The Book of a Few

by Rodgers, Austen

  Indeed, the sun was slowly making its way down toward the horizon. We all agreed it best to let the doctors do their work and help out however we could. I’ve never had to, but I would imagine that traveling around in the night would be perilous. Maybe the infected sleep, but I still don’t see it being worth it. Last thing I would want is to get pinned down or lost somewhere in the dark.

  The unnamed soldier, still standing by the truck, began pulling things out of the back end of the truck and placing them near our feet. A few small boxes, a duffle bag, a polished silver case of some sort, some plastic tarp, and poles that were presumably pieces of a tent. He also lugged out what looked like a small gas generator, or maybe a pump, and placed it on the ground next to the truck. He turned back to the truck and began pulling out long lengths of tubing. I had no clue at the time what it all was for and didn’t have much time to think about it.

  “So,” Bella said with an eager smile on her face, “lead the way.” She motioned with her hands. Impatient, I could tell, but she retained her ever-present sense of modesty and sweetness. Possibly out of respect for Thomson’s wishes to leave quickly. Thoughts ran through my mind regarding the nature of Bella and Thomson’s relationship. I hoped they were not romantically attached to one another. But it wasn’t my business. I was just curious.

  We took the four of them inside and led them to the equipment room. We weaved through numerous reach lifts and fork trucks, and the closer we got to the body we were looking for, the stronger the smell got. The original plan was to get the body out the next day, but of course we had forgotten. By the time we went to move the body, two mornings later, we could already see visible changes in the body’s shape. Afraid of what was going on with it, and to touch it, we had no choice but to leave it until we could come up with a better plan. What was a softball-sized lump then had now grown to at least twice that size.

  All nine of us cringed at the first hideous sight. The blisters were randomly spaced all around the body, but the biggest central mass was on the chest. It pulled the dead body’s shirt taught from the expansion of its own skin. It showed no signs of reanimation; it did not move as we talked and moved about it. Once again, Branden’s theory was proved wrong.

  Bella looked it over, occasionally humming to herself as she thought. She asked for the fork truck that had been slightly rested on the deceased creature to be removed as carefully as possible. She stressed the importance of not disturbing it too much, as it might ruin the experiment.

  I watched, trembling, as Branden climbed onto the vehicle and the forks slowly lifted into the air. Branden’s mission was successful, though, and he parked the fork truck elsewhere. I examined the body, and the only thoughts that ran through my mind were of my nauseating curiosity. I don’t know why, but I felt intrigued to pick this abominated man apart and examine him myself. I was, and still am, tired of going through every day wondering how it all started. But, of course, I knew that this one zombie would not hold all of the answers.

  “Dr. Milaka,” Bella said, “would you go and get the bio tent and suits, and have Zach help carry in the surgery equipment and the air tubing?”

  Dr. Milaka nodded.

  “It’ll only take an hour or two,” she told us, and we told her that it was fine. It didn’t matter to us when the work was finished.

  Lisa approached us and shook hands with Bella. “Nice to meet you,” she said. Then she turned to me and said with a lighthearted smirk, “Finally getting rid of it, huh?”

  I smiled back. “Yeah.”

  “Thank God.” Lisa looked over at the body and shuddered. “Gross. I have no interest in watching this, so I’ll leave you to it. I have to feed Joey again anyway.”

  “All right,” I said.

  “It was nice to meet you, Lisa,” Bella said.

  Lisa looked back over her shoulder as she walked away and said, “You, too, Dr. Hillman. Take care.”

  Dr. Milaka returned with as much as he could carry—the tarp, tent poles, duffle bag, and metallic suitcase. The doctors, along with Thomson and Michael’s help, started setting up the quarantine tent. It wasn’t very big so it didn’t take long, but one thing I did notice was that it wasn’t wrapped in any sanitary plastic like I had expected, which led me to wonder if the tent had been used before. I didn’t ask, even though it bothered me. I would think that it would need to be clean to prevent any contamination of the corpse during whatever experiments they had planned to do.

  The tent was lifted off the ground and placed back down over the body, as there wasn’t a bottom to it. This specific tent couldn’t have been a legitimate containment tent, could it? However, the air tubing assembly on the tent did make it seem a little more realistic. I remember thinking how it seemed a little shady. Like these people were suspiciously under-equipped for their jobs. I thought maybe this whole thing—the tent, the guards, Thomson and Bella—was just a facade. Maybe they were a group of people that would lie about who they are to get into houses without a fight. Then, by surprise, they would take what they needed to survive.

  The soldier that had been standing outside with the truck walked into the equipment room. He spun his head around a few times trying to spot us. When he did, he dropped off what he had and made his way back to the truck. Bella and Dr. Milaka fumbled about through their things, sorting and organizing their equipment while trying to decide what they would need most.

  “All right…” Bella said as she pulled a notebook and pen from a box and handed them to Dr. Milaka. “You are logging it this time; I did last time.”

  “Lanata mahila,” Dr. Milaka said, presumably cussing in his native tongue. Bella must have known what he said; she smirked at his remark. Both she and Dr. Milaka began putting on some kind of rubber or plastic suits. They were all one-piece outfits with a zipper up the torso and clear plastic to see through. They looked like they were made for painting or sandblasting. I nearly considered asking them to not go through with the examination. But I figured that they must have had done this at least once before or they wouldn’t be going through with it like this. It was their lives on the line, and they must have known the dangers that must accompany surgically examining a deceased infected man.

  Before both doctors made their way inside the tent, they gave instructions to Michael to go out and have the air pumps turned on. Bella also asked us to go fetch a few pails of water and, luckily for me, Branden and Taylor went to fulfill their request. I didn’t want to miss a single thing; I wanted to hear any details that might have unfolded right in the tent in front of me.

  The doctors took a look at one another and agreed that all the tools that they were to need were inside the tent. They decided that they were as ready as they were going to be. They were certain that no matter what was to be thrown at them, nothing would get out of control. They had prepared for the worst and would be able to handle it accordingly. I restate again, for the purpose of clarity, they went in by choice. Fully knowing the potential for danger.

  They stepped inside the tent eagerly, and I felt an unexpected surge of concern for them. These doctors were going out on a limb for us. Risking themselves for people that they had only met once before. I’d like to think that these are the kinds of people that make living in this world manageable. Knowing that even though the world is crumbling and someone has not only the courage, but also the desire to help others holds me together.

  I heard Bella speak from inside the tent so that Dr. Milaka could write down her exact words. Unfortunately, I was trying to pay attention to two conversations at once, as Dana and Thomson were also speaking, and I missed what Bella had said.

  Dr. Hillman’s Notes:

  “Dr. Bella Hillman on July 30, 2013. Dr. Kumar Milaka, who is assisting Dr. Hillman, transcribes this log.

  “Body of dead infected, experiment one. Body has formed large masses of tumor likeness all around the skin surface. Infected has been deceased for…” (yelling outside to counterparts: “How long has this been here?”) “Three
days. I’m beginning by looking at all physical descriptors and unique attributes. Looks like possible cause of death was blunt trauma to the skull. All of the body’s limbs are intact. Now by looking closely, if I were to guess, these pockets could be filled with a pus-like substance, but for safety purposes, I have an air pump system that is circulating the air as best as possible. For added security, I have guards nearby, in case…something comes out.

  “I’m now beginning to lightly push on a few of the more bloated areas. It seems as though the skin is unusually elastic for the body being dead this long. The skin is tight, and does feel full of pressure. Scalpel, please, Dr. Milaka.”

  End Excerpt

  Chester’s Log

  “So, tell me about yourself, Thomson,” Dana said. “Do you guys just do this for fun?”

  Thomson let loose a short chuckle. “No. Actually, if I had to tell, I’d say it’s a mixture of duty and desire to help out the community.”

  “Duty? You’re required to do this?” Dana asked with a confused and curious expression.

  “Eh… Not really required, I’d say. I like it, too. I was stationed in Germany, then in Japan with the Army back in the day. I enjoyed it; I liked serving my country and the common good. Never saw any action where I was, but someone had to do it. I was glad to play my part. Made some good lifelong friends during my time serving, too.”

  “Ah, I see. You do seem to enjoy helping Bella with her work.”

  Thomson smiled. “Yeah, she’s a sweetie. Being the head figure of safety at the hospital is an honor. Having something to protect, like I did in the service, is good for me.”

  “So, I’ve been curious. Some of the other guys have talked about you and your hospital. How does all that work? I mean, how did you all come together and start trying to play scientist?”

  “Well, like I said, I’ve got some good friends. One of whom was a superior of mine in the Army. I was asked to gather bright minded people to study the disease and learn anything we could. Unfortunately, the Cedar Valley doesn’t have many people beyond doctors. But for those that do volunteer, I personally take care of security and supplies.”

  “That brings up another question for you, Thomson,” Dana said.

  “Shoot, we have time.”

  “You work for the military then?”

  “No, not exactly. The hospital and the C.V.P.M. have a special relationship. The Colonel runs the National Guard base north of Waterloo and is in charge of the C.V.P.M. He helps provide volunteers for guard duty at the hospital in the hopes that we’ll learn something that will save lives. Think of it this way: the hospital is like a separate,” Thomson created finger quotes with his hands, “‘branch’ from the military now. Yes, it is the C.V.P.M.’s, but the hospital can act as its own independent entity. As long as the hospital answers when the Colonel comes calling, we’ll continue to get support from him. So in a sense, I am still in the military; I was just moved out of the actual military part to do some guarding.” He paused for a moment, then said, “You guys seem to be doing pretty well, honestly. But if you guys get into any trouble, you should go talk to the Colonel. They’ll take you in, give you a quick training, and put you somewhere they need you. They’ll feed you and give you a bed. It’s a simple life of service.”

  Dana looked amused. “I’ll have to talk to the others about it.”

  Dr. Hillman’s Notes, Resumed:

  “I’m going to cut into one of the bulges up along the shoulder region.” (Dr. Hillman makes a slow vertical incision.) “There is some pus-like substance, but not enough to cause a blister of this size. Down inside, I think there may be a small opening leading into the chest cavity. Could be from the body’s natural decay, but according to the amount of time it’s been deceased, it doesn’t seem right. But there’s no baby abomination or anything. Thank God.”

  (Dr. Milaka suggests the possibility of an airborne virus, disregarded.) “This is curious; I’ve never seen such a specimen before. Before I jump to conclusions, I will open one of the larger blisters. As of right now, there is no solid answer and further examination is required.”

  (Dr. Hillman has cut into one of the larger pockets. It ‘popped’ the moment Dr. Hillman began pressing the scalpel to its surface. Possibly from tension of the skin caused by pressure.) “I can smell it. It’s (groan) horrible. Uhh… it looks as though there is another opening on the inner surface, leading into the chest cavity.” (Dr. Hillman begins cutting further in, breaking ribs.) “I’m inside the chest. Everything inside (cough) looks like it’s been digested. Lungs and heart are mostly dissolved into a black paste-like substance.” (Dr. Hillman is repeatedly gagging.)

  End Excerpt

  Chester’s Log

  “Bella!” Thomson rushed to the door of the tent. “You all right?” he asked.

  Bella’s voice responded, “Y-yeah.” Her gagging intensified, gradually shifting to a choking sound.

  “Don’t look at it, Bella. Look at me,” Dr. Milaka said. “Bella!”

  Bella began vomiting. I personally can’t imagine how horrid it must have been inside the tent. Trapped inside with the smell and the morbid sight that she was now seeing.

  “We need to get her out,” Dr. Milaka said. “Bella, come. I’ll finish.”

  Thomson stood outside the tent, ready to assist. A few moments passed, and the zipper slid open. From it, Bella lurched out. The tent zipped closed behind her, as I noticed that Bella’s vomit was contained in her suit. The red chunks and liquid slid down the interior of the facial shield of her suit made it difficult to see her facial expressions. Thomson asked us to follow them with the buckets of water we had collected earlier. Taylor and I followed as asked.

  We got outside the Warehouse where the unnamed guard, who had been waiting at the truck, berated us with questions. Thomson answered them calmly and without spending too much time. Immediately after answering the guard’s questions, Thomson asked for some latex gloves. While the guard was pulling gloves from the truck, we poured two of our four buckets of water over Bella. The water washed both the blood that had speckled her torso and the black organic matter on her hands from her suit.

  Thomson and I helped Bella remove the suit from her body. We both wore latex gloves for our own safety, of course. Bella’s puke had run down her chest and legs, pooling in her shoes. She reeked of her own bile.

  “What should we do with the suit?” Thomson asked.

  I held out my hands. “We can take care of it. We’ll burn it over there.” I pointed toward the corner of the parking lot.

  Thomson shook his head. “No, it’s all right. I can go throw it over there.” Thomson turned and began walking toward where Bruce’s remains had finished burning.

  I became frantic, afraid a portion of the body might not have been thoroughly burned, like the face, or Thomson would be able to tell that the bullet entered through the back of his head somehow. I watched Thomson for a moment and tried to tend to Bella at the same time. In the few seconds that this transpired, I realized that my emotions were foolish. I was building myself up to a panic attack over something that was impossible. This is more proof that I do not feel guiltless over what happened with Bruce.

  Just as Taylor and I were beginning to tip the last two buckets over Bella’s head, she told us to stop. I didn’t much want to, as she smelled vile. But Taylor and I did as she requested and held off for a moment. She reached over her shoulder and touched the nape of her neck. Bella’s eyes widened and her body tensed.

  “The back of my shirt is wet,” she said. “There must have been a hole.” She looked up at me with the most heart wrenching expression of fear I have ever seen on a woman. I just wanted to reach out and hug her. “When you poured the first two buckets over my suit, there had to have been a hole.” She spun around to show us and pointed as she said, “That’s not puke.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right,” I said. “Thomson! We may have a problem!” Thomson turned around to look at me, and I waved him over. Tho
mson dropped the suit where he stood and began jogging back to us.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked with darting eyes.

  “It seems like Bella’s suit may have had a hole in it.”

  Bella looked at Thomson with the same sense of helplessness as she did to me moments earlier. Thomson pressed his lips together.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Hillman,” he said as he pulled a pair of handcuffs from a pouch on the back of his belt.

  Thomson was fidgeting with the cuffs for a moment, and then he looked to Bella, who was short of words to say. Bella sighed and looked down at the ground as Thomson cuffed her. When he finished, Taylor and I doused her with the water, which she did not enjoy. Afterwards, Taylor went and fetched a jacket from the cage, as we didn’t have any towels, but we did have a plethora of jackets. Upon his return, Dana was following behind him.