by R. Brewer
Nick thought Evan looked exhausted. The bruise on his forehead had turned a nasty purple color and had spread to his cheek, extending under his eye. Nick looked down at himself. His pants were stained and spotted in blood, some his own, some the blood of others. He’d be happy when he could find something else to wear. The blood spatters reminded him of what happened to Isaiah.
Nick was not only terrified that they’d been infected, but also fearful that the virus or organism that caused the transformation he’d seen Isaiah go through was something that couldn’t be stopped. Escaping from the installation, they’d opened Pandora’s box, or maybe, the gates to hell. He wasn’t sure which was a more accurate description. “Evan, I can take over for awhile if you’d like to rest,” he said.
Evan ignored the offer. “We need to find gas and supplies,” Evan said. “We can’t go back to Lake Tahoe anytime soon.”
“Do you know this area?” Nick asked. “There must be an outfitter’s store around here somewhere, with all the National Parks and camping.”
“We might need to be more discrete than that. First thing, we’ll have to get rid of this van.”
Nick wondered how they would be able to find another means of transportation. They were in the mountains, far away from car dealers, in fact, far away from cars, in general. The roads were completely empty. Maybe Gypsum had already cleared this area. More likely, people had fled when the earthquakes hit the west. Mountains weren’t safe when the earth started rocking, setting off mudslides and avalanches of rock. “Do you think it’s safe in the mountains? You know, with the earthquakes, and all?” Nick asked.
Evan took his eyes off the road and looked at him. “Nowhere is safe right now. We’ll just have to stay out of sight until Jodie finishes what she started.”
After what they’d seen, Nick had doubts Jodie would succeed. The horde was loose both inside and outside of Area 51. They seemed to know ways to move within the structure of a building that would be unknown to those who hunted them. Given the virility of the contagion, as they’d seen with their own eyes from Isaiah’s transformation, the infestation would spread quickly. “Evan, what happened to Isaiah, what all those people turned into . . . was that from a virus or something else?”
Evan rubbed the back of his neck. “No virus that I know of acts that quick … so transformative in such a short period of time, I mean. Although a virus would be a perfect way to transmit what Helen must have created.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asked.
“Well, viruses are made of genetic material and protein. Once a virus infects a host cell, it takes over the cell, replicates and destroys the cell in the process.”
Nick nodded. “Yes, which is why viruses are so dangerous. How is this any different?”
“Because these viruses, these combinations of DNA and RNA aren’t normal. People who are infected . . . the rate at which they change, the things they turn into. No known human virus can do that.”
“So, the experiments that Helen was doing for years … do you think some of the material she used or created was somehow let out into the Gypsum population?” Nick asked, already knowing the answer to his question.
“I don't know, Nick, but I will say this: There are no known organisms on planet Earth that could act in the same manner as these do,” Evan said. “They not only colonize a body, they progressively denature it into something unrecognizable. What we don’t know is the lifespan of these things. I mean, technically, they’re already dead in terms of how we would define it.”
“So, they’re like extraterrestrial zombies or something?” Nick asked, a small laugh escaping his mouth.
Evan smiled, although Nick could tell he found no humor in the statement.
“I don’t know what a zombie is,” Evan said. “These people . . . the Gypsum people who were exposed . . . they were changed into an entirely different organism. They’re not just the undead. They’re completely alive.”
Nick turned to look at the passengers behind him, sleeping soundly in a pile around Christy. “Did you see the woman in the garage?” Nick asked. “The expression on her face looked like she was thankful to be put down.”
Evan nodded. “I did. Whatever humanity was left in her probably knew it was for the best.”
“But how do we know when they’re completely gone?” Nick asked. “I mean, if we’re killing these things and they’re really still people … Good God.”
“You shouldn’t feel remorse, Nick. They might initially be aware of what’s happening to them, but they’re completely overwhelmed by the disease at some point. You saw how fast it took Isaiah . . . and he fought it with everything he had in him. We have no choice but to defend ourselves.”
“How long do you think they’ll live? If what they’re actually doing is living?” Nick asked, wondering if there was any way Evan could answer that question. Remembering the horde following them in the parking structure, Nick recalled that they were incredibly diverse, ranging from unrecognizable masses of rotting flesh to extremely powerful, insect-like creatures. Some had large heads with elliptical-shaped eyes, how he would picture an alien creature to appear. From the way they moved, seeming more docile than the rest, Nick had the idea they might be smarter and, as a result, even more dangerous.
“Unfortunately, only time will tell,” Evan said. “Ah, a stroke of luck.” He pointed to the truck stop ahead. Although the lights weren’t on, it appeared to be occupied by groups of people in campers and a long line of tractor-trailers, probably all waiting for gas.
“Do you think it’s wise for us to go in there at this time of day?” Nick asked.
“No choice,” Evan said. “We’re running on fumes right now. Besides that, we all need food and water.
They pulled into the parking lot and drove between two rows of semi-trucks. Evan parked the van in an empty space where it would be obscured from view.
Jumping out of the van, Nick was about to open the side door to let Christy, the boys, and Hunter out, when a man with a baseball bat approached him.
“You people. You Gypsum people aren’t welcome here,” the man said, raising the bat over his head.
Nick noticed another man walking toward them, a tire iron in his hand. The van door slid open and Nick stopped Christy from pushing it all the way to the side.
“What?” Christy asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Just stay in there for a minute. I have to talk to some nice gentlemen about Gypsum,” he said, pointing to what was now a crowd growing larger by the moment.
Christy backed up, but left the door open. “It’ll be just a minute,” she said to the boys.
Evan joined him and Nick walked toward the armed men, his hands held high. “We’re not from Gypsum. We took one of their vans to get away from them.”
The men looked at each other, talking in voices so low that Nick couldn’t hear what they were saying. “Prove it,” the man in front said.
“I’m not sure how we can prove it, guys. I’ve got two kids and a dog in the van who --”
Christy slid the door open abruptly and jumped out. “Who’ve been chased down, kidnapped and imprisoned by Gypsum. Now, put your baseball bat away before I come and take it from you,” she said.
The man in front lowered his bat. “Oh. Uh, sorry, ma’am,” he said, lowering the bat and tipping his cap.
“No need,” Christy said. “We all feel the same way about Gypsum.”
Nick looked at Christy, astonished with her bravery. He guessed she was afraid of little after having outrun mutant creatures for the past several days.
“We need food and water. Anywhere we can get that around here?” Christy asked.
The man nodded. “Yeah. There’s a barbecue goin’ on the other side of the station. If you wanna follow me, I’ll take you over there.”
“Nick, you take them. I’m going to find someone who can help us hide this van,” Evan said.
“I can help you with that,” one of the men said, moving forwa
rd, extending his hand to Evan. “John, John Fitzpatrick from Fitzpatrick Auto. At your service.”
Evan grasped the man’s hand. “Well, hi, John,” he said.
“Time to go, guys,” Nick said, helping the boys and Hunter out of the van. “Let’s get some dinner.”
“You might wanna check inside the truck stop to see if they got any clothes your size,” one of the men said, gesturing at the blood and gore smeared on Nick’s pants. “People are bound to lose their appetite looking at that.”
“Yeah. Good idea,” Nick said. As he walked away, he could hear Evan haggling with the used car dealer.
“Well, she’s got a little front end damage, but she runs good,” Evan said. “Got less than five thousand miles on her.”
Nick laughed to himself, thinking it was nice to hear a normal conversation.
CHAPTER 24
Jodie woke with a start to find herself alone in the dark storeroom. Her clothes saturated with sweat, she felt as if her body was on fire. Raising her hand to wipe her forehead, she found it shaking uncontrollably. She was covered in towels. Chuck must have done that. Where was Chuck, though? Slowly, Jodie tried to sit up, but found herself too weak. She lay her head back down and closed her eyes, not able to keep from falling asleep.
The sound of the door opening brought her back to consciousness, but she couldn’t move. She needed to hide, but her body wouldn’t cooperate, leaving her exposed to whoever might come her way. Then she heard a familiar voice.
“Back here,” Chuck said. “She just seems to be getting sicker and sicker.”
“Oh, my God,” a woman said. “That’s Jodie. Jodie Watts. Isn’t it?”
The voice sounded familiar, like she’d heard it before. Jodie thought for a moment and realized it was the voice of the woman she’d heard arguing earlier.
“Yes, it is,” Chuck said, emotion evident in his voice. “How do you know that?”
Jodie looked up, not able to focus on the woman’s face.
“I’ll fill you in after we get her into my lab,” the woman said. ”Can you carry her?”
Jodie felt herself being lifted from the floor. She watched the overhead lights passing by as Chuck walked down the hallway. Moments later, Chuck set her down on a gurney and the woman covered her with a blanket. She looked up, not recognizing Chuck’s face. Fully formed, he looked different than she recalled. He was noticeably shorter than he had been a few hours ago, too. One thing was the same, though. His eyes were full of tears as he looked down at her.
“Can you help her?” Chuck asked.
“She’s burning up,” the woman said, slipping gloves on and a mask over her face. “First thing we need to do is to give her something to bring down that fever. Then, I’ll do some tests and see what’s going on. You might want to put on a mask and gloves, too.”
“Might be too late for that,” Chuck said.
The woman looked at him with confusion written on her face.
“We’ve been together since yesterday. I would probably be sick by now if that was going to happen.”
“Well, do it for me anyway, okay? We’ll need to get her out of sight, too. She’s not safe here. If anyone finds out Jodie Watts is still alive, they’ll be after her.”
Jodie tried to speak, finding her mouth too dry to form words. She felt the pinch of the needle as it penetrated her skin. Managing to lift her hand, she grabbed Chuck’s arm.
“What, Jodie?” Chuck asked, bending down to her.
“Find out where they took Mei,” she said. “You have to save her, Chuck.”
Chuck nodded and Jodie closed her eyes, feeling the medication migrating through her veins. She felt herself slipping into a deep sleep.
* * *
The sound of laughter greeted Jodie as she woke. Slowly opening her eyes, she couldn't focus at first. However, she could tell that her fever was gone. An intravenous tube snaked from her arm up to a pole attached to the gurney she lay on. She strained to see the label on the bag of fluid, but didn’t recognize the name of whatever medicine she was being given.
Turning back, she could see Chuck in the next room, talking with the woman he’d brought to help her. She hadn't really looked at the woman closely before, but could tell she was probably from the Middle East. Her bright blue eyes shone against her tawny skin and dark hair. Chuck appeared as if he couldn't take his eyes off of her. They seemed to be at ease with each other, almost as if they were on a date, until Chuck grabbed a Three Musketeers and bit through the wrapper. The woman laughed. Still just Chuck, Jodie thought.
Feeling like she had enough strength to sit up, Jodie pushed herself up on her elbows.
“Hey, you’re awake,” Chuck said, getting up from the table. The woman followed him into the room. Chuck reached behind Jodie and helped her sit up all the way, while the woman placed two pillows behind her back.
“Thank you,” Jodie said, eyeing the woman with suspicion. “How long have I been out?”
“About four hours,” the woman said, handing her a glass of water.
Jodie found herself grabbing at the glass. She downed it in a few big gulps and handed it back.
"I'll fill that up again," the woman said. "How are you feeling?"
Jodie glanced at Chuck and almost burst out laughing. His chin covered in a thick beard, he looked like a very fit lumberjack dressed in scrubs. Turning back to the woman, she said, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"
"Oh, yes, I should explain," she said, her voice soft and flute-like. "My name is Hana. I'm part of the Gypsum genetics team."
Jodie wanted to jump out of the bed and knock the woman off her feet, pretty eyes and all.
"I can see you're angry," Hana said. "You have every reason to be."
Jodie pushed the sheet back and started to get out of the bed.
"You have to wait, Jodie," Chuck said, putting his hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her back. "You need to hear her out."
"But . . . Mei, we have to find Mei," Jodie said.
"I know," Chuck said. "Hana can help us. First, you have to listen for a minute." He turned and walked out of the room.
What in the hell is wrong with him, Jodie wondered. He acts as if we've got all the time in the world. Hana handed her a second glass of water. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should drink it, but shrugged off her suspicions and downed it like the first. After all, she felt a lot better than she had a few hours ago. If she’d caught one of the viruses her mother had unleashed on the Gypsum population, she’d likely have died without Hana’s help.
Looking into the next room, she could see Chuck grab two chairs. He brought them back and set them down next to the bed.
Chuck sat down in a chair and it creaked in protest. "Okay, Hana, let's clue Jodie in on the family secret."
* * *
Evan stood between two tractor-trailers, talking with a man he'd only met a few minutes before. He’d just finished bargaining for transportation. After disposing of the Gypsum van, stressing to the man from Fitzpatrick Autos that he should keep it out of sight, he’d met a family wanting to rid themselves of their camper. They'd gone back and forth on price and finally reached an agreement. He'd written a check for twenty-five thousand dollars and handed it to the man.
"You’re sure this is good?” the man said, holding the check up to the light.
“On my honor, sir,” Evan told him.
Folding the check and sliding it in his wallet, the man shook his head. “Those Gypsum fuckers kicked us out before we could even get anything from the house.” He handed Evan a bottle of bourbon. “Drink on the deal?”
Evan took the bottle and uncapped it, taking a whiff of the ten-dollar brandy before tipping the bottle back and taking a good long swig.
"My missus, well she's pretty well pissed about that ham she took out to thaw. Musta gone bad by now. Been three days."
Evan tucked the bottle under his arm, took out his wallet, and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. He handed it to the man. "Fo
r when you get back home. Get your wife another ham."
The man grabbed the bill out of his hand, thanked him, grinned over his ham money and left without taking his bottle. Evan was glad for the silence. Sitting down on the pavement next to the truck, he leaned against the wheel of the trailer and took another swig of brandy. His worry over Jodie was mounting. He could picture the look on her face as the elevator doors closed when he’d left her in the Gypsum installation. A look of conviction. Determined. His daughter, his beautiful daughter, left underground to fight the things her mother had created. Evan thought she was the most perfect child a man could have, while the wife he'd held in such esteem for so long, nothing but a poor excuse for a mother and human being. He felt his fists clenching.
"Deep in thought?" Christy said, approaching him with a plateful of food.
"Deep thoughts are beyond my capabilities at this point, I'm afraid," he said.
Christy extended the plate to him and he took it, aware that he was hours past feeling hungry already.
"We were worried about you," she said, squeezing his shoulder for a brief moment.
"No need for that," Evan said between mouthfuls of potato salad. "I've procured us new transportation." He held up a ring with two keys dangling from it. "A camper, no less. . . but it has no ham."
Christy looked at him and smiled. "I know there's meaning in that statement, but I'm too tired to figure it out right now."
Evan gestured, waving it off as insignificant as he swallowed a bite of chicken. "Not important. Say, considering the condition of the family I procured the camper from, it might be a good idea to air it out before we're on our way." He held up the keys for Christy. "Want to take a look?"
"Oh, I can't wait, Evan," she said, laughing. "I cannot imagine a scenario in which anything smells worse than us, though."
"Not you, my dear. You're as fresh as the springtime dew," Evan said, loading his mouth full of peas.
"Oh, my God, now I'll have to tell everyone you've lost your mind," Christy said, a smile taking over her face. "Where is it, Evan? The camper?"