The Cured

by Deirdre Gould

  Twenty-three

  It was harder to slip out of the hotel in the morning than it had been to get in unseen the night before. The courtyard seemed to be an impromptu marketplace in the morning. Rickey suggested they simply blend into the crowd, but one look in the locker room mirrors told them all that there could be no blending in. It was obvious that they had been ill, that they were starving. And starving meant they looked desperate. Desperate was dangerous for everyone. The people in the courtyard were thin and their goods few and mostly broken, but they weren’t starving and they were each conspicuously armed. Melissa and Vincent spent the morning peering through a small crack in the doors, watching the crowd. Rickey turned the television back on until Molly forced him to shut it off, terrified the sound would draw others. Pam kept packing and repacking all the gear, scared they would leave some trace behind. Henry was a little relieved that they couldn’t start yet, still struggling with everything that lay ahead. He studied Melissa’s route, trying to see how far they were from the City’s borders. If they didn’t make any more detours for extra supplies, they might make it that evening or sometime tomorrow morning. Henry realized he didn’t like the idea of spending another night outside of the City’s protection. Regardless of what that protection might cost. He sighed and folded the map, trying not to dwell on all the future nights he’d be spending out here looking for Marnie.

  He got up and went to the door, tapping Vincent on the shoulder. He pulled the door open a crack and peered through. The courtyard was full of people, but no one was looking inside. All the activity was going on out there. Someone had made a massive bonfire on the concrete patio. The smoke was blowing their direction, concealing them for a few moments. “Let’s go,” said Henry and slid himself and his bike through the door. He didn’t wait to see if the others followed, just wheeled the bicycle to the exterior door, unlocked it, and rolled out into the midmorning sun. The crackled, weedy parking lot was empty. The market people must have been entering from the front. Henry rode the bike down the back lot and back onto the road toward the old highway. He tried to make himself go slowly, to look like he belonged, just a guy going home from market. He hoped he looked normal from a distance.

  He chanced a glance over his shoulder as he pedaled up the on ramp of the highway. The others spread in a long line behind him. Henry smiled, relieved he wasn’t alone. He turned back to the road. It was immediately clear that this road, unlike the others they’d taken, had been maintained, at least for a while. Mostly tarred, and absent of abandoned vehicles, the highway was a smooth ashy ribbon in the morning light. The wind made a comforting silence in his ears. Henry felt as if he could ride for miles. But they were still weak, underfed and exhausted. They had to stop several times to rest and eat. It stayed warm and quiet. The open air seemed to have lifted their spirits, the marshy green smell of young grass pushing through the mud and the occasional sweet chorus of frogs in nearby ponds and ditches made Henry suddenly realize that he was happy. He wasn’t frenzied or scared, his stomach was full and he had no serious injuries. He was free of the pen and headed for a better life. Even if it were one of constant travel and searching. It was still better.

  He fell back near the others as the sun sank and the tar became a dark, cold river cutting through the trees. They hadn’t had a view yet of the City, the trees had overgrown the median and shoulders, even though someone had cut a few back. But just as the trees were swallowing up the last of the day, the road took a turn and Henry stopped. They were at the top of a long hill and below them the City was just beginning to flicker and pulse with light. It was shocking, after so long in the dark, to see that electric gold spilling everywhere. Henry felt alien and primitive, as if he were witnessing the discovery of fire. He could see the ocean, a great dark emptiness beyond the tiny harbor lights. Around the City was a massive black barrier. The highway led directly to the lone gate in the wall, which was brightly lit, though not very welcoming. Henry wasn’t sure whether it was meant to make him feel safer or more frightened of what lay outside the walls. Or both.

  Henry put one foot back on its pedal and leaned forward to take off. Rickey grabbed the handlebars. “No way. No fucking way. I’m not going down there. Look at it. It’s a prison.” Henry stared at him. Then he shrugged.

  “Okay. Don’t come.”

  Rickey didn’t let go of Henry’s bike. “Come on, we can make a life out here, all of us. We’ll find a farm. Hell, there was enough leftover stuff in that suburb to last until we can figure out the whole garden thing. We don’t need them.” He waved his arm at the City’s barrier. “They don’t want us anyway.”

  Pam wheeled her bike up to them. “My family might be down there. I want to see them again. And I’m tired of being scared and hungry and cold all the time. If seeing my kids means I have to live by a few rules, work a little harder, that’s okay. Sorry, Rickey.” She got on her bike and started rolling down the hill.

  Rickey turned to look at the rest of them. “Well, what about it? We’ve got no one waiting for us down there. We can make a good life out here.”

  Molly shook her head. “Maybe you’re right Rickey, maybe we could be okay for a while. But someone’s going to get sick or hurt eventually. Or raiders are going to come along and take everything. Or the City’s soldiers will. I’m not as naïve as you think, but I’d still rather be on their side than against them. I don’t want to die because I poked myself with a rusty can opener or because we’re trying to defend a small stockpile of old cans. I’m not cut out for this. I just got lucky that I made it this far. We all did. I don’t want to rely on luck anymore. I’m with Pam.”

  They watched Molly disappear down the dark hill. Rickey turned to Henry, becoming desperate. “You owe me. You owe us. I heard you, it’s because of you that we were kept by Phil and his men–”

  Vincent put a hand on Rickey’s shoulder. “Henry is no more to blame for what happened to us than we are to blame for what we did while we were sick. Whether he believes it or not. In fact, as awful as the pens were, we probably wouldn’t have survived as long as we have without them.”

  “C’mon Rickey,” said Melissa, “You really want to stay out here? What’s out here? You’ll struggle the whole time. There’s electricity in there. Food, medicine. Maybe some cigarettes and beer.” She grinned, her teeth flashing in the dusk, “Definitely a wider variety of ‘broads’ as you’d say. If we don’t like it, we can leave.”

  Rickey turned toward her. “How do you know? What if we’re walking into a trap? What if people like us are slaves down there?”

  Melissa sighed. “I’m sure Vincent would tell you to trust in the better nature of people, but I know you won’t. The truth is, I don’t think there are actually enough immune people left to make us slaves.”

  A flicker of doubt woke in Henry’s mind at that. But he stayed quiet. Rickey still looked doubtful. Vincent shook his head. “You have to take a chance sometimes Rickey. You can’t live up on the top of this hill and wonder forever.” He got back on his bike and rode down the hill with Melissa, leaving Henry and Rickey alone on the chilly dark road.

  “I know what I owe you Rickey. I know what I’ve done and I’m not as sure as Vincent that surviving is really the better alternative. But I made a promise before I met any of you. I know you don’t understand it, you think I’m crazy or have some other motive. I owe someone else more. And to help her, I have to go down there and get help. If it’s as bad as you think, I’ll help you get out, somehow. We can’t stay here Rickey, we’re sick, starving. We wouldn’t even be able to plow a field if we knew how. We have to try this first. Let them fatten us up. Then we’ll do what we both need to do.” Rickey’s hand dropped away from Henry’s handlebars. Henry looked at him for a long moment. “I don’t want to leave you alone out here. But if you make me, then I will.”

  Rickey was quiet for a moment. He anchored himself on his bike and looked down at the electric glow of the City. “Shit,” he said at last, “I’m out of
cigarettes. Might as well run to the store while I’m here.”

  Henry smiled to himself in the dark. He pushed off, feeling the brisk wind press into him with a green, new washed smell and watching the light of the City reach out and pull him in.

  Twenty-four

  The group, even with their bikes and trailers of supplies, was dwarfed by the massive cement barrier. As they drew closer to it, the light from the City disappeared behind it. The gate looked devoid of people until Henry entered the tight circle of cold, stark white light where the highway met the Barrier.

  “Halt!” came a voice from above him. Henry stopped, the others pulling close together behind him. “Come forward into the light please,” continued the voice. Henry squinted up into the light but he couldn’t see anything. He stepped farther into the circle. The others pressed in beside him.

  “Is this all of you?”

  Henry glanced around. “Yes,” answered Melissa.

  “You have weapons?”

  “A shovel and uh– a crowbar I think,” said Henry. A soldier dropped down from a ledge out of view. He was carrying a gun, but his attitude was casual.

  “You coming to stay or just passing through?” Another soldier appeared from behind him and began circling them, inspecting their gear. Henry heard Rickey’s breathing behind him speed up and rasp.

  Vincent shook his head. “We aren’t sure. We were– sick. But someone tranquilized us and when we woke up, we were okay again. She left a note that told us to come here. A Dr. Rider?”

  Henry watched the soldiers exchange a rapid glance. “You were Infected? How did you survive this long?”

  “Maybe they were Cure camp runaways Steve,” said the other.

  “It’s a really long story,” said Melissa, “and as you can see, we aren’t doing so hot. We just need a place to stay for the night. If there’s paperwork or interviews or whatever, we’ll do them, but I’m dead on my feet.”

  Henry glanced around at the others. The bright light on the gate didn’t do them any favors. The ridges of their brows and cheeks, the jutting blades of their noses cast deep shadows where there ought to have been rounded skin, raised scars that ought to have been smooth, protruding skull caps that ought to have been softened by hair. He thought of how close they had come to dying, how close he had come. He shuddered and turned back to the soldier.

  “You’ll have to stay in the barracks for tonight. And your bikes and supplies will have to stay with us.”

  Rickey started to protest. The soldier held up his hand. “I know how that sounds. You probably had a lot of trouble getting these supplies. I promise that no one will touch your bikes, but we have to keep our people safe too. I know a person’s word probably doesn’t seem to mean as much to you as it did before, but that’s how things work in the City. If you want, you can turn around and find a camping area for the night and come back in the morning. We won’t stop you. But you sure look like you could use a night in a warm bed and some decent food.”

  There was a deep clanking sound and the metal gates opened slowly. The road behind the gate was quiet and lit by street lamps. There was a large brick building nestled against the Barrier, it’s windows brilliant with electric light and someone’s music floated out toward them. Henry felt like crying with relief.

  The soldiers walked through the gate without bothering to look back at them. Henry turned around and looked at the others. “What do you think?” whispered Molly, her eyes fixed on the gate, her body leaned forward as if it had already decided for her.

  “It’s a fair deal,” said Melissa, glancing at Rickey.

  “If they hold up their end,” said Rickey glumly.

  “It doesn’t matter if we go in tonight or in the morning, we’re still going to have to let them search the supplies,” said Henry, “and I’d honestly rather sleep in a bed if I can.”

  Pam was already walking up to the gate, her face streaming with tears. “Where are you going, Pam?” hissed Melissa.

  She turned around. “I don’t have to think about it. I can be home in a few minutes if I want to. Home. What is there to discuss?” She followed the soldier through the Barrier. Henry shrugged and followed her, not bothering to see if the others were coming or not. He’d see them sooner or later either way.

  The talkative soldier shook Henry’s hand as the other gently took his bike and wheeled it away. “What was your name?” said the soldier.

  “Henry.”

  “Nice to meet you Henry. Name’s Steve. You got family here too?”

  Henry shook his head. “I think Pam’s the only one expecting to find anyone.” He looked around him at the bright electric lights, tilted his head toward the rock song sliding out the barracks window. He looked at the soldier. “How is all this possible?”

  “You mean the City? Or the electricity?” asked the soldier scratching his chin.

  “All of it. The Barrier, the City, the electric. Jesus, you’ve even got a working television station.”

  Steve nodded. “Yeah, kind of makes the outside look pretty basic, huh? The electricity did go down for a while in the middle of the Plague, but the plant never got overrun or anything. Most everything just needed people to flip it back on. Don’t get me wrong, it took a while, because we didn’t really have anyone who knew exactly what to do. But after about six months and some good luck, we got it going again. Kind of been learning how to make things run again since then. The electric was always priority one though. We needed it for everything. It took a lot longer to get what limited phone lines and towers we have working again. Dunno why. But that’s the reason for the television station. It didn’t really get too damaged and we still had people who knew how to run it. The head honchos thought it was good for giving out orders or issuing attack warnings. Once the electric was restored, it was easy to make sure everyone had tvs. I mean, it’s not like they’ve ever been scarce. Turns out more people had tvs when the Plague hit than they had radios.”

  “But so fast…” murmured Henry.

  “Not really. It’s been almost a decade. It’s not like we had to invent anything. Everything’s just lying around ready to be turned on again. The real problem’s the stuff we’ve run out of. Medicine, batteries, wood planks, gasoline. We’re just starting to figure out how to make new stuff now.”

  Henry felt dizzy as the length of his illness dawned on him again.

  “Listen to me, going on and on. You folks are tired and hungry. Come on inside, forget about all that stuff. There’ll be time later for history lessons.”

  Steve led him into the building. “Sarah will get you set up for the night, I know you’ll be comfortable. I’ve got to get back to the Barrier.” He shook Henry’s hand one more time. “Everything’s going to get better from now on. I mean, it’s never going to be what it was, but it sure is a heck of a lot better in here than anything out there.”

  Henry nodded with a tight smile. He turned to see where Pam had gone. She was talking to a young woman who was nodding sympathetically and patting Pam on the back. Henry hung back until they were done. He heard the others filter in, Rickey already had a wrinkled cigarette hanging from his lips, looking far calmer than he had just moments earlier. He saw Henry and grinned. “Homegrown,” he said, holding up the cigarette. “Shhh, not supposed to tell anyone though.”

  Henry smiled and shook his head. The building was warm and filled with the quiet bustle of people, something Henry hadn’t heard in almost a decade. He sat in a plastic chair, waiting to be told where to go, while the others milled around in the hallway. He realized how tired he actually was and drifted in and out of a doze as he sat.

  Molly shook him awake. “Henry, they’re getting us dinner but we have to see the doctor first.”

  Henry yawned and rubbed a bleary eye. “A doctor? That’s good news though.”

  “They’re afraid to feed us until then.”

  “Are you nervous? Want someone to come with you?”

  Molly shook her head quickly, but she st
arted to cry and clutched at the dusty purple glove over her hand.

  “I can come with you if you want. Stop them from doing anything you don’t want them to do. Or Melissa or Pam if I’d make you more nervous.”

  “Did it look really bad to you this morning? I didn’t think it looked so bad, did you?”

  But Molly’s arm had smelled so badly that morning that Henry’s eyes had watered. And the glove’s empty fingers had been filled with fluid. He didn’t know if he should lie to make her feel better for a few more minutes or prepare her for the worst.

  “I don’t know Moll. I’m not a doctor. I just hope I didn’t make anything worse.”

  “What if I have to lose it?” she sniffled.

  “They aren’t going to do anything that major unless they have to. They’ll do everything they can to fix it first.”

  Molly led the way slowly down the hall. “Maybe it would be better if you did come. You know, to tell the doctor what it looked like before.”