The Book of a Few

by Rodgers, Austen

  Dana, upon noticing that Bella’s wrists were restrained behind her back, asked what was happening. We explained to him what we had discovered. While he was concerned for Bella, he didn’t seem as affected as most any other person would be, which leads me, yet again, to wonder how this man operates. I find it confusing and awkward to try to communicate or find common ground with him. He just seems very distant.

  I thought to myself how maybe he did handle the Bruce thing the way he should have. Perhaps I should just get with the times. He does have strength where the rest of us don’t. He’s obviously a talker; he has a unique ability to manipulate his way into things. He’s probably pretty good at working his way out of things, too. He takes care of himself and, to that end, maybe us, too.

  Bella sat in the passenger seat of the truck for the rest of their time here in an effort to quarantine her for a while. All of us helped Dr. Milaka pack up the supplies into the truck when he had finished. He had dismembered the body and placed it inside multiple garbage bags. He apologized for the mess he had created on the floor, even when we told him it wasn’t a problem. We would bleach and clean it ourselves.

  We could tell that the guards, but mostly Thomson, were eager to leave. They were impatient almost to the point of being rude. Their attitudes changed immediately following what had transpired with Bella. Instead of patient, caring, and self-sacrificing, they were now coarse and only concerned with leaving as soon as possible. I was concerned for Bella’s well-being, too.

  With the truck re-packed, Branden took charge of burning the remains of the zombie, the suits, and the containment tent. He stood off in the distant corner tending the fire while the rest of the group stayed near the truck. We watched as the two guards went into the back along with Dr. Milaka and Thomson took the driver’s seat next to Bella. Thomson rolled down the passenger window and I stepped closer, assuming he had something to say. Dana walked up to the window with me.

  As I approached, I said, “You will try to keep us updated, right?” I motioned toward Bella, who was sweating heavily and had an overall look of extreme fatigue. It was hot out, and she had been sitting in the truck for an hour. Thomson nodded in return and promised to let us know if they found anything out, or if Bella were to take a turn for the worst.

  “Oh,” I said, “I almost forgot to tell you guys something.”

  “Okay.” Thomson raised an eyebrow.

  “We were out and about yesterday, and we came across an unusual infected. Its bones were weak, like decayed almost. They snapped like twigs under the slightest pressure, even the skull.”

  Thomson scratched his jawline. “That’s interesting. Just the one?”

  “Yeah, there was only one. If we run into another, we’ll let you know.”

  “All right, we will keep our eyes open, too,” Thomson said.

  I nodded, held up a hand to wave goodbye, and began to turn away. I felt that Thomson was about to drive away when he shouted, “Hey!” I turned back to him.

  “Look, can I ask a favor?” he asked somberly.

  “Sure,” I replied. “What do you need?” I wouldn’t hesitate to help the man, but what he asked of me was not what I anticipated. Even though I was willing, there was no way I could help him.

  Thomson began digging in his pant pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I need help finding my brother. I last saw him a few days ago. He left the hospital to try to find his family. I told him he needed to wait until I could go with him. He was impatient and left without me and I have no idea where he is. Tomorrow I’m off-duty, would you please help me find him? Just a few of you; I don’t want you to leave your home unsecured.”

  “Of course,” I said, “not a problem. We’ve wanted to look around for someone, too, but haven’t been able to. It’s Branden’s son.”

  Thomson nodded. “Ah, poor guy.”

  Thomson flipped his wallet open and searched through its contents. Bella’s eyes periodically closed like she was about to lose consciousness.

  “Here,” Thomson said. He held out a photograph for me to take. The truck is tall, so I had to open the door and place a foot inside to stand on. As I reached over and grabbed the picture from Thomson, I cautiously put weight on Bella’s leg. But not too much weight. I didn’t want to intrude in her bubble too much.

  Bella’s eyes snapped open and she sprang to life in a manner I could never replicate. She lurched forward and I jumped as a throaty growl escaped her mouth. Teeth cracked together as she tried to take a piece of my throat. I pulled my head downward and away from her, trying to keep my exposed skin away. I threw myself out of the truck, and once Bella realized I was no longer in reach, she went for Thomson.

  Pure horror streaked across Thomson’s face as he found himself trapped in his seat belt. Quick to defend a friend, I found myself up in the truck once more. I reached around Bella and pulled her close to me in an effort to keep her away from Thomson. Thank God that she was handcuffed or she would have torn into him. I tried pulling Bella from the truck as carefully as I could, but I tripped. My back met the pavement with Bella’s added weight on top of me.

  She tried so desperately to turn around or extend her neck low enough so her teeth could reach my arms that were wrapped around her. I squeezed her as hard as I could, because I knew that if my grip on her were to slip, I would become a victim of her rage. My heart raced unlike anything I have experienced before.

  “Thomson,” I yelled out, “put her down!” I groaned as I struggled to keep her in check.

  I’m not sure if it was because she was strong, or if she just never tired, but I could feel my arms failing me. She wiggled and fought every second I held her. My arms had begun slipping, and she had moved up my body, with her forearms and mid-back now resting on my face. A gunshot roared through the air, instantaneously stopping my fears of death, and Bella’s movement.

  I pushed Bella’s body off my own; I was concerned that she may bleed on me. Thomson came running around the front of the truck. I noticed his gun still at his hip. Thomson had not shot Bella. I looked behind me to see Dana with a gun in his hand. I made myself breathe slowly for a moment and began reassessing what had just happened.

  Dana holstered his gun into the waistband of his pants, undisturbed. Thomson, on the other hand, dropped to his knees before Bella in grief. He began crying as profanity escaped his mouth. It wasn’t a hard cry, but it was enough to show how much he cared for her. Dr. Milaka and the two guards came from the back of the truck. Michael and the unnamed guard held their rifles up to their shoulders.

  Dana rested one hand on the grip of his gun, and the other in the air. “Hey, don’t shoot! She turned!”

  Dr. Milaka dropped down next to Thomson and murmured to himself in his own tongue. The two guards, confused, looked to Thomson for orders. Thomson told them that what Dana had said was true. We all stood for a moment in silence. Branden had missed the action, but the bullet hole in Bella’s forehead told the story. He didn’t need to ask to know what had happened.

  Some time passed, and all of us were uncertain of what to do next. Dana was getting tired of standing outside in the heat.

  “Bella gave us all of her attention to try to help people,” Dr. Milaka said, shrugging. “Well, at least to figure out how the disease works. I don’t know anything about there ever being a cure, but I think that if she knew she were to die today, she would tell us to study her.”

  Thomson looked at Dr. Milaka in disgust. His lip curled as he spoke. “That’s sick. She should be laid to rest; she has given us enough.”

  “Thomson,” Dr. Milaka sighed. “We still know little to nothing. She would want us to keep going.”

  “I don’t want to see her,” Thomson began crying again, “lying on a cold table, swelling, like a dead animal.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m sure the Colonel would let you rest for a while.” Dr. Milaka reached out to console Thomson, but his gesture was swatted away.

  Almost like a child, Thomson sprung up to h
is feet and proclaimed, “Fine, but I will not help you with this.” Thomson walked aggressively toward the truck, wiping at his eyes. He climbed up into the driver’s seat and slammed the door behind himself. He smothered himself in his palms.

  Dr. Milaka looked up at the two guards, who had remained standing there. They assisted Milaka in getting Bella placed into a body bag they retrieved from their truck. It was a sad sight, because the feeling of knowing that the person inside is dead doesn’t fully hit you ‘til you see the zipper close shut. They pulled her up from the ground and placed her in the truck.

  Before they had a chance to leave, I told Dr. Milaka that we, or at least I, would visit in a few days. He nodded his head in response. We concluded our day by waving goodbye to the group as they drove out of the parking lot and down to the street below.

  Just before I followed the others inside, I noticed a crinkled paper lying on the ground. I bent over to pick it up. It was the photograph Thomson had handed me, which I had completely forgotten about. It slid across the ground, facedown, in the wind. I had to chase it for a bit, but when I finally captured it, I flipped it over to look at the image printed. I froze; it was a picture of Bruce.

  I turned around and rushed inside in search of the others. I bolted through the main hall and slammed my arm into the push bars of the door. My partners jumped in the air, and Dana even gripped his gun. I ignored their reactions and walked a few steps closer, holding the photo up.

  Everyone nearly unanimously said, “What the fuck?” Branden took it from me and squinted his eyes while he judged the photo.

  “That’s the photo Thomson gave me. Bruce was Thomson’s brother, and we fucking killed him.”

  “Whoa!” Taylor exclaimed. “If you think about it, Bruce killed himself. It was by his actions that he died by ours. We couldn’t risk losing the key, or letting him shoot us up at night!”

  I groaned in frustration. “We didn’t have to kill him! Think about it, Thomson was only a handful of hours away from finding Bruce. If we had fed him his meal, he would be with Thomson right now!” I lifted my arms in the air out of disgust. “He would have handed us that key out of charity, and we blew his fucking brains out after we got what we wanted.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that Thomson is going to go looking for him tomorrow,” Branden interjected. “The question is: What are we going to do now that we know this? We could go tell Thomson the truth to stop him from going out tomorrow and potentially save his life and Chester’s since he volunteered to help him. Or we could not tell him. Put on a mask and say that we’ve never seen the guy, and help him search for his dead brother. Keep it hidden but still be friends with him.” Branden shrugged his shoulders.

  “He could call off his search completely after what happened with Bella,” Will said.

  “No,” I shook my head in disagreement, “he’s more likely to go, I’d say. He just lost one person he cares about; he won’t want to lose another. He’ll head out no matter what is up against him.”

  “Why don’t we just let him do his thing?” Dana asked with a raised eyebrow. “Just let him go do his search and we stay out of it. Come up with some excuse like our perimeter was compromised with infected and we couldn’t get out of here in time to help.”

  Taylor and Will nodded in agreement to Dana’s idea.

  “I like that idea. We need them on our side, and our own lives have value, too,” Taylor said.

  “But we could save his life. He didn’t do anything wrong; in fact, he helped us,” Branden said. He turned to Dana. “We may have made a mistake with how we handled Bruce. But you’re right. We can’t just tell Thomson ‘Sorry about Bella. Also, we killed your brother.’ I vote we just let him do his thing. He can search all he wants, and we can hope he doesn’t get killed.”

  Honestly, Branden’s final answer surprised me. He and Thomson have a lot in common; they have both watched someone they care about die and have another missing. I would think he would have sympathized with Thomson a little more.

  “Bruce is right outside our door; Thomson is not going to find him. One of us should just sit out on the roof just in case he swings by,” Branden added.

  Even though I do not enjoy going back on a promise I have made, Branden does have a point. We could do what Dana suggested and just state that we were unable to come, which is excusable to an extent. Thomson won’t find anything, and we’ll still be friends as long as he doesn’t die.

  “I just,” I said, sighing, “I don’t think that’s right.” The others looked at me like I was a child. “I know, it’s not like I have a choice. I can’t just leave by myself. But, damn, this doesn’t sit well.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Taylor said as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “But it’ll be all right, Chester. Promise.”

  I nodded to Taylor, and walked through the guys and headed into the Warehouse. My stomach was growling, so I headed straight for the fridge and picked a few things out for myself. That’s when I noticed that certain areas of the Warehouse are starting to smell. Some of the perishable foods are getting worse, and a few items are inedible at this point. We’re wasting food, in my opinion. We could be feeding a starving family right now instead of hoarding it for ourselves. Part of the reason we didn’t offer Thomson and the others a tour around the building is because we are afraid that someone may catch wind of this place and rob us. Hospital’s got a good number of people in there, and they could probably use the food. Hell, everyone could.

  I know I’ve probably said this before, but we are really lucky to be here. By some off chance, we managed to get here before anyone else had occupied the building. Yeah, there were those people stealing from the building, but it wasn’t a large, deadly force. I occasionally get worried about our ability to keep it. There are only six of us who can fire a gun (not including Joey, considering his condition), so we couldn’t fight off any large party that was determined to take it from us. My thoughts of today end on this note: We still need more people.

  Day Nine

  I don’t really have a lot to write about today. We were originally going to go look for Branden’s son, Christian, but with Thomson out looking for Bruce today, it would be best to stay at the Warehouse. We didn’t want to risk crossing paths with him, which would be an awkward situation. The search for Christian has been rescheduled for tomorrow. We’re going to search a few locations that we think are the most likely for people to gather together in. There’s a church close by Branden’s home, the recreation center, and pretty much every place that seems large enough.

  Found something of interest in the freezer today: a dead body. I was in there perusing its contents in search of some frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when I spotted a body hanging in a crane aisle. In fact, this is the same aisle that we found Joey in. Funny thing is, we aren’t able to remove the body without risking falling ourselves. It appears to be caught by its clothing and is suspended over twenty feet in the air. If I were to guess, I’d say that the hanging body was infected when it died, and it was chasing Joey. It would explain how Joey might have fallen to the ground level. Accidents happen, I suppose.

  Spent some time with Taylor today. I enjoyed it. It was nice to finally get some time to just relax and talk. We aren’t quite as close as we used to be, but it was easy enough to spark up a conversation. We talked about the video games we used to play, which ones had the best storylines and whatnot. He brought up cigarettes, which made me want one, and I answered a few questions he had about his shooting posture. All in all, it was fun to talk with him.

  Will asked me what I thought of Dana, and I kind of beat around the bush on that one. I’m uncertain really. He may do things for us, but the exact value of those things is debatable. I understand that with Bruce he may have just been looking out for us, but he pressured me into doing something I’m not proud of and that was in all likelihood entirely unnecessary. That’s the second time Dana has proven that he is a manipulator. I just can’t get over what’s h
appened, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

  Well, I have nothing else to say. I’m surprisingly tired, considering I didn’t do much today.

  Dear Bill,

  I know I left without you, but you can’t be surprised. I understand that you’re busy, but I couldn’t wait for you any longer. Every day that passed by, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the day they would die. But I found them…they’re dead. I don’t know what to do with myself. Yeah, I have you and the hospital, and I’m sure the C.V.P.M. would take me in and train me like you said. I’m just having a hard time right now. Don’t be mad, but I don’t want to live. I know that more thought should be given, so that’s what I am going to do. I’m going to go back to my store in the morning; I left some things there last time and I’m low on ammo. I wouldn’t be able to make it back to the hospital right now anyway. Then I’ll go to that warehouse west of there and get some food. It’ll give me time to think, but no promises. Take care of yourself, Bill. Keep fighting. I hope you find this letter, and I know someday your sacrifices will pay off.