’s the best,” Daniel said. “I’ve had to resort to a swift one off the wrist.”
“Welcome to my world,” Patrick said.
The conversation drifted into something about te
chnique after that, but Hamish had already switched off his ears.
Was the reason for Kate’s turning cold toward Daniel in fact not only due to her feelings for the dearly departed Dr. Scott? Was it in actual fact more because by that time she would have learned Hamish was coming to replace Dr. Scott in his research? Hamish found himself wanting to believe it to be true. But he knew love could blind a man and he daren’t make a move before he was certain…
Certain.
That had always been his problem before. He always wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to be rejected, make sure Kate was going to feel the same thing for him as he did for her…
But he was never certain. He never let himself be certain, because there was no such thing as certainty. You did your research and preparation, but then you had to just roll the die. You had to take a chance, and that was exactly what he hadn’t done before.
He was still scared, to be sure. He didn’t want her to stop being his friend… Or did he even really care anymore? Could he be happy just being a friend? No. He didn’t want that. He wanted more. And to see her be with someone else, for her to fall in love with someone else and leave Hamish behind… That was the last thing he wanted.
He did not want to see her be happy and in love with someone else – especially if that someone else happened to be Daniel. He wanted her to be happy, but to be happy with him.
Hamish stood up. Sometimes a moment of clarity can change a man’s life, one moment where everything clicks and makes sense. This was his moment, and he was not going to waste it. He decided to act then, act fast, act now, and confess to Kate everything he felt, and had felt for years. He wouldn’t hold back. He would let her know everything.
But what if she-?
He squashed that line of reasoning. She would do what she did, and there was little he could do to change that. But he could control himself, his actions, and the way he felt about her. That was within his power. He could be honest.
“Kate,” he said. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”
“Sure,” Kate said. “What is it?”
The radio hissed, and a voice, like an echo from the past, came through.